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httpsdana · 9 months ago

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heyyy

i saw your last post and i have an idea, what about the reader having a bad past with birthdays and she didn't have birthdays since 12yo ( or anything anyway :))) ) then pablo will do to her a birthday surprise after he knew it...

20 Presents for 20th Birthday~Pablo Gavi

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

this was actually so cute to write I hope you enjoy <3

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players/drivers I write for

Birthdays were never y/n's favorite events. Especially not her own birthday. She hadn't celebrated her birthday since she was 12. Her parents always celebrated her birthday, until her father died, and her mother never spoke to her after that, never even telling her happy birthday.

So ever since she turned 12,she had lived with her aunt, who also made sure to not celebrate her niece's birthday.

After Pablo found out about her bad experience with birthdays, he wanted to make sure her 20th birthday is one to remember.

y/n woke up in the morning, remembering that she had turned 20. As usual, she didn't expect anyone to remember her birthday. She opened her phone, only for the messages to come flooding. She was surprised, but smiled at the thoughtfulness of Gavi's friends, who are her only friends

Pedri : happy birthday y/n! have an amazing day 💖

Fermin: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIL SIS. I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR DAY 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Lamine Yamal: happy birthday mom 🫶🏼

Alejandro Balde: happy birthday little one! enjoy your day to the max 🥳

Aurora💋: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL. I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN ❤️😍 MOM AND DAD SAY HI 😁

She felt her eyes tearing up at the sweet messages from her friends. They already made her day better when she was in a gloomy mood at the thought of that day. That's when she came across the message that made her cry.

Pablito❤️: happy birthday to my sweet beautiful girlfriend. I'm gonna make sure you have the best day ever. I love you so so so much baby. now get ready to receive your 20 gifts for your 20th birthday ❤️❤️

She replied to all the messages, smiling gratefully at the friends she has gained because of her boyfriend. After that, she got up and entered the bathroom pf her bedroom. She was met with a sticky note on her mirror.

Your skin deserves as much love and care as you give to everyone around you. I hope this helps keep your glow as radiant as your smile.

She smiled, looking at the cute box that was on the bathroom counter. She opened it and saw all the skin care products that were there. All the expensive things she had put on her wishlist previously.

After doing her skin care routine, she changed out of her PJs and left to the kitchen.

A chocolate box was waiting for her on the kitchen counter. She smiled as she read the note on it.

Each piece in this box is as rich and delightful as the moments we share. I hope you enjoy every bite my love

She felt herself blushing at his sweetness, opening the box to see all the cute chocolate bites that were there. She ate a few pieces as she drank her coffee and wondered what Pablo had also planned out. She still couldn't believe he got her 20 gifts.

She walked to the living room to continue her tour around the house, and was met with a brand new stylish handbag on the coffee table. She admired the bag, then opened it to see it's inside, only to notice a designer perfume inside, a luxury fragrance she's been wanting. With also another note.

Just like this bag carries all your essentials, may this perfume add a touch of elegance to your every day. Enjoy both as a little reminder of how much you mean to me.

She shook her head with a smile, already feeling bad and how much all this must've costed him.

y/n thought that maybe the gifts in her apartment were over, only for her to receive a message from Pablo.

Pablito❤️: you've got a few more gifts at your apartment, before Pedri picks you up for your next destination

She smiled at the message replying with a thank you for everything he had gotten her and saying he didn't have to. She went to her closet to get ready. She didn't know what to wear, but when she opened the closet, she was met with the new barca jersey, the number 6 on the back and her name printed out on the top.

Wear this jersey with pride and remember that I'm always cheering you on, no matter where you go. Can't wait to see you in it.

She grinned happily, admiring the beautiful jersey in front on her. She was always a barca fan, so receiving a jersey that has her name and Pablo's number meant the world to her.

She paired the jersey up with some wide jeans. After getting ready, she received a message from Pedri saying that he's gonna be outside her door in a few minutes.

As she was putting on her choose, something on the small table, where they put their keys, caught her attention.

Her jaw dropped when she saw the polaroid camera there, also with a note.

Capture every special moment of this day with this camera and let each photo be a snapshot of our beautiful memories together.

She beamed at the sweet message, putting the camera in her bag and heading out. She saw Pedri in his car there, a smile on his face.

She got in the car next to him and he greeted her.

"hey you. happy birthday" he said sweetly, making her smile

"thank you Pedri. now where are we going?" she asked, putting on her seatbelt.

"we are going to the stadium now" he said, starting the car.

"oh and before we move, make sure to wear these sunglasses so the sun doesn't burn your eyes" Pedri gave her a small bag.

She opened it, seeing the beautiful sunglasses inside. She smiled and put them on, before Pedri started his drive.

The drive was silent, and when they arrived y/n was about to open the door, before Pedri stopped her.

He gave her a small paper, and when she looked at it she saw that it was a voucher, for her favorite spa.

"make sure to enjoy your day at the spa whenever you want. it's available for the next two weeks" he smile.

"thank you Pedri" she said genuinely making him smile

"it's not me who you should thank. plus it's your birthday. now go don't be late" he ushered her out of his car.

She got out of the car and made her way inside the stadium.

As she started her walk, one of the staff member came by her side. She gave her a big bouquet of roses, her favorite flowers, and told her to follow her.

She walked behind her, the bouquet still in her hand. At the beginning of the hallway, she was met by Lamine.

"y/n! happy birthday" he exclaimed, giving her a small hug.

"thank you son" she joked, making him laugh.

Suddenly, he pulled a small bag from behind him, giving it to y/n

"from gavi" he said. She smiled gratefully, handing him the bouquet so she can open it.

She saw a box in the bag, seemingly a jewelry box. She opened it, and was met with some of her all time favorite lyrics.

I want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck not because he owns me, but cause he really knows me

She giggled silently, removing the paper, and seeing the gorgeous gold necklace, that had the letter P on it.

Lamine helped her put her necklace on, before handing her the bouquet. She continued her walk with the staff member.

Until she was then met by Fermin.

"here's the birthday girl. how has your day been?" he asked, giving her a hug.

"it's been amazing." she answered.

He also pulled a back from behind him, giving it to y/n. She opened the box inside, and saw a gorgeous bracelet. It had her initial on it, but when she looked at the back of it, she noticed the date of hers and Pablo's anniversary on the back.

"that's adorable" she mumbled, putting the gold bracelet on.

"you gotta go now. I'll see you tonight" Fermin waved at her, before leaving her and the staff

tonight? that's weird

They walked more down the hallway, and finally they reached the pitch. The staff told y/n to walk a bit and she'll know what to do next.

y/n walked alone on the pitch, until she saw a familiar figure standing there. When she noticed it was Pablo, she placed the bouquet on the grass and ran into his arms.

She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, while he lifted her of the ground by hugging her waist.

"I love you so much" she mumbled into his neck. He placed her down on the floor, holding her face in his hands

"did you like my gifts?" he asked softly, his voice holding adoration and love

"like them? I loved them Pablo. you shouldn't have done all that" she said, feeling guilty once again about the money he spent

He shook his head nonchalantly.

"don't be silly. that's the least I could do to make up all the birthdays of the past." he said, making her smile.

She leaned in and connected their lips into a passionate kiss, that they only pulled away from when they needed some air.

"come on you still have, how many gifts? nine?" he said, making her laugh

"20 gifts is a lot Gavi. you really shouldn't have" she said, making him sigh.

"just shut up. if it makes you better, I didn't pay for all of them yet" he said, making her confused.

"well I haven't payed for the restaurant we're having dinner at tomorrow. I haven't booked our trip to Greece yet. Also we haven't gotten our outfits for the Taylor Swift concert in Miami-" he was interrupted by her squeal

"we're gonna see Taylor Swift?!" she almost screamed making him laugh

"yes we are" he nodded, making her jump again into his arms

"I love you so so so much" she said quickly, while he kissed her temple

"I love you more, now come on we have to go shopping for your birthday party tonight" he said.

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yassbishimvintage · 4 months ago

Text

Hearts on Deck (2)

A/N: Part two of Hearts on Deck

Over the next few weeks, Cleo barely had time to dwell on that night with Aaron. Work consumed her—photoshoots, brand deals, events, and endless meetings. Her schedule was relentless, and she let it be.

If she kept busy, she wouldn’t have to think about how often she caught herself scrolling past his name in her following list. Or how, every now and then, she’d notice him quietly liking a post of hers—never commenting, never drawing attention, just there.

Still, she pushed those thoughts aside.

Then, one day, her manager called with news.

"Pack your bags," she said. "We just locked in a campaign with a London-based brand. You’ll be flying out next week."

Cleo paused mid-sip of her morning smoothie. "London?"

"Yep. Big deal, too. High fashion, high exposure, all the right circles. Perfect for you."

London.

She hadn’t been there in a while. And yet, the first thing that came to mind wasn’t the campaign or the business opportunities.

It was Aaron.

She hadn’t spoken to him since that night. A few quiet Instagram interactions, sure, but no messages, no calls.

Still, as she sat there, the prospect of being in his city stirred something in her.

Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe she wouldn’t even run into him.

But as she stared at her phone, her fingers hovering over his name, she couldn’t help but wonder—

Should I let him know?

When Cleo touched down in London, she was immediately swept up in the whirlwind of work. The city, as always, buzzed with energy—traffic moving in a constant hum, people rushing in every direction, the air thick with ambition. But for Cleo, there was no room for distraction.

She barely had time to take in the sights of the city as her schedule kicked into full gear.

Meetings with the brand team. Photoshoots in glamorous studios. Press interviews. London’s high fashion scene was demanding, and Cleo was at the center of it all. She slipped seamlessly between different looks—fierce and confident for a runway-ready shoot, then effortlessly chic for an editorial spread.

There was no room for anything else.

But in the rare moments between appointments—on the car ride to the next shoot, during quiet breaks in the hotel suite—her mind still wandered back to Aaron.

Had he seen her posts? Had he noticed she was in town? She wondered if he was still following her updates, but she didn't dare check.

She had too much to do. Too many eyes on her, too many deals to seal.

Work kept her grounded, focused. It kept her from wondering if the city had a way of drawing people together or keeping them apart.

She was here for a reason, and that reason wasn’t about him. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

One evening, after a long day of meetings and filming content, Cleo found herself invited to a high-profile dinner. The kind of event where you’re surrounded by designers, influencers, actors, and models—all the industry’s top players gathered under one roof.

She arrived at the lavish venue, a sleek, modern restaurant tucked away in one of London’s upscale neighborhoods. The decor was minimalist but elegant, with soft lighting and an atmosphere that felt as curated as the guest list.

Cleo made her way through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces and industry insiders. She had her guard up, staying focused on the task at hand, working the room, engaging in conversation. But then, something made her stop.

A familiar laugh echoed through the space—a sound she hadn’t realized she’d been craving to hear.

She turned slightly, her heart skipping a beat, and there he was.

Aaron.

He was standing near the bar, laughing with a small group of people. His presence was unmistakable, even amidst the crowd. He was effortlessly stylish, dressed in a tailored blazer over a turtleneck, his hair slightly tousled in that way that made him look both polished and laid-back at the same time. His hazel eyes caught the light in the room, and for a moment, Cleo couldn’t breathe.

She watched him, not wanting to seem obvious, but not being able to look away. There was something magnetic about him—how he carried himself, how he interacted with people, how he made a room feel smaller and warmer just by being in it.

Then, he turned his head slightly.

Their eyes met across the room. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to still.

Cleo felt a flutter in her chest, but she quickly steadied herself, reminding herself that she wasn’t here for this.

Aaron’s gaze lingered just long enough for her to catch a glimpse of that same quiet intensity. But then, he smiled—a subtle, almost private smile that felt like an invitation.

She had a choice.

To walk over. To acknowledge him. To see where this might go.

Or to stay focused, to keep moving through the night.

Cleo took a deep breath. The pull of curiosity was there. The question of what could happen if they spoke again was on her mind. But she wasn’t sure she was ready to let that feeling take the lead.

Instead, she turned her attention back to the conversation she’d been having, keeping her gaze steady ahead.

But she knew one thing for certain.

London had a way of bringing things full circle.

And this? This encounter was only the beginning.

Cleo stiffened slightly, the gentle touch on her shoulder sending a jolt through her. She knew exactly who it was before she even turned around.

She didn’t need to look, but she did anyway. Slowly, deliberately.

Aaron.

He stood behind her, his smile easy, but there was something in his eyes—something soft, like he had been waiting for the right moment to approach. His voice was low and warm, just for her. “Cleo.”

She swallowed, feeling a mix of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite place. “Aaron.” She kept her tone casual, but inside, her pulse quickened.

The space between them suddenly felt smaller, and all the noise of the room seemed to fade into the background. She could hear the slight edge of his accent in his voice, the familiar sound she had replayed in her head more than once since their last encounter.

He tilted his head slightly, glancing at her, a subtle glint in his eyes. “Funny running into you here. Didn’t expect to see you at this thing.”

Cleo smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “London has a way of surprising you.”

He laughed softly, a quiet sound that made her heart skip. “You have no idea.” His gaze flickered over to the crowd, then back to her. “Mind if I steal you for a second? Or are you busy?”

Cleo hesitated, weighing her options. She could stay in the crowd, go along with the dinner and the event. But something about his presence was drawing her in, making her want to break away from the carefully constructed façade she’d built for herself.

With a small nod, she finally said, “I think I can spare a few minutes.”

Aaron’s smile deepened, a little relieved, as he stepped back to let her lead the way.

The moment felt lighter somehow—no longer just a chance encounter, but something more. Something new.

As they moved away from the hustle and bustle of the dinner, Cleo couldn’t help but wonder what this moment would lead to.

“For a recluse you’re out in the open.” She says.

Aaron chuckled softly, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “I guess I have my moments.” He glanced around, taking in the lively scene before them. “But sometimes, the right crowd can make things feel less... overwhelming. This doesn’t feel too bad.”

Cleo raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “And you’re really telling me you’re comfortable in a room full of people?”

He shrugged, a little self-deprecating, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m more comfortable in smaller spaces. But every now and then, I don’t mind stepping out of my shell. Just to keep the peace.” His gaze locked with hers. “Though, I’d say I’m happier when I’m just talking to you.”

Her breath caught for a moment at his sincerity, the directness of his words making her feel like the entire world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

She shifted slightly, trying to keep her cool. "You’re good at this," she said, trying to make light of the sudden weight in the air between them. "You make it sound easy."

Aaron leaned in just a little closer, his voice low. “It’s easy when it feels right.”

Cleo could feel her pulse pick up again. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Her mind was racing. Aaron was a man of few words, but when he did speak, it carried weight. There was something undeniably magnetic about him.

“Well, I’m glad this feels right.” She smiled, but inside, she couldn’t help but wonder how much of that pull was just the moment, and how much of it was something deeper—something they couldn’t ignore.

As the first notes of Jon B’s “They Don’t Know” started to fill the air, Cleo couldn’t help but feel the shift in the atmosphere. The soft, smooth melody was familiar, nostalgic even, and it brought with it an unexpected sense of intimacy.

She glanced at Aaron, who seemed just as attuned to the change in the room. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin. “I didn’t take you for a fan of the classics,” he said, his voice low as the lyrics began to flow softly through the space.

Cleo smirked, though her heart skipped a beat at the thought of the song playing right now, of all moments. "I know a good track when I hear one." She wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly felt a little more vulnerable, a little more aware of him standing so close.

The song’s smooth rhythm seemed to echo her thoughts, stirring something deeper between them—something unspoken. It wasn’t the kind of music you'd expect to hear at a high-end event, yet it was as if the universe had just decided to press play on something that felt like it was made for this moment.

Aaron’s gaze softened, and for a second, he stepped just a bit closer, the space between them shrinking. “You know,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed on hers, “I never thought I’d hear this song in a place like this. But it’s... fitting.”

Cleo tilted her head slightly, sensing the weight behind his words, but still keeping her composure. “Fitting for what?” she asked, her voice a little quieter now, the beat of the song giving everything a kind of timeless rhythm.

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes searching hers, before he answered, “Fitting for us. The way this moment feels.”

Her heart skipped again. She didn’t have to say anything. The unspoken understanding was there, hanging in the air between them. The song seemed to pull them closer, in its own subtle way.

Cleo took a deep breath, unsure of how far she wanted to let things go—unsure of how much she was ready to give in to this pull. But the moment felt so natural, so easy with him, that she could almost forget everything else.

Jon B’s smooth voice floated around them, and for a brief second, Cleo allowed herself to lean a little closer, feeling the soft pull of the music and the chemistry between them. “Well, looks like we’re dancing whether we like it or not,” she said with a playful smile.

Aaron’s grin widened, and without saying another word, he extended his hand to her.

Cleo hesitated just for a second, but then, without a word, she took it.

“What do you consider us?” He asks. She shrugs. “I guess friends who go on dates?” She says.

Aaron’s eyes softened as he looked at her, his fingers still gently holding hers. There was something in his gaze—curious, yet vulnerable, as though he was waiting for her answer to mean something deeper.

“Friends who go on dates, huh?” he repeated, a small laugh escaping his lips, but it was a little quieter than usual. He shifted, still holding her hand as they swayed to the slow rhythm of the song.

Cleo shrugged, trying to keep things light, but her mind was racing. She hadn’t really thought about what they were. In the back of her mind, there had always been something pulling her towards him. But she wasn’t the type to rush into defining things. She wasn’t even sure if she was ready for that kind of conversation yet.

“I mean, yeah,” she said, her voice calm but her heartbeat a little faster than usual. “We hang out, we talk, we enjoy each other’s company. Isn’t that what a date is?”

Aaron gave her a soft, knowing smile, his thumb grazing over her hand. He looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. “I guess,” he said quietly, “but it feels like more than that to me.”

Cleo’s chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. She looked up at him, her lips parting as if to say something, but no words came. There was a beat, a pause, where the whole world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, and she wasn’t sure how to respond.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low, almost hesitant. “I don’t want to rush anything, but... I feel like there’s something here. Something more than just friends. Do you feel it too?”

Cleo’s heart raced, and she suddenly felt the weight of the moment. Her instincts told her to be careful, to hold back. She didn’t know what to make of this feeling—of him. They had shared a connection from the moment they met, but this? This was different.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes avoiding his for a moment. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not sure what this is... yet.”

Aaron didn’t seem discouraged. Instead, he nodded, his expression softening with understanding. He gently squeezed her hand, a reassuring gesture. “That’s fair. We don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

Cleo nodded, relieved by his calm response. “Yeah,” she said quietly, her gaze returning to his. “We’ll figure it out when the time’s right.”

For now, the moment was enough. The song played on, and they continued to sway together, the connection between them undeniable but still unspoken, floating between them in the soft glow of the evening.

At her hotel, she’s editing posts for her Instagram then she’ll turn her attention to her YouTube channel. Being a full time lifestyle content creator she had to stay on edge.

Cleo sat at the desk in her hotel room, the soft glow of her laptop screen lighting up her face. The steady rhythm of her fingers typing was a comforting sound, but in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but think about the night with Aaron—the conversation they had, the way he made her feel, and that unexpected pull between them.

But work was always her anchor. She couldn’t afford to get lost in her thoughts right now.

Her Instagram posts needed editing first—captions, hashtags, filters—all the details that made her content stand out. As a full-time lifestyle influencer, it was a game of keeping everything fresh, relevant, and engaging. Her followers expected consistency, and she never wanted to fall short.

She scrolled through the photos she had taken earlier, adjusting the colors on one before moving on to the next. Each picture had its own story, each caption had its own voice. It was all about showing the world the side of her she wanted them to see—glamorous, yet real.

She sighed lightly, her mind briefly wandering back to Aaron. He had felt like a moment outside of all this—outside of the hustle, the branding, the influencer persona. She quickly shook her head, refocusing on her work.

Next up was her YouTube channel. The idea for her next video was already half-formed in her mind—behind-the-scenes footage of her day-to-day life, with a focus on some of her favorite skincare and beauty routines. Maybe she’d throw in a little Q&A with her followers to mix things up.

But before she dove into that, she had to make sure her social media platforms were all aligned. Her stories were updated with sneak peeks of what was coming, and she made sure to engage with the comments that were pouring in. She couldn’t afford to let her fans feel neglected, not when they were so loyal.

The pressure of maintaining this constant presence was always there, but it was something Cleo had learned to handle. It was a balancing act, keeping up with the demands of being a public figure, but also staying true to herself.

Just as she finished responding to a few comments, her phone buzzed on the desk. She glanced down, expecting it to be a work-related message, but saw a text from an unknown number.

She hesitated for a moment before opening it.

“Hey, it’s Aaron. Just wanted to check in and say I hope your day’s going well. Maybe we can catch up soon?”

Cleo smiled to herself, her heart skipping a beat. She had been wondering if he’d reach out, but seeing the message still surprised her.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she thought about how to respond. She didn’t want to seem too eager, but she also didn’t want to shut him out.

After a moment, she typed back:

“Hey, thanks for checking in. It’s going well, just staying busy as usual. Let’s catch up soon.”

She hit send and sat back, feeling that familiar rush that came with communication in the digital world—always a mix of excitement and a touch of uncertainty.

She quickly refocused on her YouTube plans, but part of her was already looking forward to whatever would come next with Aaron.

Soon a post from the event she recently attended she was tagged in. And so was Aaron.

Cleo’s phone buzzed again, this time with a notification from Instagram. She unlocked it and saw a new post from the event she had attended recently. It was a photo of the crowd, taken from the side, capturing a moment of laughter between her and Aaron. In the shot, they were both caught mid-conversation, her hand gesturing animatedly, and Aaron looking at her with that easy smile of his.

She felt a sudden warmth flood through her. It was a candid moment, unposed, but it had captured something genuine. The kind of connection she didn’t always expect from the world of curated, perfect photos.

The caption was lighthearted, tagging both of them, with a playful nod to the chemistry between them.

"When two people from opposite sides of the world meet... magic happens. 👏 #LA #LondonVibes #EventVibes #NewConnections #AaronAndCleo"

The post already had a few thousand likes, and the comments were rolling in, mixing curiosity with excitement. People seemed to be taking note of the chemistry between her and Aaron, but the last thing Cleo wanted was to deal with the frenzy of public speculation.

She paused for a moment, staring at the post. The idea of being linked to Aaron in the public eye was both exciting and a little overwhelming. She couldn’t help but feel a little exposed, but she also couldn’t deny how much she appreciated the unexpected connection they’d found.

A few notifications popped up, and she saw that Aaron had liked the post too, his own comment under the photo:

"Great to meet you in person, Cleo. Looking forward to more conversations soon."

Cleo smiled at his comment, finding it both sweet and refreshingly simple. His words didn’t feel forced or calculated. It was just... real.

She considered responding but stopped herself. It wasn’t about playing games; it was just that she wasn’t sure what to say in front of everyone. She’d rather keep things a little more private, especially with the whirlwind of attention that came with their public interaction.

Instead, she decided to focus on the work at hand. She responded to a few more Instagram comments and then set her phone down to finish editing her YouTube content.

But even as she worked, a part of her couldn’t help but think about what this could mean. The public tag, the interactions—they were all signals of something bigger. She didn’t want to rush into anything, but she couldn’t deny the connection.

And as the notifications kept coming, she realized that no matter how much she tried to focus on her work, a small part of her was already looking forward to whatever came next with Aaron.

Tags 🏷️

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#aaron pierre #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre smut #aaron pierre x black!oc #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x reader #terry richmond #yassbishimvintage #Spotify

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zorrasucia · 1 year ago

Text

Teach Me Tonight - Part 6

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] Part 6: [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Jealous!Carmy, SoftDom!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Make up Sex, Sex Toys, P in V sex, Oral (M and F receiving), Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

You were in over your head.

Some fashion vlogger had recorded a video in your store, giving it a glowing review and it had been good for business. Maybe too good. The store was now full of stylish teenagers with baggy jeans and designer bags, you had a new hire to train, and a local journalist had emailed you to ask for an interview.

He showed up a couple of days later, tall with dark hair, and every bit as stylish as you would expect a reporter from a fashion magazine to be. You had shown him around, let him take photos, talked about your favorite brands and decades of fashion, and complimented his printed shirt.

"It's from the seventies," he commented bashfully. "I'm a little obsessed."

And he talked about his ongoing quest for the perfect pair of bell bottoms. You showed him what you had in the store and promised to be on the lookout.

"You know, it's weird," he gestured to the side, where The Bear was. "I used to come here when they did sandwiches."

"They still do!" you beamed. "The fine dining is really good too. Well, I'm biased but-"

"Right! Being their neighbor and all," he concluded. You simply nodded along - no need to let him know the intricacies of your personal life.

"Let me buy you lunch," he offered. You were about to refuse when he added. "I'd love to try their food but I hate eating alone."

You accepted. It seemed harmless and it could be good for the restaurant too - maybe he knew a food critic and would recommend the place too.

Richie guided you both to a table with a smile, quickly catching up with your plan once you mentioned the interview, offering the journalist a sampler of the menu.

It was good - the food, the conversation. It caught you by surprise when Carmy stormed out of the kitchen, something angry in his stride.

"Are you enjoying the food?"

It was a simple enough question, it was the way he said it-

"It's excellent, thank you!" the journalist said earnestly, which only seemed to wind up Carmy even more.

"Good, great," he rasped, then turned towards you. "Can I talk to you?" it was said in that clipped tone that meant he was stressed and he didn't have good news.

You followed him to the back and touched his wrist briefly, trying to convey how important this was.

"Carm?" you asked, your face wrinkling in worry and confusion.

"You mad at me or something?" he asked.

"No! Just nervous, stressed... I don't even know - it's just the interview," you tried to reassure him. "Can we talk later, baby?"

"Sorry to interrupt," the journalist had walked up to you without either of you noticing. "I just wanted to know - are you the chef here?"

"He is, yes!" you smiled, thinking everything was going according to plan.

“Carmen Berzatto,” he said without offering his hand, his frown furrowed and something deadly in his stare.

The journalist gave one look at Carmy and his face shifted from friendly to scared. "I'll give you guys a minute."

Carmy was burning holes on the back of the guy's skull and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

"What's wrong with you?" you whispered.

"That fucking guy."

"He's the fucking journalist! Are you out of your mind, Carmen?" you were losing the last shred of patience you had left. "I was trying to do a nice thing and you- We can talk about this later at home, okay? Now leave, please."

You turned away from him and didn't look back until you had paid for lunch and walked the journalist out the door.

"I'm so sorry about him," you explained. "It wasn't personal."

"Don't worry about it. I worked as a server once. I swear working in a kitchen does things to your brain..." he mimicked a spiral by his temple. You winced.

"Yeah."

"Hope he doesn't bother you again," he said, which made your stomach drop. "I'll send you the article when it's done. And you have my number if you ever find those bell bottoms."

He waved goodbye and you huffed in defeat.

Suddenly, you were being hugged by Nat, her arms around your shoulders.

"Did Carmy send you?" you asked, patting her forearm.

"Kind of," she let go of you with a sigh. "He walked in the kitchen and kind of lost it? I had to get it out of him. And when he explained, I came over."

"Thank you," you said softly.

"He can be an idiot," she said.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"He loves you, though."

"I know," you said, rubbing your temples. It had been a long day. "I'll text him."

You were pacing the carpet, waiting for Carmy to get back from work. You had a list of things you wanted to tell him ready to go: that making a scene like that had been embarrassing and hurtful, that he had probably ruined the whole interview acting that way -

Your train of thought and frantic pacing was interrupted by the key in the door. Carmy walked inside, a defeated look on his face, and every cell in your body wanted to go and hold him but you stood still, arms crossed while he closed the door behind him.

"Hey," you said.

"Hey, I, uh," he stumbled. "What I said... What I did... I mean, even Richie thought that it was fucked up so..."

He let it hang there, in the air between you two, keeping his distance.

"Carm," you took a deep inhale. "I need you to understand the store is just as important to me as the restaurant is to you. It's finally going well. And maybe that means I have less time for you. I need to know that you'll be okay with it - with me being busy sometimes - that whatever that was won't happen again."

"I know, I know," he said looking at the ground. "I'm happy it's working out. I am."

You tilted your head. "Then what the hell happened?"

He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

"It's so stupid," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I got jealous. So fucking jealous. I had never- I didn't know what to do with it."

You uncrossed your arms - you actually hadn’t thought of that.

"No need to be, Carm," you reassured him.

"I just-" he blinked hard like he sometimes did when he was stressed. "This tall as fuck guy, with the fancy fucking shirt, just being charming around you..."

"You think I care about that shit?"

"I don't know, maybe?" Carmy looked at you with wide eyes. "I'm an asshole sometimes, I cancel plans, my family is a fucking mess-"

"Hey, I like Nat!" you interrupted his spiral.

"And I think she likes you better than me."

You stood in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry. I am," he said in the end.

You moved one step closer and pressed your forehead to his. "It's okay if you're jealous, Carm. Just- keep your cool if it happens again. Please," you said softly. "I don't know if I can handle you acting like that again."

He nodded. "Promise."

"I'm coming home to you, baby. No one else," you emphasized, running your hands over his chest.

"Mhmm," he tilted his head, eyes closed, like he wanted to kiss you but needed your permission. You surged forward, trapping him in a tight embrace and a searing kiss.

It got heated quickly.

He cornered you towards the kitchen, grabbing and pressing, until you were sitting on the counter, legs bracketing his hips, hands in his hair.

"Carmy," you gasped, as he kissed your neck like only he knew how. His tongue traced the contour of your collarbone and you moaned.

He undid the first few buttons of your blouse, burying his face between your breasts, kissing and nipping. You carded your fingers through his hair, and crossed your legs behind him, keeping him close. The heat between your thighs was getting more unbearable as time went by. He started kissing down, like he would eat you out, atoning for what happened, but you didn't want that.

You pulled on his hair and made him look up. "I need you inside me," he exhaled shakily. "Now."

He took a condom out of his back pocket while you unbuttoned his slacks, undressing him just enough to free his cock. His hands went under your skirt, eager, and moved your underwear to the side. When Carmy leaned to start fingering you, you grabbed his wrist.

"I need your cock inside me," you clarified.

You didn't want the tenderness of foreplay. You moved to the edge of the counter, taking his cock in hand and putting the condom on yourself. You guided his head to your entrance and felt him fill you out. It hurt a little, your pussy tight and unprepped, and weirdly that was what you wanted now. You whined once he bottomed out and he groaned at the feeling, the sound making you roll your eyes.

"Fuck," you held him close, arms around his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life. Without knowing where it came from, you said to the side of his face: "Show me I'm yours."

He inhaled sharply, his hands shaking where they held your waist. Then his hips moved back and forth in one long, agonizing stroke. You moaned. Again. And you held him tighter, letting drowned out cries pour out from your lips. He kept going for a little while, the pace so slow that it made you wonder whether all his anger had fizzled out by now.

Except he started going hard, hitting that spot that made you dizzy. Your breasts and legs were shaking with every thrust. You covered your mouth to stop from screaming.

"Holy shit, Carmy" you mumbled.

His hands touched all over, scratching your thighs and up, squeezing your hips, tracing your sides, caressing your arms and holding your wrists. You shivered. His cock kept hitting just right, his mouth exhaling on the side of your face. His hand traveled south, finding your clit like it was second nature, thumbing at it in small circles, just the way you liked.

"No one can fuck me like this," you whined. "No one makes me feel this good."

His hips stuttered and he moved so that your foreheads were touching and his eyes were staring right into yours, you could feel the sweat on his brow.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah," you replied, your jaw slack as you kept panting and moaning. His pace was so steady that it felt like Carmy could go on forever. Then, impatient, you started thrusting your hips against his, making it go twice as fast, making him groan into your mouth and start losing control.

"Fuck," he cursed, grabbing your hips, steadying himself. "I'm so crazy about you."

"Carmy," you managed to say, desperate, your voice getting high, and your nails scratching at his scalp.

His free hand squeezed your breast over your bra and you slipped your hands under his shirt, caressing the hair on his navel, and up his chest, pinching one of his nipples hard.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned again.

You were so close you could almost taste it. Just then you grabbed his face with both hands.

"Tell me," you pleaded. "Tell me you'll never do that again. Tell me I'm yours."

"Never. Never, I promise," Carmy breathed into your mouth, little desperate sounds escaping his throat. "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine."

He came with a strong exhale, drowning every other sound into your neck. His thumb on your clit kept moving until you joined him, completely spent, bracing on the edge of the counter to stop yourself from falling back.

He placed gentle kisses on your throat while you both recovered your breath. You clenched your walls around his cock, drawing a satisfied moan out of him.

"Did you get the guy's contact?" he panted against your skin.

"Yeah, why?" you replied ruffling his hair with your exhale.

"Thought I'd send him a cannoli or something," Carmy looked up from his place on your chest. "Make sure what I did doesn't make you look bad."

You ran your fingers through his hair, soothing.

"I don't think that's necessary but I'm sure he'll appreciate it. He said something about wanting to marry whoever made the desserts," you teased.

"Don't think Marcus'll be interested," Carmy inhaled deeply, his nose on the exact place you sprayed perfume every morning, though by now it had probably faded into a saltier scent. "When's the article coming out?"

"Couple of weeks," you hummed, caressing his back under his shirt. "We have time, baby. So much time."

You were leaning on the kitchen door, watching as Carmy and Syd posed against the counter. A photographer was giving them vague instructions about where to stand and where to look. She was also complimenting Carmy and hitting on him like she was getting paid overtime for it.

"Sydney, lean forward, yes, nice! Carmen, hit me with those blue eyes! Gorgeous, what a handsome guy!" she said with a cat-like smile.

The restaurant was going to be featured in Food & Wine, which entailed a photoshoot.

They had both started wearing their chef's whites, going for a more professional approach. Then, to make them more comfortable, the photographer asked them to change into their street clothes. It had done wonders for Syd, who was now showing off one of her mother's beautiful shirts with a proud smile on her face. It hadn't been quite as successful with Carmy - he had a tortured look in his eyes. Now he was standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, even more withdrawn than when they had started, every wink and cheesy one-liner from the photographer making him wince.

"Okay, Sydney, a little to the side. Exactly, chin up, please! And Carmen - why don't you stand this way? Yeah, let's show off those arms."

You bit your bottom lip.

"Carm?" you called him - he turned with wide eyes. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

He nodded. "Sorry, excuse us," he mumbled, leaving the kitchen quickly, trailing behind you. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry," he said, his blue eyes pleading.

"What for?"

"All the things she's saying..." he turned briefly, making sure the door was closed. "Fuck, I don't mean to-"

"You're not doing anything wrong, baby," you reassured him, cupping his face gently. "It looked like you needed a break, is all."

"Yeah," he exhaled heavily. "It's a lot."

You nodded. "The kitchen looks really nice," you commented to lighten the mood. They had done a deep clean the day before that had run into midnight.

"Thanks," he smiled. Then added: "This is a fucking nightmare."

You intertwined your fingers with his. "I think-" you paused, "that she wants you to look confident. That's why she keeps saying nice things."

"They don't feel nice," he bit his cheek.

You remembered how hard it had been for him to accept compliments for anything other than his cooking when you had first started dating. He would scoff and dismiss every word. Even now, sometimes it felt like he didn't quite believe them and maybe was just humoring you - which broke your heart. There wasn't enough time to unpack all that, so instead you leaned forward, placing one hand on his hip, whispering to his ear, flirtatious.

"Carm, I want you to go in there and eye fuck that camera like you would if it was me," he took a sharp inhale. "I will make it worth your while. Let you do anything you want to me," you promised.

He gulped. "Jesus," he mumbled, his pupils dilated.

You gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. "I'll tell them you'll be back in a few minutes," you said with a satisfied grin and went back to your place by the kitchen door.

"He went for a quick smoke," you lied to Syd.

When Carmy returned, he was in control, hands on his hips, like he had suddenly remembered he owned the place.

"Okay, guys, let's get this over with," he took his place next to Sydney, leaning on the counter and staring right into the lens, something defiant in his stance.

Your heart started racing. Even the photographer seemed affected by the shift.

"Uh, yes, good," after a few clicks she said: "I think we got it. Mmm, one more from this angle and we'll be good to go."

She led them to the main entrance to The Bear, Sydney crossing her arms and Carmy mirroring that same stance. They looked like they had stepped out of a magazine, modeling some understated and ridiculously expensive brand. Carmy looked in your direction for a second and licked his lips, before he turned back to the camera, unflinching and determined.

Another few clicks.

"Thank you guys, that would be all," the photographer went up to shake their hands and say her goodbyes. You were about to follow her out when Carmy took you by the wrist.

"See you tonight," he drawled and you felt yourself get wet.

"When I said you could do anything you wanted to me, I wasn't expecting this," you panted, your hands buried in Carmy's curls, as he kept kissing and licking every inch of your pussy. He was taking his sweet time too, biting on your thighs and going up to give some attention to your breasts and neck whenever he felt you were getting too close to your release.

"What were you expecting?" he asked, an amused glow to his face while he rested his chin on your hip, his mouth and nose shiny with your arousal.

"I don't know," you sighed, frustrated but so turned on. His hand caressed your pussy gently and you moaned. "Give you a blowjob, wear a silly costume, something like that."

"And are you into that?" he asked.

"I do like to suck your cock," you said honestly. Sometimes, with other guys, it had felt like a chore, not with Carmy, you loved to see him come undone, let go completely.

"See, the thing is," he kissed the curve of your hip, "if you gave me a blowjob it would be over so quickly," he exhaled right on your spread out clit which made you shudder. "And where's the fun in that?"

You giggled giddily when he squeezed your ass, manhandling you closer to his face, keeping his focus on your pussy.

"So you're just going to edge me until I beg?" you asked, half wanting for him to say yes.

"Don't worry," he gave a long lick, from the bottom of your lips to the top, making you arch your back and curse. "You will come," there was something dark in his eyes again, that same determination from the photoshoot back in his face - he was in charge. "When I want you to."

You shivered. "Fuck, Carm."

He started sucking on your clit, his tattooed fingers curling inside of you. You melted under his touch, feeling your pussy squeeze his fingers.

"Please, Carmy..."

He stopped sucking, messing with the rhythm, keeping you hanging by a thread.

"You will come," he repeated, "when I want you to," the speed of his fingers increased. "As many times as I want you to."

You moaned. His mouth latched onto your clit, licking until you were thrashing on the bedsheets, his forearm kept you in place on the mattress.

"Fuck, shit, baby," you mumbled. Your gazes met, his blue eyes fiery. He nodded and you came in a blur, desperately grabbing at anything - his hair, the bedsheets - the feeling all the more intense for the time he had spent working you up. He kept kissing and sucking until you stopped moaning and started chuckling breathily.

"Just like that," he praised, something playful in his voice and you would have teased back if you weren't so completely spent.

He kissed the outside of your folds, staying away from your clit and your entrance, just worshipping the skin around them and you caressed his hair lovingly.

"You make me feel so fucking good," you exhaled.

He climbed up your body and kissed you hard, mouth open, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His cock, hard inside his jeans, grazed the lower part of your belly, it made you tremble in anticipation. "You gonna fuck me?" you asked between one kiss and the next, your hips lifting up to ground on his.

He clicked his tongue. "Not yet," he got up and opened the drawer of your bedside table, taking out your rabbit vibrator. "This charged?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

"Good girl," he praised and your hand squeezed your breast almost unconsciously; something happened to you whenever he talked to you like that.

He lowered himself next to you, held up by one arm; his hand teased your pussy, his calloused fingers spreading wetness around.

"D'you need lube, baby?" he asked, more out of politeness than anything since he knew the answer very well.

"I think I'm okay, Carm," you laughed and he kissed the side of your face.

"Mhmm. So fucking hot," he whispered and you felt the dildo poking at your entrance.

You placed your hand on the side of Carmy's face, your thumb near the edge of his mouth. He sucked on it thoroughly, then let go with a pop. You whined needily.

"Please, please, please..." it poured out of you.

He bumped your forehead with his, his gaze was intense and hungry.

"Keep looking at me," he ordered, and you obeyed, keeping your eyes open even as the dildo went all the way inside you and filled you up deliciously. The coldness of the toy reminded you it wasn't Carmy's cock - but he was holding it, he was right there next to you. Your face contorted in pleasure.

"Yes, like that," he encouraged you, his words tickling inside your belly. He seemed to be overcome just looking at you - it made you feel wanted, adored, beautiful. You wanted to make him feel that way too.

"Carm," you gasped. "I need you to know- Oh, fuck," he pumped the toy inside you, slow, so slow. "I need you to know," you repeated through the fog of pleasure, "all those things the photographer said. They're true. Oh, my God, baby," his expression softened even as he buried the dildo deep inside you. "Your eyes are beautiful," another thrust, you caressed his face. "Your arms are so hot," you held onto the arm that was fucking you, squeezing the muscle there. "Shit. You're handsome, gorgeous, fucking- oh!" you blurted all at once, turning the compliments into moans. "I swear - fuck!" you held his gaze. "Can't believe you're mine."

He leaned forward, kissing you tenderly, swallowing your moans.

"I love you," he said softly.

"I love you," you replied, a choked out sound leaving your lips.

He turned on the vibration and watched you lose control, becoming desperate with lust, thrusting your hips wildly. He kept you there a bit longer than necessary, torturing you a little with how long he was drawing it out. It was so good, so fucking good.

"Carmy. Please," you begged.

"I know, I know," he soothed. "You're doing so good."

It sent a shiver down your spine and made the very last thread inside you snap.

"Oh," you exhaled, coming harder than you ever had, scratching at his forearm, screaming into the skin of his shoulder.

"Sound so nice," Carmy mumbled, looking as pussy drunk as a man could be without actually fucking one. "Baby, baby, baby."

You stayed there for a while, the dildo still inside you, and Carmy's hands touching your waist tenderly while you kissed.

After a long while of that, he got up from the bed, and started getting undressed while you watched. You bit your lip and put your head on your hand, enjoying the sight. He caught you staring.

"You really meant all those things you said," it began as a statement and ended as a question, Carmy's voice going up slightly.

"Every word," you said, taking out the dildo as Carmy showed you his cock. You licked your lips. "D'you mind? Me saying things like that?"

You wanted him to be confident but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

He shook his head. "I liked it," he admitted. He stood right by you, beside the bed, fiddling with the condom he had retrieved from your drawer. "Made me feel good."

"I'm glad, Carm," you reached out to caress his leg, following the line of muscle there. Saying he was beautiful once while you fucked wasn't going to change his mind, but you were willing to keep trying.

In the meantime, you could show him. Even with the exhaustion of everything Carmy had done to you, you wanted him inside you, wanted to see him roll his eyes in ecstasy. You crawled to where he was, kneeling, near the edge of the mattress. His cock was hard, pulsing, and it made your mouth water. He stood still, dropped the condom on the mattress, probably guessing what you were about to do.

When you were an inch away from his cock, he pulled your hair and stopped you.

He gestured at the vibrator. "Put that back inside you," he said in that demanding voice and you rushed to do as he said, only uttering a small moan when you had it inside you. He leaned over, tracing a long line from your neck to your ass, reaching to turn it back on on the lowest setting. You writhed a little but after a moment of adjusting to the feeling you were able to stay still and look at Carmy.

"Good girl," he said again and you keened, leaning forward to suck his dick. The sound he made once your mouth was on him was heavenly. "Holy fuck."

His hands were tangled in your hair and you wished you could deep throat without choking, just to watch him lose his mind completely. You settled for going as far as you could, getting every inch of him slick with saliva, making him groan and sweat. You looked up, his eyes were white and his face was flushed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to breathe. You hummed with satisfaction and that woke up his competitive streak.

He pulled on your hair lightly. "Gimme a second," he panted. You thought he needed a breather, but he actually moved to turn the vibrator up a couple of notches. You trembled and reached for his ass, bracing, leaving red scratch marks on the tender skin.

"Fuck, baby," you said between moans. "Not fucking fair."

"Mhmm," he smirked, caressing your scalp. It took all your willpower and concentration but you moved forward and went back to sucking his cock, feeling a pang of pride as he threw his head back and uttered some curse you couldn't quite decipher.

The vibrator set a pace you could follow, rocking forward as it pulsed, letting you give Carmy pleasure while you were ridiculously close to losing your mind yourself.

"Shit, baby," he gasped, his knees buckling for a second. "Make me feel- Fuck, y're so good, so good," he mumbled.

The steady pace of the vibrator was building up a tense knot inside you - you were close, and so it became a race of making Carmy come before you did. You doubled your efforts, speeding up, hollowing your cheeks, moaning into his skin.

"You're fucking killing me," he growled, pulling on your hair just the way you liked it, making you roll your eyes as you sucked on his length. You were completely overwhelmed; you couldn't help but whine over and over. "Holy fuck."

He stared right onto your eyes as he came. He had told you he didn't mind if you spit his cum but sometimes you felt like drinking it all, consumed with lust - today was one of those times. You stayed there, licking his slit, caressing his balls until he pulled you away.

"Fuck, baby," he sighed, kneeling on the carpet to look at you.

He was completely wrecked: face red and sweaty, hair messier than you had ever seen it and a glazed look in his eyes. He tilted his head to kiss you thoroughly, tasting the cum leftover on your tongue. You could finally let go. You put your hand between your belly and the mattress, maneuvering the vibrator so it hit right where you needed it and you came immediately, kissing Carmy, biting on his lips, and humping on the bed. It was too much and just enough.

Carmy helped you take it out once you started whining from feeling sore. He moved your body to lie comfortably on the bed, your head on the pillow and him next to you.

"Fucking insane," he exhaled. You chuckled in agreement, fucked out senseless. "D'you need anything?" he asked gently after a moment.

You shook your head, raising a hand to caress his face.

"I feel perfect, Carm."

You moved your index finger, tracing the contour of his eyebrows, the line of his nose, and the curve of his cheekbone.

“Pretty,” you managed to say.

He smiled and brought you closer, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, his arms around making you feel safe.

[Part 7]

@th3h0nkz

#me; looking at a calvin klein billboard: how are we feeling ladies?! 🥵#carmy berzatto smut #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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seungmins52ndhairstrand · 19 days ago

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Your group

Series masterlist

Chapter 1>>>

Name: ShiwonShine

Often shortened to Shishi (shee-shee)

Fandom name: Fairies (sometimes referred to as Tinker Bell)

Members: 5

Dorms:

Y/n + Nari

Hyerin + Ji-eun + Mija

Y/N

The oldest and the leader of the group, she is making a name for herself as one of the best girl group leaders. She gained popularity for herself and her group by being her chaotic self on livestreams, and after only months of idol-life, fans could easily make 30 minute videos of her iconic moments.

Positions: Leader, Ace

Animal: Sloth. Known for her sloth-like hugs, slow reactions and the way she will spend hours in the same position on the couch doom-scrolling.

Tinker Bell character: Silvermist. Kind, gentle, but will make a hilarious fool of herself if thrown into new situations.

NARI

The tsundere of the group, she really is super sweet but you have to peel the layers to get to it. On camera she looks quiet and stern but in the dorm during the nights she's LOUD, talkative and hilarious. She's just new to the whole idol world and unsure of how to act. Her smile always makes both the members and the fans melt.

Position: Main Rapper, lead dancer

Animal: Polar bear. Seems cold and distant but in reality she's just a big bundle of cuteness.

Tinker Bell character: Vidia. She can be snarky, sassy and sarcastic, but she always helps her friends, no matter what.

HYERIN

As the middle child, she gets away with a lot. Breaking rules, forgetting her image and her general "whatever" attitude. She's the rule breaker and the bad influence. If she can make the younger members do something bad, she considers the day well spent. She's feisty and outspoken and fans love her for it.

Position: Lead vocalist, sub rapper

Animal: Cat. She was once seen knocking over things just because she was bored.

Tinker Bell character: Fawn. Both due to the way she nearly fainted at the zoo because the animals were too cute, and due to the way she seems to sometimes accidentally disregard the rules.

JI-EUN

Stylish. She knows her brands. Clothes, makeup, bags, shoes you name it. She cares about how she looks but she's not vain. She just holds herself to high standards, which makes her a good idol and a good person. She's the one in the group with morals and actually tries to do things how they're supposed to, but she's not strict. She does it with soft care and jokes. Outside of that, she's known as chaos. Unintentional chaos.

Position: Main dancer, lead rapper, visual

Animal: Peacock. With her elegant beauty and colorful personality, she quickly gained the peacock as her signature animal.

Tinker Bell character: Rosetta. Pretty, and she knows it. Aware of the rules, yet always accidentally breaks them. Unintentionally hilarious.

MIJA

The maknae of the group, she is known as the cute one, but behind closed doors, during practice or sleepovers she is nothing but a chaos gremlin. She likes her cute image but she loves doing and saying things that, if the fans witnessed, would remove it immediately. She uses her position to her advantage, giving her members puppy eyes to get what she wants, although it hasn't worked since they debuted. Even after all that, she's known as the pabo of the group. She's clumsy, drops everything and walks into glass doors on the daily.

Position: Maknae, main vocalist, sub dancer

Animal: Monkey. Adorable, but don't trust that face, she WILL take your fries and sprint away from you.

Tinker Bell character: Iridessa. Tries her best, she really does. Her sweetness and genuine child-like wonder makes people fall in love with her after just minutes.

#stray kids #stray kids smau #stray kids x reader #skz #skz smau #stray kids fanfic

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mingiatz · 3 months ago

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Summary: Harin lands a job as a publicist at KQ Entertainment, thanks to her friend Hana, but working with idols—especially Seonghwa—proves more challenging than expected. Seonghwa, known for his fleeting romances, is the last person she wants to be drawn to, especially when she’s dealing with the fallout of her own toxic relationship. But as their professional and personal lives collide, unspoken tension and unresolved emotions surface.

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x OC (Harin)

Trope: Idol x Company Staff

Genre: Romance, Angst, Slow Burn, Push & Pull Dynamic

Featuring: ATEEZ (being menaces), Hana & Emilia (From previous stories), OCs

This Series will have multiple Chapters with around 4000 words. I hope you like it. Please be kind this is my first Fanfiction and English is not my first language. (I am open for constructive criticism). I will try to upload a chapter everyday.

Masterlist

| Next Chapter |

Prologue

Harin’s POV

The city skyline blurred past the taxi window as Harin clutched the strap of her bag, fingers twisting the leather absentmindedly. The rhythmic hum of the engine should have been soothing, but her mind was anything but calm.

She was on her way to KQ Entertainment, one of the biggest companies in the industry. A new beginning. A fresh start. The realization settled in her chest, a mixture of nervous excitement and overwhelming pressure.

She exhaled, glancing down at her phone. 7:45 AM. Fifteen minutes until she was scheduled to meet the HR representative. The email she had received a few days ago was still fresh in her mind.

Congratulations! You have been selected for the position of Public Relations Officer at KQ Entertainment.

It had felt surreal reading those words, as if they belonged to someone else. She had dreamed of working in PR for years, but landing a job at KQ—one of the top entertainment agencies in Korea—felt almost too good to be true.

And it wouldn’t have happened without Hana.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she thought about her best friend. Hana had always believed in her, even when Harin doubted herself.

"You're made for this job," Hana had told her when she first hesitated to apply. "You’re sharp, hardworking, and you actually care about the artists you’d be representing. That’s rare in this industry."

Harin had been skeptical. PR in the entertainment world was cutthroat, and she had spent the last two years working at a smaller firm, handling crisis management and brand deals for mid-tier influencers and actors. But Hana’s encouragement had given her the final push to apply for KQ.

And now, here she was.

“Miss, we’ve arrived.”

The driver’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Harin quickly paid the fare and stepped out, gripping her bag a little tighter as she took in the sight of KQ Entertainment’s towering glass building.

It was massive, sleek, and intimidating. Employees in stylish office wear walked in and out, some holding coffee cups, others talking into earpieces. The lobby alone looked more like the entrance to a luxury hotel than an office space.

She swallowed hard. This was real.

Taking a steadying breath, she adjusted her blazer and walked inside.

The lobby was bright and polished, the marble floors reflecting the morning light streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows. A large LED screen displayed promotional content—one moment showing a teaser for a new artist, the next switching to a clip of Ateez’s latest comeback.

Harin tried not to stare, but the sheer grandeur of it all was impossible to ignore.

"Stay confident, act like you belong," she reminded herself as she approached the front desk.

“Excuse me, I have an appointment with HR,” she said, keeping her voice steady.

The receptionist, a well-dressed woman with a professional smile, checked her schedule. “Harin-ssi? You’re here for the publicist role, correct?”

Harin nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Perfect. Someone from the PR team will escort you up shortly. Please wait here.”

She thanked her and took a seat near the large windows. Her heart pounded.

This was it. The moment where her career truly began.

✧˖*°࿐ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✧˖ ✧˖*°࿐ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✧˖ ✧˖*°࿐ *

A few minutes later, a woman in her early thirties approached her. She had a sleek bob haircut, sharp eyes, and an air of quiet authority.

“You must be Harin. I’m Yoo Jisoo, the Head of Public Relations at KQ. Welcome to the team.”

Harin quickly stood and bowed. “It’s an honor to be here.”

Jisoo smiled slightly. “We’re glad to have you. Come, I’ll show you around.”

As they walked through the hallways lined with platinum records and framed group photos, Jisoo explained the department’s structure.

“You’ll be working primarily with our artist PR team. Your role will include handling media relations, managing social media engagement, and overseeing brand collaborations. Occasionally, you’ll be assisting with damage control and crisis management.”

Crisis management. That was the part Harin was both confident in and nervous about.

Jisoo glanced at her. “Are you comfortable working in high-pressure situations?”

Harin nodded. “I have experience in it from my last job. I handled PR for rising actors, so I’ve dealt with scandals, dating rumors, and even legal cases.”

Jisoo seemed pleased. “Good. You’ll need that here.”

Harin followed her into a modern, open-plan office space, where several employees were already busy typing on their laptops or talking into headsets.

“This is the PR floor. You’ll have your own workspace here.”

She gestured to a desk near the windows, where a computer and neatly stacked files waited for her.

Harin felt a thrill of excitement.

Her own desk.

Her own space in KQ Entertainment.

Jisoo continued, handing her a schedule. “Your first few weeks will be focused on learning the protocols, understanding each artist’s brand, and working closely with senior staff before taking on solo responsibilities.”

Harin nodded. She expected nothing less. KQ was an elite company, and she was ready to prove herself.

Jisoo paused and then added, “You’ll be assigned to one of our top groups soon.”

Harin blinked. “Already?”

Jisoo nodded. “Yes. Since you have experience handling public figures, we want to integrate you into the team quickly. It’s a lot of responsibility, but from your recommendations and your interview, we believe you can handle it.”

Harin tried not to panic.

This was happening fast—faster than she had expected. But wasn’t this what she wanted? A challenge? A step up in her career?

She straightened her posture. “I’m ready for it.”

Jisoo smiled, as if she had expected that answer. “Good. You start tomorrow.”

✧˖*°࿐ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✧˖ ✧˖*°࿐ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✧˖ ✧˖*°࿐ *

That evening, Harin sat in a quiet café, staring down at her untouched cup of coffee. Her first day had gone well. Better than she had hoped.

Still, nerves bubbled under her skin. Tomorrow, she would find out which artist she would be assigned to.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Hana.

She smiled and picked up.

“How did it go? Are you now a PR queen?” Hana’s teasing voice made her laugh.

“Not quite yet,” Harin admitted. “But it was a good first day.”

“I knew it! I told you this job was made for you.”

Harin exhaled, feeling the tension in her chest loosen. Hana had always been her anchor.

“You were right,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “It’s a lot to take in, though. They’re assigning me to a top group already.”

“Ooh, exciting! Do you know which one?”

“Not yet. I’ll find out tomorrow.”

Hana hummed thoughtfully. “Well, if it’s Ateez, tell Mingi and Jongho I said hi.”

Harin rolled her eyes. “You and your Ateez connection.”

“What can I say? I have good taste in friends.”

Harin chuckled but didn’t respond. Would she really be assigned to Ateez? It was possible, given their popularity.

If that happened… well, she’d deal with it when the time came.

For now, all she could do was prepare for whatever tomorrow would bring.

And hope she didn’t completely mess it up.

Masterlist

| Next Chapter |

Disclaimer:This is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and scenarios in this story are entirely fictional and not intended to reflect the real lives of the members of Ateez or any other individuals. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment purposes.

#8 makes 1 team #ateez #ateez fanfic #atzblogging #ateez fanfiction #ateez fic #fanfction ateez #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fanfiction

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halfetirosie · 6 months ago

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🎠 Important info from the [Sleepless Fun Fair] PV! 🎠 (Reaction post)

1) 🚨🚨🚨 ALERT: KUYORB HAS BREACHED CONTAINMENT!!!! 🚨🚨🚨

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Lemme tell you---when I first saw Kuyorb in the bag during the design reveal, I just----😭🙏

You know how I mentioned in Greenwood Miracle, when I saw Quincy's stubble, I could just FEEL the collective fandom losing their ever-loving minds?

THAT. That was how it felt to see the Kuyorb. ♡

And now the lil' freak has been freed! Say your prayers!!!

2) NOT THE COUPLES TEACUPS!!!!!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

IT'S TOO CUTE, I WON'T SURVIVE!!!!

---and how Eiden's cup has (I assume) hot cocoa while Peepaw's has green tea, for his sensitive old-man taste buds...! (≧∇≦)

I have to wonder, though; in whatever room this is supposed to be, did Eiden provide the personalized cups, or did Kuya?? It's cute to think about either way, but I think it's cuter to think of Kuya magicking-up these cups with the catty excuse of, "so the young master doesn't foolishly mix up our drinks and steal my drink by mistake"---when really he just wanted to do cute couple things with Eiden. 😈

3) Not Olivine's background being my default home-decor style---

That Symbolism™ of the tiny Leopard-Eiden on the big Cat-Olivine is so goddamn CUTTEEEEE!!!!! FUCK!

4) Fucking hell, man---

OKAY, so of course, I love the adorable lil' fluff balls cuddled together on the present, in the Darling-snowman, and in the bag---

----WAIT. HOW AM I ONLY NOTICING NOW THAT BLADE'S BAG IS ONE OF THOSE SPECIAL POPCORN BUCKETS THAT THEY'VE BEEN MAKING FOR MOVIES RECENTLY?!?!?! 🤯🤯🤯

5) Fans: We want to see Kitsune-Kuya!

Devs: We have Kitsune-Kuya at home.

Kitsune-Kuya at home:

---I'm just kidding; I know they left out the real fox traits in this one probably just to have more variety in Kuya's cards. Can't be too samey-samey. I ain't mad.

This gesture of teasingly holding up the fox headband is sexy as hell.... (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝)

6) SAVE ME, MODERN-AU WINTER KUYA. MODERN-AU WINTER KUYA, SAVE ME. 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Kuya be lookin' fine as fuck in this more modern design, and I'm obsessed. Like, he always looks like the kind of man that will absolutely ruin your life (on-brand for him), but I think this design hits a bit different for me because the clothes are a little more "real."

Now it's like he's Mr. Ruin Your Life FOR REALSIES After Your Fateful Meeting At The Coffee Shop.

❤️❤️❤️❤️ _(´ཀ`」 ∠)

7) The lap-pillow, head-cradling, Eiden wearing Kuya's headband....

Lemme tell you, after the nightmare of Kuya's last R5, I am extremely pleased that we're getting a 💜Soft Kuya 💜 for this intimacy scene.

I hope that Kuya will be chill and 0% toxic for the entirety of this event, please and thank you. Gotta give me time to chill from all of the recent evil-writing!

8) HIS BIG OL' WAVE!!!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

It's giving such puppy energy, I'm having heart palpitations!!!!!!! ﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

9) Blade is determined to rot my teeth with all of his sugary sweetness, dammit!!!!

This is, hands-down, my top favorite Blade outfit. Our mans got the pastel palette, stylish hat, peek-a-boo torn jeans and crop top, and accessorized to hell and back!!!!

Our Sweet Diet-Decora Prince!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

10) HAND-HOLDING HAND-HOLD HAND-HOLDING HAND-HOLDING HAND---

11) Honestly, it is so refreshing seeing Olivine purely just enjoying himself; letting himself indulge in this he was never allowed to growing up (shoutout to Olivine's shitty parents, I hate you guys). ( ´ ˘ ` )

ALSO, THE PROPHECY IS TRUE!!!! I PREDICTED MUSTACHE-OLIVINE!!!! 🤣🤣🤣

(JK obviously, but now this got me wondering about mustache-olivine even more....)

12) *Immediately gives his belly raspberries*

(Is it just me, or does anyone else think Olivine's hair looks nicer than usual in this SSR? Did he start using a new shampoo or something?)

13) YASSS, QUEEN!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉👏👏👏

WEAR THAT SEXY LINGERIE!!!! 🔥🔥🔥

It's so nice seeing Olivine out here, living his best life, going out of his way to wear some winter-themed lingerie---I think it's partly to rile up Eiden, but mostly as a kind of self-care. We love to see it!!! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

🎠 End of report! 🎠

#nu carnival #nu: carnival #nu carnival event pv #nu carnival olivine #nu carnival eiden #nu carnival kuya #nu carnival blade

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starclast · 2 months ago

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Heeeeeeeeeeey theeeeeere!! 🙃 It's been a little while but I have to happily say that...thanks to the 2nd major update in Fields of Mistria, the game now plays much better in my laptop!!! 😆✨✨ It practially never crashes and it almost never slows down like before so, I've been playing nonestop whenever I have free time 🤗💕💕 I already ended my first year in Mistria so, let me show you the outfits I wore for each season! ☺️🌟

My farmer Melin doesn't have blonde nor brown hair. I think it's more like...a blondish kind of brown??? 😶 I don't really know how else to describe it (yet to compare with the actual sprites In game). In any case, I don't have THAT color among my usual pencils so I had to use a very, VERY old one from my childhood (the bag where it was it's so old that it practially tears apart whenever I touch it :v). I gave her clothes mostly violet variants because I thought it would fit her and it would help her stand out a bit 🙃

When I was drawings these first two outfits I used a Sharpie my mom gifted to me. Sadly, althought it's from the same brand of another one I have, I realizad too late that the lines it draws are thicker than how I usually like them 🥲 Still, since I already started with it, I decided to use it till the end with these outfits. I also didn't have a lighter Violet to draw the maid outfit so...I had to improvise combining a pink and light strokes of Violet on it 😅 Still, it turned out quite good! 🧐✨✨ (P.S: This was my original outfit for summer, but since I updated the window to a higher version and such, I had to play from the beginning and this time I couldn't buy the maid outfit on time 😅💦 So yeah, I used a different one but I still prefered this so I drew it 👍✨).

Fall is without a doubt my FAVORITE outfit out this first year combinations 🤭💕💕 It's quite simple yet SO stylish, it kind of makes Melin look like a Parisian girl! 🤗✨✨ For these drawings I used my usual Sharpie and instead used the new one to draw the letters so...now you can actually see how much of a difference that is ✍️😌✨

Finally for winter, I wanted Melin to wear something that it would make her easier to spot on the snow, so I gave up the Violet colors and instead went for this combination 🙃👍 Althought winter is usually my favorite season in farming games, I have to admito that I...can't stand the cold, like, AT ALL 😶 So I gave her some needed long pants to handle it 🥺

I really enjoyed making these, so I'll probably do this again once I finish my second year. So until then, hope you had a good time in Mistria!! 🤗💕💕💫

#Fields of Mistria #Fields of Mistria fanart #fields of mistria farmer #Fom #Fom fanart #fom farmer #Fom OC #My farmer #colored sketch #colored pencil #Little art rant #traditional drawing

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whostheweakersexnow · 2 months ago

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Camp Mix-Up

Chapter 1: The Arrival

It was supposed to be the perfect summer. For the boys of the elite Westbridge Academy, this camp was meant to be a prestigious pre-season training program—a place where wealthy, talented young athletes could hone their skills before returning to their private schools and travel teams.

For the girls from Oakridge Community Center, it was supposed to be an opportunity of a lifetime—an escape from their struggling neighborhoods to immerse themselves in the performing arts at a renowned ballet camp.

But something went terribly, terribly wrong.

When the buses pulled up to their respective destinations, confusion settled in almost immediately.

A group of well-dressed teenage boys stepped off a sleek, air-conditioned coach onto the grounds of Camp Swanbrook, expecting pristine soccer fields and state-of-the-art training facilities. Instead, they were met with peeling wooden signs reading "A Celebration of Dance & Self-Expression!" and an array of pastel-colored buildings adorned with painted ballet slippers.

Meanwhile, a ragtag group of girls, many wearing second-hand sneakers and carrying duffel bags patched with duct tape, were dropped off at Brightwood Elite Soccer Camp, where polished turf fields stretched as far as the eye could see, and a towering, glass-walled clubhouse overlooked the grounds.

By the time both groups realized the mix-up, their respective buses had disappeared down the winding roads, leaving them stranded in worlds that were not their own.

Chapter 2: The Boys' New Look

At Camp Swanbrook, the boys of Westbridge Academy were led toward a small wooden building where they were handed their "camp uniforms." Expecting stylish tracksuits or maybe some basic athletic wear, they were instead met with bundles of fabric in soft pinks and pastel tones.

"What the hell is this?" asked Nathan, holding up a wrinkled pink tank top with Camp Swanbrook embroidered in white cursive.

One of the camp counselors, an elderly woman named Miss Janine, smiled kindly. "That's your day uniform, dear. Go ahead and change. You'll also find your skirts and stockings in your cabins."

"Skirts?" James, the team captain, practically choked on the word.

A few moments later, reality set in as they were directed to their rundown barracks, where metal cots lined the walls, their thin, lumpy mattresses barely looking fit to sleep on. At the foot of each bed was a folded gingham skirt, white knee-high stockings, and a small plastic package containing… pastel pink cotton panties.

"You've gotta be joking," muttered Ethan, gripping the underwear between two fingers like it was toxic waste.

But there was no way around it. They were told that camp rules required them to wear the official uniform at all times. Their designer clothes, including their luxury-brand boxers, were taken and locked away.

With no other choice, they changed into the humiliating attire. The skirts, slightly faded from years of use, were just long enough to provide some coverage but short enough to make them feel exposed. The knee-high stockings felt strange against their skin, and the pink tank tops clung awkwardly to their muscular frames.

They expected laughter from the other campers—but there were no other boys. They were alone, a team of humiliated athletes stranded in a world designed for ballerinas.

Chapter 3: The Girls' Surprise Upgrade

Meanwhile, at Brightwood Elite Soccer Camp, the girls from Oakridge Community Center were preparing for the best summer of their lives.

Upon arrival, they were each led to private villas—yes, villas. Unlike the broken-down community housing they were used to, these lavish lodgings had queen-sized beds, private bathrooms, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the fields.

Inside their rooms, they found brand-new soccer uniforms made by the most prestigious sports brands—Nike, Adidas, and Puma. Each girl was given a full wardrobe: jerseys, shorts, socks, and even a personalized tracksuit.

"This… this is ours?" asked Maria, staring wide-eyed at the embroidered emblem on her new jersey.

"You bet it is," grinned Coach Ramirez. "You're here as part of our Elite Soccer Development Program. We expect hard work, but you'll be treated like professionals."

For the girls, it was like stepping into a dream.

For the boys, it was a nightmare.

Chapter 4: Ballerinas in Training

At Camp Swanbrook, the suffering had only begun.

Day one introduced them to ballet class.

Their morning attire was even worse than their day uniforms—white tights, pink leotards, and a stiff tutu. There was no escape from the humiliation, no chance to protest. The camp staff simply wouldn’t hear it.

"You signed up for this camp," Miss Janine said cheerfully. "And at Swanbrook, we believe in total commitment!"

"But we didn’t sign up—" James started, only to be cut off.

"Nonsense! Now, everyone to the barre!"

Their first challenge? Learning how to curtsy.

“Hands on your skirt,” Miss Janine instructed, “bend slightly, and bow your head. Come now, show respect!”

The boys hesitated, but the stern gaze of the instructors left no room for argument. With cheeks burning, they gripped the edges of their tutus and performed the dainty movement.

Their embarrassment grew as they were introduced to the ballet barre.

"Point your toes! Extend your arms gracefully!"

But grace was the last thing the boys had. Their soccer-toned legs wobbled, their arms flailed, and they stumbled over each other. By the end of the session, their once-proud confidence was in shambles.

It didn’t help that the camp staff treated them like delicate dancers, constantly correcting their posture, reminding them to be "elegant," and worst of all, referring to them as “the girls.”

“That was an adorable first attempt, girls!" one of the instructors said cheerfully.

James’s fists clenched. They weren’t used to being laughed at. They were supposed to be admired.

Now, they were a joke.

And the worst part? The mirrors.

Everywhere they turned, their own reflections mocked them—tough, athletic young men reduced to pink-clad dancers struggling to keep up with the graceful movements of the instructors.

Chapter 5: The Girls Take Over

Meanwhile, at Brightwood, the girls thrived.

Under the guidance of top-tier coaches, they improved rapidly. By the end of the first week, they were running drills that would have intimidated most boys.

Even better, they had the run of the camp. The expensive clubhouse was open to them, filled with leather couches, widescreen TVs, and endless snacks. The same boys who would have laughed at them in the real world were now stuck wearing pink tutus while they lived the dream.

During one of their team meetings, Maria smirked.

“You know,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “the boys must be miserable right now.”

“I’d pay money to see them,” Brianna laughed.

Luckily for them, they wouldn’t have to wait long.

Chapter 6: The Performance

After weeks of training, the ultimate humiliation awaited: the final performance.

Meanwhile, the girls had spent the summer excelling in their new environment. Dressed in their professional-grade tracksuits, they arrived at the performance in a sleek, air-conditioned luxury bus, their confidence soaring.

The boys, however, were packed onto a rickety yellow school bus that reeked of sweat and mildew, already dressed in their ballet outfits. The moment they stepped off the bus, the packed audience—consisting of their families, camp sponsors, and, of course, the girls—burst into laughter and excited whispers.

James clenched his fists, his face burning with embarrassment. He could see his father, a prestigious businessman, sitting in the front row with an expression of pure shock. The same man who had once called him a "future champion" now watched as he tiptoed across the stage in pink slippers and a tutu.

And so, with nowhere to hide, the wealthy soccer stars-turned-ballerinas performed in front of a packed house, their once-untouchable egos shattered.

The girls, meanwhile, leaned back in their seats in their VIP section, watching with satisfaction while sipping complimentary drinks from the lounge. They had spent the summer as champions, adored and respected, while the boys had been humbled in the most unexpected way.

“What a beautiful performance,” Maria teased, nudging Brianna.

Brianna grinned. “I think we won this summer, don’t you?”

As the boys twirled across the stage, knowing there were cameras, knowing there was no escaping this humiliation, they realized something:

For the first time in their privileged lives…

They weren’t the stars.

They were the joke.

And the girls?

The girls had never felt more powerful.

As the final curtain fell, one thing was certain—no one would ever forget the summer of the Great Camp Mix-Up.

#gender role reversal #champion girls #boys in skirts #ballet boys #football girls #class clashes

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amomentwiser · 1 month ago

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Criminal Couture - Chapter 3

“Did you just… smell me?” Will asks incredulously.

“Difficult to avoid, when your atrocious aftershave is clogging up the atmosphere. I’ve been choking silently since you got here.”

“Well that’s just a matter of practise, doctor — a few nights with me and you won’t choke so easily anymore.” Will winks.

Hannibal drops his fork. It clatters against his plate with a resoundingly sonorous sound that echoes through his house, informing every room of the embarrassing lapse in his stoicism. Will smirks.

Hannibal wants to garrotte Will for getting a reaction out of him. He clears his throat and tries to sound respectable again. “So, you saw me weeks ago. Have you informed the authorities?”

“Nope, and I don’t intend to.”

“Why is that?”

“Firstly, I wouldn’t deprive the world of such grand levels of hotness by putting you behind bars. That would be just cruel.”

Hannibal makes a point of looking annoyed this time. His lips don’t so much as twitch in the direction of a smile. Will sighs in defeat.

“But more seriously, I’ve done the whole protecting-the-public-at-the-cost-of-my-health thing. I don’t care about justice, and I don’t care about protecting the ‘good citizens of America,’ not anymore. Because honestly, if you could see the insides of everyone’s heads like I can, you’d realize they’re all pigs.”

Hannibal’s eyes sharpen with interest. “I wholeheartedly agree.”

“So, I’m not gonna go to the police. That’s not why I’m here.” Finished with his food, Will dabs his mouth with a napkin, pushes back his chair, and walks over to retrieve the garment bag, which Hannibal had deposited on the mantle earlier.

“I’m here because I saw you in action — and no matter how many bodies you stabbed and twisted into pretzels that day, that plastic suit was the biggest crime in progress. Because it was a crime against fashion.” Will shakes his head as if in deep mourning. “You can kill whoever you want, but that outfit? It was just tragic. As a tailor, I cannot, in good conscience, let you roam around in something that ugly.”

Hannibal gapes. There was so much rude in that one-minute spiel that his brain stops working, overloaded by the options of whether Will deserves to be shot, stabbed, sliced, maimed, marinated, braised, tortured, or quickly eliminated in one blow.

“So!” Will continues, oblivious. “I took the liberty of making you a custom new plastic suit. Something that complements your aesthetic instead of merely covering it up.”

He unzips the bag and presents his creation with a flourish. “This, is the new-and-improved Murder Coverup Suit™ — as functional as any traditional PVC suit, but with bespoke tailoring in the style of all your classic, high-end Italian brands. In fact, this is the latest, most advanced technology in the market in criminal-wear, because no one else in the world is researching and developing products in this niche. Gucci and Versace can’t compete with this, because I’m the only one who’s making them.” Will announces proudly. He extends a sleeve for Hannibal to feel. The sleeve is lightweight and cool under Hannibal’s touch, and the texture really does feel far better than what he currently owns.

Hannibal tries to say so, but Will is on a roll now. His enthusiasm climbs as he speaks and he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s getting louder with every word.

“This is the best and most stylish in serial killer-wear. I call it Criminal Couture. It’ll make all your admirers swoon, even before you suffocate them with chloroform! It’s Cannibal Chic. Villian Vogue. Completely exclusive, one of a kind, handmade pieces — you won’t find these on the runways of Paris or Milan, no sir. And, it must be your lucky day, because I’m giving you first dibs!” Will finishes excitedly. (He had practised giving this speech to his dogs at home. Being a self-made businessman, he has gotten very good at sales pitches.)

Hannibal blinks. His face is completely blank because, for the first time ever, he genuinely has no idea what expression to deploy. In all of his adult life, he has never, not once, been rendered speechless before.

His first instinct, of course, is to get rid of whatever is causing this overwhelm — “When in doubt, go stabby stabby” has been the guiding philosophy of his life since he was a child. In fact, Hannibal has a quite a vast arsenal of mantras that he lives by:

“When things get scary, snappy neckie.”

“Bite first, ask questions later.”

“A scalpel in the sleeve keeps unintended witnesses from going to the police.”

“If they’re rude or cringe, prick ‘em with a syringe.”

“Keep your conscience empty and your freezer full.”

“An unethical hypnosis a day keeps nosy FBI agents at bay.”

He has always followed these cardinal rules, and they have all served him remarkably well thus far.

However, in this particular instance, his desire to kill is dwarfed by his desire to acquire a gorgeous new piece for his wardrobe. He has always been obsessed with all things sartorial; how could he possibly be expected to pass up this opportunity?

And, though he doesn’t care to admit it, his desire to possess the special suit is accompanied by a new, rare desire that he has never felt so strongly before— the desire to possess someone. The desire to get to know them better. Instead of the usual disdain for inferior company — a feeling he gets every time he attends a party — Hannibal feels an inexplicable pull to spend more time with Will, to ask questions, to know exactly how the gears of his mind turn. Everything about him is fascinating.

》 ao3

#crack fic #nbc hannibal #hannigram fanfiction #hannibal lecter #dark will graham #hannibal #hannigram #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fluff and humor

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manic-maniac-man · 1 month ago

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HUgE Oct 2012