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etherealising · 26 days ago

Text

one | christmas (baby please come home)

pairing(s): carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | fem!reader x original male character | the bear x fem!reader

synopsis: you reunite with carmy at the berzatto family christmas, five years after your falling out.

warning(s): angst | fluff | pining | semi-unrequited love | minimally edited

wc: 7.8k

READER HAS A NICKNAME BUT OTHERWISE AMBIGUOUS

A quiet Christmas playlist drifted through the confines of the house as three friends sat gathered around the kitchen table spending much-needed time together catching up while building gingerbread houses, the various glasses of wine shared between the three of them lowering their inhibitions.

“Baby! You’re not even looking at the camera.” Natalie’s slurred words caused a fit of giggles to spill out of you as you held up your dilapidated gingerbread house whatever artistic skills you possessed washed away with all the wine swishing through your bloodstream.

You positioned yourself once more smiling at Nat’s phone as you held the slowly crumbling house, Pete instinctively leaned over to join you for the photo only for his reindeer antler headband to poke you in the eye. Both of you fell into a fit of hysterics as Nat giggled behind her phone most likely snapping blurry photos.

None of you could be sure how you’d gotten to the point of being wine-drunk on Christmas Eve. The celebrations began when Nat and Pete picked you up from the airport earlier that morning, the three of you deciding on a quiet night in with a home-cooked meal, followed by a night of Christmas festivities courtesy of Pete which you could never turn down especially when seeing how excited he always got. You remembered Natalie listing off her worries for tomorrow’s dinner as she poured the three of you wine, that first glass somehow turned into two empty wine bottles in no time as the three of you enjoyed each other’s company.

“Wait, wait we’ve got to get a picture in our matching pjs!” Pete was by far the most sober of the three of you and that was probably how he won the game of rock, paper, scissors that forced you into wearing the set of Christmas pajamas he bought you that were a replica of the ones he and Nat currently had on.

You shook your head immediately, not wanting any more photo evidence of this night, especially knowing Nat was probably sending these pictures to Mikey who would most definitely never let you live down matching with the married couple. “I think we have more than enough pictures.” The words felt heavy as they rolled around on your tongue and you couldn't help but giggle at how slow you felt like you were speaking.

Nat moved around the table to your side wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned her chin against your shoulder and her cheek pressed into yours. “Pretty please Baby, we only get to do fun things like this a couple times a year when you visit.” She moved her face away to give what you assumed were supposed to be puppy dog eyes but was really just her concentrating extremely hard. “If you love me you’ll do it.”

You rolled your eyes pretending to be put out by the married couple, not wanting them to know just how much fun you were actually having. While you were thankful for your success and the career you built up for yourself, that meant that you spent the majority of your time traveling and working, and while it was nice to see the world, sometimes you wished you could take more than a quick beat for visits like these. You hadn’t visited Chicago as much as you would’ve liked since moving to the West Coast, which meant you saw less and less of the family that made you one of their own all those years ago. You watched as Nat and Pete struggled to set up the phone in the living room for the group photo, giggling at how they seemed to feed off of each other as though they shared a single brain cell between the two of them.

Nat waved you over once they got the phone set up, “Oh! We should do like one of those awkward photo shoots.”

You groaned, shaking your head back and forth while Pete stood next to you aggressively nodding his head in approval, the two of them were so goofy together you’re unsure why you ever thought you’d have an actual choice in how this unprofessional impromptu photo shoot was going to go. While you may’ve been inebriated that didn’t mean you were on board with every decision the two were making, but you also loved them too much to tell them no, and as you watched them excitedly try to figure out what pose to go with you figured you could feed into their inherent goofiness just this once in the spirit of Christmas.

Carmy stood in the kitchen of his childhood home watching as his mom prepared for Christmas dinner the following day, vehemently refusing any help when he offered it up but forcing him to keep her company and recount all of his culinary adventures as she worked.

He watched his mom move around the kitchen in an organized frenzy, talking to herself at points when she listed off what needed to be done next. Carmy could already see the weight of the looming festivities hanging heavy over her head, stressing her out before the day even began. While he understood and appreciated her love for food and cooking probably more than anyone considering she fostered that same love and appreciation within him when it came to the culinary arts, he always wondered why she insisted on cooking family dinner every year if it always ended in a mess.

“Oh fuck me!” The loud expletive forced Carmy from the recesses of his mind as he stared in his mother’s direction. “Carm honey, do me a favor and finish decorating the fireplace, the box of decorations is already out there.”

Carmy stood there a minute longer trying to compute the fact that his culinary excellence was being disregarded and he was being put on decorating duty, “Carmen. Can you do it or do I have to do every fucking thing myself?”

“No, uh yeah I got it.” He met his mother’s eyes nodding his head up and down in acquiesce, to let her know he had it under control.

She shooed him out of the kitchen returning to her food prep before he even made to move to the living room. Carmy quickly found the box of decorations exactly where his mom said it would be, the house was abnormally quiet he assumed Mikey was at The Beef but he couldn’t be sure he had no need to be near the sandwich shop at the moment and Sug moved out ages ago so here he was stuck in his childhood home with nothing better to do than decorate the fireplace mantle.

Carmy knew however he decorated the mantle his mom would just come behind him and fix it to her liking, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. Maybe if he got it close enough to how she liked she would have to do less fixing. He was surprised to find how calming decorating the mantle was, but maybe that was only because he didn’t care to impress anyone with his subpar decorating skills.

Reaching into the box Carmy pulled out the stockings each one designated to one of the Berzatto siblings. He easily hung the stockings onto the hooks on the mantle before reaching in for the last one, embroidered with a name he was sure he hadn’t seen in far too long a time. Carmy was foolish to think that because he ruined the friendship between the two of you that his family would disregard your whole existence over his mistakes.

Carmy remembered how hard he tried for the first couple of months after he’d left to get into contact with you, to try and let you know just how sorry he was and how much he missed your friendship…missed you. If you ever gave him the chance, he was sure he’d spend his whole life apologizing for that moment.

That night would haunt him forever, and his mind made sure of it, the worst moment of his life was on a constant loop anytime he got a moment of calm and quiet. Which wasn’t often but they happened enough for the hurt and pain on your face from that night to be permanently seared into his mind. And when it wasn’t memories of the way the moonlight illuminated the tears running down your face from that night, it was the overwhelming guilt that weighed on him for ever speaking to you that way.

Carmy’s hand traced across the embroidered thread of your name as though passing over it enough times would permanently thread the letters into his skin. He hesitated, unsure if they still hung the stocking long after you moved, a moment passed before he decided he would hang it if only just to catch a glimpse of something that reminded him of you. Carmy maneuvered the other stockings around in order to make space for yours trying to ignore the warmth that filled his chest at the sight of your name hanging directly next to his.

He was pulled from his daze as his phone vibrated multiple times in rapid succession, he pulled the device out of his back pocket unsurprised to find Nat blowing up the sibling's group chat, plus Richie courtesy of Mikey. He was ready to shove the phone back in his pocket when a message coming through from Richie caught his eye, his heart sped up a bit as he read it before it disappeared off of his screen.

Carmy was positive he had never opened the sibling's group chat as fast as he did at that moment. Opening the text chain he frowned at the assortment of pictures above Richie’s message doing his best to figure out what the hell he was looking at. The first few pictures were of Pete and Nat and as much as he loved his sister he wasn’t interested in seeing either of them. His thumb began swiping through the photos rapidly unsure why anyone would take so many photos of the same things over and over again. Carmy found himself stopping on one picture in particular, a picture that was neither Sug nor Pete, but presumably, the person who took the previous pictures of the couple.

There you were.

Smiling so wide it almost looked painful, a glow to your skin that made Carmy unsure if it was from the phone camera or if you were actually glowing. The picture was blurry but for the most part, he could make out your features, he would recognize you anywhere even after all the time spent apart he would be able to pick you out of a crowd with no trouble at all. That’s how deeply you were ingrained into his brain even if the last time he saw you was when you were a fresh high school graduate.

He scrolled once more the side of his lips ticking up at the same photo this time just a lot clearer, he absentmindedly saved the photo to his phone before resuming his viewing. Carmy’s eyes were always drawn to you when you were in any of the photos, at some point he began disregarding Sug and Pete entirely, giving you his full attention. He couldn’t help the quiet chuckle as he scrolled through all the shenanigans the three of you got up to saving another individual shot of you in front of the Christmas tree in Christmas-themed pajamas with matching socks and a headband with two candy canes in the shape of a heart. The sight of you smiling directly at the camera made it seem as though you were looking directly at him, a blush rose to Carmy’s cheeks at how pathetic it was for him to get so worked up over a few photos of you. He looked at the last photo a moment longer before realization dawned on him, his eyes quickly shot from his phone screen to the stocking he hung up.

Carmy scrolled through the recently sent messages he missed after staring at the pictures of you so long gathering enough information to confirm his suspicions. He quickly turned on his heel before heading back into the kitchen.

“Yo ma,” she gave a distracted hum which was enough for him to begin his line of questioning. “Is uh…does Baby still come to family Christmas?”

The older woman stopped what she was doing turning to face her youngest son with the most egregious ‘are you fucking stupid’ look Carmy received in a while. “Do I bust my ass every year preparing seven fishes that nobody ever fucking appreciates or eats?”

Carmy was unsure if it was a trick question but as his mom raised her eyebrows awaiting an answer he realized there in fact was a right answer, “Yes?”

She shook her head looking him up and down as if he were a stranger “I don’t know what’s gotten into you Carmen, it’s like you're from a whole different fucking planet. Of course, the girl comes to Christmas, we're the only family she’s got left.” She stopped speaking to pull out the pack of cigarettes she kept on her slipping one between her lips before speaking around it. “And you would fuckin’ know that if you came home once in a while Bear.”

Carmy nodded his head ignoring the last sentence as he let the information settle in, he would be seeing you face to face for the first time since high school, and the two of you would be in the same for hourse. He took his chance to slip out of the kitchen as his mother turned back to finish her prepping. He needed some time to himself to try not to work himself into a frenzy as he thought about what tomorrow would bring.

The Berzatto family home looked exactly as you left it all those years ago, the only noticeable difference was the Christmas decorations but other than that it was still your bonus home, the home you spent as much if not more time in than your own home.

The home you grew up in sat just right across the street, a family of three began renting it a year after you left for college and although it was weird to think that another family was living in the home that would always hold a piece of you, you were just happy to rent it out to a loving family. You’d try to find the time and bring them a goodie basket or something, you always sent holiday cards, but now that you were in town you could meet them properly.

You stood at the trunk of your rental car staring at the array of wrapped presents trying to decide if you should bring them all in now or just wait. Your eyes fell on the matte black sleek box, the last-minute gift cost more than it would’ve if you bought it ahead of time, you bit your lip the longer you stared at it only now feeling uncertain about the unwarranted gift.

“You sure you’re up for this?” The voice came from your side, Hayden leaned against the car as he watched you stare at the box as though it personally wronged you.

A small sigh escaped you as you turned to face him, arms crossing over your chest “Not really, no but I come home every Christmas and I can’t stop just because he happens to be in town.” Hayden looked at you like he knew you were lying but decided against mentioning it. “Thanks for coming with me by the way, I know it was last minute…how you holding up?”

Hayden shrugged before looking straight ahead, “Well my best friend has been sleeping with my wife for the better part of a year, and said wife served me divorce papers two days before Christmas so.” His voice trailed off as he gave you a sarcastic smile. “But I would say you’re having a worse day than me so it makes me feel a bit better.”

You frowned, not entirely understanding what he was getting at, causing him to roll his eyes, “Oh c’mon Baby, the kid you’ve been in love with our whole lives is home for Christmas, the two of you never even dated mind you. He broke your heart years ago and for some reason, you’re still in love with the idiot but won’t pick up the phone to tell him, and all of your relationships have failed because you’re too stuck living in the past.”

“I should’ve left your ass at home wallowing in self-pity.”

Hayden’s lips pulled into a sardonic smile as he tipped his head to you. “Well now we can wallow in self-pity together, you can stay out here in the cold looking at that stupid box, but I’ll be in that warm house drinking all of Miss Berzatto’s good liquor.”

The front door opening drew both of your attention, your heads swiveled to watch Mikey exit the house and begin making his way to you, a frown lined his face as his eyes landed on Hayden by your side confused at the extra guest you brought with you.

“Why the fuck are the two of you standing out here in the cold.” Mikey’s gruff voice felt like a balm for the doubt that was beginning to eat away at you from Hayden’s unwelcome reality check.

Hayden moved quicker than you anticipated, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. “Oh you know just reminding our girl here that love sucks and it's all a fucking illusion because no matter how much you love someone they’ll always end up fucking your pseudo brother.”

Mikey’s confusion was evident as his eyebrows pinched together even more, his eyes darted between the two of you mouth opening to speak only to quickly close as you shook your head back and forth as subtly as possible.

“Hey, is your mom drinking yet?” Hayden’s question earned a hesitant nod from Mikey who was unsure if providing her a drinking partner was the best thing to do. “Great…great, well merry fucking Christmas!” Hayden pressed a gentle kiss into your temple before moving to head into the house, clapping Mikey on the shoulder as he went by.

Mikey moved to stand next to you, the both of you watching the train wreck of a man head into the Berzatto household. “What the fuck is up with that kid?” Mikey turned to look at you trying to figure out exactly what kind of mess you brought to family Christmas.

“Sasha’s leaving him.” You watched as understanding washed over Mikey’s face a small nod following as he put two and two together at Hayden’s weirder-than-usual behavior. Mikey opened his mouth to give you shit about bringing the insufferable kid with you only stopping as you spoke over him. “He’s good people, Mikey, I just didn’t want him alone on Christmas.”

Mikey didn’t have an argument for that. As irritating as Hayden could be he found himself indifferent towards the kid you called friend. Mikey was loathed to admit it and he would deny it if anyone ever asked him, but he had a secret appreciation for the kid, Hayden was there for you during a tough time in your life, he was there for you when you needed a friend or someone in your corner who wasn’t directly connected to the youngest Berzatto and for that, Mikey respected the kid, but it's not like he’d ever tell you or him that.

“Let me look at you,” Mikey’s voice broke through the quiet that had settled over the two of you, your eyes flashed to his face taking in the facial hair he'd decided to grow out. “All fucking grown up ain’t you. Can we still call you Baby or you too grown for that shit now?”

You rolled your eyes at the joke Mikey made every time you came home before turning and grabbing your bag from where you sat it in the trunk, leaving the gifts behind and moving to walk towards the house with Mikey, “As much as I regret the nickname I’m not sure if I could get used to hearing you all call me by my first name again.”

Mikey chuckled at your words, hand moving out to grab your elbow and stop you from continuing ahead. “Relax out here with me for a bit yeah?”

A frown lined your face as Mikey stopped in front of you, you could tell he had ulterior motives for stopping you, his hand moving to take the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket before lifting it to his mouth and lighting it.

“You uh, you know your little boyfriends in that house right?”

Your nose scrunched up at Mikey’s words, you could hear the teasing tone in his voice as he spoke but that didn’t mean his words didn’t make your chest ache. Of course, you knew he was here, but not until a week after you booked your flight and Nat gave you some bullshit excuse about how she just didn’t know he was coming home for Christmas. You were upset with her and rightfully so but Pete somehow still talked you into coming and so here you were pretending like seeing Carmy after so long didn’t matter, pretending like you hadn’t teared up on the drive over with your face turned to the window as Hayden drove, quietly reliving every vile word Carmy spewed at you that night in your head. Pretending as though you didn’t carry his words along with the hurt they caused within you for years like they didn’t change the way you viewed yourself and took up space in other people’s lives, maybe Hayden’s observation about you carrying the past around was more factual than you once thought.

And it didn’t matter that he tried getting back in contact with you his first year in California or that he sent flowers and a card when your mom passed saying he’d come home if you needed him to. None of it mattered because it would never make up for the underlying truth in his cold, cruel words from all those years ago.

Mikey’s eyes darted around your face watching the small changes in your expression knowing you were thinking about the past, his cigarette halfway gone as he lost you to the inner workings of your mind. He took another puff before letting it fall from his fingertips and stomping it out, the tears lining your eyes forced him to move faster as he tucked you into his chest listening to you struggle to breathe as you fought to keep the sobs from wracking through your body.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. You can leave right now if you need to and no one has to know you were here.” His hand raised to stroke your head as he gently rocked the two of you back and forth. “Hayden will understand.”

You pressed your forehead into his chest as you willed yourself to calm down not wanting to make it obvious you’d been crying once the two of you made your way inside although it was probably already too late for that.

“Why does it still hurt Mikey?”

A deep sigh raised the older man's chest at your words, his hands fell to your biceps gently pulling you away from him. The look Mikey gave you said it all, a look that forced you to face a truth you’d been running from for the past five years. Creating a new life and pretending as though whatever misguided feelings you held towards Carmy were just that of a childhood crush.

It still hurt because you never stopped loving him.

You were thankful Mikey didn’t speak the words aloud unlike Hayden, you’d already been lectured by him countless times on this subject, Richie even jumped in from time to time to express his discontent. No one could understand why you held onto your feelings for Carmy so strongly knowing firsthand how much pain and anguish they caused you. You were scolded plenty of times about holding onto all that hurt, being told to either let it all go or talk to Carmy. You couldn’t bring yourself to do either of those things.

But you couldn’t keep living in your head and feeding into the fairytale of you and Carmy forever. You had to move on with your life at some point, and even though Hayden was correct that one moment from your past kept ruining your future, at this point, you were doing it to yourself. Although it was painful and it took some time, the broken record of Carmy’s words from that night five years ago made it just a bit easier.

“Baby,” Mikey paused on his words trying to find the right thing to say he felt torn every time this topic came up. You were a little sister to him, he viewed you in the same way he viewed Nat. He wanted the best for you, but this wasn’t it and the both of you knew it.

“Why are you doing this to yourself? I’m not saying you should forgive Carm m’ just sayin’ holdin’ on to all this hurt isn’t doing you any good.” He watched as you looked away from him, the realization clear on your face, Mikey could read you so well he knew you were tired of carrying the grief of that dead friendship around with you. His hands reached out to cup your face the rough pads of his thumb tenderly caressing your squished cheeks. “You’re finally in the same place after all this time, figure this shit out for both of your sakes.”

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips as you fought the urge to come up with some lame excuse as to why now wasn’t the right time, but there’d never be a right time for the two of you.

You wrapped your arms around Mikey’s waist once more needing the warm strong bear hugs he always provided to help calm yourself down enough to be prepared to face everyone, but also to signal you were done with this conversation entirely. You pulled out of Mikey’s grip as he gave you a look seemingly asking if you were okay, you nodded in answer, relaxing into him as he pressed a gentle kiss onto the skin of your forehead.

“Alright, let's get you inside before mom comes out here and cusses me out for keeping you in the cold.” Mikey’s hands rubbed up and down your arms to provide you with the much-needed body heat.

A genuine laugh left your lips knowing Mikey’s words were closer to the truth than one might think. Mikey moved to turn around and begin walking to the door but was forced to stop as you reached out to grab his hand. “I uh, I got you something.”

His eyebrows raised in question, “Awe you didn’t have to get me nothin’.” You rolled your eyes rummaging through your bag for the two presents and holding them out to him once you found them, chuckling as you watched him place his hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental moments and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else.

You smiled holding the heavier of the gifts out to him first, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded, feeling your face warm as you let your eyes dart around so you didn’t have to watch his reaction.

Mikey smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfed it from end to end. He smiled at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shoved his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands holding it in front of your chest, the glass facing him so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, I didn’t trademark it for myself or anything. I just remember how much you all used to talk about this, and I'm not sure if it's something you still want but I…I just wanted you to know I still believe in you. And I…I know how tough shit is lately and I promise I didn’t mean to step on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?”

You could hear your long-winded explanation become more emotional by the minute but you needed Mikey to know how loved and appreciated he was. He was a big brother to you, always by your side whenever you needed him, he saw you through all the bullshit with Carmy and helped you to get through your mom's death. And when you were hellbent on throwing whatever little future you didn’t think you had left away he was right there with you pushing you to see just how much you deserved to get out of this godforsaken city and make something of yourself.

“You deserve so much in this world Mikey, and I wish I could give it to you. But you need to know how much I believe in you and how much I love you, I’m always in your corner,” you paused trying to choke back another round of tears. “And Mikey I…I don’t think I would be here right now if it wasn’t for y-.”

Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, the both of you taking every bit of love and comfort the other offered in that moment. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. He wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey to have this moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while his emotions ran high. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face, his eyes found yours,

“Thank you, Baby,” the words were spoken so quietly you were surprised you caught onto them a small imperceptible nod of your head directed at him as you gave him a tearful smile. Mikey placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug.

You decided it best to leave the biography you finally wrote, printed, and compiled about him after all these years in his room, wanting him to be able to experience it in private so he could indulge in whatever feelings it brought forth.

Mikey’s head sat atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear listening to the rhythm of his beating heart. The hug you shared with Mikey in that moment felt heavier than any other time you had the pleasure of being held in his arms. You’d be remiss not to notice but chose instead not to bring it up to him and enjoy the moment for what it was.

A moment of peace.

30 minutes passed since Michael escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty, he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping their mom out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever grabbed Mikey’s attention.

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, but not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list off a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it.

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy offered to him marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the color drain from his face at the older man’s words, the younger of the two looking as nauseous as the pregnant woman upstairs. Although he knew you were in town he’d gotten so sucked into the chaotic energy of everything that his mind hadn’t given him any time to overthink seeing you all these years later and if he knew Mikey was outside with you he would’ve made sure he was nowhere in the vicinity of your entrance, not because he didn’t want to see you or be around you but because after all these years he still had no idea how to admit every feeling he kept bottled up and tucked away from you.

“Did you not know she was coming? Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those two idiots probably just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jagoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family and a surprise plus one. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who finally joined his side nodding his head to the window.

“Awe and she brought her little boyfriend with her.” Richie’s words bounced through Carmy’s head like a game of pinball. You were seeing somebody? Carmy unceremoniously shoved Richie out of the way to get a glimpse of his own out the window, the older man did his best to hold in his laughter.

Carmy looked out the window just in time to see you snuggly pressed into another man’s side, his brain working overtime to figure out who it was before he watched the man lean in and press a soft kiss into the side of your head causing Carmy’s stomach to sink.

“When did they start dating?” Before Carmy could stop himself the question was out in the open, his voice sounded less curious and more annoyed than it should have.

Richie knew what he was about to do next would probably get him into a load of shit but he couldn’t help but want to fuck with Carmy, would you beat his ass for it later, probably but that wasn’t gonna stop him from having his fun.

“Ohh shit, nobody told you, Cousin?” Richie did his best to sound sad as he spoke, fighting to keep his face neutral as Carmy turned to look at him. “Listen, I don't think it's my place to tell you.” Richie raised his free hand and the cup up in defense.

Carmy could feel his heart speed up the longer he looked at Richie, “Told me what?” An apologetic look washed over Richie’s face twisting the feeling of despair deeper into Carmy’s chest. “Told me fucking what Richie?” He did his best not to scream in the man’s face but the longer Richie stayed silent the more Carmy was sure he was going to have a breakdown.

“Carm…she’s,” Richie paused suddenly realizing that maybe this joke wasn’t as funny as he first thought it once was but he was in too deep now. “Baby’s married.”

The tightness in Carmy’s chest intensified tenfold as his eyes traced Richie’s face for any inkling that he was lying. He could feel his palms becoming clammy as he tried to comprehend the truth bomb Richie just dropped on him. When did you get married? Why didn’t he know?

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he already knew the answer to that last question. You didn’t want him to know, the two of you weren’t those same kids from five years ago. There was no more sharing everything that happened in your lives with one another and Carmy only had himself to thank for that.

“Don't fսck with me right now Richie.” Carmy was doing his best to hold onto whatever was left of his resolve not knowing if he could realistically spend his first Christmas home in years watching you be happy with some other man.

Before the older man could admit to his fallacy the door swung open, the man in question walking through the door.

“Yo, Richie how you been man? Tiff trynna kill you yet?” His voice drifted through the foyer as he shrugged out of his jacket while Carmy forced himself to turn around making eye contact with the man only receiving an indifferent look in return. “Carmen, good to see you home dude.”

It took Carmy a moment to realize he knew the man standing in front of him, Hayden Ivanovski was always more your friend than he was Carmy’s but the two of them got along decently enough for your sake. Carmy’s eyes flitted down to the hand stretched out in his direction, quickly latching onto the gold band wrapped around his ring finger, the truth of the situation settled heavily inside of him as he shook Hayden’s hand.

“Yeah uh, good to be back.” Carmy restrained himself from physically massaging out the ache in his chest as he stood in front of the man who succeeded where he couldn’t. He let Hayden’s hand go, tuning out the conversation between Richie and Hayden as he lost himself to the overwhelming thoughts swimming through his head moving to stand just outside of the kitchen as he leaned against the wall. There was no doubt about it, you were married, and those hateful words Carmy spewed at you in the backyard of his family home five years ago probably only helped to push you into Hayden’s embrace.

Carmy heard you before he saw you. He’d been so lost in his self-deprecating thoughts that he hadn’t heard the door open again.

All of these years, all the skipped holidays, and Carmy was missing out on you. The sight of you standing in his family home helped to calm his racing heart but then he watched as Hayden pulled you into his side, the two of you looking like a picture of love as the man leaned in placing one more kiss to your temple, conveniently staring Carmy down from across the foyer.

Carmy dropped his gaze from Hayden before focusing on you once more, the tension seemed to just bleed right out of him as he watched you glow in happiness even if caused by someone else. He was so caught up in his staring that he hadn’t realized the way Mikey glanced at him, eyebrows raised like he was waiting for Carmy to make a move he hadn’t prepared for and didn’t even know he could still make.

He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity worked its magic on you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school.

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered, he wasn’t drawn to you because of your appearance it was just you as a person that always kept his attention. The comfort you brought him, the way he used to feel safe just being in your presence, the softness you taught him it was okay to bask in, and the way you allowed him to be vulnerable and unapologetically himself were what really kept him hooked. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things, and he made sure to do so as he stared at you from his vantage point staring around Mikey’s body. Carmy was sure he could look at you all day and deep down inside, he knew he would spend most of Christmas doing just that now that a future with you wasn’t attainable.

He was pulled from his study of you as your voice rang through his ears, the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth warmed his body.

“Merry Christmas Carmy,” he could tell your smile was forced, but even the fact that he was worthy of your attention at this moment was enough for him. “It’s nice to see you home.”

Carmy tried not to read into your words knowing you were just being friendly but the way Mikey cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at his younger brother, he knew he needed to say something.

The moment was lost though as another voice interrupted the silence that fell over the group in the foyer.

“Baby, is that you? My goodness, you look fucking gorgeous and you brought Hayden!” Half of Donna’s body popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet the newcomers. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, while she held a ladle in her right hand and the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron was covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else she was in the kitchen making.

Carmy watched as you laughed half in amusement, you and Hayden both waved in his mother’s direction. Hayden gestured for you to walk in front of him as you both made your way to the kitchen. Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girl's bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. “C’mon Hayden, I need someone to drink and gossip with.”

The man wasted no time tossing his jacket atop the rest of the pile before maneuvering around Carmy and you. Richie and Mikey had dispersed at some point leaving the foyer empty aside from the two old friends. Carmy gestured for your tote, taking it out of your hand before awkwardly helping you to slip off your jacket doing his best not to touch you unnecessarily.

Carmy tried to match the small smile you gave him as you made to move around him but was sure he just looked miserable. He was surprised as you gripped his bicep before walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” He watched as you genuinely smiled at him for the first time in years, unsure if the rhythm his heart was beating in was healthy or not.

A concerned look washed over your face at Carmy’s silence forcing the man to hesitantly nod his head surprised you would’ve gotten him anything after all this time. He opened his mouth to speak but settled against doing so, sure he would make a fool of himself, instead giving you a small shy smile in return. Carmy watched you a moment longer, your own mouth opening and closing like his once had before you settled on a simple nod and dropped your hand back to your side, before walking into the kitchen.

Whatever little hope that interaction had given Carmy was dashed as soon as he heard Hayden’s voice call out to you. You were happy and that’s all he ever wanted, Carmy knew he should’ve been happy for you, but he couldn’t bring himself to come to terms with the fact that all of this could’ve been avoided if he had just been honest with you five years ago.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have to watch as another man brought forth the happiness that once used to be reserved for him.

a/n: well, well, well what do we have here? gonna be honest idk how the bear fandom is doing so this series rewrite may not get as much love as the original, but that doesn't bother me as much as it used to.

some quick housekeeping as we begin this journey once more; ya girl is working full time so updates will be sporadic, genuinely have no upload schedule so please if you read this rewrite be gracious and understand i have a real life outside of fic writing. other than that please enjoy like/comment/reblog it means a lot.

i've missed you all so much please fangirl with me over these two once more! 🫶🏼🤍

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fic #the bear x you #the bear x reader #carmy the bear x reader #aiekoy rewrite

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ninguitar · 2 months ago

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KISS ME THRU THE PHONE, 𓈒𓈒 aeri as ur gf with a twist.

pairing. aeri uchinaga x f!r genre. fluff wc. 600 idk notes. saw pinkselle and KNEW i had to make a quick dravble on her. also a quick little gift for my baefy @sed7ction >< MASTERLIST.

now playing ⋆ sunsetz by cigarettes after sex

WHAT STARTED AS A SIMPLE FRIENDSHIP, where you and aeri uchinaga, a former classmate, rekindle with one-another, eventually turned into more-than-friends relationship.

as the clock struck 4 in the morning for you, and 3 in the afternoon for giselle on a breezy, autumn night, you lifted your phone, immediately dialing giselle's number—just once more to hear the girl's voice.

after all, you missed the japanese girl.

you're met with a dark, black screen on your phone, aeri's voice ringing through your ears. "hello?" the girl barely audible.

you whisper against the phone, "gi? you there," afraid to wake up your roommate, who'd more than likely ramble on and on about needing her "beauty sleep," which often fell deaf on your ears.

"yeah, yeah, 'course i am," giselle drawls, and it was almost as though you could hear her ear-to-ear grin that stretched her lips.

"good, good," you mumble slowly, to which giselle almost chuckles, raising her volume button, "missed me, didn't you?"

ever since giselle went on her world tour with her members, you both had to cram in time to call each other, which in hindsight, was excruciatingly difficult.

"maybe i just wanted to see your new pink hair, that you never told me 'bout," you poked fun at her, your laugh barely above a whisper, but nonetheless, aeri couldn't help the way her heartstrings tug at your melodic laugh.

"whatever you say," the japanese girl simply chuckles, her eyes darting around your features—even when you were disheveled, in the dim room with only your phone illuminating your face, giselle couldn't feel more content seeing you, that it almost made her lightheaded, even.

"you should've let me inside your luggage, just like i suggested when you told me about going on tour," you giggle, heat curling on your cheeks.

aeri didn't think that, without a person in her life, she would be absolutely crushed; at every slipping moment while on tour, all she could think about was your presence—your warm, inviting presence that had her moonstruck.

"go to sleep, you big fool; you always say such corny things (that i love) when you're all tired," giselle quips, rubbing her temples dramatically, as your corny comments only make her flushed. god, she was helplessly in love with you.

you huff, protesting like a kid trying to avoid their bedtime, "wanna hear your voice, c'mon," making giselle scoff.

oh, how you just missed giselle's unwavering touch—her arms snaked around your waist, fitting perfectly and snug, her velvety, soft lips pressed against your temples to calm you down, and the way she just buried her head against the crook of your neck, inhaling the perfume she bought you.

and oh, have you missed the way giselle spoiled you rotten, no matter how much you protested that she was frugal in spending her money on you. though, of course, she'd buy her pretty girl the entire shop—with a beck and call, she'll hurriedly rush to your side, immediately buying it.

not to mention, the way her hands rested on her guitar, before strumming to a familiar beat, her angelic, melodic voice seeping through. the way she just secretly opens your playlists—which often consisted of aespa's songs—memorizing each and every song down to its notes to ensure its perfect, just to serenade you.

"how about i stay on call 'till you sleep, yeah?" giselle proposes, which makes you automatically nod, eager.

you throw yourself back onto your bed, your head buried against your pillows, before blissfully succumbing to slumber, your grip on your phone loosening, and turning the camera to your ceiling.

god were you cute, "goodnight, y/n, sweet dreams."

i wanna hear your voice

a love that nobody could destroy

#fics 　.#kpop imagines #kpop x reader #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #aespa giselle #aespa giselle x reader #giselle uchinaga #aeri uchinaga #giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader

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jenosjarofjam · 6 months ago

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Now, you're stuck with me forever

Alpha jeno x Omega fem!reader

-Rivals/enemies to lovers

Requested ✔️ @no-romance-for-me-please

Word count: 2k+word.

Warning: smut,abo stuff, a lot I mean a lot of slick, squirting, knotting, cussing, biting/marking, mention of scent, nicknames(princess, good girl, etc...)

An note! This is like my first one shot and abo so hopefully this is not too bad🤞.(I took some prompts idea from Tumblr.)I didn't really dive deep into the rival/enemies part.

Playlist: collide-Justine Skye, Best lover-BiBi

You took the same class with Jeno, both of you were the top 10 students in the whole uni. You vividly remember the first year you met Jeno, Jeno always sat next to you, taunting you when he got higher grades. On the other hand, you studied extra hard because of it, surprisingly Jeno still got a higher grade than you. This went on for months, until the professor decided to pair both of you up for a huge project, now you have no choice but work with him. You guys started texting each other, deadline of the project was approaching, you agreed on letting Jeno into your place to help on the project, another led to another, now he crashes into your place whenever he wants

9:34 a.m

Jeno: Can I come over I’m bored……

Y/n : Since when did you started asking?

Jeno:I’m just trying to be nice rn, I’ll bring you food.

Y/n:awwwwwwwwww are you showing affection to me rn?

Jeno: I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and choke you until the life in your eyes die down.

Y/n: kinky ;)

Jeno: stfu, u freak

Jeno was sitting on the couch, finalising the project while you ate your food. The presence of him was distracting you , you seem to be confused about the reason… but hey no one’s complaining when there’s free food.

You noticed the sun peeking through the curtains, sun ray hitting Jeno’s face, highlighting his features. He’s skin glowed under the sun, his eyes shimmered hazel, his nose- “Hey! Are you even listening to me?Hello? Earth to Y/n?” A voice abrupted your thoughts, you realised you have been unconsciously starring at him, your face blushed in embarrassment about being caught. “Were you starring at me?” He cocked his eyebrow in disbelief, “no- no way why would I be starring at you! You’re.. ugly.” Well that was a lie….. “You’re avoiding eye contac with me? Why’s that?” He grins in enjoyment watching you suffer. “No. NO why would I do that.” “Maybe because you’re into me?” He said poking fun at you. “ wha-what no no no…” “well, you’re looking at me like you want to murder me but also like…you want me.” He smirked, seeing your widened eyes. "*cough* umm I'm gonna go uhh get some water." You said, as you quickly walked to the kitchen. You let out a sigh, feeling like you lost your breathe just the moment before. You felt... feverish, oddly... horny.

You went back talking with Jeno, it still doesn't help the fact that you're thinking about getting pounded by a particular person. The uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs was borderline painful, you tried to ease the pain by crossing your legs...it didn't work. You spaced out looking into Jeno's eyes. "Hey... You should take a rest, you seem tired today," "Yeah..um yeah sorry I'll uh go to my room and get some rest, call me when you need anything." You responded, feeling the awkward tension in the room rise up. Little did you know, your scent was flaring up like crazy, the mix of raspberry jam and cherry blossom was putting off Jeno, the sweet smell of slick was oozing out of your panties, making it awfully hard for Jeno to keep his instincts and not to fuck you senselessly. You scurried off to your room, feeling overwhelmed to the brim. You started researching about random heats, trying to find the reason the sudden neediness. You came across an article about spontaneous heats.

Spontaneous heats-Though rare, there is a phenomenon called Spontaneous Heat, which is when an Omega goes into heat outside of their cycle. The rare cases where it happens include meeting one's perfect match (at which point both heat and rut begin almost immediately)

No way Lee Jeno was destined to be your mate, but you can’t deny he is dreadfully hot, but you definitely didn’t stand a chance to be with him.

All these mix signals are just throwing you over the edge.In spite of that, all you should be worrying right now is about the fact that you’re craving the feeling of Jeno’s dick sliding in and out of you.

You had to find a way to relief the pain, ignoring the fact Jeno is probably outside your room playing video games, you slipped your hand under your panties, stimulating your clit. You bite down on your pillow, trying to muffle your moans.

Jeno was standing outside your room, the scent of a sweet aroma slipping through the door crack is driving him insane. The sound of muffled moans , made it obvious you were touching yourself. The thought of marking you, letting everyone know you’re his. The desire to breed you, filling up your pussy with his cum. How pretty you’ll look when he fucks you until you’re senseless . He feels his body burning, blood rushing to his cock, he couldn’t get you off his mind the entire day, he was just craving to fuck you all day long . Jeno couldn’t hold it anymore, he knew damn way he wanted you, all the pretending was driving him mad.

As you were approaching your high, you closed your eyes and focused on the climax. Yougot so lost in the pleasure, you didn’t even notice that someone was standing in front of your doorway.

"Always so needy for me, having fun without me huh?" You quickly cover yourself, your face burned up in embarrassment, you stared at Jeno and his very prominent erection, the size of his bulge was huge , the sheer thought of it already makes you mouth water, you wondered how it’ll feel in your hand,or even in your tight pussy. “What you looking at?” Jeno interrupts your line of thoughts, but it doesn’t make it better. He's low raspy voice sends chills down your spine. He slowly walks to your bed, kneeling down and staring into your doe-eyes, you quickly turned your head away from his stare, he quickly leans closer, closer to the point you feel his breathe against yours " I asked you y/n, what are you looking at?”. Jeno realises how stupid this is, and pulls away, before you pull him by the collar, his lips crashes into yours, the hunger you both crave for each other is finally getting satisfied, his hands naturally went around your waist as he pulls you closer, goosebumps swarming every part of your body. He pulls away "do you want me to stop?” he asked, trying to reassure you wanted this. You hurriedly answered, longing for more “just the opposite, please” He pushes you on to the bed, now you’re under him.

“Submit yourself,” he demanded, “jeno-” “What did you call me?” he abruptly shouted, making you jolt from the unexpected behaviour. “I’m sorry, al-alpha.” he slowly pulled down your flimsy shorts along with your pink panties, the cold hands made you squirm away from his touch. He quickly put his hands on your hips and pull you in, “Let me take care of you, let me make you feel good, let me make you mine,” he whispers into your ears before he forcefully lifts your head up, now you’re staring at him. He’s eyes filled with lust, the dark orbs felt like they were burning holes in yours. He takes off his shirt, his toned abs, arms bulging with veins, looks just like a wet dream in sight. He spreads your legs further apart, slotting his head between your legs. He started licking your hole, not letting a single drop of slick going to waste, before adding two fingers into your leaking hole, slick dripping to his chin, his nose bumping onto your clit adding the extra sensation, making you moan like crazy. “Fuck, you taste so sweet, taste like mine,”he mumbled, the sound of slurping echoes in your ear, your hand naturally find its way down to his head, you grip firmly on his hair, tugging it slightly letting him know your getting close to your climax. The high he brought you was like shockswaves crashing into you, you arch your back gripping harder onto his hair, you let a breathy gasp as you came all over his face.

“I’m not done with you, yet." His eyes darkened as you reached your hands towards him, freeing his cock out of his confinement, it spring out hitting his abdomen. It was huge, far from the ones you've taken before. He slowly lift your legs up, pushing the tip in you, the stretch was painfully good, you unconsciously clenched around him making him groan, your slick coating his dick making it easier for him to fit. He gave you time to adjust to his length then he slowly thrusted into you. “Fuck- take it like a good omega that you are.” The new feeling of adrenaline came rushing in, your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that made you see stars. He lets out a low breathy grunt , your creamy velvety walls sucking him in deeper, the tight fit making you feel every inch of him, every single veins dragging in and out of your pussy. He started thrusting in a merciless rhythm, he grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, his tongue swirled against yours, the passionate kiss turned into a messy make-out session. His warm lips taking over you, pussy gushing over his dick. "Alpha, I'm close-" you choked out "please, fill me up please.", you feel like time slowed, each thrust felt so sensitive, so good, you feel your vision blurring, the knot in your stomach snapped, you let a long lewd moan as you cum on Jeno's dick. Jeno kept thrusting, ignoring your whines. "Hmm, too much?? Too much for my omega? You were begging for it, you were begging me to fill you up right?? Good girl's keep their promises baby." The sensitivity was too much, you feel your eyes tearing up, you kept clenching on his girth, forming a creamy white ring around the base of his cock.

Jeno used his strength and flip you around, his big hands holding onto your hips, “ass up princess.” You obeyed, feeling a sharp slap on your butt, he swify pushes back in with a one quick thrust. "Plea-se knot- in me al-pha, please, wanna be full of your pups." You pleaded, the thought of being by each other's side everyday, carrying his child, was the best fucking dream ever. "Fuck- You want me to knock you up- huh? Such a slut, such a slut for me. Fuck I'm cumming." He grunted. Jeno grabbed your hair pulling it aside, exposing your bare neck and collarbones, Jeno put his nose on your neck, inhaling your sweet aroma. "Can I mark you- princess, wanna make you mine-" He asked, waiting to get a permission to forever mark you his. "Mark me please, alpha mark me!" Jeno licked the side of your neck, and bit down on it, he licked the blood that was oozing out of the mark. You screamed in pain, but the idea of being his was enough for you to bare the pain. Jeno kept thrusting in you, you feel like your were about to pass out, a new feeling rushed in, not like your typical orgasm. Your now breathy moans echoed the room along with the slapping sound of the skin, you screamed in pleasure as you squirted all over his abs. "S-shit , that was so hot, I'm so close princess." He growled, liquid dripping down your thighs. His thrusts became more sloppy, the raspy low grunts was starting to become smoky moans. You feel his dick twitched in you. He held you closer, gripping onto you harder. With a final push, his knot inflamed, hot white cum covering your walls, you whimpered from the knot's pain. The feeling was way too addictive that you can barely feel the pain now. Jeno lays on you for a few seconds, you can feel his warm breathe against your neck. It took a few seconds for him to recover from his orgasm, he finally broke the silence

"How are you feeling?" He asked genuinely, "Tired and confused...I thought you never liked me..." "Idiot, why would I not like you." "No shit Sherlock, you acted like you hated my guts." You argued

"Well now you're stuck with me forever."

#jeno smut #jeno x reader #nct hard thoughts #lee jeno #jenosjarofjamfics #nct dream smut #nct smut #lee jeno smut #jeno simps

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sl0t4matt · 7 months ago

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m. guiu bf! head canons (requested)

❀ he‘s crazy about you.

❀ his friends like to tease him about how obsessed he is with you but he doesn’t care. how could he not? in his eyes you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. outside and inside.

❀ he doesn’t want to spend his time with anyone that isn’t you.

❀ “marc! we’re gonna go out to eat with the team. you know, to celebrate tonight’s win.”

❀ “i’m okay, my girl is waiting for me.” he would say.

❀ you on the other hand like to also go out with your friends, since you never want to be that person, that does nothing with her friends anymore just because she’s dating someone.

❀ marc understands and waits in your bed for you, or calls hector out, since he’s always pissed marc completely neglects him when you’re around him.

❀ he just can’t help it. he’s head over heels for you. you got him charmed.

❀ you always send thirsty edits of him to him on tiktok.

❀ “fuck i look good.” he would say.

❀ but oh, can he be a part of the sassy man apocalypse. hitting you with comebacks you wouldn’t have even thought about. not even just that he would hit you with smart ass remarks. he was good with them. leaving you speechless sometimes.

❀ one thing about marc is he will spoil you. no matter how many times you tell him not to. that you do not need that prada bag on your pinterest board. it seems to be going in one ear and out of the other because he has almost bought you your whole pinterest wishlist.

❀ one of his most expensive gifts would be the catier bracelet that has his name engraved on it. you wear it every day to show everyone off but also feel close to him no matter where he is.

❀ you were so mad at him for buying it at first because of the price and how you don’t need all of that. that he’s enough. but he says he “wanted to” and shushes you.

❀ you’re his passenger princess.

❀ you have all of your lip products in his car. it almost looks like it’s your car.

❀ he always lets you put on your playlist since you think his music taste is shit.

❀ you influenced him though, because now he knows almost every song of your favourite artists and also listens to them while practice.

❀ he gets you your favourite flowers on every date you guys have. you could say it’s his love language to surprise you with flowers. even if the both of you just lay in your bed and watch a movie.

❀ when he’s coming to your house, he not only brings you flowers but also your mom and sweets for your siblings.

❀ another one of his love languages is physical touch. from only holding your waist in room full of people to kissing up your thighs as he goes down on you.

❀ he loves giving you head and tasting you. you think it gives him some sort of ego boost to please you.

❀ he also thinks it’s so hot when you wear his barca jersey while riding him. when you tried it for the first time it was just for fun wanting to try something new. you moaned “visca barca” in his ear, meaning for it to be funny. but he took it seriously and came three seconds after you said it. (😭)

❀ “please ma keep it on!” he would groan.

❀ can be such a whiny bitch sometimes when it comes to waiting to fuck you.

❀ it doesn’t help he would get hard at the most random moments.

❀ you lean into marc, your hand steading yourself on his leg to kiss him. your soft lips meet his for a few seconds then pull on his bottom lip teasingly.

❀ “let’s go in!” you pat his leg, leaning back in the seat as you wait for marc to open the door for you like he always does.

❀ “i-. uhm. can’t.” he coughs. you laugh loudly. “marc!! again?” you shake your head. “you’re pathetic!” you tease him laughing.

❀ you look down at the tent growing in his pants. “you’re not helping!” he groans his head falling back.

❀ “you want me to help you?” you poke his chest, winking. he sighs looking out. people won’t see us due to his black windows anyways.

❀ “fuck yeah. please do.”

❀ like said he loves you wearing his jersey that also speaks for the matches. it gives him strength to win, so you make sure that the barca jersey you’re wearing has the number 38 printed on it.

❀ you’re an emotional mess on his games. one time you’re celebrating that your boyfriends team scored, the other you’re cursing the refs and opponents.

❀ no one wants to face you when marc is scoring a goal. you’re going full crazy. yelling and chanting his name like an embarrassing mom. clapping and jumping like you’re completely mental.

❀ he points up to the bleachers to you, taking every opportunity on dedicating the goal to you. he would blow a kiss and you’d do the same after calming yourself down.

❀ you have a ritual for after the game. when the both of you come back from the game, you would give him a little reward for scoring ;)

❀ though it’s not really a valid one because when he loses, you try releasing his anger with doing the same thing.

❀ he would drag your hair while you give him head due to his anger.

❀ after completely ruining you he would apologise like the soft boyfriend he is.

❀ “sorry if i was too rough, baby.” he would say looking down on you.

❀ “it’s okay.” you would smile, eyes still glossy.

❀ after, you would lay your head on his chest and force him to stroke your arm until you fall asleep.

#marc guiu #Spotify #barca #fc barcelona #joao felix #lamine yamal #pablo gavi #hector fort #fermin lopez #guiu #la masia

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alxtiny · 3 months ago

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Ad Astra per Aspera

Episode 1

Pairing: Pirate!Ateez x Navigator!reader

Genre: pirate!au, fluff, angst, maybe smut

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: blood, blunt trauma to the head, starvation, improper jokes, hate able characters

Notes: lets see if y’all can guess who is who >.<

Playlist : asleep by the smiths | the great gig in the sky by pink floyd | under the water by aurora

Series Masterlist | Episode 2 | Prologue

"Move it, slave!” a gruff voice barked behind you, “I ain't got time for yer dainty little walk," you felt the crude shove of a sword poke into your back, the dirty steel pressing through the thin fabric of your shirt like an icicle. You stumbled forward, almost tripping over the uneven planks of the dock.

"Stop poking me!" You exclaimed, spinning around to glare at your tormentor. The chains binding your arms come up to shield your body. Your eyes were bright with fury. "I told you already, I am not a slave. I am a navigator, and I am getting on your infernal ship of my own volition. Take me to your captain; I have a deal to—"

"Quit runnin' yer mouth, lass, or I'll run you through with my sword," the crewman growled, clumsily swishing his blade around, making his inexperience known. His breath reeked of stale ale and rotting teeth, a look of disgust plastered itself across your face. His sword came to rest under your chin, pushing your face up. Exasperated, you raised your hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright," you muttered, rolling your eyes. With a resigned sigh, you dragged yourself up the gangplank, your boots clattering against the rough wood. The unimpressive ship seemed to loom above you menacingly, its sails furled and its deck swarming with activity.

The ship’s deck was a cesspool of filth and debauchery. Men lounged about in various states of drunkenness, their eyes glazed and their movements sluggish. The stench of unwashed bodies and rancid skin mingled with the salty spray of the sea, creating a miasma that made you gag. You could feel a dozen pairs of eyes on yourself, leering and appraising, as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

Around you, other women were being herded aboard, their faces pale and eyes wide with fear. Some were weeping, clutching at their tattered dresses, while others stared blankly ahead, in acceptance of their fate. Your stomach churned with a mix of disgust and anger. It was a slave trader’s ship. You had been foolish, utterly foolish, to let yourself be tricked into coming here.

It had all started at the pub, a dimly lit hole-in-the-wall frequented by sailors and all that. You had been celebrating a successful voyage, your pockets heavy with the gold you had earned as a navigator. A group of men had approached you, claiming they so desperately needed your skills to guide their ship through such treacherous waters. It stoked your ego of course, you couldn’t resist.

But it had all been a lie. They had swindled you, drugged your unguarded drink, and taken you prisoner. You had awoken, bound and gagged, surrounded by the same men who now leered at you from the ship’s deck. The gold was all gone, except a few coins you had kept hidden in your boots. You clenched your fists, cursing your own naivety.

The crewman prodded at your back again, forcing you to keep moving. You glaring back at him, he laughed as if this was all just a fun game. He was a squat, greasy man with a pockmarked face, a half shaven beard and a cruel glint in his eye. His clothes were dirty and ill-fitting, and sweat dripped down the sides of his face.

"Where’s the captain?" You demanded, your voice trembling with barely contained rage. "I want to speak to him now."

The crewman snorted, a sound that was more pig than human. "You don't make demands here, lass. You do as you're told, or you'll end up in the bilge with the rats." He grabbed your arm, his fingers digging into your flesh, and dragged you towards the stern of the ship.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you were marched through the ship's dingy corridors, the air thick with the smell of salt and rotting wood. The two burly crewmen escorting you, stopped before a large, ornately carved door. One of them knocked twice, and a muffled voice from within barked for them to enter.

You were pushed into the room, stumbling over the threshold. The interior was a stark contrast to the squalor of the rest of the ship. Rich tapestries lined the walls, and the floor was covered with a plush, but stained, rug. At the far end of the room, behind a desk cluttered with a pile of maps and papers, and an even higher pile of dirty cutlery, sat the captain.

He was an unimposing figure in terms of height but made up for it in girth. His ample belly strained against the buttons of a once-white shirt now stained with the remnants of countless meals. Various condiments had left their mark, creating a painting of greasy splotches. His bald head glistened under the lamplight, a poorly matched toupee perched precariously atop his head. A smattering of fake gold jewellery adorned his fingers and neck, clinking as he moved.

The ‘captain’ looked up from his desk, a lecherous grin spreading across his bloated face. His small, beady eyes raked over you, lingering with a predatory gleam. "Well, well, what have we here?" he slurred, his voice thick with the effects of cheap alcohol.

You could barely suppress a shudder of disgust. The smell of rot and smoke wafted towards you as he rose from his chair, his movements slow and ungainly. He waddled closer, his breath heavy with the scent of decay. You took an involuntary step back, your skin crawling as he reached out to cup your chin with his pudgy fingers.

"Oh yess," he crooned, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "A rare beauty indeed. You'll fetch a pretty penny, my dear. Or perhaps... you might be of use to me in other ways." His grip tightened, and you winced as his grimy nails bit into your skin.

"I am a navigator," you said through gritted teeth, trying to keep your voice steady. "Not a commodity to be sold or used. If you have any sense, you'll let me do my job and not treat me like chattel."

The man threw back his head, a shrill laugh erupting from his throat. His greasy face twisted into a cruel grin, his yellowed teeth bared like a predator toying with its prey.

"Oh please," he scoffed, shaking his head. "A woman as a navigator? As if." He turned slightly, gesturing to the room around him, where the other men chuckled in agreement. "Women are bad luck on ships. You're lucky you're being sold, girl. With your looks, some rich man might buy you. Keep you as a little whore, maybe."

His mocking tone made your blood boil. You clenched your fists, feeling the heat rise in your chest, but you forced yourself to maintain composure. He was trying to provoke you, belittle you, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crumbling under his words.

"Bad luck? You’re the one who's unlucky," you snapped, lifting your chin defiantly. "I’ve navigated through storms worse than your ship can survive and waters darker than that stain on your shirt. Without someone like me, you'd be lucky to avoid running aground before dawn. Sell me off if you want, but it'll be your loss when you're stranded out there with nothing but your ignorance and superstitions."

His eyes darkened, the amusement in them turning cold as he stepped closer, his breath rancid against your face. He laughed again, quieter this time, but more sinister.

"You've got fire," he sneered. "But fire snuffs out quick at sea. And I don’t need some chit telling me how t’ run my ship." He tilted his head, considering you for a moment, before his lips twisted into a nasty smirk. "Tell you what. Since you're so eager to prove your worth... If you can lead me and my crew to the next port—alive—I’ll consider giving you a job."

You felt a flicker of hope, but it was quickly snuffed out by his next words.

"Not that I believe for a second you can," he continued, gesturing dismissively to one of his men. "Put her in the chart room. Give her the old maps and tools. Let's see what she can do with those rusty relics."

His men seized you roughly by the arms and dragged you down a narrow corridor. The stench of mildew filled the air as they threw open the door to a small, dimly lit room. It was more of a storage closet than a proper chart room. Tattered maps lay strewn across a dust-covered table, their edges crumbling from age. Instruments sat in a pile on the floor, as if someone threw them in and forgot about them eons ago. It was an insult to your craft.

The door slammed shut behind you, and you were left in the damp silence. You glared at the mess in front of you, wiping your hands on your pants as you surveyed the room. Some of the instruments were so worn they might not even function properly anymore.

"These fools wouldn’t know how to chart a course if their fucking lives depended on it," you muttered under your breath, grabbing the least-damaged map from the pile. Your hands shook as you unfurled it, your mind already racing to piece together what little you could.

Your eyes traced the faded lines, the names of ancient ports barely legible. But you had no choice. You needed to find a way to navigate this ship to safety—not just for yourself, but because proving them wrong had become more than just a matter of pride.

Hours passed as you pored over the charts, plotting a course that would take them through the least dangerous waters. You marked out safe harbours and potential hazards, making notes on a scrap of parchment. By the time you finished, your head was pounding and your eyes were heavy with fatigue.

You leaned back in the rickety chair, staring up at the ceiling. The ship creaked and groaned around you, the sound of waves lapping against the hull felt like a little man hammering away into your skull. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of rest. You knew that the coming days would be difficult, but you were quite determined to survive, to find a way out of this hellhole.

As the ship rocked gently on the waves, you drifted off to sleep, your dreams filled with visions of making way to faraway shores.

Over the course of the next two weeks, you poured every ounce of your skill and determination into navigating the ship through open waters and rapidly changing currents. The vast expanse of the open sea stretched out before you, a canvas of endless blue under the watchful eye of the sun and moon, and the occasional dark clouds that wept above you. You worked tirelessly, plotting courses, adjusting sails, and ensuring the ship stayed on a safe path. You had already saved them from a deadly storm and a series of hidden reefs, but despite your invaluable contributions, you were more like a prisoner than a respected navigator.

Every night, you could feel the disgusting gazes of the revolting crewmen following you around as you moved about the deck, their crude catcalls and whistles echoing through the darkness. Their words, filled with suggestive taunts and vulgarity, went on with a break. You were tired of it all. You would quicken your pace, doing your best to avoid their lustful stares, but the feeling of being watched never left you.

Not to mention your living quarters were nothing less than abysmal. You had been given a tiny, fishy-smelling cabin barely large enough to fit a untrustworthy hammock and a simple, rickety chair. The walls were damp, the paint was peeling and mould hung around rent free. The cabin had no proper bathroom, just a cracked basin for washing, and you were forced to bathe with your clothes on to preserve some semblance of privacy and dignity. The limited water you were allotted was often murky, tainted by the ship's grime and filth.

Meals were a farce. The crew seemed to take pleasure in your discomfort, providing you with nothing more than stale, dry bread, hardened fish and tepid water, barely enough to keep you alive. Your stomach grumbled constantly, a relentless gnawing hunger that left you feeling weak and light-headed. You would sit in your cramped cabin, picking at the bread, trying to muster the strength to face another day. It was a test of endurance, a form of torture that gnawed away at your resolve with each passing hour.

Despite your dire circumstances, you knew you had no choice but to obey. Your earlier demands had placed you in a dangerous position, and any hint of defiance could tilt the balance against your favour. You walked a thin line, a weak rope that even a trapeze artist would refuse.

On your sixteenth day on the ship, you woke up earlier than usual, to the soft creaking of the ship, your senses still dulled by the fitful sleep that had become your nightly routine. The confines of your smelly, damp cabin felt more oppressive each day, the weak hammock beneath you barely providing rest. You stretched your aching limbs and splashed your face with the dull water from the cracked basin, trying to shake off the persistent lethargy that clung onto you like a second skin. The stale bread left from your last meal sat untouched on the rickety chair, your stomach too nauseous to consider eating.

You were in the midst of your daily routine, preparing for another gruelling day of work, the same work you once enjoyed now seemed like an unnecessary pain. You prepared to walk out of the cabin, dreading the unwanted attention from the others, when a sudden, deafening boom echoed through the ship. The floorboards shuddered beneath your feet, and the air seemed to recoil with the force of the explosion. For a moment, you stood frozen in place, your mind struggling to process the cacophony of sounds that followed—the clamour of footsteps, the frantic shouts, and the ominous creaking of the ship as it tilted to one side, making you stumble.

Your heart raced as you heard the muffled sounds of screaming and scurrying outside your door. Panic surged through your veins, and you moved to the door, only to find it locked from the outside. You cursed under your breath, tears welling up in your eyes. The realisation that you were trapped, powerless to escape whatever chaos had engulfed the ship, sent a wave of despair crashing over you.

“Pirates! Save yourself!” someone screamed, their voice raw with terror. The slurred shrieks of the slaver captain followed, barking out orders with a frantic urgency. “Abandon ship! No first- Get me out of here!”

Your pulse quickened as you grasped the small window set high in your door. It was just out of reach. You grabbed the chair, its legs wobbly and unstable, and clambered onto it, pressing your face to the grimy glass. You could see only a narrow slice of the chaos outside, figures darting back and forth in a desperate frenzy. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the acrid smoke that drifted through the corridors.

As you strained to see more, a thud shook the door, and the chair beneath you wobbled alarmingly. You let out a strangled cry, gripping the edges of the window for balance. The sound of gunshots reverberated through the wooden walls, each one a sharp, violent punctuation in the symphony of terror. A thick, dark liquid began to seep through the crack at the bottom of the door, pooling on the floor beneath your feet. You felt your stomach churn as the realisation hit you—blood.

You screamed, a raw, primal sound that tore through your throat, and the colour drained from your face. You banged on the door, your fists bruising against the wood, but your cries were lost in the maelstrom of chaos outside.

Suddenly, a voice pierced through the din, smooth and chillingly calm. “Found a slave in here,” it called out, its tone laced with a seductive menace that made your skin crawl. You pressed your ear to the door, straining to catch a glimpse of your would-be captors, but your vision swam with tears and fear.

Before you could react, a hand slammed against the window, and the force of the impact sent your chair teetering. You lost your balance, falling hard to the floor, your head striking the rough wood with a sickening thud. Pain exploded in your skull, and your vision blurred. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, mingling with the distant sound of voices and the echo of your own screams.

The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was the vague outline of a figure moving past the window, and the door being wrenched open with a splintering crack. The scent of salt and gunpowder filled your nostrils, mingling with the coppery tang of blood. The voice, with its cruel, mocking lilt, whispered one last chilling phrase as consciousness slipped away. “This one will fetch a fine price.”

The voice, gruff and edged with impatience, cut through the haze of your fading consciousness. "Yeah, first we need to fix that nasty gash in the side of her head."

Everything went black.

When you finally stirred, it felt like an eternity had passed. Your head throbbed with a deep, pulsing ache, and your limbs felt as if they were weighed down with stones. You groaned, your voice a rasping whisper for water, as you struggled to open your eyes. The light in the room was blinding, stabbing into your skull with every tiny flicker.

Slowly, painfully, you turned your head, your vision swimming in and out of focus. The room around you was dimly lit, the walls rough and shadowed. The scent of salt and damp wood filled the air, but it was the figure by your side that drew your attention. A man stood there, dressed in a white tunic splattered with dull red and brown stains. You blinked, your foggy mind trying to make sense of it all.

"Where... where am I? How long was I out?" You croaked out, your throat dry and raw.

The man turned, and for a moment, all thoughts of pain and confusion fled your mind. He was the most striking man you had ever seen, with piercing brown eyes and a rugged handsomeness that made your breath catch in your throat. His blonde hair was tied back in a careless manner, stray strands framing his sharp features.

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, your words slipping out before you could stop yourself. "Yep, I’m dead, and there’s even an angel here to take me away."

The man's expression twisted into a snarl at your words, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Ain’t an angel, lass. I’m a doctor. I fixed you up, but now you’ll be sent off somewhere, I guess."

Your mind stuttered to a halt, confusion crashing over her. You’re stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Suddenly, panic flared in your chest, and you bolted upright despite the sharp pain that tore through your body.

"Wait, what?" You gasped,your heart pounding wildly.

"You heard me," he replied, his tone flat but certain.

"But why?" you questioned, your voice trembling with both confusion and fear.

The man approached you, his demeanour calm and seemingly harmless as he carried a box filled with strange bottles and vials and a glass of water. “I dunno. My job was to patch you up, doll. The rest is up to the captain to decide.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Wait, captain? This is a ship—are you pirates?!" you screeched, your voice rising in panic. Instinctively, you shifted further up on the bed, clutching the sheets tightly against your chest as if they could somehow protect you from whatever horrors awaited.

The man laughed, the sound a low rumble in his chest. “What, you thought you were back in whatever noble house you came from?”

“N-no,” you stammered, the denial slipping from your lips before you could even process it. “Of course not, but… what do you want from me?”

The man sighed, a trace of weariness in the sound, before a small awkward smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Let me put some ointment on your wound,” he said, gesturing to the box he carried. “Then I’ll take you to the captain. He’ll decide your fate... don’t worry, sometimes……. he’s merciful.”

A look of horror passed over your face, the weight of his words sinking in. But as much as you wanted to fight, to resist, you knew you had no choice. Once again you were trapped. With trembling hands, you released your grip on the sheet and took the glass of water he held towards you. You took a few sips before gulping it down and allowing him to come nearer.

He moved with a practised ease, gently unwrapping the gauze from around your head. You hadn’t even realised it was there, there was dull throbbing in your skull because of whatever injury you had sustained. He dabbed at the wound with a wet cloth, wiping away the dried blood, and you flinched as the cold air touched the raw skin.

When he began applying the ointment, you winced, expecting the sting of pain to worsen. But instead, a soothing coolness spread across the wound, the pain ebbing away within minutes. It was as if the discomfort had never existed.

He finished wrapping your head in fresh bandages, his hands quick and efficient. You touched the side of your head, your mouth falling open in awe when you realised there was no more pain.

"You must have magic in your hands," you murmured, your voice filled with genuine wonder. "I barely feel any pain at all."

He smiled widely at your words, a touch of pride lighting up his eyes. “No magic, lass. Just a good bit of skill.” He extended a hand to help you stand, his grip firm and steady as he guided you to your feet .

You wobbled slightly, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, but he steadied you with ease. With a nod, he led you out of the dimly lit room, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on your chest as you headed toward whatever fate the captain had in store for you.

Stepping out of the door, you were immediately hit with a blast of hot, humid air, the salty tang of the sea filling your nostrils. The sunlight, far more intense than the dim lights of the room you had just left, assaulted your eyes, forcing you to squint against its brightness. As your eyes adjusted, you took in your surroundings, following the man down a narrow passage that led out onto the deck.

The deck was expansive, far larger than you had expected, and meticulously maintained. The dark wood beneath your feet was smooth and polished, almost gleaming in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the grimy, weathered deck of the ship you had been on before. Men moved about with a practised, almost military-like precision, their movements synchronised as they managed the sails and ropes with an efficiency that belied the chaos you had expected from a pirate crew. Voices rang out across the deck, some shouting orders, others responding with quick, sharp affirmations.

Your gaze was drawn upward to the towering mainmast, which seemed to loom over you like a giant, casting a long shadow across the deck. "We must be on the poop deck," you thought, your mind racing to make sense of the ship’s layout. Ahead of you, you could just barely make out the bowsprit extending far into the distance, the very tip of the ship. The grandeur of the ship astonished you, its size and the sheer opulence of its upkeep making you wonder just how rich these pirates must be.

The man led the way, his footsteps silent on the wooden planks as you followed closely behind, your eyes darting around to take in as much as you could. Despite the flurry of activity around you, none of the crew seemed to pay you any mind. They were too focused on their tasks to spare even a glance in your direction, as if your presence was of no consequence to them. The lack of attention should have reassured you, it was a relief from the constant surveillance you had on the slaver ship, but it only deepened the knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach.

As you reached the main deck, the man remained quiet, offering no explanation or comfort. The tension in your chest grew with each step, your heart pounding in rhythm with the ship's creaking timbers. Finally, you arrived at a small staircase that led down into another passage. This passage, in contrast to the bright sunlight above, was dark and foreboding, the walls closing in around you as you descended. The shift from light to dark was jarring, and you found yourself instinctively trying to close in on yourself, away from the shadows that seemed to press into you from all sides.

The man stopped at the end of the passage, in front of a large carved, heavy door that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. “Wait here,” he instructed, his voice curt but not unkind. He pushed the door open and slipped inside, leaving you standing alone in the darkness.

You stared at the door, your breath coming in shallow, anxious gasps. "This must be the captain’s room," you thought,your imagination running wild with all the possible horrors that could lie beyond that door. The longer you stood there, the more your nerves frayed, each second stretching out into an eternity. Your mind conjured up images of what the captain might be like—cruel, ruthless, and utterly terrifying. You could almost see his large figure and barbarous appearance.

Your heart raced, the silence around you thickening like a shroud. Every creak of the ship, every distant shout from the deck above, made you jump. You fought the urge to flee, knowing you had nowhere to go, no means of escape. All you could do was wait, your ability to overthink seemed to have reached a new level, until the door finally opened and you would come face to face with the man who held your fate in his hands.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, and the man stepped out, his expression unreadable. He gestured for you to go inside, but you hesitated, your feet rooted to the spot. The fact that he didn’t seem to be coming in with you made your heart pound even harder in your chest. When you still didn’t move, he gave you a gentle but firm push, and before you could protest, the door was closed behind you with a resounding thud.

You stumbled into the room, your breath catching in your throat as you took in your surroundings. The space was dimly lit, casting deep shadows across the walls, but you could tell it was large, much larger than the cramped quarters you had been kept in before. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with books, maps, and various trinkets that glimmered in the low light—treasures from far-off lands, you assumed. One side of the room was dominated by a large window that offered a breathtaking view of the endless sea, the horizon glowing with the last light of the setting sun. Just how long had you been waiting.

But what truly caught your attention was the man standing in front of the window, his back turned to you. He wore a black tunic that clung to his lean frame, the edges wrapped in black bandages that extended down to his palms. His tight leather pants emphasized his sharp, angular build, and though he wasn’t very tall, he exuded an aura of power and intimidation that filled the room. His hair was striking—half black, half white, styled into a short mullet that gave him an almost otherworldly appearance. He was nothing like you had imagined.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "H-hello?" you stuttered out, your words barely above a whisper.

The man turned slowly, revealing a face that was both haunting and mesmerising. What puzzled you most was the pair of dark sunglasses he wore, despite the fact that they were inside a dimly lit room. His lips curled into a menacing smile, one that sent a shiver down your spine. And then he spoke, his voice dripping with a honeyed malice, the same voice you had heard just before you had lost consciousness.

“Ahh, finally, the sleeping beauty is awake,” he drawled, his smile widening as he took a step toward her. His presence was suffocating, every movement deliberate and calculated. “Tell me, go ahead. Negotiate your life, beg if you must. Then we’ll see what to do with you.”

He moved to the large table in front of the window, sitting down with a casual grace that belied the danger he radiated. He propped his feet up on the table, the heavy black boots he wore catching your eye. They were stained with dark splotches of red, the sight of which made your stomach recoil.

You tried to speak, but your voice came out in stammers, very much unlike the confidence you held when you talked to the slavers. Your mind raced as you searched for something, anything, that might save you.

He lifted his sunglasses, his eyes were a striking grey, like an uncontainable storm. Suddenly the room felt even more suffocating than before.

“I said speak,” he commanded in a ruthlessly calm voice, it sent shivers down your spine. This man was something different.

You didn’t want to speak but words came out anyway, as if someone had physically forced you to. “I-I’m a navigator,” you blurted, your words tumbling over each other in a desperate rush. “I can help you—I’ve guided many ships through perilous waters. I can be useful to you. Please, if you spare me, I’ll do whatever you need. I’ve helped with multiple voyages, charted courses, and avoided storms…”

Your words trailed off as the man laughed, the sound echoing in the room like a cruel mockery. His laughter was sharp, cutting through your rambling pleas and leaving you in a stunned silence. You stood there, trembling, as his mirth subsided, feeling smaller and more like an insignificant fly everytime he looked you over.

Just as you were about to try again, the door behind you creaked open. You froze, your heart lurching in your chest as you heard the sound of boots on the wooden floor. You turned slightly, your eyes widening as seven men entered the room, including the one who had patched you up earlier. They spread out behind you, their presence like a barrier between you and the door, it made your knees weak.

The room felt much smaller now, the walls closing in on you as you stood there, trapped between the intimidating captain in front of you and the intimidating crew behind you. Your mind raced, the weight of the situation crashing down on you as you realised just how dire your circumstances had become.

You looked around, your eyes darting from one man to the next, taking in their appearances and trying to read the expressions on their faces. Each one of them exuded a certain aura, something you couldn’t quite decipher. But the tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to make your skin crawl.

The man in the centre, the one you assumed to be the captain, spoke again, his voice laced with a poisonous edge. “So, tell me, what should we do with this young lady here?”

One of the men stepped forward, his height almost matching that of the captain. He had a permanent smirk on his face, a look that immediately filled you with a sense of revulsion. “I told you earlier too—we should sell her. We’ll get paid a hefty sum for a pretty face like hers.”

Your expression twisted into one of disgust, your heart beating deafeningly at the casual cruelty in his words. But before you could react, another man spoke up, this one taller and far more muscular than the others. His broad shoulders and imposing frame made him look like a man who was used to handling trouble with his fists. “Hey, I thought we didn’t do that anymore,” he said, his tone almost childlike as he pouted, clearly not taking the situation as seriously as you wished he would.

The first man, with his smirk still firmly in place, shrugged, side eyeing his friend. “I was just joking,” he said, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

Before you could process that, a third man cut in, his voice sharp and dismissive. “It’s all a waste. Just throw her into the water for the sharks. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

Her heart dropped at the suggestion, fear gripping you tightly, but then the man who had healed you spoke up, his voice carrying a note of annoyance. “Hey, then what did I do all that healing for if she was just going to become fish food? We could have thrown her in before I wasted my time.”

The men began to bicker among themselves, their voices rising and overlapping as they argued over your fate. It was as if your life was nothing more than a trivial matter to be debated, and it felt like a cold wet blanket had been dropped on top of you.

The captain, watching the chaos unfold, chuckled to himself. With a wave of his hand, he silenced the room, his voice cutting through the noise with ease. “Now, now, boys, let’s not be hasty. She said she’s a navigator, didn’t she?” He turned his gaze back to you, his expression unreadable. “You see, our last man accidentally tipped over into the ocean, so we’re in need of a new navigator. Why don’t you give it a go? If you fail, well…” He paused, an innocent look spreading across his face, though his eyes remained cold. “Maybe you’ll end up with him.”

You stared at him, aghast at his words. The casual way he spoke of life and death, as if they were nothing more than a game. This was not a man who valued life—at least, not the lives of those he deemed beneath him. And now, your fate rested in the hands of this man who would as easily toss you overboard as he would give you a chance to prove your worth.

Your mind raced, a deadweight pressing down on you. You had no choice but to accept his offer—if it could even be called that. But deep down, you knew that this was only the beginning of a difficult journey, you had to play your cards right.

You agreed hastily, your voice trembling as you thanked him for sparing your life. The captain laughed again, a sound that was more chilling than comforting, before turning his attention away from you. "Someone, show her the way to her cell—oops, I meant room," he ordered, a wicked grin stretching across his face as he returned to the window, sunglasses coming back down, cackling all the way.

As he stared out at the darkening horizon, another man, much taller and with a gaunt appearance, followed him. His hair was stark white, and there was something about his hollow cheeks and sunken black eyes that made you shiver. He leaned in close to the captain, whispering in hushed tones, their conversation too quiet for you to hear. you could only watch as the two men exchanged words.

The rest of the men began to file out of the room slowly, their presence still made you uneasy in the back of your mind. In the end two of the tallest still stayed behind, one of them placing a firm hand on your shoulder and pushing you forward slightly. He seemed friendlier than the others, and he quickly said, "Let’s go," in a tone that was almost reassuring.

As you made your way out of the captain’s quarters, you noticed that his friend, who had stayed silent, was indifferent and least interested in you. He kept flipping a small, gleaming blade in his hand, the metallic click of the weapon opening and closing sending a wave of anxiety through you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to stab himself—or worse, you.

The friendlier man, walking beside you, began to speak quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush as he droned on about the different parts of the ship and the engineering behind them. He spoke so fast that you could barely understand him, but at least his upbeat demeanour was a welcome change from the coldness you had faced so far. His enthusiasm, however, was lost on you; all you could think about was the blade flicking in the other man's hand and the fact that you were at the mercy of these pirates.

After what felt like an endless walk, they reached a small room, on the opposite side of the captain’s quarters and suspiciously close to the main deck. The indifferent man, his voice surprisingly deep, said, "We’re here," before pushing you inside. You barely had time to protest before he quickly closed the door and locked it with a solid click.

The cheery one spoke up from behind the door, his face appearing in the small, barred window set into it. "There’s food for you on the table, and some spare clothes in the chest near the bed. The clothes might be big, but you’ll have to make do for now. There are also spare sheets in the chest, some paper and pencils, and water, of course. The room is locked for your own safety, and if you need help, just tap loudly a few times under the flower painting over the bed—someone will come to you. Good night!" And with that, his face disappeared, leaving you alone in the room.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the distant sound of boots echoing down the hallway until they, too, faded into nothingness. You stood there for a moment, shaken by the events of the day, unable to move or think. It was as if your body had finally caught up with the shock of it all, and you felt the weight of your situation settle heavily on your shoulders.

Slowly, you walked over to the table and saw the surprisingly good-looking food laid out for you. A nice bowl of hot stew, some fluffy bread, and roasted meat—simple, but more appetising than anything you had eaten in days. You sat down and began to eat, savouring every bite. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now, and the warmth of the food filled you with a small measure of comfort. As you ate, tears welled up in your eyes and slowly started to drip down.

After finishing your meal, you opened the chest near the bed and found a white tunic and a pair of black linen shorts. The tunic was big, but you managed to hold it together with your own belt, and though the shorts were also loose and came down to your knees, you made do with what you had. You then lay down on the bed, the soft sheets a welcome relief against your skin.

As you stared up at the ceiling, your mind raced with thoughts of the day’s events. How easily you had been spared from death, or worse, and how it all seemed almost too simple. Was it all just to scare you, or was there something deeper going on behind the scenes? The uncertainty of it all terrified you, and you felt a pang of loneliness that threatened to overwhelm you.

But as much as your thoughts tormented you, the heavy exhaustion of your body and the gentle rocking of the ship slowly pulled you into a dreamless sleep.

Comment under masterlist to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist: @yandere-stories @passionandsuga @beabatiny @sadtoru @pixie0627 @nagynomi98 @bunnychui

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3vergr3en · 9 days ago

Text

Kissin' and hope they caught us!

part one | spotify playlist

PAIRING (📖) . loser!collegeau!jake x fem!college!reader

ADDITIONAL INFO (💻) . porn with VERY little to no plot, fluff if you squint, dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do that pls), soft!dom!jake turns into a slight hard!dom, jake comes inside, they're so in love with each other, it's implied they have another round at the end. (did not proofread this btw 🙊)

Word Count (📃) . 3.2K

Your place was so pretty. Everything about it screams you.

He looks around in awe, admiring the numerous houseplants perched on shelves and your window sill. He remembered you mentioning that you didn't want to spend an extra 10 to 15 grand on a dorm that you would hate. Instead, you saved up years of paychecks to rent an apartment off campus.

It feels so intimate when it's only you two. Alone. What can happen between two people who are alone? Did he mention that you guys were alone? In your apartment. After getting the best head of his life (as if he had others to compare to). Every provocative thought he's ever had about you is prodding at his brain, teasing him and mini him down there.

"You can get yourself situated, I'm gonna go change into something more comfortable." You say shortly before disappearing into your room.

He carefully sits on your couch, hands placed on each knee. He's nervous, okay? He continues to examine your living room, liking the cozy atmosphere the warm string lights bring.

Eyeing the Polaroid pictures hung in a zig-zag pattern on your wall near your TV, he notices a specific picture of you two outside a movie theater. He recalls the fond memory, a small smile appearing on his face. It was a fun night that he needed desperately. Looking back at it now, he realizes that before meeting you— his nights were mainly spent isolated in his dorm or the study room in the library. How sad.

"Okay, let's do this!" You cheer, walking over to where Jake sits, bringing the boy out of his thoughts (which seems to be an occurring habit).

Jake turns his head and takes one look at you to know that he's doomed.

You were in a pink, floral two-piece pajama set. The top barely covered your chest. Fuck. And you were not wearing a bra. He can see your hardened nipples poking through the cotton fabric. And your shorts? God, they did nothing to cover your plump ass. He can see your cheeks peeking out, jiggling with every step.

You knew exactly what he was thinking about. You had him wrapped around your finger the second you got down on your knees (jokes on you though, he was yours the second you laid eyes on him for the first time. He'll never admit that though).

"Alright, where did we leave off?" You hum, plopping down right next to him. You shifted onto your knees, leaning the side of your body against the backrest of your couch.

"I.." He trails off, letting out a shakey breath. He scrunches his nose to lift the frame of his glasses higher. How could he answer this question? Were you talking about the physics you guys went over before you.. y'know? Or were you talking about that?

Cute. You thought.

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot. Anatomy." You emphasized with a smile, tilting your head slightly to the left.

His eyebrows perk up, "O-Oh. Yeah.. anatomy." He clears his throat, stealing a quick glance at your exposed cleavage.

You push your breasts together with your arms as you lean forward, "I'm more of a visual learner by the way." You whisper against the shell of his ear. Yeah, he definitely knows by now.

His hands shift off his knees and onto the cushion beside his thighs when you crawl onto his lap.

He whimpers at the feeling of your clothed cunt sitting atop his growing erection. He closed his eyes momentarily, the sensation already overwhelming him. Someone end him now before he cums in his pants.

You rest your hands on his shoulders, "I've always found you cute, Jakey." You mumble, feeling him twitch underneath you. Oh? Guess you found another weak spot of his. "Always wondered what your lips feel like.." You trail off, taking his lips in yours.

His hesitant hands finally find a spot on your waist, his cold hands against your warm skin make you shiver. His lips move with yours in a messy rhythm. It was sloppy but filled with such need and desperation.

He can't wrap his head around the fact that he managed to get his dick sucked before getting a kiss from you. But it's all real when you grind down on his bulge, earning a painful groan from the boy. You make him so unbelievably hard, it's embarrassing.

You break away from the kiss, biting back the smile that threatened to form when you catch the fog forming in his glasses. Oh, how you want to ruin this man. "I've always wanted to do this with you," You start off, lips trailing down his chin, to his neck, then to his collarbone, "Do you want this as much as I—" You bite down on his bare flesh and he whimpers, "Do?" Jake moans when you start grinding down against him at a slow, agonizing pace, "Fuck— Yes." He hisses through gritted teeth. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your sides, forcing your hips to rut against his even faster.

You raise the back of your hand to your mouth to muffle your sounds. The friction of his bulge rubbing against your aching clit through your shorts had you bucking your hips forwards, "A-Ah, Jaeyun!" You squeak out, hands going to wrap around the boy's wrists. "Mm.. so s-sensitive." He grunts, lips finding a place on your neck. He continued to kiss around, sucking multiple marks on your skin until one particular spot had you moaning out his name. Yeah, he may be inexperienced, but there's a thing called porn. He knows it's not the best source to learn from, but hey, it gets the basics down

You can feel one of his hands inching up your sides, almost as if he was hesitant to do something. You did him a favor by pulling his hand farther up your torso till he's practically groping the side of your breast. "I'm not made out of glass, Jake." You reminded him with a breathless giggle. You soon feel a familiar sensation begin to pool in the pit of your stomach. You hadn't realized just how horny you actually were. Like every touch he left on your skin made you burn for more. If you weren't careful, you might last shorter than you expected

"Jake, I-I think you should slow down." You gasp when you feel him bite down on your neck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to know it'd leave a mark for the next few days. You can feel him shaking his head against your neck, almost frantically like he was going to lose something, "Not when I can feel you sh-shaking against me." How does he—?

You arch your chest more into his hands. The same hands you spent hours daydreaming about. The ones that were gently fondling your boob through your shirt, thumb grazing against your perky nipple. "I'm close, Jake."

The times when you curse Jaeyun for being a little too into his studies, especially now when he's taking his time in studying how your body reacts to his touches.

You would make a snarky comment if it weren't for Jake humping against you right now, bringing you extremely close to your high. "Shit. Me too, Y/n." He moans into your neck, hands hooking underneath your arm to grab at your shoulders, bringing your body to be as close to his. The smell of your fruit-scented shampoo floods his senses, spurring him to come undone in his pants with a drawn-out groan.

You were surprised to find yourself liking that more than you thought. It was so hot to see him cum merely by humping you. Some people would find that to be embarrassing, but for you, it only made you yearn for him even more. If it was any other guy— well. Jake wasn't any other guy. With him, he could literally start barking while calling you mommy (projecting yourself much?) and you'd still find him to be the most handsome guy you've ever laid eyes on.

"Fuck! M-My god, yes!" With a few frantic rolls of your hips, you felt the coil within you snapping and a wave of ecstasy washed over you almost immediately, causing you to twitch against the man below you.

You were only given merely a minute to calm down from your high before feeling his hand snake from your chest down your stomach. "Jake?" Your legs clamp around his hand that was currently in your shorts, prying your soaked panties to the side, "Wh.. What are you— oh." He runs his middle finger down between your slicked folds, the tip prodding at your entrance.

Your senses were heightened as your post-orgasm haze still lingered. You didn't know if you should tell him to keep going or not. But in all honesty, why would you want him to stop? If this is the chance to finally have those long, slender fingers you've spent countless hours daydreaming about inside of you, why stop now?

He watches as your face contorts when he slides a finger in. He isn't sure where this new-found confidence came through. Did it come after he had his dick shoved down your throat? Or when he made you cum undone? He's not complaining when he currently has you falling apart on his fingers. "You're so wet.. makes it so easy for me to just slip it in." That must've done something with the way you cried out his name. Or maybe it's when he curled his finger against a certain spot that made you see white.

He easily slips in another, immediately curling it to rip out another cry from you. "Keep moaning like that, baby."

The pet name makes you clench around his fingers, and he couldn't help but grin. "Jake..please."

"Yeah? You want more?" He asks heatedly, curling and uncurling his fingers again, making you shudder against him.

You spread your legs farther apart, nodding as your lip was tugged between your teeth.

Jake slowly pulls his fingers out of you, only to go rub small circles on your puffy clit with his thumb. Having the girl of his dreams turning to putty in his hands? It was an ego boost he thought he'd never needed until now. Plus, it was so fucking hot.

In the meantime, you stripped your top off while Jake tugged down his sweats along with his boxers till his cock sprang free. It stood upright and proud, tip red and leaking. You swallowed hard, worry beginning to poke at you. If it barely could fit in your mouth without forcing it, how was he going to fit in you?

But you have no time to ask questions when you find yourself hovering above his tip, using a free hand to help align it to your entrance.

You both sucked in a sharp breath when you sunk down till only the head was inside. You know it's going to be a really tight fit. His hands curiously cupped both of your breasts, relishing in how soft they were against his hands. "You're sucking me in, holy shit." Jake curses, eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt inch by inch.

By the time you were halfway, you took a deep breath before sinking fully down in one swift motion till he reached the hilt inside of you.

Jake cursed your name out loud while his hands made their way back onto your waist, only this time was his grip harder than before. You let out a mewl that could only be compared to coming straight out of a porno. Tears swelled up in your eyes, which Jaeyun kissed away when it spilled down your cheeks. The stretch was a perfect blend of pain and pleasure. It hurts since he's the biggest you've ever taken. But it feels so good with the way he's prying your walls apart, stuffing you full. Your imagination could never live up to the real feeling.

What caught you by surprise though was Jake suddenly laying you down on the couch, towering over you while his dick still nuzzled deep within.

His glasses threatening to slip off at any given moment. As much as you would love to watch him fuck you with his adorable little specs on, you can't afford to risk it breaking and then never seeing him in those specs you love so much. You reached up and carefully pulled it off, folding it before placing it on the coffee table next to you guys.

He gives you a warm smile, and you feel your chest churn at the sight. God, this boy seriously has such an effect on you.

"Thank you." His accent is evidently thick, making you unintentionally clench down on him, causing him to groan. "Fuck, don't do that, baby." He mumbles weakly before leaning down to kiss you tenderly, running his tongue over your bottom lip.

You slip your hands underneath his shirt, feeling up his body. You can feel how toned he was against your palms. You pull away with a little smile, “Since when did you have abs?” You help slide it over his head, discarding the shirt somewhere in your living room. “Oh. I uhm, I work out in my spare time.” He explains. And only then do you glance over at his arms, soaking in the sight of his arms naturally flexing to show off his muscular biceps.

How much did you have to beg to have him put you in a chokehold?

"I like you, a lot." Jaeyun suddenly confesses, taking you by surprise.

"Jake. You're currently balls deep inside of me. You think I would let you do this if I hadn't liked you?"

You both stared at each other till you both burst out giggling. Seems that you guys were busy basking in your own perverted thoughts to realize how obvious your feelings appeared to be.

"For a nerd, you sure are stupid."

"For..." He starts, "Yeah, I got nothing." He laughs, combing back a strand of hair away from your pretty little face.

Shortly afterward, he goes to plant open-mouthed kisses along your jawline as his hands roam throughout your naked body, making sure to not leave an inch of your skin untouched.

You slightly grew impatient, resulting in you rolling your hips upwards.

His big hands pin your hips down onto the couch, forcing you to stay put, "Y-You need to stop doing that." He whines.

Before you could get something out, he was quick to pull out halfway only to slam back in. His mushroom tip rammed perfectly into your cervix, ripping out a choked-out sob from you.

His hands grab the back of your knees before pinning them up against your chest. He positions himself up on his knees, allowing himself to set a slow rhythm.

In between each thrust, he'd purposely thrust his pelvis flush against your ass then roll his hips, making you feel exactly how big he is. "Like how I feel buried inside this tight pussy?"

"God, yes." You purred, nails digging into his biceps.

Jake's head hung low, unable to pry his eyes away from seeing your pussy lips wrapped around his dick, your cunt swallowing his entire length with ease. He huffs, beginning to snap his hips back and forth at a fast pace.

Your body jolts with every harsh thrust. And all you could do at that moment was to take everything he gave you with a mantra of his name spilling out from your swollen, reddened lips. "o-oh my god! J-Jaeyun, shit!"

Your eyes were everywhere on him. They were eyeing the layer of sweat on his chest that glistened due to the lights. Then they traveled down between your legs, watching Jake pound into you with such determination. Now, they're staring straight into his puppy-dog-like eyes that were doted in lust.

His hand grasped your jaw, forcing you to look at him so he could watch how you reacted to his relentless thrusts. His thoughts were in disarray, drunk off the sensation of your walls squeezing around him as if you wanted to milk him dry. You felt as if your brain had short-circuited, babbling out incoherent nonsense. "Oh fuck, oh, god, fuck yes! There! Just like that, fucking god!"

You were nearly sobbing at this point. It was almost too much when you felt a fire pooling low in your abdomen. Jake could sense you were near with the way your walls were fluttering around his dick. "Are you close, baby?" He rasps, pressing his forehead against yours.

Your eyes were screwed shut, and the only thing open was your mouth which poured out a series of obscene noises along with a choked 'yes!'.

Jake bought his other hand up to rub fast circles against your clit, bringing you over your tipping point. "'m gonna cum, jae! Fuck— I'm cumming!" Like a spring coiling tightly and then being released, your orgasm crashes down on you. You feel both your body and mind dissolving into pleasure, clamping tightly around Jake's cock as a result.

You forced your eyelids apart in time to see Jake's face contort as his thrusts grew sloppy and erratic. His jaw hung low, tongue nearly poking out the side of his mouth (just like a puppy). "Gon' cum inside you, y/n. I like you so—" With a lewd cry, he nuzzles his face into your neck before fucking his cock deep into your sopping pussy, spurting out ropes and ropes of his hot, sticky cum to coat your inner walls.

His hips stuttered against yours. And you moan because you can feel his cock pulsating inside you, continuing to pump more cum inside you. At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if it began to leak out by now. "stuff you full of my f-fucking cum.. god, this tight pussy's milking me dry."

Although visibly spent from his mind-numbing orgasm, he made sure not to crush you by falling limp beside you.

You both bask in your post-orgasm daze by holding each other closely. His arm was slung around your waist whilst you nuzzled your face against his chest. His heart was palpitating, but he wasn't sure if it was from the earth-shattering sex he just had, or if it was the fact that he currently has you engulfed in his arms... after the most earth-shattering sex you guys just had.

"We should study together more often." Jake says, sending you a wink before reaching over to grab his glasses from the coffee table.

"Or.." You grab his glasses out of his hand, "We could do this more often," You slip on his specs, "—as boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Really?" He questions, eyebrows perking up. You can imagine the dog ears on him perking up as well.

You smile wholeheartedly, "Yes, really."

His hand cups the side of your face before he eagerly captures your lips into a passionate kiss. Your lips molded with his as if it were a perfect fit.

You pull away, letting him nuzzle his face into your neck, "Jake." You call out softly.

"Hm?" He answers.

"Were you planning on pulling out anytime soon?"

He pulls away from your neck to give you a playful smile. "I mean.. I can go for another round."

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

Text

Parole.

3k words, joel miller x f!reader

Jojo playlist, joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs

SUMMARY: PWP. Phone sex and just-got-out-of-jail sex.

WARNINGS: I8+, dirty talk, jacking off, groping while driving, oral F receiving, Unsafe P in V intercourse, semi-public (bathroom). Reader can sit on a sink.

A/N: cellmate's nephew!Joel, part 3 of 3 (just 8k total) , follows Jailbird and Collect Calls but you just need to know his aunt Mabel is your cellmate. This is the last of Jailbird for the foreseeable future. It’s been a fun diversion. This is not the last of Jojo.

—---

All goes well at your parole hearing. After you get your 72 Hour release notice, you call Joel.

He answers the phone, "You're gettin' out," and you can hear his smile.

"How did you–did Mabel tell you?"

"Had a feeling. So what, 3 days now?" He opens and squirts the lube.

"9pm Monday."

"You just made my dick so hard, baby."

"Jojo. . ."

"Hmm?"

"God, sorry - Joel"

"Call me whatever ya want, jailbird. Mm. Call me joel, call me jojo--mm, call me call me any time baby”

“Can’t wait to be on the other side of that glass.”

"And I'm gonna pop that post-penny cherry" (post-penitentiary)

“Shhh”

"What they're gonna un-parole ya 'cause there’s a hard dick waitin’ for ya?"

“Well, I like the sound of that,” you purr.

“Oh we’re gonna get nasty, baby,” he breathes.

“Mmm”

“You wear thongs, g-strings, whatcha wear?” His fist slurps up and down his cock.

“Thongs,” you tell him. “Boy shorts if I wanna be comfy.”

“Damn. . . that ass in boy shorts? Whew.”

“How ‘bout you?”

“Boxer briefs.”

“Mm, shoulda known. Those tight-ass pants”

“Yeah, ya like’em?”

“Like how ya wear’em”

“How’s that”

“Packing somethin’ fat and juicy for me.”

He moans. “Fuck yeah i am, just for you baby”

“Just for me?”

“‘S’all for you, baby. How ya want it first?”

“Honey, I just want it.”

“Can i come inside ya?”

“Mmmm, yeah. . .”

“Fuck, i’m gonna pump you full,” his voice tells you he’s already close.

“You better.”

“Fuck yeah, baby.” His hand is moving faster. “Ohhh, fuck” He shudders and groans long and drawn out as he comes.

“Started without me didn’t ya”

“Wouldn’t do that,” he says in a transparently false tone.

“Hope ya can last longer than that,” you tease.

“Fuck you,” he laughs. “Shit, maybe I can’t. ‘S’what ya do to me, baby.”

“Then we’ll just have to do it again.”

“Oh I’m grocery shoppin’ like it’s the apocalypse. Won’t have to leave the house for a week.”

—------

Mabel gives you one last poke-and-stick tattoo, a heart on your other hand, mirroring the location of your "clover." The last thing she tells you is, “He’s snipped, ya know. I took care of him after he did it. ”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, he knows he's not dad material," she explains, then lightens the mood with, "he's daddy, not dad," and a wink.

You're gonna miss her. But if things go well with Joel, you’ll see her again in a few months.

—----

Walking down the ramp from the tower toward the jail lobby, you can taste the freedom and almost forget what you’re wearing – booty skirt, platform heels, mesh crop top, fishnets.

His posture is what catches your eye first. Feet spread, arms crossed. Your eyes fall to his bulge then pan up to a white t-shirt struggling to contain the tattooed arms crossed in front of him. Gold chain, Adam's Apple. As his face comes into focus, he tilts his head back and squints, pursing his lips in a pained expression as he looks at you. His expression is enough to remind you what you’re wearing. By the time you reach him, he’s biting his lip, shaking his head at you with his eyes smiling.

He opens his arms and wraps around you for a full-body hug. He smells like fresh cologne, and he feels safe and comfortable. He feels like – ohhh, yeah, he’s already getting hard. You’re holding a plastic bag of your belongings—phone and keys—against his back.

“God damn,” he whispers into your hair and his pelvis subtly presses his growing arousal into you. He murmurs, “Mmm, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

He grabs your hand and your shoes click as you walk through the sliding doors to the parking lot. As soon as the doors slide closed behind you, he drops your hand and grabs your ass. His hand spans much more of your asscheek than you're used to. The beauty of the sky at dusk overwhelms you, even with the lights from the jail.

“Let’s make it to the car,” you laugh.

He puffs out his cheeks with an exhale and gets his keys out of his pocket with his free hand. Then he points to a big truck and unlocks it.

He opens the truck door for you and his hand on your ass helps you up into the seat. Oh the simple joy of getting in a vehicle. You start to grab the seatbelt, and he tells you, “nah, hold on a sec.” When he gets in the driver’s seat he slams up the center console, slides over and you turn to face him as he reaches you.

He grabs the back of your head and pulls your face into his. His tongue parts your lips and his mouth is minty. He sucks hard and gently chews your lips as he grabs your far thigh and puts it over his lap. Then he grabs you by both hips and pulls you all the way into his lap with your help so you’re straddling him. When your crotch meets the warm steel rod in his pants, you whimper and he sighs vocally. Then your mouths connect again. You’ve been dying of thirst and he’s a tall glass of water; you just can’t get enough.

His hands run down your fishnet thighs as you grind on him and make out. He playfully plucks one of the diamonds and murmurs in such a deep voice, “Thought ya weren’t wearin’ these, hmm?” Then he attacks your neck with his mouth, and you sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a Corrections Officer headed your way.

“Shit,” you say, “We should go.”

He groans.

“They're comin’, we gotta go,” you repeat and pry yourself off of him.

He takes a deep breath and his hips lift out of the seat as he adjusts himself, then scoots back over to the driver’s seat and buckles his seatbelt. You start to go back to the passenger seat and buckle yours, but he says, “get back over here.” He hands you the middle seatbelt.

—----

You tease, “we 'bout to peel outta here?”

"Buckle up, baby.”

He puts his hand behind you to back up. A whiff of his sweat under the cologne makes you want him even worse.

You awkwardly try to keep your hands to yourself. He’s the one driving, so you’ll let him initiate any distraction. "Where we headed?"

"How ‘bout we get ya some real food, ya hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

He gives a low whistle and says, “so could I, baby. can’t wait to taste ya." He looks at your legs. “Fuck.” He puts his hand on your thigh, a ring pressing into your skin. “Mmm.” His voice is so deep. “Been savin’ this just for me, huh?'' His wrist pushes your skirt out of the way as his hand slides toward your crotch. He finds your clit with ease, even while driving. He clearly knows what he’s doing and he could get you off like this in a minute or two, but he needs his hand back to make some turns.

You put your hand on his meaty thigh and ask “can I. . .”

“*can* you? Fuck yeah you can” He lifts his elbow, welcoming your hand to his lap.

You grab the bulge in his jeans and get a zap of need in your core. You slowly press your hand into his warm, hard package and feel the outline of his thick cock. You’re aching for him. You’re about to ask him to pull over when he puts on the blinker and see you’ve arrived at Waffle House.

“Here good?” He says as he pulls into a parking space.

“Hell yeah,” you answer.

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Cause if ya don’t like WaHo, we ain’t gonna work anyway.” You both unbuckle your seatbelts.

"Oh, here," you take your hand back as he reaches back behind the passenger seat, and your eyes glue to his huge bulge. He hands you a leather jacket, and says, “Just if ya want it.” It’s a little warm for it, but it’s a nice thought if you wanted to cover up. At WaHo, you don’t really care. That’s the magic of it. He reaches back behind the seat again and you glance at his earring. He returns with a target bag.

You peek into the bag. There’s a casual tank dress, flip flops, and . ..boy shorts. Your heart flutters that his dirty question led to such a wholesome gesture.

“You bought me clothes?”

“Yeah, coulda brought some’a Mabel’s but–”

“That could get weird”

“Yeah.”

—---

You walk in front of Jojo into the breezeway, then into the restaurant. No one bats an eye at how you’re dressed. You hold up the bag of clothes and ask, “Mind if I change ‘fore we eat?” A waitress behind the counter leans to the side to look around you, checks Jojo out and says, “get it, girl.”

“That’s what i’m talkin’ bout,” Jojo murmurs to you and gives her a wink.

Both the individual bathrooms are occupied. Joel stands with his back against the wall facing the bathrooms, so y’all are waiting out of view of the grill. You’re facing him. He grabs your ass with both hands, pulling you into him, massive erection straining his pants, yearning to get to you. His cock digs into your front. You kiss him and he kneads your butt cheeks as your mouths consume each other. He moans quietly into your mouth. His hard cock twitches against you.

He breaks the kiss and breathes heavily against your ear, then whispers “feel like i’m gonna die.”

A toilet flushes. The bathroom smells faintly of cleaning supplies, and it doesn’t look dirty. The illusion of cleanliness is enough to not think about it.

You wanna be right on top of him, but as he locks the door, you find yourself slowly taking a step backwards, watching him in anticipation, almost like you’re daring him to come after you and show you what he’s got. He looks at you darkly and prowls toward you, unbuckling his belt, lips parted, eyes dark like a stalking animal. You freeze. He unbuttons his jeans and walks until his hardness bumps into your thigh.

Then, at a faster pace, he walks you almost all the way to the sink, then grabs your butt to stop you. He hikes up your skirt so it's all the way over your ass. He grabs your ass with one hand and pulls you into him again. The strength of his erection through his exposed boxer briefs gives you another shock of arousal on top of your already desperate need. He pulls back his hips enough for his free hand to engulf your crotch. His thick middle finger presses down on the (very) damp spot in your leggings.

"Soaked for me, aren't ya?" The hand on your ass slides down and curls between your legs. His warm finger slips into one of the fishnet holes.

He uses both hands, one from the front and one from the back, to rip open the fishnets. “Fuck yeah,” he growls. The hand from the back returns to your asscheek, while the other hand remains between your legs. The side of his index finger meets your dripping seam. “Mmmmmm,” he slides his hand up and down for just a couple of seconds, then looks at the sink. “Think ya can sit up here?”

“mm. yeah, if you–”

He helps you onto the edge of the sink. You hold onto the sides and he immediately squats down with his head between your legs.

“Just fuck me,” you say, dying to have him inside you. Your walls are twitching as though your cunt is making a gimme gimme motion like a fist.

“i gotta taste ya," he mumbles as he spreads your thighs. “Sorry, just a sec.” He further rips the fishnets, exposing you to the cool air then sighs, “fuck,” as he reaches behind you to hold your ass. He whispers “just real quick,” his hot breath on your mound, before he plants his mouth on your cunt.

He licks at your entrance. “Mmmm,” he tongues and sucks your clit, then takes one hand off your ass to palm his boxer briefs.

You fist his hair, sighing, “Ohh God, I need that cock, baby. We got time for this later.” You’re physically aching to be filled.

He kisses your clit goodbye, then whispers, "god damn." He puts both hands on your thighs as he stands up. When he’s standing, he yanks his boxer briefs down and his naked cock bobs heavily, making you nearly drool. He’s shaved. It’s thick. Length-wise you might be able to take it. The girth will be a stretch.

He curls his fingers under your mesh crop top and you raise your arms as he discards it. “Fuck it, you’re changin’, right?” He tugs at your bra, and you take it off.

“Oh, fuck me,” he takes in the sight of your tits and can’t resist sucking a nipple into his mouth while palming the other.

You grab his cock. “Are you gonna put this in me tonight or nah?”

“God damn, you need it don’t ya?” He wraps an arm around you and you put your arms around his neck. He nudges you by the ass toward the edge.

“fuck just give it to me.”

He runs his swollen, mauve tip through your slick, then notches it at your entrance and plunges into you with a groan. You gasp as his girth spreads you apart. You can’t remember the last time you felt a stretch like this. But he pushes it right in. You’re so turned on, it works. You watch his cock disappear into you. You glance up at him to see his mouth hanging open with a sigh of relief as his tip nudges your cervix and makes you whole. He sucks in a deep breath as he retreats, then says “FUCK, that’s a nice cunt.”

His fingers dig into the plush flesh of your ass and he begins to fuck you. You pull up his shirt and it’s so tight that it stays where you leave it. He has a slutty little hip tattoo that says yeah. His lips latch onto yours as he buries his length in you again and again. It’s all sucking and biting and hot, humid breath as you moan against each other’s cheeks before your tongues are in each other’s mouths again. The bottom half of your face gets slobbery. He fucks you like he means it, grunting and moaning, “oh yeah.” Your bodies are dewy where your skin meets.

You wrap your legs around him. Your pelvis grinds against his and your orgasm is building. You tell him, “Don’t hold back”

“You want me to last?” He asks as he pumps in and out of you.

“In here?--ohhhh–time for that later”

“Oh, you already close, ain’t ya?” he speeds up and his chain bounces with the power of his motions. “Fuck yeah, baby, c’mere, c’,mon” His cock pistons into you. It’s even better than you imagined so many times in your pathetic excuse for a bed. Oh shit, will you really sleep together? The thought of it melts you. The thought of a real bed alone melts you, but with him, with this cock inches away, god this cock, it feels so, it’s so—A primal grunt comes from his chest. His heavy breathing and grinding against your clit have you on the edge ready to tip.

You whimper, “baby,” pinching your eyes shut.

He grips your ass harder and grinds his shaved pubic bone into you as he fucks you smooth and fast. He fucks like a porn star. “C’mon, jailbird.”

He buries his length in you even faster, then pleasure seizes your whole body and you come on his fat cock.

“Ohhhhh yeah, fuck yeah,” he breathes.

He thrusts into you a few more times, “fuck, baby,” then bottoms out and erupts. He sighs a long sigh as his warm release coats your insides.

“Mmmm,” you savor the pulse of his cock and you twitch with aftershocks. “Oh, god.” He hugs you and you rest your head on his chest while you both catch your breath. His chain feels massive on on your cheek.

Someone finally knocks on the door. He pulls out and helps you down off the sink.

“Someone in here,” he tells them. He pulls up his pants, then leans against the tile of the bathroom wall as he zips them up and fastens his belt while you change.

You thank him again for the clothes as you look in the mirror and turn around.

“Look good on ya. Guess I did alright.”

His face is flushed pink and his hair is a little messed up. He seems to notice you looking at his face and he pushes himself off the wall to look in the mirror. He rakes his hand through his hair, then scratches one side of his beard, turning away from the mirror.

–

You sit down for a late dinner. Neither of you look at the menu. Jojo orders cherry coke and a texas cheesesteak with double hashbrowns covered, smothered, and chunked. You order your favorite meal and he compliments it. Your eyes are on his forearms and tattoos. As he brings the sandwich to his mouth. God damn, how’d this fine ass man practically fall in your lap? You feel like you owe Mabel big time.

You ask, “You really go grocery shoppin’?”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles with his mouth full, nodding. “Mmm-hmm.” After he finishes chewing he washes it down with a sip of cherry coke, then adds, “but you know what i really want.” He looks at you darkly. “So tell me it’s all you can eat, baby.”

“Just for you, Jojo. . .”

-----

yeah he wants to be covered and smothered in that.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I love your passion and your comments and reblogs really motivate me. <333

----

@toxicfics for notifications, make sure your phone is set to enable push notifications from tumblr.

⚠️ Since so many people are saying tags aren't working, I may discontinue the tag list ⚠️

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #toxicanonymity ☠️#cellmate's nephew!joel #CN!Joel Miller #CN!Joel #cellmate's nephew!joel miller #jojo ☠️#finally f*cking Friday #joel x reader

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billybob598 · 1 year ago

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Teasing (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Just ignore how absolute shit this is. I told everyone I would write this, so I actually had to write it sadly. This was requested by an anon so hopefully this is what you wanted. I'm sorry for how short and terrible it is. Next fic is Sydney Lohmann x f1 reader so hopefully that will be better than this. Again any feedback good or bad is welcomed! So, please enjoy this absolute shitshow this fic is.

Word Count: 979 (Omg this made me sad)

“Y/N? Any chance we could leave this century?” Alessia calls up the stairs. You roll your eyes, continuing to straighten your hair. The sound of feet stomping against the carpet gathers your attention, Alessia wraps her arms around your waist while nuzzling her head into your neck.

“Love, if you don’t move your head I’m going to burn you,” you say gently, trying your best to move the hair straightener away from your girlfriend. All you get in response is her mumbling some incoherent words into your neck. The pout on her face makes your heart melt, but for everyone’s safety, you stand your ground.

Ten minutes later, the two of you are heading out to the bar Ella and some of your teammates had decided to meet. With the World Cup coming up soon, the Manchester United team was trying to spend as much time as possible together. It was a fact in your relationship that Alessia was the driver and you were the passenger princess. As she settles into the driver’s seat, you connected your phone to the car and decided on a playlist. For the excruciatingly long five minutes, it takes to get to the bar, you and Lessi are singing your hearts out to Adele. When your girlfriend parks the car, she rushes out over to your side and opens the car door for you.

“Ever the gentlewoman,” you say with a slight tease in your voice. She blushes as you get out.

“Y/N/N!” A booming voice startles you, but you grin widely as Tooney approaches you happily. The midfielder links your hands and pulls you into the bar, not before you grab a hold of Alessia and drag her with you. The blasting music hits you like a shit ton of bricks. You were not prepared at all for the EDM blasting at full volume. Tooney says something about getting drinks so, you and Lessi search for any teammates that are already there. A few of you guys find a booth while Tooney brings over some shots. You sit close to Lessi while handing her a drink. She smiles gratefully at you before turning her attention back to the story Millie is telling very passionately. For about an hour everyone is talking and laughing, you were even able to get Alessia to dance with you for a few songs. In Alessia's fashion, though, she tripped on both her own feet and yours multiple times. After some of the team had calmed down, the five or six of you that were sitting in the booth fell into an easy-flowing conversation. Soon, the conversation turned toward the impending World Cup. Of course, you were on the USWNT and Alessia had made the Lionesses squad. Both of you had avoided talking about the fact that you would be away from each other for around two months and that there was a chance that you’d play against each other in the final.

“So lovebirds, are you excited?” Mary Earps asks jokingly. Alessia laughs lightly.

“I’m ready, I don’t know about the US though. They better be ready to get their ass whooped,” she mocks, watching you out of the corner of her eye. To your credit, your reaction is controlled and measured, to the naked eye you don’t have a reaction, but Alessia knows you too well. The way your jaw clenches slightly and your hands closing into fists just the tiniest bit are all telltale signs that you’re pissed. Even if she didn’t know, you turn to look at her with raised eyebrows, cementing the idea that you were not pleased with your girlfriend. For the next few hours, all of the English girls continue to poke fun at your American ass. Again, to your credit, you hold your tongue and take the jibes with ease. It’s only when Katie Zelem makes a particularly harsh joke about the England v USA game back in October, that you snap.

“Man, you guys are talking a big game for a team that got knocked out by us in the last World Cup,” you retort. Your words catch everyone off guard. They all look at each other before bursting into laughter. The look of confusion on your face only making them laugh harder.

“Damn Lessi, your girl’s got some bite,” Maya Le Tissier laughs out. Alessia smiles at you, but the smile soon turns into a smirk as she thinks of a comeback.

“Your talking a big game for a team that lost three games in a row,” the English player teases. As you narrow your eyes, you realize that neither of you are going to let the other off the hook with talking trash about their national team.

“Mhmm I am, maybe ‘cause we’re 4-time world champs and you guys haven’t even made it to a final yet,” you say cheekily. While you both know it’s just fun and games, you’re determined to not let the other get the upper hand. For the rest of the night, your teammates watch in amusement at how the two of you continue to bicker. The banter being thrown around some might consider as being over the top mean, but to the two of you it’s perfectly acceptable.

That night, as you settle into bed alongside of Alessia, you sigh loudly.

“You’re going to be sighing that loudly when we destroy you in the finals,” she snickers. You sigh again, this time in annoyance.

“Seriously Less? It’s much too late for this and I’m much too tired to do this again,” you grumble, dragging one of your girlfriends arms across your waist. The blonde chuckles quietly and gently puts her face into the crook of your neck, kissing it softly.

“I’m sorry, love. You just go to sleep now, and don’t forget…the USA is going down in the World Cup.”

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso x reader #woso imagine #engwnt x reader #man u women x reader

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issatalk · 11 months ago

Text

Courage

paige bueckers x reader

fluff

prompts:

childhood friends to lovers

taking care of a drunk paige

“with her hand around my waist and all the music and lights, mannn i don’t even know where i am, but one thing i do know is that i will dance on her until i can’t move for the night” i heard the woman say as she came near my table to sip on her drink after her and paige were basically grinding on the dance floor. the place was so crowded and truthfully i don’t know if it was the alcohol or if i was just extremely jealous that paige, the paige i have had feelings for for years is letting another girl dance on her as i am sat watching the scene.

after some time of their dirty dancing and dreading eye fucking, paige came to the team table. she was messily walking over us and oof was that girl wasted, i can’t believe she got this bad “ hey can you give me another dirty shirley temple ” she told ice with a small grin in her face that made it so obvious the state she was is. that was our queue to leave, everyone in the team was tired of dancing and occasionally drinking. i myself only had some tequila lemonade so i wasn’t really tipsy or anything but some of these girls were going to need so lots of coffee and good aspirin in the morning

inês was the most stable of them all, she wasnt much of a drinker and went for light beverages. we had called an uber for some of the girls while other came in their own cars, after sending a couple of girls in each ride, aaliyah decided she would be driving. even tho it was paige’s car, she was in no state to drive it, so it went, inês, paige and i along with aaliyah in the car. me and paige went on the backseat i

as i was taking care of her just to make sure she didn’t puke in the car or do dumb shit. aaliyah turned her playlist up making this quite a party since everybody was screaming the lyrics. as some quieter songs came on paige started laughing silently, making me a bit annoyed since she was extremely talkative and touchy when she was drunk. she was constantly poking your face and laughing, i hate this part because it’s when all her hidden thruths come to light and you just never know if it is good or bad.

one time sophomore year you had taken her home after a big game win, the party was crazy, everyone cheered for her, at that point she was the party. but she’s a bit of a light weight so we constantly had to take care of her after her “fun nights”. you were laying her down in bed making sure she was cozy in her bed with enough heat and comfort from her blanket.

she was silently staring at you, once u got near to tell her good night and light off she started talking a lot. things you thought were nonsense since she was drunk, she had said that you had the most beautiful smile in the whole wide world as well along that you had the fattest ass in campus, you definitely laughed at the last one as it was unexpected but these little drunken words meant a lot to you specially since she had been your best friend since junior year of highschool and these drunken words have happened all these years . and this just went along, you never could get rid of that stupid crush you had on her in highschool which after some years turned into big feelings.

in the car paige was getting more confidence then usual, she started by slightly placing her hand on ur knee and after some time while everyone was still singing along, you feel as her hand was going further up into ur thighs, she was rubbing them at this point. she tried to get a little close to not only ur thigh but also down there. u panicked and quickly moved ur hand on top of hers moving it back up to your knee, you turned to look at her and all you could see in the minimum light of the night, were those beautiful blue eyes that made you squirm and go crazy at the tiniest contact, you saw that upturned nose that was ever so perfect and that smile that made you go crazy. finally realizing you were going to keep on suffering quietly if you never made a move.

morning comes and as extremely anxious as you are, you walked up to paige’s dorm with a coffee in hand to help her hangover after lasts night event. you knocked as kk opened up the door letting you in “girll who that coffee for? you better have 4 others in the car cause we surely need them” she said, making me laugh. i walked towards paige’s room opening the door seeing a quiet paige looking like life needs to be contemplated, she clearly had just woken up not many minutes ago, but damn she still managed d to look cute, even with a hangover.

“goodmorning p” you smiled handing her the coffee as her pearly teeth flashed a smile as she saw you “goodmorning love” that’s a new nickname… “so what’s are the plans for today? geno said practice is up until 5 so we got the whole morning” i said trying to wake her up “i think i might just stay in bed enjoying this beautiful coffee that the best person in the world just brought me” she said hoping everyone could hear her so they wouldn’t bug her “oh, well, can i stay with you for a bit?” “ yeah of course, i’m watching the new mario bros movie, so when i go back home i can make sure drew and i can talk about something he likes” it made me melt, i love how much love she had for her brother.

some hours later she fell asleep ,paige was resting in my chest as i tried to move as less as i could so i didn’t wake her up, but as it hit 2pm, amari came and yelled at her to get up. she groaned and tossed around the bed like a little girl making me laugh, she was just too adorable. yet it was time for me to tell her how i felt and if i didn’t do it now it would never happen.

still in her room i said with courage “hey paige” “yup” “ i need to confess to you that for a while i have had feelings towards you, i feel attracted by you as well as extremely grateful towards you, you have done so much for me and for that exact reason i am scared to tell, because i have no expectation on your reaction and i’m sorry if it makes it awkward between us but-“ as just like a cliché moment, the girl i died for since highschool was kissing me. it was a sweet and short kiss, i could sense a smile from both sides after we separated our foreheads from eachother. “god you don’t know how in love with i am do you? i’ve been dying to do they for years” she said in the breathiest voice, i just needed more. i kissed her again, i pushed her down on the bed as she took my waist ,pulling me closer to her so she could feel all of me. i was starting to go down to her neck but got scared as amari banged on the door again, making me separate from paige and making us get up. since that day and on i take courage in all of my decisions, knowing the consequences are fully mine, yet i’m ready to challenge them all. just for her.

thank you if you took the time to read this!! i hope you enjoyed it!!

this is slightly pazzi coded btw

#paige bueckers #wbb #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #issawritess #azzi fudd #pazzi #inês bettencourt #aaliyah edwards #kk arnold

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kingdomhate · 1 month ago

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Halloween With Them Scenarios!

Anakin Skywalker: Anakin adored Halloween. He made that quite obvious when you both started your tradition of driving around Coruscant on the hunt for particularly good houses. It plastered that grin, that signature grin on his face damn near every time. And that in turn, made you smile that radiant smile that gave him butterflies.

Tonight was the 31st, Anakin sneaking away from the Temple after sunset, meeting you in the cozy palace of your home, and you both dressed in your costumes, and grabbed your bags, starting the hunt for the goods.

"So... I was thinking.." He spoke, slowly, looking around for house lights, indicating that trick or treaters were welcome. You perk up, looking over at him. Immediately you notice his mischievous little smirk. And you're slightly skeptical of what his next words are gonna be. "Oh?" You hum in acknowledgement, wanting him to continue. "I got a challenge for you.. We go to as many houses as possible. Get the most candy. Whoever has the least loses. Has to make a playlist for the other."

You raise your eyebrow; how oddly specific. But you smirk as well. "You're on." And you both are on the move, immediately. Anakin parks the cruiser and you both hop out, trick or treating as many houses as possible, hastily moving onto the next, and the next. An hour later, you both move back to the cruiser, your bags feeling as though a sizable rock has been dumped right into each one. It was difficult to carry. You sling yours onto your lap as you climb in, so does Anakin.

As you both arrive home, you are quick to empty the contents of your labor onto the floor, as does Anakin. The candy spills out, wrappers crinkling against each other as the mountains form. He looks at yours. You look at his. You burst out laughing. He was embarrassingly lacking half of what you had. "I knew it! About time I finally won a contest." Anakin scoffed and looked away. Watching as your eyes gleamed with delight at your little victory......

...Little did you know, Anakin gave half of his candy to the kids he had passed on his hunt.

Han Solo: Now he rarely, and I mean rarely found himself going out on this day, especially with the orders he was running with the Millenium Falcon. He found himself too busy to find the time to go out. But, you changed that.

"C'mon, it'll be fun!" You say in protest as he tells you no, for the 5th time that night. He shrugged you off as you clung to his arm. "God, Y\N, persistent, aren't ya?" He teases and you sigh. "Han Solo, you can take a few hours out of that god awful schedule of yours for me. Can't you?" You say those two last words quite loudly, expressing without words how insistent you were about this. Eventually, he gave up.

"Sure, princess. Whatever you makes you happy." He says, flashing you a grin, despite his seemingly dismissive words. As you exclaim in victory, he grabs you by your waist, and brings you in for a passionate kiss. Fiery. And you find yourself melting, before he pulls away. "On one condition.." You scowl at him, and roll your eyes. "Whaaaaat." He grins. "I'm not dressing up. And for every piece of candy I get... equals two kisses." You playfully shove him. "Aren't you just the cutest little negotiator." He laughs and walks beside you into your guys' makeshift bedroom, where you have your costume and respective bags picked out. "So.. what do ya say, sunshine?" He says, poking your head. "Yes. Now come on, jerkface." He brings his hand to the small of your back and led you both out and onto the streets.

You're in for a lot of kisses by the end of it, let me tell you...

Obi-Wan Kenobi: One of his favorite past times during spooky season, besides pumpkin spice lattes, was carving pumpkins. He was bundled up in a toasty coat, scarf and gloves, as he held your hand, looking over the many, many orange pumpkins, trying to decipher which ones were good and chunky enough to be waltzed back home. "Obi, come on. By the time you're done picking one, it'll already be summer." You exaggerate, feeling the chilly breeze of autumn overcome you in waves, leading to light goosebumps over your skin.

"Yes, yes, just one more second, my love." He said, waving you off with his free hand. You sigh, looking around at the decorations the market has, dropping your hand to your side as you gaze at what is in season.

You were looking at wreaths as Obi-Wan found you. "Here." He said proudly, as you gazed at two plump pumpkins. You smile. "Good job." You peck his cheek before gathering some candles and the carving kit. As you check out and arrive at home, Obi-Wan has gone into full concentration mode.

You follow after him, grabbing the design you both agreed on and beginning to carve and gut your pumpkin. It was an oddly therapeutic but at times frustrating process. Somehow, it all managed to come together, no matter how many trials and errors it produced. You wipe your forehead with the clean part of your arm, and crack your back, Obi-Wan smiled as he went to clean his hands and take off his apron. You again followed.

"Did you grab the lights?" He inquired, drying his hands off. You nod, taking a square or two of the paper towels. "They're on the table." You nod in the direction of the candles and he grabs them, flickering the lighter on and bringing awakening to the wicks as he settled them cozily into the center of the pumpkins. He balanced his as you both walked outside, placing them where you thought they looked best.

It always made Obi-Wan happy, and it was something that kept you both busy. The results were always worth the time and effort. And Obi-Wan certainly thought so.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #han solo #han solo x reader #fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #hope you enjoy #halloween

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mikufigureoftheday · 4 months ago

Note

What would you recommend for someone totally new to Miku/vocaloids? Are there any good songs or artists to start with?

Firstly, welcome to the team! I hope you enjoy your stay (´ω｀★)

When it comes to song reccs, I have a hard time because I never know/can guess anyone's tastes because mine is bad lol

So, I'm always team "poke around until I find something I like" and the best way to do this is always via user-made playlists! All major music streaming services and Youtube let you see them, and they let you see what other people like the most while letting you get a good variety if they're big enough

Ex: this 5k video Youtube playlist full of straight BANGERS

Hopefully, this helps you out a bit, and you find some fun jams to listen to (⌒▽⌒)☆

#asks #not a figure

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morganbritton132 · 2 years ago

Text

Eddie starts a live stream by sticking his head into the living room where Steve is looking for something to watch on Netflix like, “Do you want to go on an adventure with me?”

Steve is reluctant to go because Eddie won’t give him any details about it but ultimately gives in because well, it’s Eddie. His reservations return when he gets in the car and Robin is sitting in the backseat, and when he asks about it Eddie just says that she’s there for ‘damage control.’

Like, “What the hell does that mean? She’s not calming and have you seen her walk? She is the damage.”

“Hey!”

“Rob, I love you but that’s true. She’s here for emotional support.”

“What does that mean?!”

Eddie tells Steve to trust him and Steve gives in because well, again. It’s Eddie.

Steve would accompany Eddie to Mount Sauron, or whatever, any day of the week. So he puts his seatbelt on and gears up the playlist they made for when it’s the three of them in the car, and they drive.

Eddie explains to Steve and to his live-stream that he’s doing an impromptu meet-and-greet at a mystery location. He’ll drop some hints over to the course of the drive and if it’s your area and you can figure it out, come out and meet him.

Steve thinks that’s actually a pretty cool idea and thinks it’s great that Eddie is interacting with his fans again after all the death-threat drama. He pokes Eddie in the arm and tells him, “That’s really cool, babe.”

Eddie flashes him a grin that doesn’t quite gel with the nervous tapping of his fingers, but that thought slips from Steve’s mind when Robin punches him in the arm and points, “Look, cows.”

Steve smiles, “I’m naming that one Kirby.”

“It looks more like a Janine.”

Other highlights of the road trip live stream include the three of them absentmindedly singing along to Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls, the three of them singing passionately to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, rest-stop stopping so Ozzy can get out and run around for a bit, and Steve outlawing Punch Buggy after Robin and Eddie punched him in the arm three times in a row.

The whole time Eddie keeps dropping vague little hints like ‘taking it back to where it all begins’ and ‘we’re treading old territory’ and Steve initially thinks that they’re heading to the bar in Indianapolis where Corroded Coffin was discovered. So maybe he didn’t really pay attention to the rest of Eddie’s clues or maybe he’s really bad at connecting the dots because he feels winded when they come upon the Welcome to Hawkins sign.

He feels increasingly more winded when they turn down streets that have changed a lot but feel the same. He doesn’t notice how the car went quite or how Eddie keeps sneaking glances at him, just the streets they’re taking. Every turn they take that he’d taken a hundred times before.

“Eddie,” Steve breaths out like he’s just taped the pieces to a treasure map together and discovered ‘X’ was home all along. He inhales in time with the click of the blinker as they turn onto Loch Nora, “What’s going on?”

Eddie doesn’t actually answer that question until after they’re parked outside of Steve’s childhood home. He doesn’t answer until after he gets out of the car and circles the other side, and he holds Steve in his arms.

He says, “You told me that you will never work through this thing with your mom until you understand why she’s like this. If she won’t come to you, babe, then you gotta go to her. You gotta do this to get peace.”

Steve is always shaking his head no because he can’t. He can’t just walk up to her door after twenty years and asks her for an explanation. He doesn’t even know how he’d – he doesn’t –

Eddie tilts Steve’s head up until they’re eye to eye and he tells him like he can hear all those half-formed questions in his head, “You are Steve fucking Harrington, baby. You fight monsters and you save the world, and you are brave beyond words. There are worst things out there than this, so you got this. You can do this.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” Eddie continues. “But it has never been easy, and… This is it, babe. This is the last battle you got to fight and then we leave it all behind. I’m sorry I tricked you, but you wouldn’t have come if I told you.”

Steve takes a deep breath and then another, and maybe a third. He shakes the nerves out of his fingers and he hugs Eddie as tight as he can without hurting him, and he says because he knows he’ll mean it later, “Thank you.”

“Take Oz with you,” Eddie tells him and kisses him in broad daylight like he was never able to do on this street. He tells Steve that his meet-and-greet is at high school, and that Robin’s going to stay here with the car, that they’re going to Hopper and Joyce’s after, “If you need anything, call me immediately.”

Eddie stays with Robin to watch Steve walk up to the door and knock. He doesn’t move an inch until the door is answered, and then he smiles at Robin, “That went better than expected, right?”

Robin asks, “Did you end your live stream?”

“Shit.”

#AU where we live in a world where you could live stream a three hour drive successfully #I don’t actually have any interest in exploring the conversation Steve is going to have with his mom #I think it’s going to require a lot more nuance and time than I got to give but I wanted to get Steve there #Eddie does it in the only way he knows how: elaborately #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley

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tiny-tort · 2 months ago

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thinking about teen regressor Ford (~16-18 age range)

I feel like usually he'd be like his typical major league nerdy self, just a little more anxious and soft spoken, like how he seemed to be as an actual teen.

Two of his biggest tells are being quite a bit less boisterous than he is when big, and sticking to Stan like the two got super glue stuck to them.

I imagine he'd opt to do that or just read alone somewhere. He wouldn't like being around that many people when regressed other than Stan, Dipper, and Mabel. Even then he's worried about being around the kids because, being an anxious teen, he's worried he'll mess something up and they'll think he's lame or something (which could never happen but that doesn't stop his brain from being a butt).

He doesn't really need to be looked after since he's capable of doing that himself when regressed, but that doesn't stop Stan from coddling his brother despite this. He'll make tons of jokes about having a "little brother," poke fun at him and ruffle his hair and stuff. Half the time, before either of them even realize it, Stan's probably regressed too, and they get up to some 16-18 year old boy shenanigans (probably pulling pranks on each other and vandalizing abandoned buildings and stuff. Stan tends to be the instigator of both of these but Ford has fun with it too).

And that's how he'd usually be. However, I'd also like to imagine he's sometimes an edgy teen regressor, too >:] (headcanons for that under the cut)

He'd learn what being emo is from like Mabel or Wendy and subconsciously act like that when regressed at times. He didn't really realize he did it at first, but when he does he just kinda rolls with it.

It doesn't happen often, but sometimes he just feels the need to be angsty and upset, so he expresses that by being an emo teen.

Y'know the black turtleneck he has when he first comes through the portal? He just HAS to wear it when regressed and edgy, without fail, it's like the only tell anyone gets to know for sure that he's an angsty teen for the time being.

He also has a pair of jeans that had gotten ripped from previous explorations/hikes/creature hunts/etc. that he wears because it just feels Right. He'll wear those when not regressed too, though, so it's hard to tell if he's regressed from the pants alone.

If Stan's regressed with him then edgy Ford is much more likely to join in on being troublesome and a menace.

Mabel makes a playlist of like emo, alt, indie songs with him that he listens to. Maybe she's just starting to enter her own edgy teen phase, and they're just kinda angsty together. They make kandi and stuff together and have a fun time jamming out to MCR and Set It Off and it's just a fun time for both of them.

Ford usually uses these edgy regressor moments to be angry though, so he likes to be alone more often than not. He'll listen to angry music and scream into his pillow and kick his bed and just generally be upset about various parts of his past. Sometimes he'll accidentally ram his hand against the wall or break something sharp, and that's usually a sign to himself to start calming down. Stan tends to give him space, but at times like these he's sure to check in on him to make sure he hasn't hurt himself. If he has, he'll help bandage him up or clean off his hand or whatever he needs, and comfort him as best he can. Sometimes Ford and Stan will just hug and let each other cry for a while.

They're always there for each other, regressed or not. :]

#gravity falls agere #age regression #agere #sfw agere #teen regression #emo agere #fandom agere #gravity falls #gravity falls ford pines #gravity falls stan pines #tiny tort talks

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bettyfrommars · 1 year ago

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Death Becomes Us

vampire!Eddie Munson x supernatural!Reader

Series Masterlist

🚨: 18+Only, mature themes, blood, enemies to lovers, mention of a rough past, brief homelessness, eventual smut. Reader has visible scars, and an important history to go with them, but the specific skin tone is not mentioned. The Upside Down exists but is also very different from how it was in the show. Bob Newby is alive and well. Reader and Eddie are around 30.

Word count: 4.4k

Playlist: here

A/N: I came up with this during another True Blood re-watch, but as I started writing, it morphed into something else. If you are a fan of the show, part 2 will start to feel more familiar to you. I'm still deeply involved writing a different series atm, but have been dipping into this piece as I sink further into the sea of insanity. I'm not entirely sure how far I will take it🫶 Idk, it's just something fun and random. Hope you enjoy xoxo

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Death Becomes Us - Part 1 - Dead Again

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Daytime in Hawkins was safe; that is when the living walked the streets. You were turned down by several different places while looking for work, including the gas n’ sip, the hardware store, and Family Video. You were just about to head back when you saw the blue neon on the side of the next building, bricks painted black, windows heavily curtained. The sign said “Main Vein” in cursive blue letters and there was a red and white sign hanging underneath that read: HELP WANTED.

Because of the floor to ceiling, black out curtains, you couldn’t get a glimpse inside, and when you tried the door, it was locked. You noticed there was more written in cursive on the Help Wanted sign: Humans Needed for Day Help, and then a phone number.

You bent your knee to make a table for yourself and wrote the number on the back of the application for Family Video in blue ink, along with the name of who to ask for: Bob.

You took one last look at the place before returning to your ride that was parked on the other side of the street. It was the 1976 Cadillac hearse that your father drove for 15 years as a funeral director before he passed on, and then he had one last ride in it.

Your hearse was your house at the moment. You’d made a cozy little bed for yourself on top of a bedroll in the back where 2 decades of corpses had been escorted to their final resting place.

You’d been parking (living) at the Love’s Truck Stop that was just off the freeway about ten miles from Hawkins. They had showers there and you could brush your teeth, and splurge on a muffin and coffee in the morning. You should’ve moved on by now, but for some reason, you couldn’t. Hawkins had a hold on you unlike any town you’d happened upon in the past few months. Maybe it was all the death.

You’d called Bob at Main Vein from one of the payphones inside Love’s earlier and he told you in a chipper voice to come by the next day at a designated time after sunset, and that he was looking forward to meeting you.

Propped up behind the single bench seat in the hearse, you heard the motorcycles before you saw them. The windows around the coffin hold of the hearse were covered to ensure your privacy, but then their headlights lashed through the cracks in the black velvet curtains as they passed, shooting bright shafts of light across your face.

You poked an eye out to see the same vampire boys on motorcycles that you’d witnessed the night before. They always raced down from the hills, headed for the bridge and into town, long hair and black coats flying out behind them, howling and calling out to each other.

You drank the rest of your Yoohoo, hoped it wouldn’t make you have to pee before morning, and tucked yourself way down in the blankets, covering your head.

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Sure, you were one of the living, but the sun had never agreed with you. You shielded your face with your arms, as if it were raining, as you dashed in and out of your hearse to do some errands the next day, including stopping by to check out a trailer for rent in an area that was mostly vampires. The human manager on duty was a woman in a floral muumuu and iridescent pink lipstick; her name was Dolores. She looked you up and down with unapologetic judgment.

“You’re not from around here, I take it.” She put her hands on her slight hips and exposed her pearly dentures to you in a bit of a grimace, squinting at the sun, her short, orange hair in perfect curls from her rollers..

You bit the inside of your cheek and told her you’d only been in town a few days.

She paused to indulge in a painfully drawn-out appraisal of the visible scars on your body. Thick, pronounced, railroad scars around your wrists that you tried to cover up with leather cuffs and bracelets, one that came up from the middle of your chest and peeked out from the collar of your shirt, one that looked like a long lash from the side of your mouth to your ear. Your left eyebrow was also cut in half by a line of scar tissue. There were other scars that you always kept covered up, and would never let anyone see: you were the freak of the human world, and you didn’t have an excuse to hide like the vampires did, but you secretly envied them for it.

“You’re not a damn tourist, are you?” Dolores asked, gesturing to the Polaroid camera you had in your hand.

“This? No,” you assured her. “I don’t really care for vampires.”

This was a relief for Dolores, because ever since families had started flocking to Hawkins to get a glimpse of the bloodsuckers, the whole town had become a nuthouse of folks wanting a tug on Satan’s proverbial ball sack. People wanting to rent the vacant trailer just so they could see the Fangers come out at night and smoke their cigarettes and fornicate with each other?? Didn’t these idiots know that they killed humans for fun? Drank their blood? All of it was an abomination and a sin against god and Dolores was one of the most god-fearing woman in the county.

She fumbled with her keys as the two of you came up onto the porch of the rental. The exterior was yellow, which was probably your least favorite color, and the porch was wobbly, bare wood, and the first step was cracked like someone had stomped on it a little too hard. There was a small, round metal table with two metal camp chairs with a used ashtray sitting in the middle.

“The ad mentioned that the rental is furnished?” You wanted to confirm because you had no furniture of your own and that particular detail was a huge selling point. Otherwise, you were doing just fine in the hearse, even if the coffin rollers stuck in your back at night.

Dolores nodded as she turned the knob and pushed the door open. “Previous resident couldn’t take it all with him when he moved up to Heaven to be with Jesus, so you’ve got a sofa, kitchen table set, TV, microwave,” she went over to stand by the pea green, formica island that jutted out as a divider between the living room and kitchen, opening her palms to the sky. “Gas stove, baseboard heat. Standing shower only, no bathtub.” There was a large velvet painting of geese in flight over a pond above the wagon wheel design, orange and brown couch.

You followed her hand gesture down the narrow hallway. “Plenty of storage space. Brand new toilet, just had it installed. First months rent plus $100 deposit, $25 deposit for each pet. Garbage and cable included. Rent is due on the 5th of every month, no exceptions.” She came in close to say the next part, whispering it, covering her mouth. “Might want to turn the mattress over before you sleep it, though. Poor thing passed away in there and it was a week before anyone realized.”

The unpleasant odor hiding under a mask of Glade room freshener you’d been trying to identify was suddenly explained. You could also hear flies buzzing down the hall.

Dolores stepped up to pull back one of the brown curtains of the front window, exposing the glorious expanse of the sparse, dead grass that separated you from your neighbors. “It’s quiet during the day, you won’t hear a peep, but I advise you to lock your doors at night and don’t go out unless it’s absolutely necessary,” she turned to make serious eye contact with you. “Or unless you’ve got some kind of death wish.”

You came over to look out of the window as well, taking note of a garden gnome statue flipping the middle finger on the weathered porch steps across from yours. “I thought vampires and humans were successfully co-existing for the most part since we offered them asylum from the Upside Down? It made worldwide news. With the invention of synthetic blood substitutes, I heard it’s been going fairly well, considering.” You could feel Dolores frowning at you, upset that you didn’t want to engage in her rhetoric. You cleared your throat. “Like I said, I don’t care for them myself. I'm sure there are a few bad apples who ruin it for everyone."

Dolores wiped her face of any emotion. “Those bad apples you speak of? Well, you’re in luck, hunny, because they’re all right here in this trailer park.”

You lifted the Polaroid camera to your eye from where it hung around your neck, and snapped a photo of the vulgar gnome on your neighbors porch before you followed Dolores to the office to sign paper work.

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You got out of of your hearse in front of Main Vein just as the sun set, tall trees tucked cozily in the hazy purple sky, and there was an immediate shuffling of feet, opening of windows, and mumbling of voices all around the town as humans locked their doors and the dead were rising.

You were about to touch the metal handle on the curtained, glass door to Main Vein, when someone pushed it open from the inside, startling you.

A stout, cute man appeared with sparkling, eager eyes, and rosy apple cheeks. His skin flushed with the vibrant color of someone who was alive, just as he flashed a mouth of vampire teeth.

“Don’t vorry,” he said in an attempt at a Hungarian accent. “I von’t suck your blahhhd,” and then the plastic white teeth in his mouth slipped and he caught them in his hand, sucking back a line of saliva, smiling at you, chuckling at his own joke, skin crinkling around his eyes.

You were too confused to speak, your mouth moving like a fish out of water, hand paused in the air.

“I’m just kidding, it’s a joke,” he said, holding up the teeth in his hand to assure you they weren’t real as he held the door open. He had on a plaid sweater vest over a white shirt and trousers. “I’m not a vampire. But a lot of my friends are. Come, come, let’s get you some tea or something. Do you like sweet tea? I just made some. Is that your car out there? That’s amazing!”

You didn’t get a chance to introduce yourself as you shuffled in, smiling and nodding.

The inside of Main Vein looked like a hip dive right out of a movie: exposed brick on one wall, dotted in artwork, a long bar on the opposite side that appeared to serve beer, wine, and cocktails, classic, original wood floor, and a small area toward the back where some microphones and instruments were set up. The blue neon repeating the name Main Vein above an open space behind the bar where the kitchen was.

“Are you musical?” The man you assumed was Bob asked over his shoulder as he gestured for you to take a seat at a table where it looked like he’d been jotting things down in a spiral notebook.

“I sing sometimes,” you cleared your throat. “In the shower, mostly.”

Bob Newby laughed so hard he threw his head back. “Oh, you’ve got a sense of humor, I like it. We need more of that around here. Don’t we, Argyle?”

You hadn’t noticed him at first, but on a stool behind the bar, a tall guy with long, straight black hair sat a bit hunched over, engrossed in a celebrity magazine.

“Totally, man,” Argyle agreed, but then he looked up. “Wait, what was the question?”

“That’s Argyle, he really is a vampire. He lives upstairs. He’s also the best bartender in town,” Bob moved his hand between the two of you. “Argyle, this is---”

You told them your name.

“Rad,” Argyle said, hoping from the stool, flapping his magazine down on the counter, squinting across the bar to see you better in the dim, blue light. “It will be nice for Bob-a-roonie to have another human around. I like your scars, they’re sick.”

You hadn’t even been interviewed yet, let alone officially hired, so you weren’t quite sure how to respond, but you nodded at what was intended as a compliment.

Bob adjusted himself in the seat across from you, and you asked if he preferred to be called Bob or Bob-a-roonie, to which he responded: “You can call me anything you want, just as long as it’s not late for dinner.”

When Argyle brought over two glasses of sweet tea, his sharp fangs shot out when he winked at you, and you weren’t sure if it was a threat or something flirtatious. One thing unnerving about vampires was how the irises of their eyes went completely black when their fangs came out; that was something that would take you a while to get used to. You’d heard about the phenomenon, but in person it was particularly jarring.

Bob asked you a few standards, polite questions, but then the curiosity was killing you, and you had to ask: “What type of food do you serve? I thought vampires only subsided on blood?”

Bob smiled and wagged his finger at you. “I knew you were a smart one. You ask good questions!”

He came forward in his seat, excited. “This place,” he gestured around the building. “Is about to be one of the first crossover Human/Vampire establishments in the area. I asked myself one night, I said Bob, what is missing in Hawkins? And then I went to make plans with my girlfriend, who just happens to be a vampire, and there was nowhere we could go out on a date together where the menu accommodated both of us.”

Okay, you could see where this was going.

“So, here we have it,” He sat back, giving himself a bit of double chin as he smiled. “Our menu offers a selection of blood substitutes like Fang Tang and LifeForce, as well as some ethically sourced blood from local donors, and then we have a full bar and an appetizer menu. We’ll have an open mic night, maybe a bingo night. Vampires and humans having a laugh together. It’s perfect, right?”

Your eyes didn’t know where to settle as you took in the information, imagining vampires on dates with humans, and human/vampire hybrid families all clinking silverware and slurping their meals like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was a scenario you’d never imagined or heard of before, but hey, if Bob was excited about it, well, then, you were excited about it too.

“It’s great,” you cleared your throat, taking a sip of tea. “When do you plan to open?”

Argyle heard your question from behind the bar and he snorted a laugh, flipping the page on his magazine.

“Well, we are open, technically. We’ve been open for a week,” he stuttered but then gave an approving sniff. “but new concepts like this take time to catch on.”

“Plus,” Bob continued, eyebrow raised. “That’s where you come in. I want to start opening earlier on the weekends, see if we can get a bit more human traffic in to try out our happy hour menu that Argyle worked so hard on. What does your availability look like?”

“Oh, I’d be happy to work whenever you need me,” you assured him. “I don’t have any restrictions.”

“What about kids? No family?” He asked it innocently enough, but still it put a lump in your throat for some reason. You were almost 30, and you weren’t falling in line with the standard human breeding ritual, so it made people curious.

You lowered your eyes as your index finger started to work at a piece of skin on your thumb. “Nope, just me.”

“I’m sorry,” Bob’s brow creased. “I didn’t mean for it to sound…I just wanted to know if you could work weekends, that’s all.” He exhaled a breath, slapped his hand to his thigh, and then asked you when you could start.

You were on the verge of telling him you could start immediately when the door to the outside opened, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Argyle’s face light up at the sight of whoever it was.

“Yo, Eddie, man, what’s going on, my dude?”

“Not much,” a deep voice muttered as you peeked over your shoulder to see who it was, trying not to twist around fast and make it obvious.

But it was still obvious, and his eyes snapped to yours as he stood in the doorway, hesitating with his toes at the threshold, holding the door open with his body.

The guy called Eddie was at least 6’3” with a strong, but thin build, long wavy dark hair passed his shoulders and across his forehead. There was a tattoo along the side of his neck, and on the backs of his hands, while the rest of him was in all black: boots, jeans, leather motorcycled jacket, and a tattered Type O Negative shirt underneath with ragged edges around the neckline where the collar had been ripped out. His skin was not chalk white, more like vanilla ice cream, and his plump lips were somehow pink.

Eddie was a vampire.

“Come on in, Eddie,” Bob swung his hand over his head, gesturing for him to enter. “Fang Tang cocktails are half off until midnight.”

At Bob’s formal invitation, Eddie stepped into the space, and made his way over to the bar to straddle a stool and talk with Argyle.

“What do you think?” Bob’s voice brought you back to reality.

“Sorry?” You swallowed awkwardly as you turned back to him.

“Tomorrow? Can you start tomorrow?”

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As you parked your hearse at an angle next to the trailer, you took notice of how changed the scene was from earlier that day. Every single curtain in the 10 or 12 trailers were open, exposing vampire lives being lived, television being watched, couples kissing, and there was a bonfire in the middle of the courtyard. A few heads atop dark shadow figures turned at the beam of your headlights before you flicked them off.

You were safe in your rental from vampires, you knew this, and it had been confirmed by Eddie pausing at the door of Main Vein earlier.

They had to be invited in.

But, you were fair game out in the open, so lingering there after you slammed the hearse door was possibly, as Dolores suggested, a death wish.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe you didn’t care anymore.

You were cautious not to land your foot on the broken stair as you made it up to the porch and put your new key in the lock. All around you floated the soft existence of a summer evening: crickets and frogs sounding their alarms while the incense of charcoal briquettes filled the air and the occasional tipsy laugh cackled in the distance. Bottle rockets zoomed off at a shrill speed and then exploded into tiny gold bursts in the sky.

A few minutes later, you stood staring at the dark red and yellow stain on the mattress in the wood-paneled bedroom of your trailer while you ate a few salted peanuts from a jar, deciding in that moment you’d rather sleep on the sofa for a night than do the work of scrubbing it, turning it over, and dressing it with new linens. You were too exhausted for that shit.

You washed your face and unpacked a few things, but that was the extent of your energy. You decided it was time for a beer on the porch before bed, and that is what you went out to do.

To your delight, there was a black and white cat walking the plank of your porch railing. Not much older than a teenager, with handsome yellow eyes. You held your beer in one hand while you stroked her from head to toe with the other, grinning and cooing as she bucked against your touch and purred. Your porch light was broken, but the glow from inside your trailer lit the expanse of her long whiskers.

“Dio,” a deep voice said from somewhere in the darkness, startling you.

You stepped back, closer to the door of your trailer, eyes adjusting to the outline of a silhouette at the bottom of your stairs.

Vampire Eddie flicked his lighter, and you caught his face in the flame, just long enough for him to ignite the end of his cigarette before it was dark again. His eyes lifted to meet yours at the last second before he fell into shadows again.

“Her name is Dio,” he repeated, introducing his cat. “She doesn’t like anyone but me.”

As he said it, the Dio in question sprang down from the beam to circle your legs, purring, rubbing her face on you. “Well, I don’t know about that,” you started. “She looks like she---”

“What are you doing here?” Eddie’s voice interrupted.

You glanced around, wondering if someone else had walked up.

“You don’t belong here,” he continued talking to you, specifically. You watched the cherry of his smoke light up as he inhaled, and then a plume of white smoke on the exhale, like you were having a conversation with The Invisible Man.

You leaned your shoulder against the railing and laced your fingers around your beer. “Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t belong here,” you countered, meeting his eyes as best you could in the darkness, tension sparking like electricity in the space between. “This is my porch.”

Eddie scoffed, flicking ash to the ground. “You have no idea what you’ve stumbled onto here, Princess.”

You wandered over to close the distance between the two of you, down the three rickety stairs to the dead grass, as another bottle rocket fizzed like pop rocks overhead.

Eddie stood his ground, even though it was insane Human behavior to be so casual with a vampire like that. Did you have a wooden stake you were going to try and drive through his heart? That was one of the only myths that held true for slaying his kind: wood and silver and sunlight; the trinity of vanquishing. Holy water was a joke, he could drink that all day long, and crosses were everywhere in his home décor.

There you stood, within arms reach of a supernatural killer. He could rip your throat out in the time it took for you to steal your next breath, but instead, he shifted his mouth to exhale his smoke to the side so it wouldn’t go in your face.

His eyes never left yours.

Chocolate brown peepers, rimmed in long, dark lashes; you could see the fine details of his face now that you were closer. You waited for his irises to go full black as Argyle’s had done when his fangs came out, but Eddie only parted his lips as the muscles of his throat jerked in a reflexive swallow as you matched the intensity of his eye contact. You intrigued him in a way that no one had in a very long time.

“So, what do you want?” You asked, point blank.

He used the hand holding his cigarette to jerk his thumb over his shoulder. “Dio and I live here,” he said, referring to the trailer with the vulgar gnome on the steps. “I’m just having a smoke before I go inside. If that’s alright with you?”

“Oh,” you felt a bit foolish, but how were you supposed to know? Earlier, you’d noticed an old van parked in his spot next to the trailer, but now there was a black BMW there, and you weren’t a car expert, but it appeared to be one of the newer models.

“Whose car is that?” You asked with a jerk of your chin. There was a better way you could’ve asked it, but that is just what slipped out of your mouth in the moment.

Eddie turned his head to stare at the BMW for a blink, cigarette secured between his lips. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he told you with a squint.

You regretted ever trying to make conversation. “Great, well, enjoy your evening. Or the start to your day. Whatever the hell it is,” and then you stuffed one hand in your pocket and spun on your heel.

His heightened reflexes had a hold of your arm in a flash to catch you and stop you. His touch was icy on the crook of your elbow, and when you spun around, you regarded him with eyeballs that were milk white, void of iris or pupil. “What the hell…” he hissed under his breath, fascinated. But then you blinked, and your eyes were back to their natural state, and it made him question what he’d just seen.

He noticed your scent was different too, come to think of it. You smelled human, but there was also something else mixed in with your tissues, swimming in your bloodstream. It hinted to rain and static and firework sparks.

“What are you?” He called from the bottom of the steps as you booked it up the stairs and across the porch.

With your hand on the doorknob to your trailer, you responded, “don’t worry about it,” calmly, without looking back, and then you fumbled the door shut behind you and locked it, frantically, as if you were being chased.

“What are you?” His question repeated in your head, as you worked fast to make sure all of the curtains were closed. You didn’t want anyone to see you. You stopped in the hallway and put your face in your hands, trying to catch your breath, trying to figure out why that question had bothered you so much; it’s not as if you’d hadn’t been asked it a millions times before. Why did he bother you so much? He was just an ordinary vampire for fucks sake, you demanded that you get a hold of yourself.

Absently, your fingertips traced the ridge of the long scar across your cheek, and you prayed to whichever deity was listening that any interaction with your neighbor Vampire Eddie from there on out would be minimal.

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Part 2: When Doves Cry

#eddiemunsonseries #eddiemunson #eddie munson fic #vampire eddie au #vampire eddie x reader #fem reader #true blood au #90s au

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