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gingerkunoichii · 1 month ago

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☆ Yandere Naruto Men and their Obsession with You ☆

MASTERLIST Characters: Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha, Obito Uchiha.

Warnings: abusive relationships, control, emotional manipulation, lovebombing, obsessive crazy love, isolation, intense jealousy, violence, almost physical abuse.

His Loving Obsession • Naruto isn’t just obsessed—he’s everywhere. His sunshine demeanour means no one questions it when he’s constantly by your side, always checking in, always making sure you’re okay. But behind the smiles and laughter, there’s something darker—a need so strong it borders on suffocation. Every time you smile at someone else, every time you talk about your plans without him, his stomach twists, and that friendly grin becomes just a little tighter. • Naruto doesn’t just love you—he worships you. He remembers every little thing about you, from your favourite snack to the way you like your coffee. He’ll show up with small surprises—your favorite candy, a new book you mentioned in passing, a blanket because he noticed you shivering the other day. He’s always thinking about you, always looking for ways to make you smile. • Naruto is a master at making you feel guilty without ever outright saying it. If you spend time with someone else, his expression falls just enough to make your chest ache. “Do you really think they care about you the way I do?” There’s no malice in his voice, only a quiet vulnerability that makes your chest ache. He’s not trying to control you (or so it seems)—he just can’t bear the thought of losing you to someone who doesn’t love you as deeply as he does.

• His jealousy is weirdly explosive. If someone flirts with you, his entire demeanour shifts. The laughter stops, his voice drops, and his eyes harden. It's like he's a whole different person. He’s quick to insert himself between you and the “threat,” acting like the person speaking to you is some sort of strange pervert, making it awkward for everyone.

• Naruto’s love becomes all-consuming. His hugs are tight, his hands always on you—your waist, your arm, the small of your back. He needs the reassurance of your presence, needs to feel your warmth under his fingers. His kisses are soft but desperate, like he’s trying to pour all his feelings into every movement, whispering against your lips, “No one can take you from me, Y/N.” You're so bombarded by him that you have no space to ever question it.

His Toxic Obsession

• Shikamaru doesn’t just watch you—he studies you. Every word you say, every nervous habit, every glance you throw at someone else—it’s all meticulously catalogued in his mind. He knows you better than you know yourself, and he uses that knowledge like a weapon. When he speaks to you, it’s with a precision that leaves you reeling and self-doubting, his words cutting straight to the heart of your insecurities and desires. • He isn’t loud or obvious when he cuts people out of your life. He does it quietly, methodically, in ways you don’t notice until it’s too late. Maybe he “accidentally” forgets to tell you about a group hangout or makes plans that conveniently overlap with your commitments to others. Before you realize it, he’s the only constant in your life, the only person you can turn to. “See? It’s just us now. It’s easier this way.” • Shikamaru doesn’t need to raise his voice to control you. His calm, measured tone is enough to make you second-guess everything. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Y/N? I mean, do what you want, but…” His words always trail off, leaving you to fill in the blanks. And when you do change your mind, he’s there with a lazy smirk, like he knew you would all along.

• When Shikamaru finally confesses, it’s not a plea—it’s a statement. “I’ve been patient with you. I’ve let you figure things out on your own, but it’s time you see what’s obvious.” His voice is low, steady, leaving no room for argument, your self-worth is so battered down from everything he's done you actually believe him, actually want to be with him.

• Shikamaru’s love is suffocating, an intricate web of manipulation and control that feels impossible to escape. But beneath the darkness, there’s an unsettling tenderness—a quiet devotion that makes you hesitate. “I only do this because I love you,” he says, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. And in those moments, you wonder if he truly believes it. If maybe, somehow, he’s convinced himself that this twisted, obsessive love is what you need.

His Unrelenting Obsession

• Sasuke’s fixation is nothing short of paralyzing. His eyes follow you everywhere, dark and unblinking, like he’s dissecting you piece by piece. It’s suffocating, the way he can hold you in place with just a look, his intensity seeping into every interaction until it feels like there’s nowhere to hide. He had never been so entranced by someone or something before you. • Sasuke wouldn’t hesitate to dismantle anything—or anyone—that threatens his control. A co-worker who’s too friendly? Suddenly, they’re fired over a baseless rumour. A friend who tries to intervene? They start receiving anonymous threats. It’s never loud or messy; it’s surgical, precise. He’s a ghost in the machine, orchestrating your isolation with a chilling efficiency that leaves you wondering if you’re imagining it when he acts the same as he always does - cool and detached. • Sasuke would make you dependent on him without you even realizing it. He’d insert himself into every aspect of your life—your confidant, your protector, your only constant. When things fall apart (because he made sure they would), he’s the one picking up the pieces, whispering, “You don’t need anyone else. I’ll take care of you.” And in your weakest moments, it feels like the truth. • If you ever try to leave him, Sasuke’s calm exterior would shatter. He wouldn’t yell or beg—he’d act. Your phone? Smashed. Your keys? Gone. Every avenue of escape meticulously closed off until the only person you can turn to is him. His voice would drop to a dangerous whisper: “Everyone has left me. You don't get to do that, Y/N.” And when he says it, it feels like a vow—a terrifying, irreversible truth. • Beneath the darkness, there’s a twisted form of love—a desperate, all-consuming need to keep you safe, to keep you his. Sasuke genuinely believes that what he’s doing is for your own good, that no one else could possibly love you the way he does. And in his mind, it’s not obsession—it’s destiny. You were meant to be his, no matter the cost.

His Devoted Obsession

• Kakashi’s tactics are subtle and insidious, cloaked in warmth and care. He’d insert himself into your life in ways that feel natural, like he’s just a dependable friend who’s always there when you need him, always appearing when things are going dire. But it’s calculated. Every comforting word, every thoughtful gesture, every perfectly timed “coincidence” is part of his plan to weave himself into the fabric of your life. “You looked a little overwhelmed, so I thought I’d step in.” • Kakashi convinces himself that his obsession is rooted in a desire to protect you, that it's normal he would be like this after everything that had happened to him throughout his life. If you’re in danger, he’s the first one there, stepping in with a calm authority that leaves no room for argument. “You don’t need to thank me. I’d do anything for you.” • His charm is his greatest weapon. He knows how to put you at ease, to make you laugh, to make you feel safe. His lazy demeanour and soft-spoken words hide the intensity of his obsession, lulling you into a false sense of security, that he would never do anything to hurt you. When he teases you, his tone is light and playful, but there’s an edge to his smile that makes your pulse quicken.

• Kakashi doesn’t need to be loud or aggressive to isolate you—he’s far too smart for that. Instead, he subtly plants doubt in your mind about the people around you. “They didn’t seem very supportive of you earlier, did they?” “Are you sure they have your best interests at heart?” His tone is so soft, so thoughtful and seemingly wise, that you don’t realize he’s slowly nudging you into relying on him alone. • He doesn’t see his actions as manipulative or controlling—they’re protective, necessary. “I can't lose you, not after losing everyone else,” he’ll say, his voice so soft and convincing that you genuinely believe him. But the truth is, Kakashi’s love is a cage, and no matter how warm and comforting it feels, it’s one you’ll never escape.

His Desperate Obsession

• He loves you so desperately, so tenderly, with full unrestrained love. It feels like you were swept off your heels by him and his intensity, the way he knew he wanted you from the beginning and the way you completely crumbled underneath him was almost pathetic. He loves you like no one has before, gifting you thoughtful things he knows you like, listening to everything you say with genuine interest. He protects you, no one bothers you whilst you're with him suddenly - and you don't quite understand. • Itachi carries the ghosts of his clan in every step, every breath, every calculated action. He’s spent his entire life sacrificing, losing everything to protect what he loves. But you? You’re something he can’t sacrifice, something he won’t. He tells himself that this time, he won’t fail, won’t let the people he loves slip through his fingers. This time, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, no matter the cost. • Itachi’s protectiveness goes beyond reason. He’s already failed once, letting his clan fall under his blade for the greater good, and he refuses to fail again. He doesn’t trust the world to keep you safe, so he takes matters into his own hands. The friend who’s too nosy? Gone without a trace. The ex who tries to reach out? Shows up in the news dead. You don’t see the strings he’s pulling, the shadows he’s working in, but the world around you becomes eerily smooth, free of threats. “You’re safe with me,” he’d say, his tone so calm, so certain, that you believe him. • His obsession is fuelled by guilt as much as love. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, not after what he’s done, but that only makes him cling to you harder. You’re his second chance, his proof that he can protect something without destroying it. He doesn’t tell you this—he doesn’t want to burden you with his darkness—but every glance, every touch carries the unspoken weight of his guilt. “You make me feel human again,” he’d admit in a rare moments of vulnerability. • If you ever tried to leave, Itachi wouldn’t react with anger or desperation. His voice would stay calm, his movements controlled, but there would be a finality in his words that makes your stomach twist. one that you know you can't resist because at this point he had made himself the top of the pyramid in your life. “You don’t understand what you’re saying. The world isn’t safe for you without me.” And if you push further, he’d step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’ve already lost everyone I’ve ever loved. I won’t let it happen again. Not with you.”

His Masked Obsession

• When you first meet him, when you're only friends he keeps up the guise of Tobi. Tobi is a harmless goof, all smiles and playful antics. He makes you laugh, brightens your day, and slips into your life so easily it feels natural. But Tobi isn’t real—he’s a shield, a distraction from the storm brewing beneath. Every laugh, every clumsy joke is calculated, a way to draw you closer, to make you trust him. “See? Tobi’s a good boy!” he chirps, his eyes gleaming with something darker than innocence. • As Tobi, he drowns you in affection. He remembers every little thing you like, shows up with thoughtful gifts “just because,” and tells you how much you mean to him at every opportunity. “You’re Tobi’s favourite person! No one else compares!” His voice is light, his tone warm, and it’s easy to feel safe around him. • The switch happens when you least expect it. The moment you cross a line he doesn’t like—talking to someone else for too long, brushing off his affection, or even hinting at distance—the mask shatters. His voice drops and lowers, his posture stiffens, and the playful Tobi disappears. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, his tone sharp and cutting. It’s a complete shift, like you’re staring into the eyes of someone you don’t recognize. • Losing Rin shattered Obito, and the thought of losing you pushes him over the edge. Every moment he isn’t with you feels like a threat, every smile you give someone else feels like a betrayal. He projects his pain onto you, his desperation spilling out in violent outbursts followed by trembling apologies. “I can’t lose you,” he growls, his hands fisting in your hair as he pulls you closer. “Not again. Not ever.” • After every outburst, Tobi returns, full of apologies and desperate affection. He showers you with gifts, clings to you like a lost puppy, and whispers tearful apologies. “Tobi’s so sorry! Tobi didn’t mean to scare you!” His voice is trembling, his hands gentle as he cups your face. He tells you how much he loves you, how he can’t live without you, how he’ll do better. • Obito’s love is suffocating, destructive, a wildfire that consumes everything in its path. He doesn’t see his violence as cruelty—it’s protection. He doesn’t see his obsession as wrong—it’s love. “I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take you from me,” he says, his voice calm but his eyes wild. “Even you, if I have to.” And in his mind, that’s not a threat—it’s a promise.

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shiongenkai · 2 months ago

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Jabberwock's B's-Log Pages!

Sorry for the horrifically blurry text. It's the best I can do, but feel free to ask for something zoomed in. I can easily provide!

Rough TL of what I considered important text under the cut.

Disclaimer: I am not a professional TLer, and this hasn't been proofread by another. I prioritized speed and therefore may have made mistakes. If you see them, please let me know. This is meant to be a very quick TL so people can have a rough idea of what to expect! TL notes are included on certain lines.

EDIT: I totally forgot to add like, a full two sentences. Those are there now. Im so sorry.

Main Story Summary: The members of Jabberwock, struggling to stay out of the red, head to a mission at the 'Father Farm' in order to make some cash! The farm has a labour shortage following each of its staff members quitting in succession. Furthermore, every retiree mentions the existence of a strange 'cat'. Even Ren, who usually hates troublesome work, agrees to go along, assuming it'll be easier than taking care of the anomalous animals. However... 'Father Farm' is a parody of a real life amusement park thing called 'Mother Park'. You get to do fun farm things like sheep shearing, racing pigs, a duckling procession, etc.

- Little Haru Image: "The heck happened to you guys?! When did you get so gigantic?!" Haru is so hard to translate I am Not up to date on my kansai…

Outfit Blurb: The Jabberwock members go on an undercover investigation! Here's a sneak peek at their super cute and colourful outfits! The actual outfit notes aren't that interesting, so I didn't translate them

Haru Sheep Blurb: The bright and cheerful voice of the announcer echos across the park, attracting visitors towards it. The MC is in charge of the capybara, Towa in charge of the sheep, and Ren in charge of the ducks! But their peaceful time quickly disappears as the fence containing the ducks breaks, leading to them escape....?!

Image Dialogue: "Welcome in, don't be shy! C'mon, everybody! Come on in, see the bang for your buck!"

Haru On Knees Blurb: At the farm, the temporary staff's main tasks obviously include taking care of the animals, but they also include helping to organise the events and shows! Due to that, the uniforms are cute work clothes that take after various animals. I honestly can't tell if their animal characteristics are fake or not… maybe they're anomalous? Shrugs.

Image Dialogue: "What the hell are these outfits…" (Ren, probably)

"R-Ren and Towa too huh? You look great in those matching outfits!" (Haru) I split this into two sentences because I think he's doing two thoughts… otherwise, it's 'Y-You guys look great in those matching outfits!' or something like that

"～～、～～……." (Towa)

- Towa Image: "Hehe~. Since Dandelion looks pretty, I'll protect her~."

#EseTL #eset td #tokyo debunker #haru sagara #towa otonashi #ren shiranami #jabberwock #tkdb #tokyo debunker spoilers

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pomefioredove · 9 months ago

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Just read the whole "Yuu gets sold off by Crowley" stories and OMLLL THEYRE SO GOOD XDDD Any chance you could do more on it like if Niege won or if the parents heard about it and also decided to adopt Yuu and Grim?? Maybe the other staff adopting her too or more on Crewel's adoption please???

requests for the crewel ending are in high demand I see...

summary: a crewel ending type of post: short fic, mostly speculation characters: crewel ft. other staff additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, definitely pre-book seven, parents being cringe

If Crewel were allowed to beat Crowley to death with one of his designer handbags, he would have.

...Unfortunately, with the adoption paperwork fees (...and a need for more designer handbags), he regrettably still needs this job.

And he'd like to keep an eye on you while you're still here, too.

The animosity between Crowley and the rest of the staff is unspoken, shared through passing glances and dry remarks at meetings, and though the matter is "settled", in Crowley's own words, no one seems keen on letting it go anytime soon.

The students who participated in the bidding war are subject to months worth of extra homework, harder exams, and worse studying hours from Crewel himself. To teach them a little responsibility, he says.

You, at least, are exempt from his radical new lesson plan. You have enough on your plate as it is.

After all, as soon as the legal proceedings are through and your identity as an autonomous human being in Twisted Wonderland is secured, the "fun" begins.

Your uniforms are tailored and rightly fit, you're given a proper meal plan, even Ramshackle is decorated with a few of Crewel's personal touches. A throw rug here and there, a fresh coat of paint, anything to cover up the rotting interior and turning it into something worthy of envy.

"...Given that Grim doesn't start shedding everywhere," Crewel had said. "Ugh, pets."

The rest of the staff are just as helpful, citing your recent experience with the bidding war as reason to take it easier on you for a while (or for the rest of the semester, really). Trein gives you less homework, Sam "accidentally" doesn't ring you up a few items...

It starts to feel more like the entirety of the staff has adopted you.

Not that you mind, of course. This is the closest thing you've had to family since... well, since coming here.

There's just the one thing, though.

"I don't know why you waste your time with those untrained pups. Honestly. The idea of their tacky shoes touching the rugs in here..." Crewel sighs. His eyes turn to you. "You know, I hear Vil Schoenheit has been looking for someone to take to his next shoot..."

Ashton chuffs. "Don't be ridiculous, they need someone who's strong enough to take care of them! Kingscholar is a real star once he gets motivated,"

"Please tell me I didn't just hear that," Crewel massages his temples. "And might I add, I'm their father, not you. I give the blessing. You're more like the unwelcome uncle crashing the family barbeque."

Grim nudges you with his elbow, muttering a quick yikes before darting out of the kitchen. You groan in embarrassment. "Guys..."

"I'm just thinking about what's best for them," Ashton says, puffing out his chest. "They're at an age where they're going to start thinking about dating, and we want them to make good choices."

"Guys,"

"Exactly. Schoenheit is a perfect gentleman, a master in my class, and has the style to back him up. Kingscholar can demonstrate occasional intelligence, but he's still another housecat," he shudders. "The shedding..."

A tired voice from the doorway interrupts their tense back-and-forth, much to your relief.

"Goodness, the two of you, at this again?" Trein scoffs, taking a seat at the table. "This conversation is highly inappropriate. You shouldn't be controlling the poor thing's romantic prospects, if they even have them. When the time comes, the choice will be theirs to make."

Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes and leaning against the table. Ashton kicks his feet. And neither utter another word.

"Good," Trein says, then clears his throat. "Ahem. But that's not to say that we can't offer our guidance. That Vanrouge did quite well on the last History of Magic exam..."

You groan.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #staff parents being EMBARRASSING and CRINGE compilation #queued

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puppeat123 · 2 months ago

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Homicipher

GN! MC x Mr Crawling

QUICK! ONESHOT

Clean up 🧼 Mr.crawling Fluff☁️

Alright it’s been a while since I have written any type of story or anything so have mercy it might be really bad! Anyways I appreciate yall and I hope yall enjoy!

The bold and crossed out words are the other language 🌀

Slight mention of nudity, SOAP JUMP SCARE,(Jkjk)

Quick note: I have not edited not proof read this so we ball sorry for the grammar errors in advance!

Since being in the this under world kinda place had been a lot it gotten easier tho. Over time you made friends with the residents. Although some of them you still haven’t quite gotten along with due to their odd or erratic behavior.

Mr crawling has been making it easier to survive through this places. He has been your best friend and companion through it all. Helping your survive encounters with Mr stitch, dodging Mr Scarletta who is still trying to find you.

However it’s been a while since you’ve done any kinda of self care and a good shower . (cute girl/guy)

Your hair felt oily and grimy, your skin looked like your rolled in the dirt, and your skin looked dry and ashy. You can’t remember when you let yourself get that bad,covered in blood and dirt.

Mr Silvair had a bathroom right? He has a whole living room type thing.

You felt a small tug on your rain coat. Mr crawling stared up at you looking a bit confused.

“Look?”

You’ve been staring at yourself so long in the mirror you completely forgot about him!

“Me look me!”

Mr crawling nodded in agreement.

“Pretty pretty!”

He can be so sweet but who knows maybe his saying that as a friend? The relationship between the bother of you wasn’t ever clear. He was ghost not human so a lot of things are bound to be different when to comes to romance.

“Together find Mr Silvair”

And off both of you went. On a small but important journey trying to find the doctor.

After a while you found his home. Knocking and pecking in hoping he was home.

“Hello!” You waved at the doctor before coming in.

“Hello”

The resident was always so kind when he wasn’t trying to use you as a lab rat.

“Big container water have?” You asked the ghost doctor. He had like a whole mini house in here.

“Yes. Water container there” He pointed to the room next to his lab.

“Thank you!”

You stepped into the room Mr crawling followed you in.

You hesitated for a second. Should I let him in? I mean he is literally just like a puppy he won’t be anything weird right? Now thinking about it has he ever taken a shower??Then again his a ghost who knows.

You sigh letting him in the room. Closing the door behind him. You look at the container it was almost the same size and a tube or maybe even bigger! The water was a nice temperature too not to warm nor cold.

“Body get out clothes”

You motioned to the ghost while taking your coat off. Mr crawling kinda looked confused after the request, seeing you take your clothes off he seemed a bit nervous but did so anyways. You try and not look out of respect. Since it was a huge tub of water a bath wasn’t enough you needed a shower. You found small chairs and placed it down in front of the tall man.

“Chair sit”

You instructed him.Now thinking about it taking your coat off was a bad ideas cause your clothes are going to get wet. Well you can always call in the bride lady. She was always so nice!

You found a bar of soap still in its box a while back while searching through ruins looking for something to remind you of home.

You started scrubbing at his back, Mr crawling first seemed tense but then started to enjoy it just happy to be there with you. He loved you washing his hair tho.

Once he was done it was your turn your told him to face the other way while you undressed cause it was a little awkward he was staring at you while you where undressing. He doesn’t have eyes but his stare was to much.

“Me want help! Cute cute me help!”

You sigh sitting down on your chair best to him and hand him the bar of soap and your rag in order to clean you up. He started scrubbing away the same way you did to him. It was really relaxing until he started to get to your front area in which you tried to do yourself without much luck.

Mr crawling was going to make sure to leave you squeaky clean like you left him! Plus you did him the favor of making him clean he will make sure to return of course!

He didn’t notice how your face was on fire, and you were thankful cause he was just trying to be helpful!

After washing off the soap and feeling nice and clean. You pulled out the lotion you found in the rubble. It was unscented so it worked perfect for the face.

You started rubbing the lotion down on Mr crawling. Starting from his hands to his whole arms and the up his neck and face.

His face trying to bury him self in your palms with the a big smile laughing to himself.

“Me like pet more”

You laughed he was truly enjoying him self. You made sure to careful rub in the lotion in his face taking in all the lines and was his face makes.

“Me like you”

His so silly he likes a lot of people you doubt he truly knows what romance is right?

He placed his hand on top of yours once the landed back on his cheeks.

“Me like you many”

You paused making sure your ear have not deceived you. Dose he understand the implications??

Mr crawling shyly gets closer to you holding you palm against his face.

“You want my [][][]?”

This a new word for sure, you haven’t heard it but non the less you wanna make sure you understand.

“[][][]?”

You repeated after him, he nodded a dusty pink shade spreading across his face.

What was he saying was he implying what you think he was?? But why now out of all places, literally sitting butt booty naked in a room after a shower is crazy work.

“Together? [][][]!”

He seemed a bit nervous trying to explain.

“Yes. Want you partner”

Mr crawling tackled you into a hug landing on top of you causing you to fall back and slide a bit further away cause of the lotion and water mix.

So there you lied naked being hugged by the huge man who can’t stop laughing and holding you tighter while rubbing his face against your neck. You laughed along with him happy knowing your feelings were reciprocated. You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek. In which he copied peppering your face all over with small kisses. This nice but it was getting cold with a slight warmth that the ghost could hold.

After a bit, both of you being nice and clean with new clothes given by Mr.bride.

“Cute cute!”

Mr crawling exclames seeing the new outfit given to you no noticing his own outfit matching your own.

“Thank you”

You did Mr.crawlings hair putting it into a ponytail at first ten braiding into to long braids and wrapping them in like pig tails so they won’t get in his way while crawling.

It took a while but once you were done he seemed to fall asleep on your lap. Mr.Crawling started speaking in almost whispered tone. Which you got closer to hear him.

“Me like you lots. You partner me. Together.”

You smiled softly.

“Yes together me you. Partner”

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crafty-butch · 3 months ago

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Embalmed

A short story by me (tw: body horror, self-harm kinda)

Did you know embalming isn't actually that common, worldwide? I didn't. Sure, there are some famous exceptions–looking at you, pharaohs–but embalming random schlubs is mostly a US thing. Plenty of religions ban it outright. Islam, Judaism, several branches of Christianity…

Bear with me. I promise I have a point.

Anyway, I've got no opinion on what God wants us to do with our corpses. I've never been religious. I'm still not, weird as that sounds. But I'm with Islam, Judaism, and several branches of Christianity on this one. Just skip the embalming and bury the body before it starts to rot. It'll be easier for everyone, on the off chance someone decides to bring them back.

No, this isn't a joke. Look, I'm not saying it's likely, okay? I know the stats. Less than twenty confirmed resurrections in the last half-century. Maybe twice that many ambiguous cases. Actually ambiguous, that is. Just because someone is flaired “unconfirmed” on r/Resurrected doesn't mean there's a chance in Hell they're legit. So, yeah, I get it's unlikely. But let's jump back to embalming real quick.

You know how it works, right? At least vaguely? Blood goes out, formaldehyde goes in. Well, that's step one. Step two is sucking all the non-blood fluids out of your body cavity and swapping those for embalming fluid too. They also sew your mouth shut, stuff some cotton in you to stop any leaking–I could go on, but I won't. Like I said, I don't have any issue with embalming from a treatment-of-the-dead-body standpoint. I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for embalming Great-Aunt Edith, here. I'm just saying, if the dead body becomes an alive body, you can see why there might be some issues.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say: “It's magic, dumbass.” And, yes, it is. That's why waking up with your mouth sewn shut and your body stuffed full of formaldehyde doesn't immediately kill you again. Doesn't make it fun, though.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't focus on the mouth thing. I'm sure it's happened to someone, but my sister cut the stitches out before she brought me back. She was thorough like that. I just feel like it's easier to picture, you know? Mouth won't open and hurts when you try. The rest of it's harder.

I don't blame my sister for not dealing with the formaldehyde. I know there wasn't much she could do about it. If she'd had more time, I'm sure she could've come up with something, but once you've dug up a body, you're kind of on a (ha) deadline. If someone sees you, you're done. So I get it. I've had a lot of time to think it over, and I'm still not sure what she could've done better. Other than just letting me stay dead.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…maybe I am? A little bit? I know that's an awful thing to say. It's not like I wanted to die. That's not what this is about. It's also not about how super amazingly great the afterlife is. Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea. I don't remember anything between the hospital and waking up on the grass with a chest full of embalming fluid. Does that mean there's nothing after? Or did coming back just give me amnesia? No idea. I leave that one to the philosophers.

My sister probably would've had an opinion.

She was always…

Let me tell you about my sister.

She was great. I'm not saying this because of what happened. She really was incredible. Almost perfect. One of those people who's so smart and so kind and so beautiful and so goddamn humble but not so humble you can even accuse them of humblebragging, to the point where you can't help but hate them a little for making you look so fucking shitty in comparison and then you feel like the biggest bitch in the world and that just makes you hate them more.

Okay, maybe she wasn't quite as perfect as all that. After I came back, I learned some things. Turns out she was just as much of a fuckup as me, in her own way. She was just better at hiding it. But I never met that version of her. In my memories, she's still just Little Miss Impossibly Perfect. I wish she'd told me about any of it. Maybe…

No, that isn't fair. Why would she tell me anything that could get her in trouble? Maybe I would've hated her less, or maybe I would've just gone and told our parents. Even once we grew up. Would I really have been able to resist knocking her off that pedestal? I'd like to think I would, but come on. Look how I'm talking about her. And that's after she sold her soul for me.

If you're thinking right now that the world probably would've been better off with her instead of me, you're not the only one. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. I've been told I project onto other people.

Maybe you're just confused about why I'm talking about her in the past tense. After all, it's not like selling your soul kills you, and you've probably never met someone unensouled. Or maybe you have, and you know exactly why I'm talking like this. Probably not, though. There are a lot more unensouled than there are people who were resurrected–people sell their souls for all sorts of reasons–but there are a lot more fakers too. Pro tip: if someone claiming they sold their soul gives any sign of caring about literally anything, including whether you believe them, they're lying to you.

So, yeah, she's still here. I know I keep saying it, but I'm not religious. I don't think my sister is burning in Hell while her empty husk sits up here, and if you ask me, that's just a real convenient excuse not to help the person who's still right there in front of you. Whatever a “soul” actually is, there's clearly someone here.

Sorry, I might be preaching to the choir here. And I don't want to sound like I think every religious person thinks that way. I just made the mistake of talking to my parents this weekend, and I'm still a little mad. Or a lot mad. Look, I know I'm getting off topic. Just, real quick, I want to explain.

She's still my sister. I'm not denying that. I keep saying she was this or she was that because she's not really any of those things anymore. She's not cruel, but she doesn't care enough to be kind. I'm sure she's still smart, but she doesn't actually want to use her smarts for anything. She barely eats if I don't pester her into it. I don't think she'd have an opinion on what my lack of memory says about the afterlife anymore. But, hey, maybe she would. Maybe I should ask.

Anyway. None of this is really my point. My point is, waking up next to your own open grave is freaky enough when you're not choking on formaldehyde. It took weeks before I was mostly bleeding blood again. (Yeah, I checked. Don't judge. You'd be curious too.) I coughed up embalming fluid for months. My insides still don't feel quite right. I could get them checked out, but I'll be honest with you. I don't want to know. I haven't been anywhere near a doctor since I got back.

I know, you don't think this will happen to you. No one you know is the right combination of smart enough to wade through all the bullshit to figure out how to revive you and stupid enough to go through with it. And you're probably right. But I thought that too.

#fiction #storycrafty-butch

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cyberm4n · 1 year ago

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could you pls do lucifers' oldest daughter x adam, and lucifer disapproves of it and adam rubs it in his face and the reader is innocent and has no idea whats going in between them and is absolutely in love with adam, and smut and possibly daddy kink if possible??♡♡

combined these two cause they work together really well! im so glad i got adam requests cause i am in LOVE with his man rn

cw: daddy kink, smut, readers first time, reader doesn't know of the history between lucifer and adam and i don't explain how, mentions of past tense bad father lucifer, adam is a little shit, not proofread

adam with lucifers oldest daughter reader!

■ OKAY FOR STARTERS

■ if Adam is genuinely interested in a relationship with you, like it's not just to get at lucifer then he's the biggest softy

■ im a firm believer he is a sweetheart in private moments in a relationship

■ to everyone else he's a total jackass but when you two are alone?

■ he's so respectful and loving to you

■ but if you're innocent

■ this man has the biggest corruption kink in the fucking world and the fact he gets to have his way with the daughter of his "enemy" satisfies him more

■ but it does make him feel a bit warm when it becomes obvious just how in love you are with him

■ and anytime you tell your dad about your boyfriend he lights up! so happy his daughter has found someone :)

■ but shit goes down when he asks to finally meet him, he figures if his daughter is in love he should definitely know him

quick recess from that train of thought

■ adam! who's got you laid out on his bed, working his shirt off

■ adam! who hears your little murmur about being a virgin

■ adam! who is immediately rock fucking hard at the fact he gets to take that innocence from you

■ adam! who hovers over you, kissing your neck as he helps you out of your pants, his other hand tugging impatiently at your shirt

■ adam! who can't get over how fucking beautiful you are, all other motives thrown out the window, he just wants to make this good for you

■ adam! who growls when he works a finger into you, feeling how tight you are and hearing you whimper

■ "princess you gotta relax, gonna stretch you out. i know baby, i know. just let me make you feel good"

■ adam! who scissors his fingers in you, desperately trying to make this easier for you

■ adam! whose cock makes you tremble when you see it finally, he's big. i think he'd be above average, 7-8.5ish inches, girthy too.

■ "baby don't worry ill make it fit, daddy's gonna take care of you, okay?"

■ adam! who audibly groans after you don't even bat an eye at his slip up

■ ugh he'd be so sweet as he's guiding it in you, kissing your face, maybe even rubbing your clit to try and get you to relax

■ but just as he's about to bottom out hears a little "s'too much daddy" from you and he swears he could have cum right there

■ if this wasn't your first time he'd be pounding the shit out of you now

■ but he's gentle, at least at first

■ "okay sweetheart, i need more, can you do that?" he'd murmur, so sweet.

■ and then he fucking rails you

■ HEAVY BELIEVER he's gonna try and go atleast 2 rounds with you, maybe more

■ you're just too perfect he can't help it

ANYWAYS

■ so like, you're really oblvious to the beef between your dad and adam

■ like it's just never been expressed

■ plus lucifer doesn't have a great relationship with his kids!! so the fact you've even told him about your boyfriend makes him happy

■ so you go out for dinner! it's a classic! you have no idea why you're boyfriend is acting so weird!

■ what does NOT make lucifer happy is seeing you walk in with adam, his arm slung around your waist

■ he's in denial for a moment, standing from his spot as he meets you halfway

■ "dad, meet my boyfriend, adam!"

■ there's a beat of silence, and you're not sure why

■ but lucifer extends a hand "adam, it's so nice to meet you" he says through gritted teeth

■ tbh both are pretty quiet, only exchanging niceties until you leave for the bathroom

■ adam squeezes your hand as you stand up, watching you walk off.

■ then he turns back to face lucifer, a smug smirk plastered on his face

■ "you motherfucker" "well actually technically im a d—" "shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up"

■ lucifer genuinely has to convince himself not to fucking kill adam right here. reminding himself that his daughter is in love with him.

■ lucifer decides he doesn't have to like adam for him to support you

■ but adam is such a little shit, once you get back to the table he will not shut the fuck up

■ but you seem so happy, lucifer sees the way you look at adam. he sighs.

■ even when adam tugs at your collar a little "fixing it" supposedly but lucifer knows it's definitely just to flash that little love bite he left there

■ and to you it seems like your boyfriend and dad are getting along great! you're so happy

■ at the end of the night your dad pulls you aside, doing the whole dad talk thing.

■ "if he breaks your heart.."

■ but you hug him for the first time in a long time, and he decides he can tolerate this for as long as im happy.

■ your dad loves you, maybe not your boyfriend, but you.

■ and adam.. deep down knows there's a little bit more to his facade. he cares about you, how could he not? this started out as just a way to get under lucifers skin but he's found himself genuinely hoping your dad doesn't try to sour the relationship

■ so when you take his hand as you part ways with your dad he sighs in relief

■ you're all his, and he wouldn't want it any other way <3

taglist: @reaper-of-light-12 @mxxny-lupin @wisteria-songs @t3llas

#hazbin hotel adam #adam smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel smut #smut #dad lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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gyaru-tau · 6 months ago

Text

FINALLY FINISHED MY QPHIL 3.0 DESIGN HOORAY (cant wait to. redesign it again in like 3 months.) (CHECK UNDER THE CUT FOR MY SILLY DESIGN NOTES!!)

I think I said this before but i so. SO BADLY wanted him to have a sleep theme since I always loved how his presence on the island was kinda up in the air. Is it a dream? Is it not? When he goes between the island and hardcore is that change really happening? Who knows.

The idea of making his usual outfit more like a housecoat was super appealing to me, so I opted for this open housecoat look with really heavy frills which were super fun to figure out, and I knew from pretty early on that I wanted to give him a quilt pattern SOMEWHERE on his design, so I thought the inside of the coat would do nicely for a sorta "default state". It also meant I could attribute meaning to the symbols and colours I used. wink nudge.

He has a more subtle angel theme, like with the mobile on his walking stick being a halo with the wing placement further emphasizing this, as well as just his generally lighter colour scheme. When I say sleep was his theme I almost more-so imagine it as like. The feeling of waking up in the morning where you're mostly refreshed but still a LITTLE drowsy. Lots of very spring-y, morning colours.

Just some other quick notes, I always really liked the mod in the server where you could have the crows perch on your shoulder and follow cuz of the lantern, so I thought it'd be fun if I made it so brian just straight up WAS the lantern. So I made him look like one of those wall outlet nightlights!! The backpack being kinda cat shaped was COMPLETELY unintentional but a very welcome result. Missa backpack is real.

As for the alternate outfits, I have a bolas one, as well as an ender king one since I deemed those two the most important. For the ender king I weirdly don't have many notes, like it's fairly straightforward (Save for the elephant in the room but now I'm gonna keep my secrets on why that's a thing). The Quilt design is supposed to be a lighter, easier-on-the-eyes version of the no texture pattern, and I imagine that all the goop and gunk on Phil is hidden under the coat. I imagine it'd look fairly similar to canon so just like. imagine it for now. Might draw it one day. MAYBE. There's some tiny additional colour symbolism but I'll hold my tongue on that and let you guys draw your own conclusions there. I WILL say, however, that instead of his theme being sleep, his theme is "nightmare" (and also kinda sleepwalking since both fit).

The Bolas design was SUPER fun to work with. For starters I wanted the three designs to be in three different states. One with the coat, one with the coat reversed, and one without the coat entirely. Since I wanted to do the checker pattern thing with the possession design, having the sleeveless bolas design worked really well for the shape I landed on, even if it wasn't conventional. and SPEAKING of non-conventional design choices, I decided to go against the usual plague doctor + gas mask fusion design. Which might be controversial... But god. The moment I thought of his mask being a falconry hood, the idea just wouldn't leave my mind. Because of this, the full mask is kinda separated into two parts. The eye mask which kinda also mirrors his usual sleep mask, and the gas mask itself (I kept it in a beak shape since it'd feel odd if i made it any other shape for phil, lol). When designing the whole thing I kept thinking about more apocalypse setting clothing. Like mad max. Or the one gag from that one spongebob movie. Lots of leather. And of course, to match the other sleep themes, the Bolas outfit's theme is "fever dream", although its a bit more subtle. It's easily the weirdest design, The pops of green were simultaneously in reference to the friendship emerald... As well as... Well, the green chain right below the chain on the sickness themed design was probably the most tasteful way I could've chosen to get across vomit without it being too on the nose. (also sidenote, I had a few friends compare bolas phil to... a fly. Which wasn't intentional but it's kinda funny that the guy designed after fever dreams looks a little bit like a bug.) Ok thats it for design commentary I'm gonna go to bedge nyow.

#syd spiels qsmp #my art #qsmp #syd's art #q!philza #philza #qsmp ender king #im so sleepy guys i gotta be up early tomorrow

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staybabblingbaby · 5 months ago

Text

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.2 (Anemone) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 4,218

Notes: I don't feel like the summary completely matches this story anymore. I'm also not really satisfied with this chapter, but I'm too tired to really get into a whole bunch of drafts and edits, I've just really been feeling poorly lately. The archive is for writing progress anyways, it's fine. I'll probably rewrite this whole chapter if I ever get to where I'd be comfortable posting finished versions to Ao3. I'm also just not fond of my writing style somehow. It feels too formal, doesn't flow enough. Problem is that I really talk like that lmao. Idk, I'll figure it out.

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part

Bangchan clambered into the van behind Felix, Minho and Jisung loading into the row in front of them. It always felt a bit weird to not spend some time swapping seatmates around based on who was clinging to who at the moment, but on days like today it was easier to just board the vehicles as quick as possible.

He's ended up with a relatively quite combination of their cluster today, and Chan was grateful for it as he settled into his seat with a pained grimace.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but a persistent on-and-off pain had been roaming around his back for the last twenty minutes as they’d said goodbye to Stays and prepared to leave the venue. He’d be more worried about it, except the sharp, needle-like, pains would settle into a gentler ache before kicking back up again.

As it was, Chan was pretty sure he’d pinched a nerve or strained something and would simply rest when he got back to the hotel. Maybe call up the PT. For now, as three of his soulmates settled in around him, Chan was content to leave it be.

Well, almost. Another twinge of pain makes him wince as he twists to buckle in, and Chan decides that maybe it’d be a good idea to know what he was working with. For comfort’s sake, if nothing else.

“Felix,” He prods the blond next to him, “Can you look at my back for me? I think I pinched something.” He motions toward his lower back, where the majority of the pain had been accumulating.

Felix immediately nods his acceptance, their group’s resident massage expert always willing to lend a hand. Especially if it let him lay hands on his very well built soulmates.

Chan scooches forward and rotates around, balancing with his hand on the headrest of the seat in front of him. He helps Felix shimmy his shirt upwards, struggling with it where it gets caught in the seat-belt.

Chan ends up stuck struggling on his own as Felix chooses that moment to direct his eyes and hands to the afflicted area.

“There’s your first issue,” Felix tuts, “You’ve left your concealment tape on. You’ll give yourself a rash one of these days, hyung.”

Chan gives a sheepish smile from where he’s managed to trap himself in a cloth prison. His head is free, and the shirt his appropriately bunched up over his shoulders and around his neck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to free his hands, so he’s got a bit of a t-Rex thing going on right now. It’s fine.

“I forget it’s there,” he confesses with a whine, “I can’t see my own back, y’know?”

Felix rolls his eyes at their oh-so-glorious leader, carefully peeling the thin material away from Chan’s skin as he scolds, “You still need to take it off. We sweat way too much to not at least change it after a performance.”

He’s bunching up the extra-strength tape to maybe toss at Jisung in the front seat (maybe Minho, if he’s feeling very brave), when he spots something off.

More than half a decade into having found each other, the members of Stray Kids were intimately familiar with each other’s soulmarks. Every drop of color, every line, every curve.

So when Felix looks at the freshly uncovered canvas on Chan’s back, familiar trees, bushes, and rocks painting a forested landscape that describes their impact on their eldest, something new immediately catches his eye.

There, on the fallen log that bridged two banks of a crystal-clear creek, was a moss blanket and a cluster little shelf mushrooms. They added life to the previously defunct object, a little bit of color that couldn’t have been said to be missing until it wasn’t.

The closer Felix looked, the more he saw. A mushroom here, a mossy patch there. Little signs of life and decay that he could have sworn weren’t there the last time he looked.

He looks to Jisung, who’s blissfully unaware.

As the first of their cluster to paint Chan’s skin with color, he was the most familiar with their leader’s mark. Jisung had been too young for his own mark to have appeared when he’d met Chan, but that didn’t stop him from influencing their eldest’s. They all knew he’d spent a lot of time studying Chan’s mark (and Changbin’s when it had appeared, already partially colored in) while waiting for his own.

If there was anyone who’d be more than certain of a change in their soulmarks, it’d be Jisung.

Felix swiftly removes his hands from Chan’s back, earning him a little noise of confusion from the prone man, and reaches over to poke Jisung harshly in the side.

Jisung immediately flinches away from the offending fingers with a loud yelp, attracting the attention of Minho, who’d been peacefully scrolling on his phone. Jisung swiftly fixes Felix with an offended glare, ready to retaliate, but is cut off before he can even try.

“Look at Chan’s mark for me.” Felix demands.

“My mark?” Chan echoes, baffled and alarmed. “What’s wrong with my mark?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Felix assures, “I just need to check I’m not seeing things.”

A series of furtive, silent, and, on Felix’s part, urgent, gestures are exchanged before Jisung finally relents and leans around the back of his seat, grabbing Minho’s for balance as the van departs.

Jisung lazily traces his eyes over Chan’s soulmark. All of Stray Kids had huge marks, but Jisung privately thought that Chan had them all beat. His mark spanned his entire back, not an inch untouched by the image. From shoulder to hip was an oil painting of a mark, filled in from what used to be a desolate landscape to what was now a thriving forest.

Jisung used to think it was so overwhelming to be part of such a mark. To be loved so much, and so deeply. It was evident in every brushstroke of the image on Chan’s skin, and in every action of the man himself.

These days, he found great comfort in it.

He’d gotten so lost in thought as he studied his soulmate’s mark that Jisung had almost missed what had caught Felix’s attention in the first place. But sure enough, his eyes catch on the same log that Felix’s had.

“Oh.” He whispers to himself. “Oh.” He says again, as Minho shoves his head under Jisung’s arm to look himself.

“No, yeah, that’s different.” He confirms, Minho nodding against him, having already spotted it for himself. The two of them find their eyes glued to tiny mushrooms, only sparing a moment to glance at each other before returning their gaze to Chan’s skin, each with their own racing thoughts.

“I thought so.” Felix nods to himself.

“What?” Chan questions, becoming more alarmed by the second, “What’s going on? What’s happened? What’s wrong with my mark?”

Felix lays his palms flat on Chan’s back and begins to rub gentle, soothing, circles. Any changes to a soulmark were stressful at the best of times, and they all knew how much Chan treasured his.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Felix soothes, letting the warmth of Chan’s mark resonating with his touch calm them both as he searches for gentle words.

“It’s just,” He begins hesitantly, “Well, the good news is that you haven’t pinched or strained anything.”

“Good news?” Chan echoes, “Is there bad news?” He lets a nervous giggle fall from his lips even as he relaxes into Felix’s hands.

“Not necessarily?” Felix says uncertainly, “It’s just. Well. Your mark has changed.” He pauses a second and pulls out his phone, quickly snapping a picture and then passing it around so Chan can see. “Something’s been added.”

Felix lets the implication of his words sit untouched in the air as the three of them wait for Chan to process what this means.

Ironically, Chan was the least familiar with his own mark out of all of them. His and Minho’s both resided on their backs so it stood to reason that the two of them didn’t see their marks very often. So it was no surprise that it took Chan several, very long, moments to spot the tiny changes.

When he does, Chan pulls in a deep, stuttering breath. The pain is already fading out to an ache now that it’s been acknowledged and Chan isn’t sure how he feels about the extra confirmation.

He carefully pulls his shirt back down, breaking his soulmate’s line of sight like they hadn’t already burned the image onto their retinas. He doesn’t remove his eyes from Felix’s phone.

“I...” He trails off, “I have another soulmate?” His voice is filled with wonder as he marvels at the picture of his mark. He looks up at the rest of his soulmates currently in the van with awe. “We have another soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Minho whispers, voice choked with emotion, “Yeah it looks like it.”

Felix doesn’t wait for Chan to fully turn around before he’s pulling their leader into a bone-crushing hug, giddy, disbelieving, laughter spilling out of him even as tears prick at his eyes.

“Oh my god!” Felix celebrates quietly as Chan wiggles to return his hug just as tightly. “Oh my god.” The other man agrees.

Even as his soulmates celebrate around him, each feeling their own storm of emotions, Chan can’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

Stray Kids was a uniquely large soul cluster. From the beginning, when it had become evident that Hannie wasn’t his only soulmate, it had caused issues. Then came Bin, and the rest had followed like dominos. Each time their circle expanded he’d thought “this has to be it, right?” and each time there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, “No, not yet.”

The issue was that that feeling, that little voice saying ”not yet”, the knowledge that they weren’t complete, had never gone away.

By the time they had all met, none of them could spot anything obviously missing from their marks. All of them were completely colored, lines drawn, images complete. And yet, every one of them felt that hollowness of an incomplete bond.

They’d talked about it a lot. Individually, as a group, in pairs and in quartets and seemingly endless combinations. It was hard, as the years went by, to ignore that nagging feeling.

Chan would always remember Jeongin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, crying and apologizing for not being enough. Could never forget taking Jisung to a rage room so they could both break down their feelings or drinking with Changbin and wondering if it was wrong for them to be so greedy as to want more when they already had so much.

After so many years, they’d begun to wonder if they were just broken. If they didn’t have another soulmate out there after all, and it was all in their heads.

It had been hard. It was hard.

And now that little blank space in his soul was painted with someone else’s colors and Chan felt whole in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience.

It kind of made him want to cry.

He wanted to cry even more when Felix innocently asks, “So what were they like?” An unmatched eagerness in his eyes as Chan pulled away.

That one guileless question triggers a realization in Chan that has his groaning in despair and slumping forward back onto Felix’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Chan mumbles into the shoulder of the slighter man.

“What was that?” Jisung questions from where he and Minho were still turned toward him, obviously as curious as Felix.

“I said I don’t know!” Chan wails, wilting further into Felix’s frame.

“How do you not know?” Minho questions incredulously. Felix gasps as he connects dots he’d been too excited to before.

“I didn’t even know my mark had changed before now,” Chan explains miserably, “I don’t even know exactly when the pain started.”

Jisung sucks in a hiss of air, sympathy splashed across his face. “Oh geeze,” he breathes out, “How many people have we met today alone?”

“Ok, well,” Felix interjects, “Not ideal, but we’ll figure it out!”

Minho turns his incredulous stare onto the optimistic man.

"How are we going to figure it out?" He demands, "Because there were tens of thousands of people in that stadium and I know every single one of us shook dozens of hands tonight."

Felix wilts a little bit even as Jisung comes to his defense, "We kind of have to figure it out, hyung," he points out, "And soon. We're back to Seoul soon."

"Okay but how?" Minho challenges, "And don't give me any 'with the power of love and fate' crap."

"We might have to rely on fate." Chan shrugs, dejected. "It's not like I have a description or anything to give out."

"It'll be okay Channie hyung," Felix pats Chan's back lightly from where they're still entangled together, "It'll have to be."

The van descends into silence as the four of them contemplate their new situation. After a few minutes Chan leverages himself up and out of Felix's embrace to frown aimlessly at his knees.

"Well," Felix breaks the silence, "We don’t have any more shows after this, and we have some days of break time, right?”

“Right,” Chan confirms, “We have tomorrow off and then we’re returning to Seoul to start working on the next album.”

“But officially,” Felix hedges, “We have, like, an entire week off, don’t we?”

“Not quite, but sure,” Chan hesitantly agrees.

“Well, we know they were in town for the concert at least,” Felix continues, “So as long as they didn’t leave the city immediately after, I mean, there's seven more first contacts to go, right?”

“Are you saying we should spend our break wandering around trying for first contacts?” Jisung asks, “Because I’m all for searching for them, but I don’t know that aimless wandering is gonna help.”

Chan holds up his hands to halt that conversation before it could devolve into a bigger debate.

“Let’s shelve that for now, and meet up with the others at the hotel,” He suggests, “We should discuss this as a group anyways.”

He receives a variety of agreements and the four of them settle in for the short remaining drive back to their hotel. He absently hands Felix’s phone back to him and retrieves his own from his pocket to ask the others to meet them in his room.

Chan looks out the window, post-concert fatigue all but a memory. As the buildings pass by, he can’t help but hope that their mystery soulmate was looking for them too.

You reaffirm your decision to never ever meet your soulmates as Taylor loads you into the car, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder the whole way.

It was one thing when your stupidly large soul cluster was just an idea. Knowledge you held, but unactionable in any way.

It was another when you had evidence, in the form of little white flowers burning with warmth on your skin, that they were real, physical, people.

Even worse when you knew that they were a group of very famous musicians.

You hadn’t actually been sick when you’d texted Taylor, who’d thankfully managed to get all of the autographs he’d wanted before he’d checked his phone to try to find you, but you were getting there. Anxiety had nausea creeping up your throat like molasses.

You’re beyond grateful when your roommate doesn’t question your sudden illness, the both of you well aware that you were hale and hearty when you’d left the house.

Taylor just buckles you in like you’re something precious and fragile and takes the wheel.

The two of you drive in silence the entire way home. It’s not awkward, but you can’t deny the weight of something heavy in the air. The buzz of the concert still lingered between the two of you, and it only made the silence stifling and itchy.

When you pull into your apartment complex neither of you speak for a long moment.

“Sorry for ruining the day.” You murmur to the air in front of you. Taylor just reaches over to pat your thigh and unclip your seatbelt.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” He assures, “Don’t sweat it.” He hesitates a moment before continuing.

“I’m not gonna push,” Taylor begins gently, “But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened, I’m not gonna judge. I just wanna be here for you.”

“What makes you think something happened?” You mutter mulishly. Taylor just gives you a look that has you sinking into your seat.

“It’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic.” You admit. He bumps your shoulder with his and climbs out of the car.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you feel something.” He tells you as he goes. The two of you walk up to the apartment in silence, contemplative this time.

You think about telling him as the two of you separate to wash the concert off of yourselves. You think about it as you take turns using the bathroom and as you make dinner side by side. You think about it as you settle in front of the couch at his feet as his hands automatically pull your head to his knees, his fingers digging into your hair just how you like.

You want to tell him, you decide. You do. It's just that. Well...

Your sister was right, in a way. You’d known Taylor for over a year now, but the two of you didn’t really know much about each other. You really were just roommates.

You didn’t know what his favorite color was. You didn’t know the names of his parents, or if he had any siblings. You barely knew what he did for a living. He’d only ended up your roommate by virtue of you responding to his “roommate wanted” ad with full willingness to be murdered on the spot.

At the same time, the two of you knew everything about each other. You knew how he took his coffee in the morning, that he preferred his eggs dry and over-seasoned. You knew the bands he liked and the games he played. You knew his hobbies better than you knew your own sometimes, and more about his friend’s drama that you ever wanted to.

You know the important things, you think.

You know that every word you tell him in confidence will be clutched tightly all the way to the grave.

“I met my soulmate today.” You confess, your cheek pressed to his knee, half-asleep.

The words somehow feel like they were snatched from the darkest depths of your soul as they spill from your lips. You make no move to take them back.

Taylor’s hand, to his credit, only pauses for a moment. Then he treats your hushed admission like any other comment made while you nod off to dramas the both of you know you only watch for him, resuming the soothing movement of his hand and humming lightly to acknowledge you.

You think it’s that casual treatment that lets you find the courage to continue.

“Well, one of them anyway.” You mumble. Taylor hums his interest, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen and doesn’t stop petting your hair.

“I don’t want to meet them. There’s so many of them and only one of me, y'know? I don’t even know how to love myself, how am I supposed to love eight other people?” Taylor says nothing still, his eyes glued to an episode of a drama you know the two of you have already finished three times over.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m scared they’ll fuck me up.” Your voice cracks as you breathe life into one of your deepest fears. You realize as you say it that you’ve never voiced these thoughts aloud before, even to yourself.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes when you admit, “I’m not ready for them. I don’t think I can be.”

Taylor finally gives in to the seriousness of the conversation and hauls you bodily up onto the couch. You go willingly, but with rag-doll limpness. He rearranges you to his liking and you find yourself in Gossip Position, sitting criss-cross facing him.

“First of all,” He starts in, his usual levity giving way to a seriousness you rarely see from him, “Don’t be mean to my best friend. I’ll hit you.” You ignore his threat in favor of the warm feeling in chest at hearing him call you his best friend.

Take THAT Ma! No friends your glorious behind.

“Secondly, you are literally the most loving person I have ever met in my life. You would fit the entire world in there if you could,” He pokes your chest, right above your heart, for emphasis, “So I’m not that surprised you have more than one soulmate.”

“I have eight though,” You argue, “Isn’t that weird?”

Taylor just shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But weird is basically your brand, so...” He trails off with a teasing smirk.

You shove him a bit in retaliation, but he just grabs your wrists to still you and continues speaking before you can argue.

“I don’t think eight soulmates is enough for you, honestly,” He muses, “I mean it when I say you’re the most loving person I know. I think you’d even try to take care of Danny if he needed you to.” The mention of Taylor’s very creepy second cousin sends a shiver down both of your spines.

The worst part is that you can’t even argue with him.

“But you know, even with eight soulmates, you don’t have to be with them.” Taylor suddenly switches tracks to reassure you, “They’re your soulmates sure, but you’re your own person. They’re for you, it’s not like they are you. You can live without, if you really want to.”

The two of you let that statement settle for a moment. He’s right, you know all too well. Still, the thought leaves a wad of uncomfortable and complicated feelings lodged in your throat.

After a moment’s pause, you break the silence.

“I have too many years of trauma and not enough therapy money to unpack everything I’m feeling right now.”

Taylor cracks first, and giggles come pouring out of the two of you. The joke wasn’t even funny, but you guessed the two of you had been serious for far too long.

Some minutes later, when the giggles finally die down and you return to watching Taylor’s show, you find yourself with your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you, right?” Taylor quietly picks up where the conversation had left off.

“Sure,” you agree, “Like I was there for you when you cried over a boy I told you wasn’t shit.” You completely deserve the elbow to the side you receive for that comment.

“Shut up, I’m being cheesy!” Taylor scolds with a laugh.

“I’m lactose intolerant!” You complain, but obligingly fall silent.

“Seriously,” Taylor insists, “I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”

You wrap your arms around the one of his that you’re leaning on and give a gentle squeeze to show your appreciation. “Thanks Tay.” you murmur.

“Of course. You got me front row tickets to a SKZ concert, we’re ride or die whether you like it for not!” You poke his side to scold him for not being serious after just insisting that you be, but end up having to fight for your life when he immediately retaliates by trying to tickle you.

It takes the two of you quite a while to calm down again, Taylor smug in his victory. He holds your ankles in his lap like trophies of war as you stare at the ceiling. The quiet creeps back in quickly, so you speak.

“I’m just not sure what I want, I think.” You tell him, “I don’t want to meet them. But at the same time, I really do, y’know?”

Taylor nods, “Just let the universe do its thing.” he suggests, “If you’re meant to meet them now, you’ll meet them regardless of what you want. But after you meet them, it’s all up to you.”

You nod along, humming your acceptance of his advice. He’s right, again. You can’t really fight fate, even if you desperately want to. But even within that large restraint, you’re a human being with free will. The world is your oyster and all that.

You let your thoughts fade out and just listen to Taylor yap about the drama on the TV as he finally tunes back into it.

It’s nearly dawn when the two of you decide to turn in, post-concert jitters having deserted you and heavy conversations having taken their toll.

“Did you manage to get their name before you bolted?” Taylor asks out of nowhere as you’re walking to your respective rooms. “Your soulmate’s” He clarifies at your confused look.

“Oh, I didn’t need to.” You answer absentmindedly, already opening your door and dreaming of your cozy sheets. “It was Bangchan.”

You close your door on his gawping face, blissfully unaware of the crisis you’d just sent him into.

Perma Tag List: @Mbioooo0000

#skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #w.i.p fic #skz fic #w.i.p #baby writes #SGAU #Soulmate Garden AU #Soulmate AU #SKZ soulmate AU #stray kids soulmate au

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therealcocoshady · 3 months ago

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U know this videos of Eminem Concert Core on Tik Tok? I keep thinking about it but with us (Reader/YN) that has the same personality as him and embraces his strange with her own strange

(Part in bold: Famous audio on my country's tik tok translated badly; i dunno how this audio is on english)

Em: I think it's going to start raining.

Reader: I doubt. I'm wearing a red panty for lucky

Em: Me too

Reader: You are in a red panty?

Not a request or anything, just an idea that popped up in my mind (but if u write it /j)

Ugh, you have no idea how much I love this. These eminemcore videos on TikTok live in my mind rent free. Please allow me to elaborate on how dope it would be as a concept 🙊

Most of the time, especially nowadays, he appears calm and composed and public. Three decades and 16 years of sobriety after getting his start, he's not as chaotic as he used to be. He's not as quick-tempered, not as angry and erratic. But the way he lets his goofy side come out, on stage and behind the scenes, you just know that it wasn't just the drugs making him wild. If anything, being sober makes him a better agent of chaos.

He's stated in interviews that, sometimes, him being high or wasted would make his mean and angry side come out. Now that he is sober, people around him probably don't fear his bad temper as much. However, sobriety doesn't mean he has become any easier to put up with. If anything, he is just as insufferable. Maybe even more so, now that he has more wit, so his jokes and the playful jabs he throws at people are even more creative. You can just tell the weird, sometimes intrusive thoughts in his brain win, sometimes, and he's just happy to let them.

Now, some people would think that, as he gets older, maybe he'd calm down (no) or that he just needs to find himself a lady who keeps him grounded. After all, maybe he's been single and alone with his weird brain for too long. Imagine their relief when he says that he has, indeed, met someone who makes him happy (finally). Only for the relief to be short lived as they finally meet her and realize that he really has found his match. Not only does she put up with his antics but she's just as freaky. Weird humor. Crazy ideas. Pranks. The things Marshall says that leave people puzzled, because they don't seem to make sense... She gets them. When he makes an obscure reference, she gets it too. And they really don't know if they should be happy for him or scared that it's actually a sign of the apocalypse. 🙊

Or, imagine that Reader meets some of his friends. Maybe she's just moved to Detroit, or they meet at an event/party. And as they get to know her, they can only think about how much of a female version of Marshall she is, in the way that she is unapologetically weird and freaky. They really like it, though, because it makes her really funny and entertaining. She's really cute, too, and overall, they agree that she'd be a great match for him. They just don't know if they should try and play matchmaking or act in the best interest of everyone's energy levels and try to keep them away from each other. 👀

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #eminem blurb #eminem drabble

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writeforthepeople · 3 months ago

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Heyy! I've been thinking about Damien and the reader being in a YouTube short film together playing as a married couple and as filming goes on they find themselves actually falling for each other 😩😩 specifically a scene where they're lying in bed together and have to face each other all closely and they're staring into each other's eyes all soft UGHH anyways! I would love if you could write a lil fic like that 🥹🫶 even if you don't end up writing it ty for reading this req!

Absolutely LOVE this idea. The UGHH says it alllllll. Summary: You are cast in a short film your friend Amanda is working on and you are playing Damien's love interest! While you always strive to be as professional as possible, the acting feels a bit too real...and maybe it is?

Warning: No smut, slow burn. Word Count: 4k ... I might have gotten carried away with this one.

You woke up to an early alarm, you had to wake up earlier than usual to start getting ready for your first day on a new set. Your friend Amanda was making her first short film and decided to cast you, of course, you were excited to work on the project because you love her, but you would have been willing to do any part of the project to help. You getting cast as the love interest to the main character certainly gave you a confidence boost though. Nerve racking? Sure! but exciting none the less.

You continued going over the script for what must have been the 10th time as you finished getting ready this morning. It was a romantic comedy about the main character, Gideon Hale who is able to see ghosts. He makes a living running a small bed and breakfast, but on the side he is a bit of an 'Afterlife Coach' (the name of the film) where he coaches ghosts on getting through the afterlife. He meets an old friend (you) who is back in town after many years for a mutual friends wedding. The story focuses on his journey helping the ghosts around him and getting to know you and falling in love. You were a little nervous for a few of the more romantic scenes, but it is nothing you haven't done before. You've been in many plays and projects where you have had to kiss or be romantic with a partner. This one felt different though, you had met Damien a few times through Amanda and somehow knowing him made it feel a bit awkward. Not to mention the fact that you thought he was incredibly attractive, but that would only help the acting be easier, right? It didn't take long to get to the filming location, Smosh had offered to let Amanda use some of their space for filming. When you walked in you were immediately greeted by Erin, the set coordinator. We chatted for a few moments before she brought me to the set Amanda was working on. You were blown away with all the effort that had gone into really making the set look like a bed and breakfast. There was a lobby, a kitchen, and a bedroom plotted out for various scenes. "Y/N!! You're here!" you heard Amanda's familiar voice yell out as she made her way over to you. She was beaming, and it made you smile. "I'm here and ready to work!" you said, giving her a quick hug. "I hope you are here and ready to fall in love because we are about to make magic" She laughed, but you knew there would be more jokes to come on that front. You looked around and didn't see Damien yet but you noticed several other familiar faces from Amanda's parties. It looked like Angela was running the show, directing and moving people about. You think to your self, this must be the most serious you've ever seen her.

"Damien is wrapping in hair and make-up, he has a few scenes to shoot before you enter so once he is done you're next in the chair!" Amanda talked as she led you to the small room right off the stage. "Hey Trina, this is Y/N, she's up after my little star here" he pointed to Damien, waving her finger around in a funny gesture. She walked off without saying anything else. "Hi Y/N, you can take a seat we are almost done here" Trina said and Damien smiled "How are you feeling?" he asked you politely "I'm good, a bit nervous but I am excited" you admitted, trying to hold back your surprise. His hair was different. Last you had seen him his hair was getting long, but was distinctly dyed a silvery white, but the man sitting in the chair has more of a slick backed 90's look and was dyed completely black. "How about you?" you asked, not mentioning the hair. "I'm good" he said not moving his head as Trina added hair spray and tapped him on the shoulder "You are set" she she smiled and turned back to her kit. You watched as Damien examined his look and quickly turned to you "I've never had black hair, how does it look" it was as if he was scanning your features for an answer. You shook your head "it suits you. I like it a lot" you admitted, your cheeks a bit red. "Did you dye it just for the role?" you follow up with and he smiled and nodded "It felt very Gideon" he said with a chuckle "plus Amanda had a vision and who was I to say no to that?" he added. "Well hopefully I don't have to dye mine, but anything for Amanda right?" you smiled.

"Luckily your hair just needs styled" Trina chimes in. "You ready to hop in the chair?" she asked and you nodded, standing up. "Well I will see you out there" Damien said, leaving the room with a wave. "What a nice boy" Trina said after he left and you nodded "he's really sweet" you agreed. "So, you are the love interest huh?" she turned you to the mirror and talked through a bit of Amanda's vision and you got started. You didn't need anything to crazy, she was going to style your hair and put on some make up and take you over to wardrobe. After you were ready, you headed to the set and took a seat in the corner to watch the scene they were filming. Damien was speaking to a ghost played by Tommy, helping them understand that he has options in the afterlife. Amanda came over after they cut and asked if you were ready. You oddly weren't, your nerves were high but you shook out your hands and planned to fake it til you make it. She led you to the scene in the lobby of the bed and breakfast Damien's character, Gideon, owned. You stepped to your marker and looked to Damien, who was reading the script once before the scene and you smiled to yourself, thinking about how cute his thinking face was. You shook out your hands again, you needed to shake any thoughts like those away.

"Ok" Amanda starts "Damien, Gideon is prepping for two arrivals he has today, both are high school acquaintances in town for your friend Aprils wedding. You are feeling uncomfortable, knowing you will have to make a lot of small talk and feel a need to be more entertaining than with any standard guests" she said, nodding but speaking again before he can talk at all. "Y/N, Gwen is nervous about being back in town. Not only is she having feelings about her close friend getting married and starting 'the rest of her life' " the ending she added finger quotes "but Gwen is also feeling inadequate, not being as advanced in her career as she thought she'd be by now, knowing she'll have tons of people asking about it all weekend." I nod to her "I don't want to give too many notes upfront, lets just vibe" she said and you chuckled. That is so like her.

"Action" she said before taking a seat. You begin walking up to Damien, a smile appearing on his face, it looked so genuine. "Hi, I'm uh checking in under Henry, Gwen Henry" as you reached the counter. "I know exactly who you are" he responded. "I'm Gideon, we had 11th grade history together" he spoke, checking you in. "Of course! Gideon, wow, you look great man. I didn't know you worked here" you could feel your nerves leaving as the conversation, while in character, felt so comfortable. "Yeah, I have been running the place for a few years now. Want me to help you with you bags? I can show you to your room" The two of you walk off scene together before it cuts. You ran the scene a few more times, taking notes as you went. Your characters filmed a bit more together, discussing the upcoming wedding. "Do you need a ride to the wedding? Damien asked you, as you sat at the kitchen table the next morning. "I am going alone so I would be happy to drive you" he added. The first time is character is meant to outright flirt with you. "Unless you have a plus one" his character sits across from you and you look up. "I do not" you smirk, as Amanda had instructed "I would love a ride" you went back to looking at your phone but the smile stayed. "Alright folks, that's a wrap!" Amanda yelled and people began bustling around again. She jumped on set and put her arm around around you "you guys did great today" she pulled you in closer "thank you for doing this" she added and you grinned "literally anything for you, and I didn't even have to dye my hair" you joked "Isn't he the best for that?" Amanda asked "It seems like it" you said before her added in "I really am" with a joking shrug. "

The next morning was filming day two of three, and you had a later call time, the morning being a lot of Damien filming with his ghosty friends. By the time you got to set, things were in full swing, but you had a lot to do to get ready. Your scenes were around attending the wedding of your characters friends. Which meant your make up and hair were done up and you were going to be in a nicer dress. Trina got you in the chair quickly, and she did great work. You needed to take some notes because you loved the way she did your make up. Next was finding the right dress. Amanda had the team bring in a few options to find what would be best. When you tried on the first one, you were instantly relieved that there were more options because this was not it. The dress was too tight in the worst ways. The second dress however fit you like a glove.

You were nervous enough about what you had to film today, you didn't want to also have to worry about how you looked. When you stepped back out to the main set area you were greeted by Amanda's grin "giiiiiiirl" she shook her head "If I wasn't married, I'd be the one falling in love with you today" she made you laugh, it was nice to feel all dolled up even though it was only for a few scenes. The bigger issue was the scene after that. Where you and Damien's character end up in bed together at the inn.

No big deal, just awkwardly laying in bed together, staring into each others eyes, with cameras, cast, and crew all staring at you. Totally fine. "Are you ready?" She asked, her tone more serious "nervous at all?" she asked. "Me?" you responded "never" you faked a laugh and she nodded, but you know she saw right through that.

You filmed a few scenes. It felt like you had to film the scene of you walking out in your dress, Damien seeing you for the first time, over and over. Notes given everytime about changing the reaction, Amanda wasn't sure if she wanted an immediate connection, or if it would be one sided from the start so you got several take options to use. Then a few scenes at the wedding, where your characters ended up dancing together, both drinking and feeling the weight of all your old acquaintances feigning interest in your lives. Gideon calls you both an uber back to the inn, far to drunk to drive. The scene cuts to Gideon helping Gwen to her room. The both of you stumbling and laughing, making jokes about the music and the speeches , but when you reach the room the mood shifts. That shift was hard to capture, filming over and over a small but crucial scene.

"Oh, Gideon..could you help with my dress?" your character says, Damien's face heating up at each take. If you didn't know better you'd think part of it wasn't acting. As his character helps, he sits down on the bed, listening to Gwen continue a story as she changed in her bathroom, door open but just out of view. That is when she climbs into the bed with him, both talking and becoming more comfortable. Only taking two takes to get that just right, natural as could be. It was the next scene, the final scene that caused issue.

Gideon and Gwen lay back on the bed, laughing about the way an old school mate said the word "wildest" in his speech, he'd spent the summer in London and now thinks he has an accent. As your laughing slows, you look at each other. Your characters seeing each other in a new way, but you and Damien could not stop giggling. Ruining the scene each take.

"You guys are KILLING me" Amanda says, giggling herself. "Ok, here is the deal. This scene is everything.. it has to be right. We have a few more scenes to get tomorrow so lets try this again then ok?" she sighs. "In the meantime, I need you two to find a way to get...better?" she said with a shrug "I need you two to look at each other like everything shifted, like your friendship is ending and a relationship is beginning. I don't care if you lay in this bed all night figuring it out...but please figure it out" she walked off and you and Damien looked at eachother as the crew starts to wrap set. "Yikes" he said, breaking the silence. "I'm so sorry" you start in but he cuts you off "hey it is both of us, it is an awkward scene" he lets out a bit of air "Maybe we should actually practice" he suggests and you raise an eyebrow

"Why Damien Haas, are you trying to get me in bed?" you ask with a smirk "Maybe" he smirked back and you and while you started it, it made your cheeks heat up. "We can order in at my place and get more comfortable?" he said, losing the edge to his voice and becoming more sincere.

"That does sound like a good idea" you admit. "I guess we haven't really hung out before, so it would be nice to just shake off the nerves and be more comfortable" you said honestly. "Anything I can pick up on the way to your place?" You ask but he shook his head "no, let me shoot you over my address and we can meet there" you hand him your phone and say goodbye to a few people before taking off and driving to his house. The nerds really hit when you walked up to Damien's door. Were you really here to...lay in bed with a cute boy? This can not be real life.

You knock on the door and hear him shuffle a bit before answering. "Hey!" he said, you could tell he was out of breath. "Sorry was just uh picking up a little" he said, gesturing for you to come in. His place looked so nice. You smiled, turning to face him "This place is very you, I like you" you said and he smiled in return "I tried to make it feel like home" he started walking to the kitchen and you followed behind him. "I thought Italian food would be a good option, so I got a few things from my favorite spot".

"I'm not picky" you smiled and watched him as he made you a plate, setting it at the table. "What can I get you to drink? I have sodas, water, tea" he looked in a cabinet next to him "Oh! I don't drink much but I have a bottle of wine we could crack open" he said, pulling out a bottle. "You know, a glass of wine sounds perfect right now" you chuckled. "You are not wrong, take the edge off" he nodded. "What, you don't often invite women over to lay in your bed and stare at you?" you joked at him

"Oh no, this s a weekly occurrence for me" he joked back. He was always quick with a joke, and you liked playing off of him. You followed him to the table, sitting down "Well now I don't feel special at all" you hold back a laugh.

You both talk, getting to know each other over dinner. You found out you had a lot in common, especially around gaming. You learned he even voiced a character or two that you liked and that was a shocking revelation. "Ok" he says, after cleaning up our plates. "I think we dive right into this. Find a way to be more comfortable with ease" he weighs in "we could like...cuddle on the couch?" he shakes his head "this is so awkward" he covers his face with his hand. You start in, hoping to ease his tension "No no, you're right." you give him a small smile "this IS awkward, don't feel bad" you both are quite for a moment "Cuddle on the couch and watch an episode of TV or something? Let us get get over the awkwardness. Pretend this is a casual date night or something" he nods "we are both actors, we can do that" he says with confidence.

You were trying to contain your feelings as he sat next to you on the sofa, turning on netflix and finding a baking show to watch. That was sweet of him since you said that was your go to type of show. "Is it ok if I put my arm around you?" he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen. "That would be ok" you glance at him. When he placed his arm around your shoulders you instinctively leaned him closer. Your heart picked up as his hand nervously laid against you. You held in your breathing slightly, afraid to move too much, wanting to just take in the moment you are in. You watched the show for several minutes like this, quite but comfortable. "I wish I could bake like this" you said, breaking the silence. "Me too" he said adjusting his arm slightly and gently rubbing his thumb against your arm. You got goosebumps very lightly, hoping he hadn't noticed. You adjust slightly and lay your head against his shoulder, allowing for a slight escalation.

In turn, Damien pulled you in a little closer and for a moment you forgot why you were here. "This is...comfortable" he said eventually and you nodded "Yeah, it is" he could not see your smile, but it was there. "Not nearly as awkward as I thought" you added and he chuckled "Oh you thought cuddling with me would be awkward? Should I be offended?" he said playfully. "or should I be happy you imagined cuddling with me at all?" he kept a playful tone but the comment made your cheeks warm. "I guess there are worse people I could have as a romantic counterpart" you joke back. "I'll take that as a compliment" he said, his thumb moving up and down your arm at a slower pace, your body acutely aware.

"We've proven we can cuddle." you say, not sure how to really say that you want to try laying down now. you feel his head nod and you move to sitting back up. "Do you want to...move to my room?" he said now looking at you. "I think so" you said, realizing how close you two still sat. "Do you..maybe want to talk expectations?" he said a bit quieter than his normal voice. "Cuddling on the couch is one thing I uh-" he stammered a bit "I want to make sure you are comfortable and that I don't overstep here" you bit your lip slightly and his eyes moved to stare but quickly came back to your eyes "Yeah" you try to say confidently "Um, the scene does call for a few things, maybe we could practice all of that.." he trail off, knowing that means a kiss.

"Ok" his smile clear "Lets just practice the scene and stop if we feel too weird. Maybe that is easiest? Lets just be Gideon and Gwen?" he suggests and you felt your shoulders actually relax a bit. "I like that Idea" you add in, starting to stand up. "well, are you going to walk me to my room?" you said in a more confident voice that you use for Gwen. Damien stood up, grabbing your hand and leading you to his room. Your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe the way you were able to continue this exercise without squealing. You reached Damien's room and looked around. He had dark bedding, and low lighting. It was much like you expected it to be but very clean and still inviting in a way.

He sat on his bed, patting next to him. "So, we both are sitting here" he said as you made your way over, sitting next to him. "Laughing about the world wildly" you add and he leaned back, you followed. This time, you turned to look at him and he looked at you. This time, there was no giggling, you both stared for a moment or two before you cracked a smile. "Look at us" he said sitting back up, that had to be 5-6 seconds right? he joked. You sat back up too "Better than before right? This is more comfortable already" you tried to shake out your hands and he watched in amusement. "Am I making you nervous" he said, a hint of joking but more a sense of intimacy in his question. He actually worried that something he was doing was uncomfortable and you shook your head no at first but stopped. "I think It was more nerve racking to do all of this with you in front of everyone, judging our movements, giving us notes, you know?" he nodded, you could tell that just saying it gave him some relief. "I was thinking the same thing" he admitted "I don't want to come off as a weirdo but it felt wrong to potentially kiss you for the first time in front of all those people and immediately receive notes on it." he chuckled slightly. "not really how I imagined it" you said, not thinking about the implications of that statement. "So you imagined it huh? He said leaning into the playfulness. You wanted to backtrack, to say something about it being in the script.

Instead you played off his attitude "what if I have?" you bit your bottom lip and you saw the shift in his face, the corner of his mouth turning upwards and he cocked his head to the side. "Well now you have to share with the class. What exactly did you imagine it being like?" the way his spoke made you take a sharp breath. You leaned in closer to him "to start, there were a lot less people" you say in a low voice. Damien matched your energy leaning in, you two sitting on the bed closely "there are less people here now" he watched your eyes, waiting for any kind of invitation "and yet you still haven't kissed me" you felt his hand on your face before the words left your mouth. "I've also thought about what it would be like to kiss you" his voice low as he inched closer. You closed your eyes, waiting for his lips to meet yours. It was soft at first, testing the waters. You pushed harder against his mouth and you felt him envelop you. His hand now in your hair and his body beginning to press against yours. You fall back on the bed and follows, hovering above you as he gently pulls back.

You look up and him and smile "I think we will be just fine tomorrow" he says, before kissing you again.

#damien haas x reader #smosh fanfiction #smosh fanfic #damien haas

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valentinetypewriter · 10 months ago

Text

Knife happy Medjacks

Masterlist

Word count: 723

The maze runner (platonic/unspecified) x Gn reader

I got this idea from this deleted scene

Jeff has to wrangle in Clint and Y/n, who after dealing with builders all day, start to agree that maybe amputation is the way to go

Today had been a particularly rough day for Clint, Jeff and I, the builders had started a new project today and with that brought many of those said builders into the Medjack hut with various injuries. Ranging from cuts, scrapes, bruises and the occasional broken bone. They may have been incredibly strong but the builders didn't seem all too bright sometimes.

We had just sent off one of the builders who managed to break his finger with a hammer when Clint decided to speak up “you know, maybe we really should start amputating them” I put away some supplies before looking over at him. “Well I mean it would certainly start teaching them to be more careful” he let out a quick laugh “it would also make our job a lot easier when they're building” the two of us laughed with each other before Jeff stepped in. “Ok no, we are not amputating them” I let out a sad groan “aww come on Jeff, don't you think they deserve it” Clint was quick to back me up “Y/n’s got a point, plus their stupidity is starting to get on my nerves”.

Jeff seemed to almost consider what we were saying before instantly shaking those thoughts away “NO! Besides, how would we explain amputation just for some cuts and bruises?” Jeff simply rolled his eyes at us as he went back to sorting our supplies. Me and Clint looked over at each other, nodding and silently mouthing agreement's.

Organising all the new equipment took a lot longer than any of us would have liked, it wasn't easy when we had stupid teenage boys coming in every five minutes because they couldn't seem to distinguish nails from their own hands. We had just finished taking care of two guys, who had somehow managed to slice up their arms, working into lunch. The random influx of boys coming in was something that the three of us struggled to keep up with sometimes. The three of us sat around the hut all very exhausted. I sat myself down on a chair in the corner of the room, Clint was sitting on a stool with his head resting against his folded arms on the table next to him, it seemed like he was asleep. Jeff on the other hand had made himself comfortable on one of our operating tables.

“We should probably get some lunch before the others devour everything” Jeff said with a sigh, he seemed to hate his own idea of getting up. I groaned as I stood up from my seat, dragging myself over to Clint, shaking him gently “hey wake up buddy, we need to get some food” Clint rubbed his eyes before slowly pushing himself up from his seat. Though before any of us could even move a step, the doors were pushed open. Clint instantly flopping back into his chair, a tired and annoyed whine coming from him. I grabbed the Gigli saw off the tray of equipment, turning towards the door “what do you want?”

The two boys stopped in the doorway “woah put the bloody saw down, we only brought you some food” the three of us instantly perked up at Newts words. “Yeah we thought we'd bring you some food since you've been taking care of my guys all day” Gally sat down two trays of food on the table Jeff was sitting on while Newt handed the one he was holding to Jeff, who instantly started eating, though I couldn't blame him. I pick up one of the trays and handed it over to Clint before dragging a chair over to the table to start eating myself “well thank you boys, that's really sweet of you” Newt smiled at me as Gally ruffled my hair “don't mention it, figured you guys would need some rest, besides we're done for the day, to many broken hands” Gally shook his head and I wasn't quite sure if it was out of annoyances or disappointment.

“Well Gally and I will leave you three to rest, and don't worry we'll bring you some dinner too” Newt smiled at us before making his way out the door, quickly followed by Gally. A few moments of silence passed as we all ate before Clint spoke up “I still reckon we should start amputating”

#the maze runner #the scorch trials #the death cure #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner x you #tmr x reader #Tmr Clint #Tmr Jeff #tmr newt #gally x reader #newt x reader #short fiction #The maze runner x gn reader #The maze runner x male reader #gn reader

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rebouks · 2 months ago

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Do you have any recommendations for starting a story? Yours is so good and it really inspires me to try and make one of my own but idk where to start

Hmmm a tough question! I think we all just kinda start and learn as we go? It's the best way tbh.. if you look back at the beginning of most simblr stories they've usually come a long way! Here's a couple tips that I think might be handy tho...

Maybe we could start a thread and everyone could reblog this with their own tips?! 🤩

Decide if you want to build your own lots/sets or not. If you do you'll probs wanna start off with the main places you'll use that're full of personality, like a main characters house or place of work etc. you can always download some neat lots and edit them to your liking if you're not a builder, or maybe even download a whole save file!

Start a character page (or make an intro post for em if you can't be arsed with the technicalities) - not essential but useful for you and the readers to keep track of who's who and maybe state a few facts about them etc.

Start collecting some poses and ideally rename them so they're easy to find! I personally like to add smth like [PETS] or [KISSING] etc to mine (in s4s) in conjunction with twistedmexi's pose finder to make things easier to grab.

If you use reshade/gshade, taking the time to find or create a nice preset will save you a bunch of time editing.

For the love of god if you're gonna make a bunch of extras, try and dress them in maxis clothes/hair.. I'm so SICK of having to redress everyone every time I clear out a bunch of cc skjdksj 🙈 you can always give em an extra, fancy cc outfit for specific scenes on the day but yeah, do yourself a solid where possible to save time/pain in the future. Same goes for lots you don't use often, try and limit the cc you use!

Figure out if you're a planner or not! If you can't manage without a plan it's okay to take some time before starting to figure everything out and get a detailed outline going. If you're more of a pantser (like me!) you can always just get going with a rough idea in mind and see what happens!

If you're gonna go with the flow I'd still recommend creating at least a rough outline, you don't have to stick to it like glue but it'll probs help you stay on track and I wish I'd have done this in the beginning, esp if you're gonna have a plot heavy story.

Characters > plot.. (imo!) like.. you could have a super interesting plot in mind but if no one really knows or cares about your characters it's gonna have a limited impact/amount of interest. They don't even have to be likable lmao

Give your characters some flaws! It's fun and it makes them more relatable.

Start with a small cast - not a complete must but it'll be probably be easier for people to get to know your pixels if they're aren't a million of them right off the bat. You can always add more later.

Try not to shoehorn your characters into situations they wouldn't end up in just to further the plot.. a hard one to explain and mostly based on intuition but if a scene feels boring, out of place or forced, it probably is! aka.. be willing to kill your darlings. Maybe you've already established that your character is poor or smth but have this fun idea of a road trip montage or whatever.. like you can't just give them a car and the money to drive a million miles just cos you HAVE to see that scene y'know? Maybe they're gonna have to hitch hike, get the bus, or take out a loan? Probs a bad example but hopefully you get the idea! It can sometimes be more fun to force your characters into a different situation than you imagined anyway, like maybe they meet someone really neat on the bus and they join the trip, or maybe whoever they borrowed money from gets all pissy when they can't pay em back quick enough etc etc.

Let your characters guide you - sometimes characters talk to us! You could've had a whole storyline planned for them, or a romance of whatever, but when it comes down to it, it just doesn't feel right and that's okay! Let them lead you in a different direction now n' then.

Write for you! (ugh becca stfu with this shit) I know, I know but really.. if you're not having fun, what's the point? Don't write what you think other people want and learn to be okay with cutting ideas/scenes/characters/whatever! that you aren't excited about anymore. It should never feel like a chore to create, and if it starts to feel that way, take a break or change it up!

I feel like this is super rambly and I've missed a million obvious things but my brain is mashed potato rn lmao.. pls feel free to add your own tips in a reblog or a comment - everyone has a different take on things! I think it's really important just to start and see what feels natural tho 🤸‍♀️🧡

#ranswers #<3333333 #story tips #??#idk how to tag this #my bio says it all u kno.. we're winging it here n have been from the start weeeeeee #i just daydream my sims into ✨situations✨ and then create them like 9/10 times #lmaoo

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heavenbarnes · 1 year ago

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Run the pass

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x GN!Reader x Sydney Adamu

Warnings/Contains: reader is gender-neutral (no pronouns or descriptions of their genitals), swearing, allusions to alcohol, brief and non-descriptive mentions of vomiting, Claire exists, reader doesn't necessarily treat Syd the way she deserves, penetrative sex (with no mentions of protection), oral sex (reader and Syd receiving), coming inside, dirty talk.

Word Count: 7k

I have had this idea in my head for an AGE and I'm so glad I finally get to write it. In my head, the threesome didn't happen but I think it was a lovely addition. God, I just need these two like water.

This kitchen sounds like home.

Sure, there's a whirring noise coming from the walk in chiller. Sure, Richie is going waxing-lyrical at Fak over the score of some ball game. Sure, the grill spits like a dragon at the gates of doom.

But this kitchen sounds like home.

It's full of flavour, and friends, and- well, Carmy's in it.

You can only see the back of him, the white t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. You can see the backs of his arms moving as he plates the next meal. But it makes you smile, just inwardly, as you fold the mixture in the steel bowl in front of you.

When you look up again, Sydney's beside him. She's pushing another plate towards him and they're shoulder to shoulder. They work so perfectly in-sync that your smile widens.

Tina catches it, nudging you with her hip as she walks past you. "Wish somebody would look at me like that."

You just shake your head, putting it down to focus on your food in front of you as you keep working. By the time you pick your head back up, you see that Carmy's looking back at you over his shoulder.

Looking into Carmy's eyes is like staring into the sun, all consuming and a little blinding. If it'd been any different, you would've seen Sydney watching you over his other shoulder.

Carmy is a good boss, he's firm but fair. Firm but fair.

Working in his kitchen is one of the best gigs that ever fell in your lap. He wasn't even the one to hire you, go figure.

His brother, Michael, he hired you. You'd come in to put your name in the running for the kitchen-hand position they were advertising for. He saw something different.

That's how you ended up working the register.

Not exactly what you had in mind when you'd applied at the restaurant but, money is money and it was nearly impossible to find a job in this city. Also, Michael had told you that once folks walked past and saw you in the front window? Customers would come running.

You figured it wasn't worth the argument, and who knows? Maybe you could've impressed him enough to make your way into the kitchen.

Then things went and changed on you, Michael up and made his big decision and here you were on the register with his younger brother running the kitchen you so badly wanted to break into.

Carmy needed to find his feet in this place, understand how the sausage gets made. So you didn't fuss about your role, it was easier to let things lie as they were and maybe bring it up later on.

It wasn't even you that brought it up, it was Sydney.

"God knows we need more help in the kitchen but no, let's keep the register covered!" She threw up her hands with an exasperated groan.

Carmy's face scrunched in confusion, looking towards the wall as if he could somehow see through it and visualise you out the front.

He spoke your name like a question, one that Sydney was very quick to answer.

"Carmy, please tell me you're not serious?" She even laughed a little as she picked up the cloth on her shoulder and threw it at the man. "Have you two even spoken once?"

And then it was Carmy that finally brought it up with you, calling you into his office as he heard you getting ready to leave for the night.

You poked your head into the small room and smiled at him. "Yes, chef?"

He waved you in, turning his seat around till he was facing you. Carmy was hunched over, obviously tired with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Why didn't you tell me you graduated from Kendall?"

Your mouth suddenly felt dry, eyes going wide like you'd been caught out in some kind of lie. You hadn't really lied, had you? Just maybe not told him the whole truth.

"Well, I-uh-" You stuttered your way through, hoping he'd just give up and drop it.

Carmy was a surprisingly patient man.

Your voice could hardly be called more than a whisper as you spoke. "I told Michael."

Confusion was written on his face as his brow furrowed. "What?"

"He just thought I'd be better as front of house, thought maybe the customers would enjoy something nice to look at."

Carmy felt his eye twitch, his elbows nearly shattered his femurs as he his whole body went rigid. "Excuse me?"

He wasn't even sure why he'd asked that last part, it wasn't like he was listening. As you babbled away in the doorway, all Carmy could hear was the blood rushing in his ears.

Michael had said what? From the moment Carmy laid eyes on you he had wished nobody else could. He didn't want a single person to be able to look at you the way he did, he wanted you all to himself.

And his older brother was happy to let any of the bastards off the street look you up and down through the front window? He actually encouraged it?

Carmy stood up quickly, maybe too quickly, he felt like his head was spinning off his shoulders. As his heart nearly burst out his chest he realised what he needed. Keeping his head low, he turned to look at you and suddenly felt it.

The world slowed down a little bit, everything settled back nicely into place. You were smiling, albeit nervously, but you were there and you were smiling.

Carmy ran a large hand over his face as he spoke matter-of-factly.

"I want you in the kitchen starting tomorrow morning," His eyes locked onto yours. "Chef."

You didn't really remember where it started, well- you kind of did. You think it might've been a late night, both of you the last to leave the kitchen and you'd been talking each other's ears off like you usually do.

Carmy definitely made the first move, there was no doubt about it. You seemed to think he'd had your hips pinned to the edge of one of the stainless steel benches as he caught your lips with his own.

You'd felt the firm muscle of his neck beneath your hands as you cradled him like he was precious. Well, to you at least, he was precious.

It'd ended with him walking you to his office, making you kneel in his chair as he took you from behind. You remembered his hands closing over yours, where they gripped the back of the chair, fingers locking with yours.

You remember the flashes of his tattoos as he dropped one of his hands in front of you, sliding down your front to the centre of your thighs- how his hips didn't falter once as his stroked you to perfection.

Everything Carmy did was perfection.

His food made your eyes roll back in your head, his movements could make your mouth water, his words could have your whole body twitching,

In your eyes, Carmy was built on a pillar of perfection.

Not that he'd ever see it, anyways.

You'd both done your best to keep your private lives private, but this kitchen, this kitchen felt like family. It wasn't long before the glances between you both, the poorly timed arrivals and departures from the place began to add up.

Sydney was the first to notice, she didn't even say a word. She'd just seen the way you looked at him, how you'd light up when he praised your food, how your body reacted when he'd place a hand on your back to move behind.

Sydney was always observant when it came to you.

She didn't need to say anything, anyway. Tina coined on soon enough and then it was all over. Obviously, she told Richie, who told Fak, and the rest was history.

You and Carmy never confirmed or denied at work, but at least you didn't need to try and hide the way you felt about him. If they saw you kiss in the car before work, everyone just let it be (most of the time anyway, Jerimovich).

The confirmation never came because, well, you'd also never confirmed it just the both of you. He wasn't your boyfriend, there was no real label to what was happening.

You were two people who wanted everything to do with one another and very much enjoyed the other's company. That was simply that.

Any given night of the week, you could be found curled up on Carmy's chest either at his apartment or yours. Any of the other nights, you were probably underneath him or perched in his lap crying his name.

Neither of you felt the need to force a label on it.

By the time Claire showed up, things had become- different?

Carmy had been good about it, really good about it, he'd told you straight away that he'd seen her again and he had feelings for her. You'd both spoken at lengths over the dinner table about what this meant and the decision was mutual.

There was no label on it, he never belonged to you.

The rest of the family were harder to convince that this was for the best. Richie had actually walked out when you'd explained that you and Carmy had stopped 'seeing' each other.

Sydney couldn't deny she'd felt initial shock about it, too. It sort of blindsided her, but then there was a little something in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't- wouldn't name.

It was actually her that tried to have the 'come to Jesus' speech with you about Carmy.

"I'm not above begging, you need to start fucking that man again."

You nearly spat your coffee out, leaning against the front counter watching Sydney pace back and forth. "What on earth are you-"

"It was so much easier when it was you and Carmy," She stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel to look at you. "Since Claire turned up he's been impossible."

Even you had to admit that you'd noticed a change in Carmy since Claire showed up. He was so distant, he was hard to tie down, he seemed more on edge. He reminded you more of the Carmy that first arrived at this restaurant all that time ago.

It was a shame, you thought, he'd been doing so well.

You wiped a drip of coffee off the side of your mug as you placed it down beside you. "I really don't think me fucking Carmy is the answer."

Sydney gave a small shrug that almost came off as agreement. She wouldn't say it out loud but it definitely wasn't her first option, it wasn't even her second. If Sydney had it her way, she didn't want to think about Carmy's hands on you again.

And she'd thought about it. A lot.

"Something has to give, I don't think I can handle him canceling one more plan."

You sighed, a full-chested sigh that conveyed you felt her frustration. Pushing yourself off the counter, you placed a hand on Sydney's shoulder. If you were her, you would've felt the pure electricity that radiated off your touch.

"I'll at least talk to him, how about that?"

The talk didn't really do much. Carmy promised to do better, there was an apology in there somewhere. But you come to find out days later that'd he'd bitched out on another plan with Sydney.

Men, can't live with them!

It was in his office (without him of course, he was with Claire) with Sugar and Sydney that you'd all made up your minds. Well, you planted the idea and it grew from there.

"Lets just go get a drink, I don't think tonight is worth wasting any more energy."

Sugar jumped at the chance, already walking back out front to grab her purse. Sydney needed a little more convincing, her spirits a little crushed and her soul a little tired.

You'd managed to hush her up, giving her marching orders to get in your car and look like she was enjoying herself. Which, she ended up doing.

The booth was a little sticky and the music was a little shitty, the lights were so dim you could hardly see but you were having fun. Even Sydney had to admit she was having fun.

"Okay, fine! I'm having fun!"

Sugar let out a squeal of excitement, bringing your glasses together to cheers. "Here's to forgetting my little shit of a brother!"

After she said it, she turned to you with an apology on her tongue. "Oops."

You laughed it off, raising your glass and taking a sip. "No harm done, remember, we were-"

"Never togetherrrr." Sugar finished for you. "So you keep saying."

You just shook your head, calling the waitress over for another round. You ordered for yourself and Sydney before Sugar stopped you from getting hers. "Don't worry, Pete's on his way."

The three of you needed each other, needed this bond, needed these drinks, needed this moment. Regardless of your feelings towards Carmy, you'd all been scorned by him in some way, shape, or form.

It even felt good to hear Sydney get her real feelings off her chest.

"And you know what? Not to sound un-girls-girl, but fuck Claire!"

It was met with a quiet "fuck her!" from Sugar.

"She comes to the restaurant, she's just staaaaanding there, she knows she's taking up all his time."

All of you needed to get it out, you maybe the least. You knew it was hard for everyone else to understand, but you really didn't hold any resentment towards Carmy. Maybe a little, for leaving the kitchen high and dry. But really, you just enjoyed the memories of you two.

You and Sydney were a halfway through your new drinks when Sugar stood from the booth, grabbing her bag.

"Alright, I love you two more than life itself but I must depart!" You laughed as the tequila spoke for her.

"Bye, Shug!" You called after her as she waved and blew kisses at the both of you before disappearing through the door.

Leaving just you and Sydney alone at the table, you smiled at her as she intensely studied the grain of the wood. Sooner or later, she looked up and caught your gaze.

"Are you actually okay with Carmy and Claire?"

You smiled, earnestly. "Yes, I'm frustrated that it's upsetting you, but I'm inherently fine with it."

Sydney swallowed hard, you would've been able to hear it if the Brooks & Dunn in the bar wasn't so loud. She rolled the edge of her glass around the table before she spoke up.

"I just don't know how he's so okay with it."

You immediately thought she meant his letting the restaurant slide. But you knew Sydney, you knew her just enough that you could tell there was something sitting below the surface. You cared enough to implore it.

"Okay with what?"

She pulled her lip between her teeth before she looked up at you, like she was staring into the sun.

"With letting you go."

Your face softened, enough that she noticed. But Sydney also quickly noticed that it was a look of pity. That stung enough to make tears well on her waterline.

Pulling your jacket over your shoulders, you began to shuffle out of the booth. "I'll settle the tab and then I'll drive you home."

Sydney had never felt more like a tall child.

The lights of Chicago blurred past her eyes as you weaved through the streets. It wasn't lost on Sydney that you drove with one hand, the one closest to her was free and resting on your thigh.

She wanted nothing more than to reach over and hold onto it, maybe move it to her own thigh. As if you could read her mind, she caught the way your eyes flickered over to hers.

Slowly but surely, you lifted your free hand but instead brought it to the dial on the radio. As you turned it, she could hear the music in the car consuming her.

'And when I'm back in Chicago I feel it...'

She expected you to pull your hand back to your own leg but instead you reached over the gap of the centre console. Your hand brushed against hers as you took hold of it, squeezing it once and leaving the weight of it in hers.

Sydney knew that she had her chance, so she simply squeezed back and wrapped her other hand around yours with it. She held you tightly, like you were precious. Because you were.

She rested your hands in her lap, leaving them there against the soft fabric of her trousers as you continued you navigate the streets with one hand. When you pulled up outside her house, Sydney physically felt herself deflate.

Not only did you have to draw your hand back to kill the ignition, you'd reached the destination. It was up to her now to pull herself from the warm hold of your car and retreat to her room alone.

She weighed up the level of damage involved with throwing all caution to the wind right now. She figured she could just turn to you and let it out. Sydney could do something for herself for once.

As she balled up the courage in her chest, she didn't realise how long you'd both been sitting in silence until you finally spoke.

"Are you going to invite me up?"

And then Carmy loses his rag when he's locked in the chiller.

He laments about his failures, how much Claire had blinded him. He'd thrown your name in the mix, he'd apologised (for whatever reason) and decided his great epiphany.

If he'd never left you then none of this would've happened.

You weren't sure if he meant locking himself in the chiller or just everything in general. You weren't even in the kitchen at the time, this was all secondhand from Richie.

At the time Carmy was bearing his heart and soul to you, you were out the back of the restaurant holding back Sydney's braids as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

"I'm so sorry, this is so gross-"

"Don't apologise to me, how long has this been going on?"

The sound of the door screeching open tore your attention back over your shoulder.

"You really need to get in here- oh, what the fuck?"

"Richie, shut the fuck up. Can you get us some water?"

He grimaced a little at the sight in front of him but you pushed him with a flash of anger across your face. Yes, it was gross, but there weren't that many parts of Sydney you weren't fond of.

Even the ones that weren't pretty.

By the time Richie had come out with the water glass, he'd pressed even further how much you needed to get back into that kitchen. You knew it must've been bad if he wasn't even willing to tell you the details.

When you saw Claire by the chiller, you were moments away from asking for an explanation. You swallowed the words quickly as her face lit up in a hot rage, wet with tears. Before you could even think, she was turning on her heel to march out of the kitchen and back through the dining room.

What the actual fuck was happening?

It was a messy wee thing for you all to deal with, but deal with it you did. Sure, there was irreparable damage between Claire and Carmy (and you, by association), but the kitchen was stronger than ever.

And Sydney was happy again, back to having Carmy's attention and support at work. You saw the way she moved, her shoulders free of tension as she worked at her station. You just liked seeing her happy.

Sydney was happy, she was very pleased to be rid of the distraction that was forcing the kitchen apart. However, there was a gnawing little pit of jealousy that lived in her stomach and threatened to force its way out.

With Claire gone, there was nothing keeping you and Carmy apart.

She'd had you once, one perfect night. You'd been splayed out in the centre of her bed, her name falling off your lips as she settled in between your legs. She'd had a taste of you, and you weren't something she could just be okay with letting go of.

You were built from perfection.

So she waited, she waited for the other shoe to drop. There is always another shoe. Sure enough, no matter how hard Sydney tried to hide from it, it inevitably found her.

You and Carmy had arrived in the morning, same time, already laughing about something as you came through the door. That's all she needed, that feeling in her stomach expanded until she could barely breathe.

She caught the way Tina smiled at you both, a knowing smile. That cemented it for Sydney, if Tina had noticed it too, there was no doubt that it was unfolding in front of her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it.

And why should she stop it? You were happy! So was Carmy! And he was back to being fully present in the kitchen just like she wanted. But she'd be damned if she could get the thoughts of him touching you out of her head.

Touching you like she wanted to do. Like she'd done once, so fucking well.

Sydney wondered if Carmy really cared when he touched you? From the moment she held you she knew she wanted nobody else to do it, not the way she had. And now knowing that she had to share you? She felt like her head was going to spin right off.

She wondered what'd happen, when you finally told Carmy about what happened between the two of you. If you even would tell him. Did it mean as much to you as it did to her? Did it cross your mind every night like it did hers? Did you touch yourself as you lay in bed, reminiscing over that night like she did?

Probably not, she decided. You probably had Carmy to touch you, to hold you, and that would be consuming your mind. Sydney figured herself out to be an afterthought, a fun night that was never meant to become anything else.

When everyone was shutting the kitchen down and you were walking towards her across the dining room, Sydney braced for the worst. Silently, you helped her with the place settings until you spoke up.

"I told Carmy about us, about you and I."

In some sick way, all Sydney could really focus on was the fact that, even in the smallest form, there was an 'us.'

Without lifting her head, she continued to work on the cutlery. "And what does he think?"

You snorted a quiet laugh through your nose, a sound that should not have made flowers bloom in Sydney's chest. She couldn't breathe.

"He was jealous, I don't think he liked the idea of someone touching me like he does."

Sydney couldn't stop herself before her mouth opened. "Wonder what that's like."

In her peripheral vision, she could see your whole body still. Slowly, she trailed her eyes up the length of your body until they fixed on your face. Wounded, you looked wounded.

A sicker part of Sydney liked the idea of you finally knowing how she felt.

"I am so sorry, I never meant-"

"No, it's fine-" She cut you off, standing up to full height and brushing her hands on the front of her chef's whites. "I should've never got so attached."

"Sydney, please let me-"

"It was always meant to be you and Carmy, and now it is. Anyways, isn't this what I wanted?"

As she begin to walk away, leaving you alone in the dining room, Sydney mulled the same question over in her head.

Isn't this what she wanted?

"I just feel fucking terrible."

Your hands splayed out against Carmy's chest, fine hairs under your fingertips and inky tattoo's muddling against your skin. He held you so tightly as you rolled your hips in his lap.

"Don't worry about it, baby." He responded, breath a little clipped as he fucked up into you. "She said it's what she wanted."

You rolled your eyes before your eyes rolled back, Carmy's cock hitting the exact spot you needed it to. "You didn't see the look on her face or hear the way she said it-"

"To be honest, sweetheart, I don't really want to be visualising Syd when I'm balls deep in you."

Snapping your gaze down to his, you realised pretty quickly that you shouldn't have. Carmy looked incredible, eyes blown out, sheen of sweat across his skin as he put all his energy into fucking you. Ignoring the pang it sent to your stomach, you used the leverage of his shoulders to bounce on him.

"I really fucked up, Carm. I knew how much she was into me and I was selfish about it."

You couldn't really be sure he was listening to you, with the way his hands were running up your front to tweak at your nipples. You tried not to give away what it was doing to you, but a few whimpers escaped your lips, regardless.

It wasn't lost on you the way the corner of Carmy's lip quirked up at that. He took his eyes off your body to fix on your own, fighting for your attention as he kept rolling your hips against his.

"Selfish? What were you missing me or something?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, hand leaving his shoulder to playfully smack his cheek. It immediately conjured a groan from deep within his chest, a sound that hit you right in the middle of your stomach and made your hips falter.

"You're bad, Carmen."

"Yeah?" He questioned you, hands gripping your hips to lift you slightly, increasing the pace of his own thrusts. "Well you're worse."

You wanted to argue with him, you had it on the tip of your tongue but the minute he started jackhammering his hips into you- it was gone in an instant.

"Missed me so fucking bad that you got into bed with Sydney. You laid back and let her put her mouth all over you, because you couldn't get what you wanted from me."

The words were crazy, he was speaking pure insanity but the way his cock hit deep inside you was enough to curb your arguing. The minute you tried to open your mouth, a pathetic moan slipped right off your tongue.

"Thaaaat's right," He cooed, goading you into more embarrassing little sounds. "You missed the way this felt so you had to go get it wherever you could."

It was a lot, it was nearly too much for you to handle. Right as you thought you were slipping, that he was going to win eternal bragging rights, you found your own again. Tensing tight, you made sure to choke Carmy's cock on his next thrust.

The man beneath you froze, eyes rolling back and hips stuttering as you clenched around him. Finding yourself, you pressed your hands back on his pecs as you bounced in his lap.

"Not quite, Carmen," His name dripping like silk off your tongue. "Sure, you might've decided to fuck off on me but it's not like I was hard up on options."

Carmy tried to respond, but it was his turn for the words to get lost in his throat. His hips bucked up into you, cock twitching at the feeling of you gripping him even tighter.

"Look at me," You ordered, his eyes shooting open to take in the sight of you above him. "Do you really think someone that looks like me, looks as good as I do right now would be hard up?"

You caught the slight shake of his head, the way his hands fixed back on your waist and pulled you down on him with every bounce. He was desperate, the way he speared you straight on his cock was sending shockwaves right through you but you fought to remain in control.

"I could've had anyone I wanted and I chose Sydney, because I've seen the way she looks at me."

You leaned down, lips up close to his ear as you spoke. This close, you could hear him whimpering for you, the heady sounds emanating from within him.

"I fucked Sydney because I needed someone to treat me the way I deserve. When she had her mouth on me, it felt like I was being worshipped."

Carmy squirmed under you, you'd been in this position enough times to know exactly what was going to happen. His lips fell open and the string of incoherent moans you'd know him for began sounding.

"And you know what, Carmen?"

You could hear him chanting quiet little sounds of 'what, tell me baby?' as you spurred him on.

"I think you both need to learn how to share."

A visual splashed across Carmy's mind. The sight of you, face down ass up. Your mouth between Sydney's spread legs as her head crushed into the pillow. Carmy's hands pulling your hips back onto his as he fucked you roughly from behind. The both of them sharing you.

All of a sudden, Carmy pulled you down into his lap and launched his hips up. His head tipped back, his mouth fell open as he came deep inside you. Your name was the only thing he remembered how to say as he shot several hot ropes of cum into you.

The sight of it was something to behold, your hand falling down to rub between your legs as you felt him finish in you. It was all enough to push you right over the edge, head dropping into the crook of his neck as you reached your own peak.

As you came down, you felt Carmy's hand rubbing soothing circles into your back. The blood rushing around your ears was dissipating and you could only just register he was speaking.

"Huh?" You asked quietly, lips gently pressing against the skin of his shoulder.

"You can have it," He repeated, fingernails gently scratching up your spine. "Whatever you want, you can have it."

Apologies were an uncomfortable beast. Carmy was coming to terms with them a little better, after a bit of self reflection. He figured they made him uncomfortable because they were necessary.

For you, you were feeling lucky that Sydney was the forgiving type. You’d fully expected her to ask you to go fuck yourself when you’d attempted your apologies. Nice enough, she’d been quick to forgive.

In her eyes, she just wanted whatever part of you she could get her hands on.

That was probably why she was here right now. Back in this bar with you, the bar that (as far as she was concerned) was the beginning of everything.

That’s why she was also astonishingly fine with Carmy being here too. She was even sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. It was then you noticed they were moving in sync, the way they both raised their glasses to their lips at the same time.

Your eyes flickered back and forth between the two, shitty music making up for the lack of conversation and dim light dancing across the both of them.

They looked good this way, this is how they were almost meant to look. Content? Beautiful?

Looking like everything you ever wanted.

So it was a natural course of events, when the three of you later burst through the door of Carmy’s bedroom. You stopped at the end of his bed, trapped between the two of them.

Carmy’s chest to your back, Sydney pressing firmly to your front. Trapped.

Trapped, but completely willing.

Hot, physically and theoretically. The heat that was radiating off the both of them was consuming you. Sydney's hands were desperately working up the front of your shirt, feeling across your chest to cover any stretch of skin that she could.

Carmy's hands were on the waist of your jeans, undoing the button and fly as he dove down the front of them. His strong, skilled fingers felt you through the thin barrier of your underwear.

Your head tipped back, resting on one of Carmy's shoulders. Sydney took her chance, bridging the gap and closing her lips on your throat. You could feel her sucking at the skin, teeth gently running along the column of your throat.

The unmistakable feeling of Carmy hardening against your ass was ever present in the back of your mind. As Sydney worked you up, Carmy was pushing your jeans down your thighs, pressing his cock further into the split of your ass.

His lips came to your left ear, you could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke. "You look so fucking good like this, feel so fucking good."

As his fingers began to breach the front of your underwear, it was Sydney that was making moves on your right ear. "Been dying to taste you again, once wasn't ever gonna' be enough."

Your hips bucked up into Carmy's hand as he stroked you slowly, Sydney's teeth gently gripping your earlobe. It was overwhelming, the bother of you whispering exactly what you needed to hear, working together.

They worked well together, one glimpse into the kitchen and you could tell they worked well together. But even now, the way they were touching you, talking to you- they were the perfect team.

"On the bed, sweetheart." Carmy spoke as he drew his hands from your underwear.

Sydney stepped aside to let you move, watching you kick off your jeans as you moved to the bed. She moved towards you briefly, helping you pull your shirt off over your head and throw it to the side.

As she moved back beside Carmy, you stared up at the both of them under half-lidded eyes. Carmy had stripped down to his underwear, a large hand gently palming his cock through his briefs. He moved to the end of the bed, gripping your ankle and pulling you towards him.

"Get down here, Syd." He ordered, as if they were running the pass.

She was quick to follow the order, kneeling down beside him with her hand wrapping around your other leg. They both pulled you in closer, Carmy taking the initiative to get rid of your underwear.

Sydney reached forward, her hand running up your stomach gently enough to leave goosebumps. "You're un-fucking-believable."

You laughed, just quietly, head rolling around on the mattress as they both stared at you like your next meal. Not waiting for another instruction, Sydney brought her mouth against your entrance and gave you one long lick.

Head tipping back, hips raising, your mouth flew open with a string of moans. Her tongue was unbelievable, moving across you quickly but not failing to miss a single spot.

You could feel the familiar prodding of Carmy's fingers, moving under Sydney's tongue so they could work together. Two of his thick fingers breached your entrance, curling up as Sydney's tongue kept up it's ministrations.

"That feel good, baby?" Carmy's voice snapped you back into reality. "Feel good when we share you?"

All you could do was nod, nod furiously as you rolled your hips down to feel more of their combined efforts. Your hand gently reached behind Sydney's head, pulling her in closer till you were effectively humping her face.

"Yeah, that's right- let her have it." Carmy cooed, his fingers still pumping into you whilst his other hand was pressed to his crotch.

Sydney only moaned, the vibrations hitting you straight on and sending a surge to the pit of your stomach. Carmy could feel the way you were clenching, being well versed with your body he knew exactly what was on the way.

So when you whined at the feeling of him withdrawing his fingers, he was quick to shut you up by man-handling you up the bed. "Hush, you're so fuckin' spoilt."

And you knew he was right, everything you wanted you always got it. That's why you were settled back against the pillows, watching him strip off his boxers whilst Sydney's shirt was being discarded.

You quietly slipped a hand between your legs, gathering the wetness from Sydney's spit to rub yourself. Your eyes fluttered, head tipping back into the plush bed as you watched Sydney reveal more skin to you.

"Baby can't even wait a fuckin' minute?" Carmy questioned, kneeling on the bed to grip your hips.

In a swift motion, he flipped you over. Still holding your hips, he pulled them up until you were face down with your back arched. He could always get you exactly how he wanted you.

Sydney came around the bed, sitting in front you with her hand coming to cup your jaw. "You deserve everything you want."

As she cooed at you, she leaned in just enough to press her lips against yours. You could hear the sigh from Carmy, no doubt rolling his eyes as Sydney quickly gave into you.

Sydney knew your games just as well as he did. Difference was, she didn't mind. She'd feed into you for as long as you let her.

Your mouth dropped and a moan slipped onto Sydney's tongue as you felt the head of Carmy's cock pressing against your entrance. As he eased into you, your eyes began to roll back, hands shooting out to grip Sydney's thighs.

"Want- ah fuck- want to taste you." Your voice sounded breathy and desperate.

Sydney eased herself back, legs spreading around you as you hungrily dove to get your tongue on her. Without wasting a second, you ran your tongue from her entrance to her clit and listened keenly for the sounds she made.

Looking up from under your tired eyes, you saw the blissed expression on her face. Both your arms hooked around her thighs, lips closing around her clit to suck gently.

Carmy fully sunk himself into you, giving you a second to adjust to the stretch. Soon, he was rolling his hips in a steady rhythm that was sending you even closer to Sydney's cunt.

You felt a large hand splay across your lower back, Carmy soothing you as he began to speed up. He fucked you hard, watching the way you clenched around his cock and moved your head quicker between Sydney's legs.

This is what he'd imagined, this was exactly what he'd thought of that night (and honestly, a couple of other times in the shower before work). This was a sight he could get used to.

Carmy wasn't all too keen on sharing you, he had an underlying penchant for jealousy when it came to you. But as he watched Sydney cup a hand around the back of your head, as he heard you moan directly into her core, as he watched you fuck yourself back onto him.

He figured this was definitely worth a little hit of jealousy.

Sydney's hips rolled up to meet your mouth, her backside lifting off the bed as she pulled you down against her. Quiet little whimpers of your name were drifting perfectly off her lips. Her eyes were switching between fluttering shut and fixing dreamily on you.

You could feel the hint of your release working it's way up your body. Strengthening your grip on Sydney's thighs, you pulled her in tight so you could suck at her clit, listening for what it did to her.

"Holy- fuck- oh God- I'm gonna' cum-"

Looking up at her, you found her eyes on yours. Drawing back just a little, you laid your tongue flat against her before running it up, flicking the tip of it against her clit and watching her eyes screw shut.

Sydney rode your face through her orgasm, the feeling running red hot through you. You could hear the faint sounds of Carmy talking you through it. "That's it, make her cum- you're doing so good."

His words were too much, coupled with the taste of Sydney on your tongue and the feeling of her gripping tight onto you. Your hips began to roll back against Carmy, desperately searching for the relief you needed.

Feeling his hand wrap underneath you, Carmy began stroking you towards your orgasm. His chest came to press against your back as he spoke in your ear. "Come on, baby- that's it- cum for us."

Eyes going a blinding white, you felt yourself collapsing into Sydney's lap as your orgasm overtook you. Gripping tight around Carmy, you threw your hips back against him as he pressed himself flush to you.

You felt him twitch inside you, a string of curses leaving his lips as he came for you. You felt his hot cum hitting deep inside of you, leaving you feeling completely full. All you had left to do was fall, splayed out, in the centre of the bed, totally fucked out.

Carmy was the one that cleaned you up, but it was Sydney that brought you the glass of water and tucked you up. You felt her soft kisses against your forehead and by the time you opened your eyes, you could see she was already fully dressed.

You reached out for her, grasping her hand gently before mumbling something about "we should do this again."

Faint sounds of her laughing about that with Carmy caught your ears, but the sleep was taking over too much for you to be able to understand the joke.

When Carmy joined you in bed, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you close to him, you managed one more mumble before you finally crashed out.

"You guys work really, really, well together."

#carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x gn!reader #carmen berzatto x gn!reader #sydney adamu smut #sydney adamu x reader #sydney adamu x gn!reader #the bear smut #i've tried to proof read it 100 times but i usually miss something lmfao #carmy berzatto x reader x sydney adamu #carmen berzatto x reader x sydney adamu #carmy x reader x sydney #carmy berzatto x sydney adamu

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sweetbillwriting · 5 months ago

Text

In The Dead of Night

TEN

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, I started this story long before I saw the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: FINALLY seen the movie. All similarities with the movie are accidentally. I got this idea after seeing the trailer.

I looked at Eric with pleading eyes until I heard a loud groan from Robin and how he turned on his heel to leave.

“Robin!” I shouted after him and jumped out of bed. It was a reflex to follow him because he was the one that left, but he was also my best friend. After a few seconds of searching, I found my panties on the floor and the gray tank top Eric used the night before, and then I ran after Robin through the staircase.

“Robin, please! You don't understand! I was just-”

Robin turned around in the middle of a stair while I stood on the first step.

“No! I don't understand! Because the only way I can see you have been able to get in contact with him is that you searched him up! Behind my back!”

“Yes, yes… But it was for Lotti!”

It wasn't a complete lie, but it was far from completely true either.

“For my mom? For my mom? You don't know a fuck what's best for her!”

“She misses him all the time.”

“That doesn't mean he's good for her. And neither for you! He's a fucking junkie, Della!”

"No, he's not; he's clean!”

“That's what he says to you, you fucking idiot! How many times should I say to you, addicts are manipulative assholes, and he will hurt you. I just want your best, but instead you go behind my back and fuck the trash.”

I stood quiet because I was in the wrong and didn't know what to say, but also because I didn't know much about addiction, and once again I became worried Eric was actually taking something. Had he hidden pills somewhere?

“I get that it's an exciting story with the lost son, the son who came back from an addiction, but I've seen him close to death twice now, even if he had sworn he would never do anything again. My mom doesn't need that, and I don't think you want to be near that either. You have probably seen the signs that he isn't stable, and I'm quite sure you don't want that in your life.”

I could hear Lotti's words in my head about his long periods of opiates use and the short periods of him being happy. Maybe this was a short period he was happy, and he would soon fall down in the dark pit of drugs again. Hadn't he closed the door, only ignoring it for the moment? He had said himself he thought about drugs all the time.

Robin started to walk down with slow steps, not as upset anymore, but his shoulders were slumped, and I could see a genuine worry in his body language when he dragged his hand over his face.

“Robin…” I whined but stayed on my step.

“This is just fucked up, Della. Going behind my back but also how much you will destroy for yourself…” he said with a sigh. I stayed silent and let my tears fall until I heard him walk out the entrance door. I took a deep breath because I knew now I had one more man to explain my actions to. In one way it felt easier because Eric wasn't the type to scream and make a scene, but he would be much more hurt than Robin. Robin's emotions were loud, but Eric's was big.

I met him already in the hallway, dressed in gray sweatpants and a Joy Division t-shirt that was so well used it had a big hole in the armpit. He gave me a quick look when he threw down his sports bag with his things on the floor, then he pulled on his high-top Vans.

“Eric..! I cried pathetically. Now the tears streamed heavily, and I tried to drag his body close to mine, but he either turned his back against me or pushed me away lightly.

“Please just let me explain, please!”

I didn't even know how to explain my behavior, but still I said it, just to be able to make him stay, but it didn't work because Eric just pulled on his bomber jacket. In that moment when his arms were occupied, I took my chance to hug him around his waist, hugging so hard he wouldn't be able to go away.

“Della…”

He tried to sound bored and irritated, but I could only hear the tears in his throat.

“Please Eric, just let me explain.”

I tied my fingers together around his back to make it harder for him to push me away, but I noticed at once I didn't need to worry about that; Eric was too kind to push me hard. Instead, he let his arms hang by his side while he stood with his eyes closed. I looked at him and dried my own tears from my cheeks and wondered if he would cry, but he just took a deep breath until he spoke again.

“I want to go now, Delilah.”

“No! Let us go back to bed; please just let us talk!” I rambled in my panic and tried to make him move towards the bedroom. I was stupid for believing that. Eric's body was just muscles, and he wouldn't move an inch if he didn't want to.

“I don't want to talk. I want to go...”

He really tried sounding determined and hard, like he could do to Odin, but he just sounded like a broken boy.

“Eric, I want to explain-”

For the first time during our conversation, he looked at me. His beautiful big green eyes were full of tears, but he blinked them away and looked down at me again.

“I don't want to talk because it doesn't matter anyway. Everything between us is a lie; you have gone behind my back, and I guess the stalking Jackie talked about was also true then-”

“No, no! Let me explain!” I cried pathetically and hugged him even harder.

“No, Della. Let me go.” He looked at me seriously while a tear crawled its way down his porcelain skin. “Just let me go.”

I looked straight into his eyes while tear after tear swam down his cheeks. I cried loudly instead, like a kid losing its favorite stuffy. I wanted to continue to hold him, only letting him go when everything was okay again, but not even I knew how we would get past this. I was a stalker, a liar, and hadn't respected his boundaries. Eric was an addict, but that was his only flaw. He deserved something better.

Hyperventilating with tears, I let him go slowly, and he took the trunk standing on the floor and wiped away his tears on his cheeks. I hoped he would give me a final kiss, a hug, and say that we could stay in touch, but he just walked out of my apartment and closed the door behind him silently. I continued my hyperventilating cries, and it became worse when I realized I had one thing more to tell him. I opened the door fast and could hear his slow steps down the stairs and a sniffle. I took a deep breath through my pained lungs and shouted:

“I love you most in the entire world!”

×××

Desiree dragged her fingers through my hair, even if it was greasy. I had been lying in bed for six days, and both me and my bedroom smelled like sweat and stale air. I didn't notice the smell, though, because I was just thinking about Eric. A bit about Robin too, but mostly about Eric. I loved him so much it felt like my body had shut down, and for short moments I wondered if I would be able to function again.

“I get that you're sad over Eric and Robin and everything, but laying here just makes it worse…”

Desiree just knew that Eric was Robin's brother, and I had approached him without Robin's consent. She didn't know why Eric had broken up with me too, but she probably created her own story about all of it.

“You can talk to Robin. He will probably understand. I mean, it's just his brother. It was a stupid thing for you to do, but it is only his brother. Such things happen.”

I sighed deeply and closed my eyes even harder. It wasn't as easy as Desiree believed, and hearing her talk so lightly about it just made my chest ache even harder.

“Can't you come on a walk with me at least? You will feel better when you go out.”

I did what she said. I don't even know why; maybe it was just nice someone else made a decision for me. I wore Eric's big hoodie over a pair of leggings with my nose down in the collar to smell the little scent of him that was left on it. Desiree looked at me while I did it and sighed.

“He's really nice but don't you think this is for the best? You're so different from each other. I always thought you wanted a more ambitious guy who could afford traveling with you.”

She was right; I had dreams about traveling all the time, meanwhile Eric had problems even affording a visit to my hometown, but money wasn't everything. He was.

“I don't want that anymore…” I said with a small voice.

“You feel that now because you two just broke up, but I know how much you like to travel. He works as a part-time janitor. It doesn't sound like he can even afford a trip to New York.”

I dug my hands deeper into the pocket of the hoodie. It was too early for her to diss Eric. Maybe in a few weeks it could be comforting, but I doubted even that. Talking shit about Eric was what weak, prejudiced people did. He was the kindest soul and did his best in life.

“What about Dante? I mean, I've seen on Instagram that he's still single and you two were-”

“God! This shit about Dante! He's an asshole!” I groaned loudly. My whole family was obsessed with the thought of me and Dante, even if I had said so many times he was an asshole.

“I know you could nag sometimes, but all couples do that, and you were so perfect for-”

“No! Can you please back off? I never ever want to be close to him again!”

“Because he complained about your clothes sometimes? Every partner you have had has complained about your clothes!”

My style was eclectic, theatrical, and sometimes ultra-sexy. I was a vintage girl, but I also liked some drama, and every partner I have had has either complained about the length of my skirt or the size of my hat. Everyone except Eric. That wasn't the reason I hated Dante, though.

“Yes! Because he complained about my clothes!”

Desiree made a smacking sound with her tongue, like she thought I was silly.

“So? He was handsome, stable, rich, sweet…”

While Desiree continued to enumerate everything good with Dante, I looked at my phone that was ringing. It was an unknown number, and in regular situations I wouldn't have answered, but now I did just to make Desiree shut up.

“Hey, it's Nick... Uhm…”

“Hi?” I said confused but also nervously. I wondered if he would shout at me for breaking Eric's heart, but it didn't really sound like he was mad.

“I know you and Eric have broken up, but I think you should come? He's a mess, and I'm afraid he will do something stupid. Please Della?” Nick said pleadingly. He didn't need to say more than that, I stood up at once and gave Desiree a look. She looked back at me, confused.

“I will be there as soon as I can.”

×××

I had hoped a reason would arise where I could go to Eric, but him feeling so awful that Nick felt forced to call me wasn't what I wanted. Nick told me he, John, and Granny had watched him in shifts because they didn't know what he could do in his anxiety. They had started to watch him after Granny had seen the prominent blue imprint of a belt around his neck, and he had asked for Granny’s anxiety medication he knew he had.

Together, Nick and Granny had locked away every sharp object or thing he could strangle himself with, in a wardrobe, even if Eric said they were silly. They didn't dare to take any risks because they knew Eric had an impulsive side that could come out when you least expected.

I borrowed mom and dad's car again, and my tears streamed down my cheeks while I was driving. Of course I could see why he wasn't boyfriend material. He used drugs and self harm to cope with life when I had the plan to be an adult and travel with my safe boyfriend. Eric handled everything in life turning against himself and was far from being safe. Still, I didn't want anyone else, and even if he didn't want me, I would stand by his side.

I had packed some things, ready to stay if it was needed, but left the bag in the car. I didn't know if Eric actually wanted me there, and it would maybe provoke him if it seemed like I thought I would stay. Instead, I walked up to his apartment with just my phone and keys in his hoodie's pocket and pushed the doorbell with a deep exhalation.

It was Nick who opened the door, dressed in a white tank and black sweats.

“Hey,” he just said, and let me go into Eric's apartment. I gave him a little strained smile and stopped awkwardly in the hallway. It didn't feel right to just go in when Eric had asked me to leave him alone the last time we saw each other.

“He's in bed; maybe you can talk to him?” Said Nick, who scratched his jaw uncomfortably.

I nodded a little and moved into the room at once. Standing next to Nick in the hallway felt just awkward, and it felt better to just go to Eric.

I could see long pale legs sticking out under the black cover and a tattooed back. His black hair melted into the pillow. I didn't know if he knew I was there, if he was sleeping, so I just sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for signs he was ready for my presence. He seemed to be sleeping, so I moved the cover away from his neck and saw the angry bruise on his skin. It wasn't just black and blue but there were also wounds where the leather had penetrated his skin. It really looked like someone had tried to decapitate him.

“Oh god…” I whispered to myself. “Have you cleaned the wound? It looks awful.”

I looked at Nick, who leaned against the armrest of the couch.

“Ehm… No…” he said guiltily. “He wouldn't accept that anyway. You really believe he would let me clean his wounds?”

I sighed and dragged my fingers through the back of Eric's greasy mullet. To touch him was a reflex, but it caused him to wake up, and he looked at me with heavy eyes. He had a longer stubble that didn't match his raven colored hair.

“Hey…” I said softly, but I could feel the nerves in my chest.

He looked at me for a few seconds, then turned his back to me. I stared at his broad back hurt and then at Nick, who smiled at me disappointedly and stood up.

“Do you want coffee?” He asked me.

I furrowed my brows in confusion.

“I think I should go?”

“That easily? I thought you loved him?” Asked Nick with a bit of attitude. It was obvious he was protective of Eric.

“Yes but… He doesn't want me here?”

“He doesn't want me here either. So, coffee?”

I looked between Nick and the back of Eric.

“Yes, thank you.”

The two of us sat on the couch while Eric continued to sleep in the bed. We didn't say anything because there wasn't that much to say. I knew Nick wouldn't ask what happened between me and Eric, and I wouldn't tell until I really must. After 45 minutes of us just staring between the window, our phones, and Eric's back, he turned around and looked at us. His eyes were tired and sad, and at once I had a bad conscience. Was it me who had destroyed him like this?

Nick stood up and walked to the kitchen when he noticed that Eric just looked at me, and I took a deep breath. I didn't know what would happen, even if I knew Eric wasn't the angry type. He looked at me with big eyes that just became more and more shiny.

“I miss my mom…” he suddenly said with a wobbly voice and let himself cry without restraint.

“Hey, hey…” I said with a beating heart, broken of seeing him like that. I ran up to the bed and sat down next to him and hugged him.

“You can be with your mom, you know.”

Eric shook his head and took a deep breath. He laid down on his back and pushed his hands against his eyes.

“I have pain everywhere…” he whispered, and I nodded just a little and started to pat his chest. I didn't know if it would be okay, but I knew that if he had anxiety, it was where the pain started.

“Harder…”

I patted harder, in a circle. It made Eric remove his hands from his face and look at me. We didn't say anything; we just looked into each other's eyes while I patted.

“I lost my job…” He said after a few minutes.

“No, why?” I said with an empathetic voice, but it seemed to just make everything worse, and his face shrank up because of new tears.

“I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

“I forgot I needed to go to work.”

It was typically him, especially when his emotions went wild. I nodded in response and continued to pat his chest.

“I can't do anything right…”

"Yes, you can! You're so great, baby.”

I felt awful hearing him talk about himself like that and laid down next to him and steered his face against mine. He looked between my eyes and lips, and I moved closer to him, encouraging him to kiss me, but he looked away.

“Delilah…” He paused and looked up at the ceiling before he turned his gaze to me. He shook his head a little, but I couldn't interpret what he wanted to say.

“It's broken between you and me. It's broken…” He turned his eyes away from me again and closed them tightly. I laid and looked at his perfect profile and felt my chest start to hurt in a similar way Eric's probably did.

“But… But you need me...” I whispered. Eric didn't say anything, even if I crawled closer to him, kissing his earlobe and patting his cheek.

Eric breathed heavily and licked his cracked lips.

“I just… I don't feel well at all…”

He said, and let me continue to touch his face. I nodded fast, eager to just make him feel better.

“We could talk if I felt better…” he whispered, and he laid his cheek heavy in my hand. My heart beated faster now; the thought of him being able to talk to me and give me another chance took over everything else. I could do anything for him to forgive me.

He looked at me with big, green, soulful eyes and I knew I would do anything for him, especially when his eyes started to swim with tears.

“I saw something at your place when I was there... You still have pain medications for your shoulder, right? If I could just get a couple so my chest pains would stop…” His tears ran down his cheeks again, and I wiped them away with my thumbs. “Just three or four, it wouldn't make a difference? It's just for now.”

I didn't even know that I'd left the morphine pills so he could find them and admired him for not having taken anything. Maybe he could just take a couple? Just now when he didn't feel well?

“Please Della… It feels like I will die, please...” He cried, and he made me nod a little, even if I hadn't really thought it through.

“Yeah?” He said it with a small, hopeful smile. It was the first smile he had given me that day, and it was so precious I couldn't stop myself from just smiling back.

“Yeah,” I said and nodded a little.

“Can you get them now?” he asked eagerly. His eagerness made me doubt my decision, but I had too bad a conscience to take my words back. He would never talk to me if it seemed like I played with him.

I nodded at his question, and he hugged my hand in his as a thank you. I squeezed it back a little bit too long but then stood up, walking out to the hallway. I prepared myself for Nick's questions because I knew he wouldn't get me. He seemed to believe Eric was a lost case, but it was me who had been with him the most the last few months, and I knew this was just now. He would see it was just now he would take the pills.

“Are you going now?” Nick asked, confused, when I was almost at the door.

“I will be back.”

“Okay? I just thought you felt he was more important,” he said with a shoulder shrug.

“I do!” It angered me that he even said such a thing. “I just need to get something.”

Nick looked at me up and down and stopped at my eyes. I couldn't look at him, so I looked away, and it was obvious enough for him to understand.

“You're going to give him drugs!”

“No!”

“You're going to get him drugs!”

“No! I just-”

“Are you so fucking slow that you would give an addict drugs! Huh??”

“I'm sorry!” I cried and dragged Eric's hoodie sleeve over my eyes. “I just want him to stop being in pain!”

“Why did I even call you?? You're just a naive little girl! Get the fuck out of here before you've destroyed him completely!”

I ugly cried from shame but also terror of seeing Nick that angry. I turned on my heel and ran out the door, down the stairs as fast as I could. It felt like Nick was chasing me even if I knew he wasn’t.

I jumped into my car while sobbing. First I just felt sorry for myself, for evil Nick had destroyed everything, but it didn't take a long time before I realized what I'd almost done.

I think about drugs all the time.

I could hear Eric's voice in my head and thought about how he had told me how much he still dreamt about drugs. If I had given him it, what would have happened then? I wanted to believe it would just be that time, but not even I was that stupid in reality. I just couldn't stand hearing him cry in pain.

I was a naive little girl, and Nick did the right thing by throwing me out. Everyone made it sound like Eric wasn't good for me, but everything pointed to how it was the other way around.

×××

Three days later, Robin agreed to meet me on the bench outside of the salon. He had Odin with him, who was much happier to see me than Robin was. I cuddled with him for a while even if Robin was waiting, but even he knew it would be calmer if Odin just got his attention. When I sat down on the bench, Robin gave me an unexpected first question.

“So it's Eric that has started to raise him?” He looked at Odin, who had laid down on the ground in a way he wouldn't have done some months ago. I shrugged my shoulders and swallowed hard.

“I guess so. He's really good with animals, and Odin really-”

“I know he's good with animals; even our dog Max loved him more than me.”

I laid my head to the side and gave him a sympathetic look.

“No one loved him more than you.”

“Yes, my parents, our relatives, even the dog! I had only my uncle on my side. Otherwise, it was so much about Eric all the time!”

“Don't you think that's from your perspective, because he was the adopted son?”

Robin made an irritated sound and shook his head.

“The apartment he has now is his first home. Did you know that? He lived as a parasite on mom and dad all the time-”

“Don't call him that; he has had a tough life.” I tried to say it softly, but it still provoked Robin.

“He lived on the streets as long as he thought it was fun then he-”

“No one thinks it's fun to live on the street! Come on!” I was annoyed now because Robin really tried to own the narrative, even if it all was completely unbelievable.

“He did! Then he came home to mom and dad, and they needed to save him! It was me who fucking forced mom to get him into rehab! She couldn't take care of him when dad just died! And Eric didn't do anything else than get eaten up by heroin until he overdosed! Some nice son there!” He more or less shouted now, and I wanted to hush him because of his harsh words, but then he would probably get quiet instead.

“So your dad died and Eric overdosed because of it?”

“Oh shut the fuck up. That wasn't the reason.”

I sighed and dragged my hands over my face.

“But you took him to rehab then? It was nice of you, Robin. You might have saved his life.” I tried to talk to his more human side, and it seemed to work because he took a deep breath.

“Yes, but it was totally fruitless. And now he did it again.”

I furrowed my brows in confusion. Eric hadn't OD’d since I got to know him...

“You remember when I said my uncle had hit his head and gotten into a coma? It was he who was in a coma. Eric. Everyone thought he would die. Can you understand now why he isn't good for you? He has been clean for like half a year.”

I didn't listen to the last part of what he said. I just thought about where I was in life when Eric was close to death. I was dreaming. About him.

My Eric. My dream man.

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