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butchcarmy · 8 months ago

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Blood Orange (Ch 2: The Bathroom)

Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18, MDNI)

Rating: E (5.7k)

links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 1

Chapter Summary: No more fucking your boss. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but he doesn’t make it easy, even as you find yourself wanting to scream. Somehow it all falls away when you lower yourself to your knees before him. You don’t know if there’s any stopping this anymore.

Content Tags: work sex, blow jobs, mouth fucking, CUM PLAY, dom/bossy carmy, coworkers with benefits, carmy being difficult, mental illness, they/them reader, gender neutral reader, the usual

A/N: WHEW. It’s here! Thanks for waiting y’all. I think I embarrassed myself writing this one (flushed emoji). It’s ramping up. Next chapter is gonna be big one. Let me know what you guys think, and enjoy! <3

Before you go to work the next morning, you make yourself come on your fingers. It would've been twice if you had more time.

You open your eyes waking from a dream with his ghostly blue eyes and low voice, and you already know you're wet before you even touch yourself. The pads of your reaching fingers chase the tender spot Carmy stroked inside of you, but they don't quite make it. Of course they don't.

Fingering yourself eases the ache for a little while. On the early morning transit with headphones over your ears, you still manage to find yourself aching for him. The music doesn't cover up the sound of his voice, and you catch yourself grimacing in the faint reflection of the dirty metro windows.

This is not a good way to start your second day at work.

Since you left the walk-in yesterday, Carmy's been following you around like a mosquito in the summer, whizzing around your head, buzzing in your ears. You can't rid your thoughts of him. When you close your eyes, you're trapped in the fridge with him, again, and his fingers are deep inside you.

Fuck. You're standing in front of the restaurant, willing yourself to go in. Just stop it, you think to yourself.

You really should be more mad at him. He technically never apologized for insulting you, but you suppose you didn't expect him to in the first place. You didn't usually get apologies at places like this, from people like him. You don't want to get in the bad habit of expecting good things from broken people.

No more fucking your boss, you think resolutely to yourself, and that's the thought you meditate on as you open the door.

By this time yesterday, there were already a couple of people floating around the kitchen. Today, you find dim lights and silence. Your footsteps feel too loud on the white linoleum as you walk to the lockers to drop off your stuff. You can’t pretend to understand the schedule yet.

“Carmen?” You pace around again as you secure your apron with a tie. No response. Surely he's here, at least. Someone had to open the place.

You take a couple more steps when you hear his voice.

“No, I'm not—that's not what I was sayin’.” The direction of his voice sounds like it's coming from his office. “Of course I miss him. Sugar—” A pause. “I know. Yeah. It's bullshit.” He laughs then, you think. You can't measure how genuine it is. “You're bullshit. Look, I'll call you back later, okay? And I'll—yeah, I'll look at it. Promise. Yeah. Bye.”

It's quiet after that. You're standing there, not sure what to do with yourself when you hear footsteps. Sure enough, Carmy pops out of the office, and you catch just a glimpse of something haunted in him before surprise takes over.

“Hi,” you say at the same time he says, “Jesus Christ.”

“How long have you been here,” he asks, as you go, “That's an interesting way to pronounce my name.”

“Um,” you start, and he stares at you blankly, unreactive to your joke. Too early, you guess. “I just got here.”

“Okay. Cool. Uh…” Anxiety radiates off of him, making his hands fidget and run through untamed hair. Not that you were looking at his hands at all. “You’ll be doin’ prep again.”

“Alright.” You expected as such. You’ll probably be on prep for the rest of the week, if not the month. That’s how most places go, but this isn’t most places.

“Your station was dirty when you left yesterday.” You walk up to your station, and it’s spotless. “I had to clean it before I left.”

“Ah. I’m sorry about that,” you apologize quickly. I was preoccupied with other things, you think bitterly to yourself, thinking of locked doors and heated kisses. Not that you’ll mention it. “I’ll make sure to clean it this time.”

“Prep’s gonna be a bit different today,” he says, completely ignoring your apology. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping. “You’re gonna inspect produce, and then you’ll prep the stock again. Correctly this time.”

“It was nearly perfect, I just misplaced it,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah, nearly.” Looks like he heard you this time. Asshole. He places a box of onions on your station, rattling the table slightly. “Do I have to tell you how to sort out the bad ones from the good ones?” You’re honestly not sure if he means that as a jab, but the way he says it makes your insides sizzle with irritation.

Don’t take it personally, you remind yourself. Don’t. Take. It. Personally.

“How about you show me just in case? Just so we’re on the same page.” It’s a wonder how calm you keep your voice. To your surprise, Carmy doesn’t roll his eyes, doesn’t sigh, he just nods and proceeds. Every time you think you’ll predict him properly, he does the opposite.

You follow the line of his callused finger pointing to brown splotches on some of the onions. Intently, studiously, you examine the dark spots (indicative of mold), the sprouts (initial stages of deterioration), and the mushy areas (a sign of decreasing freshness). He’s talking about details as he seems to do when it comes to food, even elaborating on the farming process, but you don’t quite pick up that part. You just pay attention to the parameters you need to follow.

No more fucking your boss, you remind yourself again, because you catch yourself aching at the sight of his fingers. Your eyes have a hunger of their own, flickering up and down his muscular arms. God damnit. Maybe there’s another reason you can’t quite pay attention today.

“Are you listening?” Carmy’s pointed question snaps you out of it. Fuck. You hope he didn’t catch you staring at his fingers again.

“If I can save it and just chop off the bad parts, then I should,” you regurgitate on instinct. “Those are the best ones to use for the stock. Otherwise, I should just toss it.”

For a split second, all he does is fix you with his focused stare. You feel the intensity of it in your chest, your beating heart fluttering with its weight. No matter how many times you scold yourself for finding him attractive, your eyes can’t ignore what’s right in front of them. You find yourself counting his moles.

“I caught you staring,” he murmurs, “for real this time.”

“I—uh—” Your eyebrows are so raised you’re sure they’re bound to shoot off your warmed face. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. You weren’t going to mention yesterday, and after your first interaction this morning, you were sure he wasn’t going to, either. Guess you were wrong again.

“I’ll be in the back if you need help. The others should be here soon.” He’s moving on without giving you a chance to recover. Your brain can’t process the shock. “Just call if you need anything."

Before you get a chance to scrounge up anything to say, you’re alone in the kitchen again.

This time I'm really gonna do it, you fume internally. Because you have a healthy amount of anger management, you don’t let yourself continue that thought.

Sydney is the third person to show up after you and Carmy. You give her a nod and a thin smile as she walks in, and she waves back. Soon after she arrives, the others trickle in one by one. As you're learning to expect, the quiet never lasts for long.

There are tasks circling you just like yesterday that you don't fully grasp yet. Everyone seems to be instinctively following their own schedule, their circadian rhythm matched to the chaotic ecosystem of the kitchen. It’s just as suffocating as it was yesterday. You remind yourself that as a new hire, you don't need to understand the madness yet. Nonetheless, an invisible pressure presses down on you.

“Hey, d'you mind telling me where this produce goes?” A triple stack of filled containers sits heavy in your arms. With Sydney out of the kitchen, Marcus is your next safest option in terms of coworkers. His head flicks up from where he was focused on kneading dough. A streak of white flour is across his nose.

“Oh, that one's bottom shelf, near the back.” He claps his dusty hands together, flour falling between them like snow. “Here, I'll just show you. You know where the walk-in is?”

With Marcus, it doesn't feel like there are any stupid questions. It's a gift you don't take for granted, especially around here. You let him lead you to the fridge again, even though you remember where it is. It doesn't hurt.

“Thanks. I'm, uh, still having a hard time figuring out where stuff goes,” you say after you put the produce away.

“It’s cool. It's only your second day, right?” You nod. “Just takes time. Don't sweat it. You ever work in a restaurant before?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“Then you know what you're gettin’ into.” That makes you laugh.

“Sorta.” You shrug. “To be honest with you, I just need money, and I like cooking enough, so…now I'm here.” You're not quite as honest with how desperate your situation was on the verge of coming, but it's fine. Not really the time and place for it anyway.

“I gotcha. That's how it was for me too, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Well, that's how I started at McDonald’s. That was a while ago now.”

“I see. It's better here, I hope.”

“Hard to say,” he says, but there's a little smile on his face. “For the most part, Michael was cool, but—”

“Michael!” You blurt out, startling the both of you. “Holy shit, I'm sorry. I've just been trying to remember the name of the previous owner for forever now and—wow, sorry. I didn't mean to shout.”

“It's fine.” Marcus has this amused expression, but it dissolves quickly. “You met him?”

“I did. I came here a couple of years ago when I first moved. Just once, but—anyway, what's his deal?”

“His deal?”

“Yeah, like, why'd he give the restaurant away? Carmy said he didn't want it anymore.”

“Oh.” You can't read the way Marcus’ face shifts. “That's what he said?”

“...Yeah?”

“I see. Okay. Uh…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know how this sounds, but just try not to bring Mike up for now. It's still kind of a sore subject.”

“Ah, my bad.” Your brain instantly supplies stories of estranged families, sibling spats, and stolen money. You suppose it's a sour sort of relationship—something you're intimately familiar with. “Can I ask what happened, or…?”

“I'll tell you later,” he replies evasively. “You know what else they got you training on today?”

“No idea,” you answer honestly. The nosy part of you wants to hear more about the Berzatto family, but the responsible part of you reminds you to cool your jets. “Carmy just told me I was on produce. Know where he's at? I peeked into his office, but he wasn't there.”

“Oh, he just left.” Your blank stare makes him elaborate. “He's off doing Carmy things.”

“Doing Carmy things?” Looks like the person in charge has abandoned you yet again.

“Business stuff, probably.” Marcus shrugs. “He does that sometimes. He probably won't be back for a while, so I can help you with training for now if you want.”

“That would be great.” There's a remark on the tip of your tongue about poor management, but you hold it. “Is Carmy a better boss, at least?”

“Compared to Michael?” You recognize sadness in Marcus’ pinched brows, even if it's only momentary. “I dunno. It hasn't been long, but this place has been running more smoothly since he started doing things.” Your shocked expression makes him laugh briefly. “I know, it used to be worse if you can believe it.”

“I'm not sure that I can,” you admit.

. . . . .

The next several days at work continue to test your patience. While Carmy keeps you on prep, keeping your tasks simple, he continues to find ways to keep you on edge. You stiffen up every time he enters the kitchen, waiting for him to point out yet another mistake.

Chef, this cut's too uneven. Chef, you're taking too much time on this. Chef, you should’ve cut this part off. Chef, you’re creating too much waste.

Yes, Chef, you always reply, even as his comments become more and more grating. A childish part of you wants to do a worse job out of spite, but another part of you is hungry for his approval far more than you would ever admit. You wonder if he's this tough on everyone.

The incident in the walk-in does not get mentioned again. A childish voice in you wonders if Carmy has forgotten about it. Of course he hasn’t, but every time he critiques you, you wonder about the Carmy who kissed you. You wonder what that Carmy's thinking, because you have no clue.

Has he been thinking of you, too?

This is how things should be, you remind yourself after you touch yourself for the fourth night in a row to the thought of him. Your fingers are wet, and your wrist is embarrassingly sore. I can't have sex with my boss again. I just can't.

Would it be different if he also touched himself to thoughts of you?

You desperately suck your own cum off your fingers, and you wish it were his fingers instead. It doesn't taste the same.

The bright lights are irritatingly bright when you come in this morning. It looks like you're the first person here again, other than Carmy. You hear his irritated voice as soon as you enter, which is clearly a good sign.

“I appreciate you thinking of me, I do. I do. It's just—” He sighs. Looks like he's having another phone call. “I can't come back. Not right now.” Silence. “No, uh, won't happen for a while, I think. The place's fucked.” A shaky breath. “What? What did you say?

“The head chef asked about me?” Carmy's voice has gone tight. “I see. Of course he said that. No, it's fine.” Pause. “...I know what they've been saying. I figured they'd look down on me.” His laugh is hollow and painful. “Look, I got shit to do. Thanks for asking me, but it's a no. I can't.” Another pause, drawn out and tense. “Sure. Bye.”

After he hangs up, you hear him muttering to himself. You can't pick out any of the words other than the curses, but it sounds bad. As you put your things away, you silently pray to the abstract idea of a god to give you both strength of patience. Seems like you'll need it today.

“Morning,” you tentatively greet him when he sees you. He's not surprised by your presence today, it seems. He nods back.

“Morning.” His eyebags are dark with a lack of sleep. Upon closer inspection, his whole everything screams sleep deprivation, perhaps a bit more so than usual. His messy hair seems particularly unkempt today. “You're doing prep again today.”

“I figured.”

“You need to get better about cleaning your station.” His words are full to the brim with irritation. “I keep having to clean it after you.”

“I thought I was—” You stop. Calm down, you think, but it's getting harder and harder to repeat. “Sorry. I didn't realize.”

“I told you the other day that it was dirty. Were you even paying attention?”

“Of course I was!” Annoyance bubbles over inside of you, potent and unbridled. Carmy barely reacts to your raised voice. Somehow, that pisses you off more. The cap on your contained anger has popped off, and there's no fitting it back on. “Are you always like this towards your employees?”

“Like what?”

“Like an asshole?” You're too irritated to hold yourself back.

“Depends. Are you always like this with your boss?” He retorts immediately.

“I don't usually have sex with my boss, so no, I suppose not,” you respond stupidly, and that makes him go dead silent. He narrows his eyes, fixes you with his gaze. Like you're a new problem that needs solving or something like that.

God damnit, you think to yourself. Why'd you have to say that?

“You've been thinking about it.” The air feels thicker, suddenly.

“I never said that.”

“Then why did you mention it?” Shit. “You said you were going to do better.”

“And I have been. I've been trying to do everything you've been telling me to do.” You don't know why you take a step towards him. “You said you were gonna be nicer.”

“And I have been,” he echoes, and his sincerity makes you roll your eyes.

“Bullshit! You've been nit-picking me all week!”

“We have standards here, and you need to learn how to follow them. That's all.”

“You're right! I'm learning,” you argue, throwing exasperated hands up in the air. “Cut me some fucking slack!”

“Then learn. Improve.” He slams a hand down on the aluminum surface next to you, enclosing you partially in. Being this close to him, you can really see how dark his dark circles are. You could easily move to the side if you wanted to, but something in you stays put. “There's no excuse for a dirty workspace in a kitchen. I thought you would know that already.”

“I'm so fucking sorry, chef,” you spit back with about as much venom as you can muster. Which, right now, is a lot.

That shifts something inside him. You see it flash across his face—surprise, anger, and then…something else.

“Dirty work station and a dirty mouth,” he murmurs. His voice is lower, quieter, and it sounds just like how it did in the walk-in. You hate how that change instantly makes your heart pick up speed. “You think you get a pass to act like this because of what happened in the walk-in?”

“You motherfucker,” you hiss, meeting his glare with your own. “So now you're going to acknowledge it? And for the record, I get to act however the fuck I want. Especially with someone like you.”

“Someone like me.” He doesn't ask you to elaborate. He just laughs, breathy and condescending, and he's so close you can feel his breath fan across your face. “You think you're above all this, don't you?”

“What?” The question takes you so off guard that it almost dissipates the strange mix of anger and arousal simmering in your gut.

“I know it doesn't feel good to have to take orders from someone you hate, but here's the thing. You have to.” He's not smiling, but you swear he's getting some sort of sick satisfaction from all this. Why else would he be saying any of this shit?

“I could leave right now if I wanted to,” you threaten him. “You won't be able to find anyone else that wants to work in this shithole of a place.”

“You're right. You could leave if you really wanted to.” His eyes narrow curiously at you. “Then why haven't you?”

You’re well within your right to leave already—it checks all the boxes. Chaotic work environment. Awful management. General workplace misconduct. Unprofessionalism between coworkers. You suppose you're partially to blame for that last one, but still.

If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you told yourself. You're not sure why you're not listening to your own advice. The simple truth of the matter, though, is that other jobs won't have him. They won't have the man that's been keeping you up at night, the man that you want to simultaneously devour and destroy. They won't have Carmen Berzatto, and for some reason, that's all it's going to take.

You don't understand yourself. It scares you, but not enough. Not enough to leave.

“...I don't know why I haven't left yet,” you say quietly after a while. “I have no clue.”

“I see.” If he's dissatisfied with your answer, he doesn't show it. “Then for the time you're here, let's make one thing clear.”

“What is it now?” You sigh.

“I'm in charge here,” he whispers. His other hand is on the counter now. You're completely blocked in. “I'm the one who runs this place, so you're going to be good and listen to me when I speak.”

“You're not really giving me a lot of incentive, chef.” You lower your gaze to the counters next to you. “Maybe if you gave me something to work with.” You don't mean for it to come out as suggestive as it does, but with him surrounding you like this…

“Incentive?” He brings a hand to your face, tucking his fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back to him. His touch is achingly gentle, but it forces it to look straight into his eyes. Your fidgety gaze catches glances of the dark blue speckles that border his pale iris. “Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart's pounding like sprinting feet thudding on concrete. You can't place what feelings are excitement or anxiety or both, but maybe no separation exists. Shutting your eyes was a weak attempt to temporarily block him out, but now all you can focus on is the sensation of his rough hand on your hot face.

Hesitantly, you open your eyes to face him. Ice blue and dark circles. His intense stare is difficult to match, but you try.

“What do you want from me?” You ask quietly.

“I want you to clean your station. Think you can do that?”

“Don't patronize me. Of course I can. I just—happened to forget.”

“Hm.” He smiles briefly. It's just a bit mocking. “You don't have a good track record so far, so you'll have to prove it to me.”

“...And how would I do that?”

“Depends,” he replies vaguely. “Depends on what you want.”

“What I want? I thought you were supposed to be in charge.”

“When I touched you, you told me you wanted to touch me.” The realization clicks in your head. “Do you still want that?”

You hesitate. Memories of the walk-in flood in. You remember the silhouette of his tight jeans over his bulge, and you ache. You shouldn't say yes. You really shouldn't. A distant voice says, you don't want to do this. What have you been telling yourself? This is a bad idea.

Unfortunately, it's far past a matter of want anymore. It's a matter of need.

“Yes,” you whisper back. Your fate is sealed. “I do.”

That's how you find yourself in the cramped bathroom with him. It's dark with one of the lightbulbs having gone out, making it feel even smaller. An eerie green cast coats the room.

“You're going to show me that you can listen. That you can clean up after your messes.” He's leaned up against the wall, broad hands unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes shamelessly zero in on the motion. “Think you can do that much?”

“Of course I can,” you reply, but it comes out a lot softer than intended.

“Good.” You force your eyes away from the outline of his bulge in his boxers to look at his face. His darkened eyes are trained on you. “Get on your knees.”

Oh, you think. So this is how it's gonna go.

You wish you could say that you hesitate even a little bit, that there’s even a shred of contemplation left in you. However, there isn't any of that remaining. Obediently, you fall to your knees, resting them against the cold, hard bathroom floor. You're at eye level with his unbuttoned jeans. Slowly, you raise your eyes to look at him.

His downturned face is framed by wild strands of hair. Looking down at you casts darker shadows across his face, but not enough to hide his expression. It's an odd mix of hunger and what you think to be admiration. Surely not, but that's immediately the thought that comes to mind.

“Waiting for directions, chef,” you murmur.

“Mm. Right,” he says, like he was lost in thought. “You look better like this.”

“Watch it,” you warn him. “I could still bite your dick off.” To that, he just briefly smiles, and then it's gone.

He's pulled his black pants down just enough to let his clothed bulge hang over the waistband. The sight of it goes straight to the simmer starting in your gut. You watch his veined hand disappear into his boxers. He's doing this far too slowly for your taste.

Finally, he pulls out his cock, nearly completely stiffened, and you can't deny the way you begin to salivate.

You were right. It's big, though not just in length. His cock is thick. You immediately know you won't be able to take the full length of him into your mouth, but what fits is going to be a stretch. You're already imagining how those bulging veins are going to feel against the flat of your tongue.

“Use your mouth for something other than talking back to me. Make me come,” Carmy orders quietly. “Enough direction for you?”

“Shut the hell up,” you mutter, ignoring the feeling of the growing heat inside you, and you pull the reddened, shiny tip of his cock between your lips.

His pre-come mixes with the saliva on your tongue. You savor the taste of his salty musk, suckling slowly, and you hear him exhale shakily above you. Looks like you've been given something of an opportunity to get him back for the walk-in. Not repayment—payback. The distinction is important.

When you pull back, thin strings of spit connect the pink head to your glistening lips. One of your hands moves to hold the base of his cock as you close the gap again. You drag your tongue down the side of his length, licking the thick vein you were eyeing earlier. You feel him twitch.

“Do that again,” he breathes. Without question, your tongue retraces its path, running back over the line of spit it created. That gets you a quiet, strangled moan, and it's music to your ears.

“Is this part sensitive?” You ask as you stroke the vein with your thumb. You suck your way down the vein again, making small, wet seals of pleasure.

“Somewhat.” He sounds good like this, breathless and flustered. A smile twitches on your lips. You lick across the inside of your hand, wetting it before lazily curling it around his cock. He slides effortlessly in your grasp.

“You gonna come already?” You can't help but tease. He's surprisingly reactive, more so than you would've thought. It's not that you're complaining—it's not that at all. The sound of his low groans is making you drip.

“Hah—no. You'll have to work harder than that.” You feel a hand pushing back your hair, and that makes you raise your head towards him. His touch is surprisingly gentle. You watch the movement of his lips when he speaks. “Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue.”

You can't quite figure out what it is about all of this that makes you submit. Just moments ago, you wanted to wring your hands around his throat. It was far too easy to abandon your anger and kneel in front of him. Maybe it's the incomprehensibly part of you that undeniably needs his validation. Maybe it's the soft, low tone of his voice, gentle yet commanding. Either way, it has you obeying with a thought in your mind.

You do as he says. You part your lips and extend your tongue. As your eyes flutter upwards towards him, you're struck with the impression that you must look obscene.

“Perfect,” he whispers, and just the one word sends something of a euphoric rush through you. “Doin’ so good for me.”

You soak up the praise, basking in the warmth of it. Then, Carmy spits onto your tongue, and his saliva slides towards the back of your mouth.

You can't hide your surprise. Your breath hitches, but you don't say anything. Fuck, that should've made you angry, but it just made your clit throb painfully hard.

He drags his thumb down your tongue, slow and sensual. You have half the mind to suck on it until he glides the head of his cock on your tongue, leading it into the heat of your mouth.

“Ah—” You lose the words you were going to say, along with the empty space in your mouth. The tip of his cock's nearing the back of your throat. You breathe shakily through your nose. You were right again—you can't take him fully in. It's enough of a stretch as it is.

“Fuck, that's it…” Carmy sighs. “Just like that…”

His hand holding your hair turns into a tighter grip as you begin sucking up and down his cock. It's an awful mess, the size of him forcing spit to drip down your chin. It's not just that, though. He's thrusting his cock back into your mouth quicker and quicker. You wish he would slow down so you could lean back and suck on his dribbling tip, but his hand has you anchored.

Time slows as he starts fucking your mouth. Your hands fall to your hands. Your knees are starting to hurt. You care surprisingly little about that fact, instead opting to care about rubbing your clit as quickly as possible. When you get your hands under your underwear, you find your whole pussy already smeared in wetness. You've seeped through the fabric.

When he pulls his cock out of your mouth (or rather, when he tugs you off), you think he's going to give you a new order. Or that he's going to say something. You don't realize what's really happening until it's too late.

You watch him bring a hand to his cock. He strokes it twice, keeping his hand tight in your hair, and with a low groan, he comes.

With his hand on you, you can't move away. Not that you try. When the first glob of cum streaks your cheek, you freeze. All you can do is pause as he comes on your face. Even your hand under your pants has frozen, your palm pressed up tight against your pulsing clit.

With each rope of cum across your face, you feel yourself throb. Carmy is a sight to behold as he comes, long-lashed eyes falling shut with his parted, gasping mouth. He's jaggedly fisting his cock as he just keeps coming. You feel the cum starting to drip down the slopes of your skin, even your lips.

By the time he's come down, he's left your face an absolute mess. Your jaw feels heavy, and his cum is hot against your swollen lips. You've come down as well, and it's left you with the irate realization that he just came all over your face without asking.

“You could've at least told me you were gonna come on my face,” you snap. Your cheeks are burning. Your argument feels weak with how worked up you feel over watching and feeling him come, but the irritation is still very real.

“Clean your station, chef,” he responds, infuriatingly smug even as he catches your breath. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Are you kidding me?” Of course. That's what this all was. A fucked up lesson, a twisted sort of discipline.

“I'm not.” He uncurls his fist from your hair. “Stand up—your knees must hurt.”

You pause for a second before you shakily get back up on your legs. One minute he's messily fucking your mouth, and the other, he's worrying over your sore knees. He continues to become more and more confusing.

“You're gonna make me clean up your mess.” You catch your face in the small, shitty rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. God, are you a filthy sight, cum and spit all over your face.

“I had to clean up yours for the past week, so yeah.” He's zipped himself back up. He's clean, not a drop of anything on him. Unlike the mess parading itself on your face. At least there's not any in your hair.

“This is not the same. This is—” You frustratedly search for the right words. He's remaining as stoic as ever. “You didn't even kiss me,” you blurt out, and as soon as you say it, you regret it.

Carmy stills. You can't tell what he's thinking with his unmoving expression. You're sure he's about to insult you again, but then he’s leaning in and sealing his lips against yours.

You're stunned. A small noise escapes you as he kisses you deeply, thoroughly. His tongue drags up a trail of cum and spit up your chin and back into your mouth. Or back into his. You're unsure, with the way they're all blending together.

“There,” Carmy murmurs against your lips. When he pulls back, you see his tongue running across his lips, collecting the pearlescent sheen that was on them.

“Um—” You start and immediately stop. You’re speechless.

“Now clean up.” You hear the sound of distant company. Your other coworkers must be arriving now. “I expect improvement now, chef. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply bitterly. “I suppose I met your expectations, then?”

“Sure. Closely enough, anyway.” Potent aggravation hits you like a cast iron pan. He drags his thumb in one last infuriating line across your cheek. He sucks it into his mouth and cleans it off. “Don't take too long. I have a lot planned for you today.”

Without waiting for a response, Carmy leaves. He leaves you alone in the shitty bathroom with a now flickering lightbulb, left to clean his cum on your face with water, hand soap, and thin paper towels. You don't know if you've ever been so angry before.

The anger doesn't make the arousal go away. You rub your needy clit to orgasm, your back pressed up against the wall like Carmy's just a moment ago.

As you come with Carmy's cum slowly trailing on your face, you wonder if there is any coming back from this. If there's anything left to be done to stop whatever's happening. You can't come up with any solutions or suggestions. Only one thing is undeniably clear:

You hate Carmen Berzatto, and you're already thinking of ways to get his cock in your mouth again soon.

taglist: @zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @thehouseofevangelista @alastorssimp @talas-starlight @jmamas92

#carmy berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagines #carmen berzatto imagines #my fics #blood orange #ARGHHH ITS HEREEE. i won't lie this chapter was so hard to write #im still having a hard time figuring out what this particular carmy acts like. its difficult. im getting there tho #my smut

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vivian-pascal · 11 months ago

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Rainy days║chapter 1║

𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘯𝘦��𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘴.

dbf!joel x f!reader

summary: When it's Joel instead of your dad picking you up after you land, you can't resist your urges when you see him for the first time in 2 years.

warnings: sexual tension, slow burn, unspecified age gap, feelings, f!masturbation, reader has description for what they are wearing and their hair.

As you step off the plane you immediately get hit with the summer smell of Austin. The hot breeze landing on your face making your hair flow in the wind. The dusty scent of the air going up your nose as you breathe in softly. The feeling of the warm sun on your skin as you walk to the pick up area.

You had jut gotten back from your second year of college studying to hopefully become a psychologist in law. You asked your parents if you could stay with them for summer break since it was going to be packed in LA. Of course they had said yes. They missed you dearly and you were very excited to revisit your childhood home.

As you carry your suitcase close to your side, walking along the outside of the airport, you text your mom you've landed and park yourself on a bench. Your wearing a white sun dress with yellow daises on it and some white converse to match. Your hair is tied back in a high ponytail with two strands sticking out at the front of your face. You go to check your phone to see that your mom has replied back. As you open the message, your face pauses in horror.

'Hey hun! dads at work and im out with the girls, something came up and i can't drive so joel's gonna pick you up ok? love you so much and i can't wait to see you! safe travels!'

Joel. Fucking Joel Miller. The man you had been crushing on since you were a teenager. Your dads best friend. The man has been through everything with you growing up. He even witnessed your first period. You were so embarrassed because it had happened at his house with Sarah. You've always had a childhood crush on him. You'd just hoped those feelings would've gone away. Guess you were wrong.

You were nervous as fuck. Its been only two minutes since your mom sent the message and you are sure you could just run home at this point. In fact, you would much rather do that, than sit in a car with Joel.

You finally respond to your mom with a thumbs up emoji and settle back in your bench. You slowly lean back against the head rest and close your eyes.

You open your eyes to the feeling of calloused hands on your shoulders. Joel. "Why hello there darlin'." He gives you a lopsided grin as he stands with his hands on his hips. You look up at him and itch the back of your neck. "Uhm, hello." You look up at him and give him a soft smile. He swiftly crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward a bit.

"Wow, I came all this way to pick you up and all I get is a 'uhm hi'??" he opens up his arms as to what you assume is a hug. " C'mon now sugar, give your old man a hug." he says with a southern drawl as he leans down to give you a hug.

He's always been the best at giving bear hugs, and with you, the height comparison made it feel a little more special. He always had to bend down and wrap his strong arms around your small little figure. He would nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck and all you could smell was him.

He softly lets go of you and carries your suitcase to his truck. You walk around to the passenger side and hop in. He walks around to his side and jumps in next to you." How was the flight?" he asks as he starts reversing.

God, you forgot how beautiful this man was, his fluffy salt and peppered hair, his graying scruff around his face, large hands in the steering wheel. "It was okay." you answer after a minute of silence. You lift your leg up so you can rest your head on your knee and look out the window, Out the corner of your eye, you can see him looking at where your dress runs up a little to high on your thigh, showing a bit of your white lace underwear. You grin to yourself as you look out the window once more.

"What're ya doin' again in school?" he asks keeping his eyes on the road. You feel a little more comfortable with him now and begin to get a little cocky. "Joel, every time I see you, I always have to tell you! You getting old, old man?" you smirk as you see his jaw tighten and his hands on the steering wheel squeezing hard.

"Better watch that tone darlin'. Didn't come all this way to teach a brat a lesson." You scoff at his remark and begin to take your leg down, crossing it over the other. You can see his stupid grin on his face. You swallow roughly and run your hands threw your hair. You begin to close your eyes, as it has been a long flight for you.

When you slowly lift your head and come back to reality. You think you've been sleeping for ages. A voice knocks you out of your dreaming state and you realize its Joel.

"Why hello there darlin', Almost thought i'd lost ya. Didn't realize traffic was that bad so we took a little longer than we needed too. You're gonna stay at my place till mornin' alright sugar?" he smiles softly and you nod your head. He grabs your arm and helps you out of the truck to get your bags.

Once you get inside, he leads you to the guest bedroom and sets your things inside. "Where's Sarah?" you ask before he leaves. " She's out tonight with a couple of work buddies, just you and me tonight darlin'." He grins then walks out the room. You smile softly and check the time. 10:00pm. You begin to unpack your pajamas and close the door.

Once you get changed, you walk downstairs to see the tv on and Joel sat on the couch. You walk to the kitchen and quickly grab a class. Joel slowly looks over at you and begins to speak. "Do ya want any whiskey?" You look at your empty glass then back at him. "Oh, uhm, no thanks, i think i'm just gonna go to bed, its been a long day." You smile at him and begin your descent up the stairs.

You stop short when you hear him speak again." Hey, f'ya need anythin, i'm just two doors down." He gives you a reassuring smile as you nod. You begin to walk when he speaks once more. "Hey sugar?" he asks. You turn around. "Yes Joel?" He stands still for a moment before smiling a little. " Sleep tight." You give him a quick grin and head for your room.

Once your inside, you close the door and put the glass on the bedside table. You crawl under the sheets and turn the lamp off. You breathe in swiftly and all you can smell is him. You close your eyes as you begin to drift off into a soft slumber.

You wake up abruptly and realize you need to pee. You get out of bed and slowly make your way over to the door. You quietly crawl out of your room and down the hall into the bathroom. You close the door and go inside. Once your done, you wash your hands and make your way back to the room.

You get back in and shut the door, You make your way over to the bed and crawl in once more. You lay awake for several minutes. Dreaming, thinking, wondering about Joel. You can feel your sleep shorts getting wetter and wetter each minute you think about him. The way his hands squeezed tightly on the steering wheel, how his soft curls would fall in front of his face just right.

You couldn't help but trickle your fingers down the length of your body and into your short. You began to slowly massage your clit and imagined his hands. Big, strong, calloused hands everywhere on your body. You quietly moaned at the pleasure you felt. You began to move your fingers to your weeping cunt and inserted a finger.

You covered your mouth in attempts to hide your moans as you added a second finger. All you could think about was how he would move his fingers in all the right places, praising you as you did so good for him. Taking his big cock down your throat as he fell apart under you. You couldn't help the whimper that fell from your lips as you felt the tight coil in your stomach begin to build.

You moved your fingers faster and faster as you dreamed of him. You try your best to cover your moans as you orgasm washes over you. You finger movements go to a slow as you take deep breaths in. "Fuck." You close your eyes and try to calm your breathing. At least you'll be able to sleep now.

The morning comes by quickly. The early sun rising in from the blinds you forgot to close the night before, You sleep short still a little sticky from your previous actions. You slowly yawn and reach over to check the time on your phone. 9:00am. You quietly get out of bed and make your way over to your suitcase pulling out your toothbrush and heading down the hall to the bathroom

You close the door and begin to brush your teeth. When you're done, you open the door only to be greeted with a big, bare chest. He rubs his eyes slowly as you take in his figure. His bed head is gorgeous, all strands of hair going every way, his tanned chest is filled with little freckles, his boxers, which are packing a lot of weight, are fit tighlty around his ass. You close your mouth and swallow deeply as you drag your eyes up to his face.

He looks down at you with an awkward smile. "Well, uhm, morning darlin'. You look directly into his eyes. "Morning Joel." And with that you make your way past him and rush into your bedroom. You quickly close the door and lean against it as thought begin to fill your head.

Holy shit, what if he heard me last night? What if he knows? He can't know, can he?

"Fuck." you whisper as you make your way to the edge of the bed and sit down. You hear a faint knock on your door. " Hello?" you ask. "Hey, i'm uh, i'm dropping you off in about 10 minutes, just wanted to give you a heads up." You nod to yourself. "Okay." You say quietly.

Once your dressed, you grab your bags and begin your descent down the stairs. Joel is sitting at the bar with a cup of coffee and some toast, scrolling through what you assume is facebook. You put your suitcase next to the door and stand there awkwardly.

"So, how'd you sleep?" He looks up from his phone and puts his toast down. "Fine, how 'bout you?" you debate on actually telling him what had happened in the depth of the night but you thought that was absolutely absurd and its not like he would care,right? "I slept okay." You say quietly. He gives a quick nod and stands up from his stool. He walks over to the sink and puts his plate inside while chugging the rest of his coffee down.

"Alright, let's get goin.'" He grabs his keys and picks up your suitcase as you both head to his truck. He puts your suitcase in the back and hops in the drivers side. You quickly buckle up and sit with your legs crossed. He reverses and puts his hand behind your head rest to look out the back. You can see all the veins on his arms that are popping out. Perfect for you to lick.

You quickly look away as he removes his hand and puts it on the steering wheel. You sit in an awkward silence, as you look out the window and watch the world go by. You get a text from your dad asking when you'll be there. "Do you know what time we'll be there?" you ask looking at him. "20 minutes." He doesn't look at you.

"Okay." You say blandly. You quickly text your dad back and wait for his response. You watch as the nostalgic scenery fills your view with all the places you used to go to as a kid. Playing with Sarah while your dads talked away about their new contracting business. You then remember that Joel has a brother. Jesus, it hasn't been that long since ive been home, has it?

"How's Tommy doing?" you ask. He takes a deep breath in. "He's fine." you look down at your lap and play with your fingers. "That's good." you say quietly. He makes a right turn into a neighborhood that you instantly remember. All the times you've played with Sarah in the surrounding fields, it makes you a little emotional but also excited to be home.

You text your dad you've arrived as Joel pulls into the driveway. You quickly unbuckle as you see your dad in the doorway. You run out of the truck and into his arms. "Hey honey! I missed you so much!" He gives you a big hug and squeezes you tightly. "I missed you so much dad!" You give him one last hug before going out to Joel. Your dad takes your bags in and walks into the kitchen.

You find Joel in the same spot. "Well uhm." You scratch the back of your head. "Thanks for picking me up and letting me stay at your place." You smile shyly as he begins to move closer.

He opens his arms for a hug and you lean into him. A few seconds go by with your eyes closed and his head is right next to your ear. You were breathing him in. Physically. "You make some pretty goddamn noises sugar." He whispers. You don't know what he's talking about until you realize. You quickly stiff in your stance. He nuzzles into your neck and gives you a quick kiss under your earlobe.

He let's go of you and stands up straight. Your still in awe as he begins to speak. "See ya 'round sugar." He gives you a quick smile as he makes his way back to the truck with his hands in his pockets. You slowly watch as his truck backs out of your driveway and you see him give you a nod and a sly wink.

"What the fuck."

#joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #dbf!joel

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ros3ybabe · 9 months ago

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Daily Check-in: April 14, 2024 🎀

Hello lovelies! Life is looking better again, but omg was Wednesday thru Saturday morning rough for me. Even last night I was crying my eyes out, but things got better today so I am happy. I want to make a small announcement about the future of my blog: I am changing the theme!! I will still be keeping the pinterest-image, pink, girly aesthetic for my more general posts (lists, routines, etc) but for my daily check ins, I will be using photos I take myself (anonymous surroundings, notes, food/drinks, etc) and colors and emojis that compliment the photos! I have been wanting to change the vibe a bit lately to make it more me, more personal, and I think now is the time to do so! I'm excited to start taking my own photos now, that'll be so fun!!

🩷 What I Accomplished:

washed my sheets, towels, blankets, and comforter

washed and put away all laundry

cleaned the bathroom

packed shoes to ship from my depop shop

cooked chicken fettuccine alfredo from scratch (I made the sauce myself too! it was heavy on the parm and some pieces of chicken were salty, but it was so yummy and rich in flavor!)

planned out some of my week

packed my gym bag for tomorrow (I'm gonna start working out again, I'm nervous)

did my guided journal and morning journal

read 3 chapters of The Untethered Soul (interesting so far, going to keep reading to see how I enjoy it)

wrote out my brain dump for the week

reflected on the week + updated with my accountability buddies

bought groceries (time to make smoothies for breaky this week) and toiletries

🩷 Good Things That Happened:

my pasta was super yummy

had a long phone call with my dad (it was a good talk!)

finally read a physical book and not on my ipad

had such a nice, long shower early this morning

confidently planned goals for the week

my psyc assignment got extended til Wednesday for the whole class

found a recipe for avocado protein smoothie (excited to try it)

🩷 Stuff For Tomorrow

make a breakfast smoothie

gym cardio workout

need to ship shoes I sold

need to complete my homework

studying Spanish (have an italki lesson on April 22nd!!)

read some more

studying chemistry in preparation for my finals

No "what needs to go better" for me today, because today was a really good day. I'm feeling better and life itself is working out the way I knew it would. I just gotta trust in the universe more.

til next time, lovelies 🩷

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 months ago

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WIP Weekend

Weekly WIP update:

Pssst, do you hear that sound? That's me, rattling the bars of my enclosure. Can you believe it's almost time for Updraft to start posting? Neither can I! 😱

6/10 smutty September fics are done. I'm currently taking a small break to get my @steddieholidaydrabbles entry for this month ready, but after that it's back to those final 4.

Going to finish the current chapter of The King's Gift next week and then start with selkie!Steve. The outline is like 80% done and I'm loving it 😍

Send me an emoji, and I'll write and share three sentences from that project.

🏰 The King's Gift

🦭 selkie!Steve

🍆 smutty September

Snippet from 🏰

“He's like a brother to me, y’know?”

Steve startles back to the present with a confused sound and whips around to face Gareth. He's sat down on the low wall that forms the border of the terrace, feet dangling over the ledge, and is looking out over the moonlit hills and forests that lie out of their reach.

Steve blinks at him. “Who? Eddie?”

Gareth snorts into his wine. “No, Wayne. Who do you think?”

He pauses to take another sip while Steve hovers uncertainly behind him.

“You gonna keep standing there like an idiot or do you wanna come sit?”

“What, so that you can push me off and make it look like an accident?” Steve snarks, even as he walks closer.

“What kind of monster do you take me for?” Gareth makes an affronted face. “Eddie would be inconsolable.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Well, glad to hear you have your priorities straight.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #wip ask game #wip weekend

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mayajadewrites · 10 months ago

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For Me (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

CHAPTER THREE: VIBE

The next day you find yourself with motivation to head to the gym. You bring yourself to your full length mirror and adjust your hair, slicking it back into a braid. Your outfit consists of an oversized t-shirt with leggings and sneakers. It's cold in Trost, so you grab your favorite jacket out of your closet.

At the gym, you spot Jean weightlifting with one of his friends. When he spots you, his face lights up.

"Hey!" Jean sets the weights down. "I didn't know you came here."

"The gym and I have a toxic relationship." You laugh, glancing at his friend.

"Oh, this is Eren." Jean steps back and introduces you to Eren.

"Nice to meet you. It's not often I see a woman willing to have a conversation with Jean." Eren shook your hand.

"Eren, you're a dick." Jean shook his head. "I'll let you get back to your workout. I'll see you tonight for dinner. I'm gonna text you the details after my lift."

"Sounds good." You smile, pulling your headphones over your ears. You start on the treadmill, catching up on social media posts and losing yourself in your playlist.

You watch your phone screen light up with a certain someone's name that you've had on your mind since you woke up.

LEVI: You're not home?

YOU: How do you know where I live?

LEVI: Answer my question.

YOU: Fine, but then you have to answer mine. Deal?

LEVI: Deal.

YOU: No, I'm not home. I'm at the gym.

LEVI: I know where you live because Google is free.

You roll your eyes at the text, but you can't help but giggle at his response. There should be red flags popping up right about now, but you quite possibly could be colorblind.

YOU: I'll be home in about 45 minutes. I have to get ready for a date tonight.

LEVI: With that corny ass kid?

YOU: Ding, ding. We have a winner.

LEVI: Are you exclusive with him?

YOU: No. This is our first date. You ask a lot of questions.

LEVI: I'm taking you out to dinner on Friday night.

YOU: Aren't you supposed to ask me, not tell me?

LEVI: I don't accept the word 'no'.

You set your phone face down on the treadmill and continue your workout. You catch Jean stealing glances of you while he's weightlifting with Eren, which you find cute. He's tall, taller than Levi. He's sweet and seems to be attentive. Tonights date should be fun.

________________________

You stare at yourself in the mirror after you go through the outfit options your sister suggested for you. You open the camera app and take a picture of the final look, sending it to your sister. She 'loved' the photo, signaling that you're good to go. You're wearing an off the shoulder sweater with ripped jeans and ankle boots. Jean never told you what kind of outfit you should wear, so you went with casual.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

LEVI: Don't let him in your apartment after your date.

YOU: Ok dad.

LEVI: Daddy is acceptable.

If you keep rolling your eyes so much, they might get stuck at the back of your head.

JEAN: Here's the address! I'll be there in about 10 minutes.

You send a thumbs up emoji and grab your car keys. A quick Google search shows that the restaurant is of Mexican cuisine. The atmosphere looks fun and you love a good taco.

The ride to the restaurant was short, about 15 minutes. When you pull into the parking lot, you're not sure what car to look for since you have no idea what Jean drives. When you look at the door, you see him leaning against the railing. He's holding a bouquet of assorted flowers and has a wide smile on his face.

"Thank you." You say as you walk up to him, taking the bouquet from him. "This place looks good."

"I love it here. I've gotten wasted in that booth right there." Jean pointed at the booth to your left, letting out a chuckle. "The food is really good though."

The date was low key but nice. You and Jean were able to get to know each other a bit more. What he does for work, which is a boring office job, his hobbies, what he likes to do in his free time, etc. It's very easy to talk to him.

But, you get more of a friend vibe from him. One thing about you is that you don't like anyone easily. It takes a lot of mental connection before anything physical can occur. You felt a bit disappointed that you didn't feel that fire for Jean.

Jean paid for the food and pressed his hand to your shoulder to lead you outside.

"Thank you for dinner." You turn to face Jean. "I had a great time."

"I did too! We should do it again sometime."

"I need to be upfront with you, ok?"

"That doesn't sound good." Jean looked down, rolling his thumbs together.

"I just feel more of a friend vibe with you. Which I'm not opposed to. I had a lot of fun with you, and you're hilarious."

"Are you seeing someone else?"

"What? No." You shook your head. "I wish I felt a romantic connection, but I don't."

"Thank you for being honest with me." Jean nodded, his mouth curving to a half smile. "I would love to be friends."

You smile and hug Jean. "Thank you for understanding." You kiss Jean's cheek before walking to your car. "Gym tomorrow?"

"I'll see you there." Jean waved.

_____________________

LEVI: How was your date?

YOU: Wasn't much of a date. I won't be seeing him like that again.

LEVI: Did he hurt you?

YOU: What? No. I just don't feel that type of connection with him.

You weren't sure why you were telling Levi this, but he just feels like a person you can tell anything to and he will understand.

LEVI: Oh.

LEVI: Sweet dreams.

YOU: Sleep well.

You press your phone to your chest and close your eyes as you think of Levi's face. His chiseled jawline, his stone grey eyes, the way his raven hair covers part of his face but his eyes still pierce through you.

You shouldn't feel these things for Levi. His attitude is abrasive, but you can't help but be intrigued by him. You think of his lips, the way they move when he speaks. His hands along with his long fingers. You think about how they would feel on your body. The thought of him touching you made your heart beat faster. Him touching you all over your body. Your face, your hands, your hips, your thighs...

It's time for bed.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #aot #attack on titan

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wildflowerteas · 9 months ago

Note

hella got through chapter 6 everyone cheer!

i don't know how to respond to this coherently so i'm just going to scroll down and let the word vomit happen:

the choice of emoji reacts to some of these . . . i'm surprised hella hasn't killed you guys. keeping gin away from this mess is the last thing on my mind, unfortunately *stares at the BEAST tag*

ARRGHHHFGHHH IM SO GLAD YOU GUYS LIKE SSKK. they're such a breath of fresh air, and writing them comes so easily to me. while i like writing skk ( fucked up as they are--even at this point in the story ) and the fast-paced nature of their relationship, this is romance writing work coming from the guy whose only other fic had a first kiss at uhhh...160k words.

yesenina did serve too hard. i imagine her as similair to the others, but with a Rita Hayworth-like air of ambition about her, and that's a serve. and it's what gets her killed.

Chuuya Yuan history coming in SOON. actually. Next chapter. seeing hella lose it over Chuuya's internal monologue here has been absolutely hilarious and kind of rewarding. I Knew All That because I'm the author ( duh ) so i never really grasped how strange the shift to Chuuya's thoughts about the relationship would be. I mean there's snippets of it, like the diner scene, but you're right, it's fanfic and so that is a lot easier to sweep under the rug.

ACAB. I considered putting a line from Doc Riedenschneider in The Asphalt Jungle ( 1950 ) "Experience has taught me to never trust a policeman. Just when you think one's alright, he turns legit." in a divider chapter between part I and part II, but I thought was too on the nose following 7 ( and a bit pretentious considering this is just ao3 fanfic and not a published work or anything ) so i grabbed myself by the metaphorical monkey backpack and didn't. Mafia Nepo Baby 😭 I love Hella HUGE WIN FOR ME. I was so nervous because i needed to balance Chuuya being observant but also quite literally *out of the loop.* He's not from the same world as Dazai--he's not involved with the murders or the politics or the mess going on yet. He comes across as oblivious at times because Dazai's POV is purposefully designed to make you see him that way. Dazai's so sure he's in control of what Chuuya knows that he doesn't realize he might have met his match.

ZSKK are uhm. yeah. all im gonna say there.

the "PARDON." IM CACKLING

argh. the switch up with this chapter...why the hell am i getting nostalgic for something i wrote less than two months ago ( ican't believe i've been grinding through this fic so fast jesus ).

i love unhealthy dynamics, truly. this fic was really a test to see if i could write soukoku making each other worse. which is a pretty stark contrast to my other stuff.

HELLA. OH MY GOD. that bit about their careers . . . i can't believe she noticed that. Chuuya started the fic genuinely ambitious, wanting the spotlight, wanting to defy expectations set upon him by his looks, his race, and his past. Dazai's a cop, sworn to uphold the law, but he doesn't feel like a good person. He can't ( interlude chapter . . . stares out the window ), but he can use everything about who he is to give Chuuya the life he wants. like a guardian ange--*gets taken out by a sniper chapter 8 style* Their original goals aren't gone, per se, they've simply been reoriented.

can't wait for chapter 7

i know it'll make Hella want to hunt me down for sport, so i'll sleep with both eyes open for the forseeable future.

#ask

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corduroyserpent · 9 months ago

Note

V for the ask meme 🖤

V: Are there certain comments you’ve received on your stories that have stuck with you?

yes absolutely!! i've received so many incredible comments, it's really encouraging. especially on baby zzl! this is the only time i've gotten this sort of overwhelmingly kind response on a multichapter fic that's been going for almost 2 years, and i reread the comments often!

gonna pick a totally random comment (cough) from the latest chapter to share because it made me very happy <3

[Image ID: A comment from yilinglazy that says "Ough, oh yeah, destroy me with their heartbreak and then put me back together with that good good joy. That's the stuff you excel at the best, I think. Shattering a person and then helping them put thenselves back together. At least from my perspective. Laughing giddily as I perpetually twirl hair around my finger in wait for the next chappy (smiling face with hearts emoji) End Image ID]

and on the other side of things, please allow me to share the anti-shen yuan rant that makes me laugh whenever i think about it

[Image ID: An anonymous comment that says "OK, I just have to say it (starts anti-SY rant): SY is and always will be an arrogant, petty, jealous asshole - not once did he have the decency and curtesy to congratulate SQH (his supposedly best friend) on his pregnancy! SY is a toxic friend and should be avoided at all costs. I really hope SQH says to MBJ that he prefers to not be around SY during his pregnancy and and while raising his child. (ends rant)." End Image ID]

AHAHAHAHAHA *wipes tears from my eyes* oh man that's good. it's really only stuck with me because i absolutely do not receive comments like this from scummies, anon is a total outlier, like what the fuck hahaha

anyway, thank you to everyone who leaves comments. i cherish each and every one!

[fic writer ask meme]

#thanks grim!!#ask #ask game #fireandgrimstone

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depressedhouseplant · 1 year ago

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🔞 Cops & Robbers (Bbangju) 🔞

Chapter 2

WC: 2600

Tags: Graphic depiction of injury, “Off screen” murder, No smut, I’m sorry Chanhee stans

A/N: Literally one person requested to see what came next so here you go @minsflannelwrap148

“Where have you been? I resorted to calling you after you didn’t answer my texts. You know how I feel about talking on the phone,” Chanhee demanded when Younghoon walked into the office the next morning. Younghoon checked his phone. It was still on silent.

“Oh, I had it on silent and forgot to turn it off,” Younghoon replied, seeing 12 texts and 2 missed calls. It wasn’t a total lie. He had it on silent at work, but kept it that way when he got to the club.

“I’m gonna set a timer on it or something. Anyway, here’s the file you asked for,” Chanhee handed him an envelope.

“Thanks,” Younghoon opened it and pulled out the pictures. They were of Juyeon out with two of his men. Younghoon already knew there wouldn’t be anything useful. Juyeon knew they were following him and was too smart to do anything illegal when he knew they were around.

“Not what you were hoping for?” Chanhee asked.

“Exactly what I expected. We should probably call off the surveillance. At this point we’re just wasting time and money,” Younghoon sighed, putting the photos back in the envelope.

“How do you expect to catch him then?” his assistant raised an eyebrow.

“At this point? He’ll only get caught if he wants to be caught,” Younghoon shrugged. Chanhee studied him for a moment. “What?”

“What’s that on your neck?” he pointed. Younghoon opened his phone’s back camera. There was a hickey about the size of a quarter on the left side of his neck. He’d been in such a hurry to put on clean clothes and not be too late to work that he hadn’t looked that hard in the mirror.

“Shit,” he huffed.

“Did you get laid last night? And that’s why you had your phone off?” Chanhee stared.

“Okay, yes. I met someone after work and we hooked up,” it wasn’t a lie even though it felt like one. He had met Juyeon after hours. He should’ve told him no marks. At the same time, he knew Juyeon wouldn’t have listened.

“Tell me everything,” Chanhee sat in the chair next to Younghoon’s desk and propped his chin on his hand.

“Absolutely not. My sex life is none of your business,” Younghoon screeched.

“Why? Was he ugly? Was his stroke game terrible?” Chanhee questioned.

“What? No, he was not ugly and his ‘stroke game’,” Younghoon used air quotes “was fine.”

“Just fine? Are your standards that low?” the blonde gave him a judgy look. Sleeping with Juyeon was not one of his better life choices, but the other man was handsome, intelligent, and witty. Under any other circumstance, he was the ideal.

“You’ve worked here too long. You’re interrogating me,” Younghoon huffed.

“One day I’ll get you to tell me everything,” Chanhee grinned and went back to his desk. Younghoon snorted. He had no intention of ever telling anyone what happened. Then his phone beeped with a text.

Juyeon: Missed you this morning. Here’s the list of names I have.

[Attachment]

Younghoon: Thanks

Juyeon: Not gonna say you missed me too?

Younghoon: No

There was a long pause.

Juyeon: You will 😘

Younghoon: Someone in your position shouldn’t be using kissy face emojis

Juyeon: 😘😘😘

Younghoon: I hate you

Juyeon: I hate you too. Now run down those names. I’ve got crime to commit

Younghoon rolled his eyes. Of course Juyeon would figure out a way to flirt while getting Younghoon to do what amounted to a personal favor. Younghoon opened up the attachment and started entering the names into the database.

“You ready to go?” Chanhee’s voice jerked Younghoon back to the present.

“Huh?” he looked away from his screen.

“It’s 5:30 and you owe me dinner,” Chanhee pointed to his watch.

“Since when do I owe you dinner?” Younghoon rubbed his eyes.

“Since I bought lunch yesterday or did the dicking you got last night cause amnesia?” his assistant teased.

“Shut up,” Younghoon swatted at him. The petite blond laughed. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“No, I am waiting right here so you don’t ditch me,” Chanhee crossed his arms.

“Fine,” Younghoon rolled his eyes. He saved all the information he’d found and shut off his computer. He could give Juyeon the information tomorrow. Not that he’d found much. He’d text him when he got home with the update. “Ready.”

“Excellent. I want pizza,” Chanhee said as they walked to the elevator.

“You always want pizza,” Younghoon shook his head as he hit the button. Everyone else had left for the day. Their office was where all the 9-5 types worked. Which is why the elevator coming from an upper floor was a red flag.

“Who went upstairs?” Chanhee asked when he saw the numbers going down instead of up.

“Maybe the cleaning crew started on the top floor today?” Younghoon suggested.

“They use the service elevators,” Chanhee replied. Younghoon’s gut was telling him something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“We’re taking the stairs,” Younghoon grabbed Chanhee’s arm and pulled him toward the stairwell. He closed the door right as the elevator opened.

“What are you doing?” Chanhee hissed.

“Run,” Younghoon hissed back.

“What? Why?”

Then the stairwell door opened to reveal two men in ski masks with guns strapped to their hips.

“That’s why,” Younghoon said. Chanhee was frozen in place. Younghoon almost pulled him down the stairs as they started running. They made it to the ground floor only for Younghoon to slam into a very solid body. Chanhee crashed into Younghoon pushing the man backwards.

“Got ‘em,” he said into a headset. The other two men came out of the stairwell seconds later, guns drawn. Younghoon put Chanhee behind him and held up his hands.

“Whatever you want, he has nothing to do with it,” Younghoon said.

“You don’t know that,” the biggest one replied.

“If this is about the search I ran today, then he doesn’t know anything. You can take me, but let him go,” Younghoon explained.

“It’s about more than just a simple search,” one of the two with the guns said.

“Whatever it is, leave him out of it,” Younghoon stood his ground.

“Then what? He runs to tell your bosses? I don’t think so,” the biggest one snorted.

“I won’t do that. I swear,” Chanhee said. Younghoon could feel him shaking.

“Sorry, can’t trust a cop,” the third one said.

“He’s not a cop. I am,” Younghoon corrected. He’d slowly started backing them toward the door. One of them realized what Younghoon was doing and stepped behind them. Now they were surrounded with two guns pointing at them and a guy who was easily 50% bigger than Younghoon.

“I’m done talking,” one of the gunmen said, taking the butt of his gun and hitting Chanhee with it.

“Stop it! I said let him go!” Younghoon crouched down on the floor covering Chanhee. His forehead was bleeding from the blow.

“No,” the biggest one hauled Younghoon up and wrapped his arm around his neck. The last thing he saw before he passed out was two guns pointed at Chanhee’s head.

It was almost 1am when Juyeon heard the doorbell. All of his men had the door code and no one else knew where this house was. There was no reason someone should be at the door. He checked the security camera. He’d know that body anywhere.

“Younghoon?” Juyeon stared at the battered man on his doorstep.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he gasped then fell forward. Juyeon barely caught him.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” he soothed as he helped Younghoon over to the couch. “Let me see.”

“They killed him. They killed Chanhee,” Younghoon couldn’t catch his breath. He was clutching his right side. The side with the scar. Juyeon carefully moved Younghoon’s hand to reveal a blood stain on his shirt.

“Let me look at you and then you can tell me what happened. Okay?” Juyeon asked. Younghoon nodded. “This might sting a little.” The blood had glued the shirt to Younghoon’s skin. Juyeon had to tug a little to loosen it. Younghoon hissed.

“I know it hurts. I’ll be as fast as possible,” Juyeon told him. There was a large gash on his side like someone had sliced at the skin, but Younghoon moved at the last second. Bruises were blooming all over his torso. He had a black eye and possibly a broken nose. “Are you dizzy? Feeling nauseous?”

“No,” Younghoon whispered.

“Then you probably don’t have a concussion,” Juyeon noted. “Any pain in your side other than the cut?”

“Hard to breathe,” the other man told him.

“Shit,” Juyeon raked his hand through his hair.

“What?” Younghoon finally met his eyes.

“You could have a cracked rib. I’m gonna call Kevin. If nothing else he can stitch up your side,” Juyeon told him.

“Who?” Younghoon asked.

“My doctor,” Juyeon explained. Younghoon stared at him. “What? You think I go to the hospital when you beat the shit out of me?”

“I’ve never…” Younghoon began.

“I know, I know. You go easy on me,” Juyeon kissed Younghoon’s forehead. He grabbed the encrypted phone and texted the doctor. Even if Kevin was at work, which he shouldn’t be, Juyeon knew he’d drop everything. Juyeon made sure he paid better than any hospital ever would.

“He’s on his way,” Juyeon said.

“Chanhee. They killed him,” Younghoon’s eyes welled up. Juyeon remembered the pixie-esque blonde. He seemed very loyal to the other man, albeit a little snarky.

“Who’s they?” Juyeon asked.

“I don’t know for sure. I ran a search of the names you gave me. Eight hours later three of them took us,” Younghoon shook his head and winced immediately.

“Easy,” Juyeon reached up and cupped Younghoon’s cheek. His hand covered almost half of the other man’s face. The other gang had done this. Juyeon knew they were willing to resort to violence, but murdering an innocent bystander was worse than he’d thought. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m here!” Kevin called.

“Living room!” Juyeon yelled back. Kevin stopped in his tracks when he walked in the room. It was then Juyeon realized he was kneeling in front of Younghoon with his hand on his cheek. Like he was someone Juyeon cared about.

“This is unexpected. I thought you needed me to patch up Hyunjae or Changmin,” he said.

“Surprise?” Juyeon ventured.

“Can you walk?” Kevin turned his attention to Younghoon.

“Yeah,” Younghoon wheezed.

“But you shouldn’t. You’ve lost a decent amount of blood and you’re having trouble breathing,” Juyeon cut in. He picked the other man up and held him like a sleepy toddler in their parent’s arms.

“Downstairs,” Kevin said. Juyeon didn’t miss the look the doctor gave him as he carried his supposed nemesis to the basement. Younghoon might have been Juyeon’s opposite, but he was also his mirror.

“Tired,” he mumbled. Younghoon rested his unbruised cheek on Juyeon’s shoulder.

“You can’t go to sleep quite yet. Doctor’s orders,” Kevin told him. Younghoon whimpered.

“Once you’re cleaned up and Kevin has stitched you up. Right Kev?” Juyeon told him.

“As long as he doesn’t have a concussion. Could be the blood loss. Let’s get the x-rays first,” the doctor instructed.

“You have an x-ray machine in your basement?” Younghoon questioned.

“A full medical setup. As I said, you think I go to the hospital after you’ve beaten my ass?” Juyeon teased.

“Guess not,” Younghoon yawned.

“Let’s get started,” Kevin commanded.

He ran a full battery of tests, cleaned and stitched Younghoon’s side, and set his nose.

“You didn’t break any ribs, but I suspect you tore the muscles in your chest wall. I’d have to confirm with a CT scan though. Unfortunately there’s not much that can be done for that other than pain medication and limiting activity. It’s gonna hurt to breathe for a while,” Kevin explained when he finished the exam. “Your nose should heal in a couple weeks since it wasn’t a full fracture. You can use arnica to fade the bruises faster.”

“Thank you,” Younghoon tried to smile.

“Of course. You’re gonna need to take it easy in general. No beating the shit out of each other. No fucking either,” he gave Juyeon a pointed look.

“What?” he tried to look offended.

“Don’t act all innocent. I know you,” Kevin said.

“We won’t,” Younghoon assured him. “Hurts to move.”

“I’ll give you some shots to take the edge off. You won’t be pain free though,” the doctor pulled some syringes out of a cabinet. Juyeon held Younghoon’s hand as Kevin administered the medication. He looked down and noticed bruises forming on the other man’s wrists. Juyeon knew those marks.

Handcuffs.

“What did they do to you?” he said under his breath.

“What?” Younghoon looked at him.

“Just talking to myself,” Juyeon smiled.

“All done. You’re free to sleep. Call me if you need anything else,” Kevin started putting things back in order.

“I’ll give you a little extra,” Juyeon said as he picked Younghoon up again.

“No need. The knowledge that you’re fucking your sworn enemy is a bonus in itself,” Kevin smirked.

“Fuck off,” Juyeon glared.

“Juyeon,” Younghoon tried to pinch him and failed.

“Taking you to bed now,” Juyeon carefully carried Younghoon to his bedroom. It took three times as long, but he didn’t want to aggravate any of his freshly repaired wounds.

“Let me get you some clean clothes,” Juyeon put Younghoon down and began checking his closet for something that might fit. “Hopefully your giant shoulders will fit in this.”

“Giant?” Younghoon smiled sleepily.

“Yes, giant. Who even has shoulders that big anyway?” Juyeon replied, dropping his head so Younghoon couldn’t see his smile. He helped Younghoon out of his bloody clothes and into a t-shirt and sweatpants. Juyeon resolved to burn the damaged clothes later. They might be evidence, but he didn’t care.

“You kissed me,” Younghoon looked over at Juyeon when he got in the bed.

“When?” Juyeon propped his head up on his hand.

“Before you called Kevin. You kissed my forehead,” Younghoon explained. “Why?”

“I’ve kissed you on the lips before, haven’t I?” Juyeon pointed out.

“I might be in horrible pain in spite of the amount of morphine in my system, but I know you’re dodging the question,” Younghoon said. The truth was Juyeon didn’t know why he did it. It felt like the right thing to do so he did it.

“Does it matter?” Juyeon questioned.

“It matters to me,” Younghoon told him.

“Would you accept that I don’t know why I did it?” Juyeon asked.

“If it’s the truth,” Younghoon held his hand out and Juyeon took it.

“It is,” he confirmed.

“For two people who supposedly hate each other, we’re not very good at it,” Younghoon observed.

“The opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s apathy. I’ve always felt strongly about you. Maybe hate is simply resisting love,” Juyeon shrugged.

“Maybe it is,” Younghoon agreed. They stared at each other for a moment, Juyeon’s statement heavy in the air.

“I believe you wanted to sleep?” Juyeon broke the silence first.

“I do,” Younghoon confirmed.

“Then sleep. I’ll be here,” Juyeon kissed Younghoon’s temple. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too,” Younghoon grinned. “I’d kiss you back, but Kevin said to watch my nose.”

“The intention is there. I can pretend,” Juyeon smiled back.

“Goodnight Juyeon,” Younghoon whispered.

“Goodnight Younghoon,” Juyeon replied. Except Juyeon didn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep knowing someone had tortured Younghoon, murdered his friend, and he had no idea who it was.

“Not on my turf, fuckers,” he told the darkness. This was his city and no one was going to take it from him. No one.

#minors dni #the boyz fanfic #younghoon x juyeon #yes I take requests #the boyz au #no smut #who even am i #Kim Younghoon x Lee Juyeon

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f0point5 · 1 year ago

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I'm kinda late today, but I still needed to put some thoughts on the last chapter in. :D

Is it just me or did y/n kinda revert back to her old ways when texting Elliot? She seemed to be rather closed off again. No emojis. Kinda short answers. Wonder where that came from lol.

I'm really looking forward to those next days and how this whole thing with Elliot going to COTA will go down. We still don't know whether she'll fly AirMax or commercial with her +1, do we? It's definitely gonna be interesting.

Why is noone talking about the dress she found? Was that actually a wedding dress store? She be cooking lol.

The messages between Max and Clara were sooo good! And it felt like there was more to unpack than meets the eye. Like there's always so much happening inbetween the lines. Again - maybe it's just me, but Max seems somewhat vary these days whenever someone texts him and starts off a little vague. His "is everything ok?" makes it seem like he's waiting for sth not to be ok soon. When it comes to y/n that is...

I loved that even though the pic Clara sent him probably made him feel things he'd rather not think about, his first reaction still was to ask what's going on and who took the pictures. Of course it's up for interpretation why that was. But I wouldn't write that one down to just jealousy. He was probably more puzzled, kinda shocked and maybe slightly worried for what's going on with her? I'd love to believe that was the case. Anyway the thought that he shouldn't be seeing this came only second.

"Who do you think they're for you ignoramus?" How much more clear can she be? Like didn't he get that at all? I'd love to get an insight in his brain because WHY would y/n do this for him? Like why would she want him to see her in underwear? What is his thought process here? Or does he honestly block out any of those thoughts completely? He's a rare species, let me tell you this lol.

Then what does Max mean by saying he's not the person to talk to about "this". About what? About y/n not being happy with Elliot? I mean I get that, like from his pov. But it was still an odd answer to give to Clara mentioning that.

And then there's still this thing he needed Clara for. You answered to an ask that Clara's "I know what you did Maxie" was her referring to that. But I'm still trying to figure out what it is. The post you first mentioned it was the same post in which Max asked Lando for the contact of his watch guy in Monaco. Please, help me out here with the cooking... are those two things connected? Because I believe that Max told both Clara and Lando that he doesn't want y/n to feel bad about it, that's why he doesn't want to tell her. With y/n's birthday coming up it could well be Max organising a gift, but if it was a surprise, then Clara and Lando (no matter whether the things are connected or not) would understand why Max keeps a secret. So there needs to be sth else... And the way Clara put that "I know what you did Maxie" in the messages it didn't appear to me as if it was anything bad for y/n or rather sth she'd feel bad about. To me Clara's words sounded more like she knew about sth sweet he's done for y/n, sth that again made her see what everyone else is seeing. But what do I know lol. This is really frustrating!!

On a final note... Y/n texting Max that she doesn't care about the others, she cares about him. The feeeeels. I read the ask about her putting him first - always. And those words are a perfect example of that. I don't think that's a problem at all. Because I really think there's nothing more beautiful then finding someone who'll always put you first and that going both ways.

The story on Clara's insta was a perfect ending to this post. I loved it. And she definitely did that on purpose. Good for her lol. She's just won herself like loooads of brownie points!

She was just icked out with him mentioning her birthday lol for sure she’s wondering how he found out.

She did indeed fly Air Max. But she has work stuff in the US to do so needed to go early and Elliot has work.

She didn’t buy a wedding dress lol.

What do you think her and Clara were cooking? Expand please.

Lol Max definitely was like “when she told me what she was doing today it wasn’t this so how did she get there?”. He was just confused. I don’t think he interpreted Clara’s message as Y/N took them for him, he interpreted it as Clara had set the whole thing up to get a photo to send to him. Clara is known to be a bit of a puppet master lol. Max was immediately aware that Y/N didn’t know he’d seen the picture.

I can’t say what he meant but he meant more than one thing but also only one thing.

Okay so, Clara was referencing the thing Max asked her for help with before Qatar. I won’t say what the nature of it was but it’s definitely something Max doesn’t want Y/N to know about (currently) and Clara was taunting him that if he didn’t play ball, she could always bait it out to Y/N. It was a low level threat from her and Max knew it. Which is why he asked her what she wanted, because they both know she’s got him by the balls.

Clara is…a force to be reckoned with thats for sure

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jamneuromain · 2 years ago

Text

Being Mutuals (Headcanon)

Andy Barber x You (Reader)

College AU, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor Andy Barber, Student Reader, Fluff, mostly fluff, a lil humor maybe?

W/C: ~1.5K

Summary: Andy is so curious about the detective AU that he just has to ask…

Inspired by this post, but has nothing to do with smut! just some silly fluff!

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

Normally, Andy isn’t a big fan of romantic stories. But if the stories are so well-written and have an amazing plot, in other words, his girlfriend for six months, you, wrote it, then he has a totally different opinion on that matter.

You have become so interested in crime-solving stories these days, that you start to write a small series of Detective AU, purely for fun. Which, very unfortunate for Andy, is an ongoing story with cliffhangers at each end of the chapters.

For the record, he hasn’t asked you whether you could give him permission for reading your stuff. He acknowledges that writing is a personal process, and he fears asking you in advance to read about the upcoming chapter would somehow discourage your writing.

The last thing he’d do is put pressure on you.

However, Andy, clever as he is, discovers a loophole in his logic. You could be intimidated by him, Dr. Andrew Barber, Literature Professor, and also your boyfriend. But your penname Tumblr account “A. Vulpecula” couldn’t possibly be intimidated by a fan of your works, who comes to your Tumblr inbox, after expressing their love for your writing, and asks whether they could have a sneak peek of your upcoming chapter.

Andy thinks his idea is brilliant. He is also smirking because he did not tell you anything about his Tumblr account.

He rushes to his laptop, sliding an ask into your inbox, and waits patiently.

And crossing his fingers, prays you to answer it.

His heart nearly stops a beat when he hears you calling him from the bedroom: “Andyyyy!”

“What is it?” He finds you giggling and grinning in bed, his brows furrow and he stands by the door nervously when he notices your laptop on your thighs.

You cover your mouth with your hand, try to stiff your giggling, “nothin’. I just want to read this to you.”

You pat on the bed to have him sit down and listen, “one of the fans sent me this.” You clear your throat, “from Anonymous:”

“Hi, Vulpecula! [heart emoji] [heart emoji] [heart emoji] I am a huge fan of your stories. I particularly love One Time Undercover, the story about a covert agent falling in love. Not only the romance was beautifully written, but also the intertwined leads and plots amazed me. Every time I read your stories, I feel like being on a ride with the characters, exploring various possibilities of what the story leads to.”

“That being said, this might be a somewhat intrusive ask, but if you wouldn’t mind, could I get a glimpse of the next chapter of Love and War? [kiss emoji] [kiss emoji] [kiss emoji]”

“Awww this is so cute.” You comment after you read the ask to Andy, “don’t you think? And this anon used- Just so cute!” Your grin grows wider, giggling again to the puzzled face of Andy.

Andy has to show his puzzled stern face. Because this is exactly what he wrote to your inbox, and he even tried to be less conspicuous by being anonymous. He is so scared of breaking down the next second, and admitting to you he has been following you on Tumblr ever since he discovered the writer “A. Vulpecula.”

“Okay.” He tries to keep his tone even, keeping the bottled-up mixture of excitement and fear to himself, “you are gonna reply to that?”

“Hmm.” A sly grin curls your lips, “I don’t know.” But your sparkling eyes say otherwise, “maybe. Maybe not.”

Andy groans inside.

“Huh, anything else?” He displays minimal interest in the ask you received (that he sent), and acts as if he doesn’t care.

Which he does.

By a lot.

“Nope. Just wanted to show you how cute this ask is.” You giggle again, nearly turning into full-blown laughter when you crash your body into the soft pillows, nearly sending your laptop to the ground. Thank God Andy catches it for you.

You receive asks all the time. You sometimes read a few to Andy. But Andy doesn’t know how his is different from anyone else’s, because normally, you wouldn’t laugh like your lungs are full of nitrous oxide.

Or maybe you are in a giddy mood.

Your body is still trembling with laughter when Andy kisses your forehead, and sets your laptop in the middle of the bed, where it couldn’t roll off again.

By the time he goes back to his study, he finds that in answer to his (anonymous) ask, you have posted a small thank-you note to the anon, and with it, a small snippet of the upcoming chapter.

Andy cheers in victory.

In silence, mostly.

He begins to slide into your inbox more often, especially when he forgot to push the anonymous button, and you replied to his account “Newspaperbeacon” (something that he generates randomly online) as usual with your other asks.

He decides there’s no need for anonymous since then.

He’s bolder about clicking “likes” and reblogging your work, never short of words of compliment everytime he sends you a message to your inbox.

Until he feels something is off.

Until he feels you are a little too warm. To him. Not HIM him, but his “newspaperbeacon” account.

You would reply to every ask he sent, answering with an excessive number of hearts and kisses emoji.

To be fair, you’d reply to others with three and reply to him with four. That’s not a lot, but it’s still one more.

You also replied to his ask last time with xoxo. Which has never ever happened to other replies before.

And you followed him seconds ago.

YOU FOLLOWED HIM!

HOW CAN YOU FOLLOW HIM?

Although he has almost nothing on his Tumblr account apart from reblogging your works!

He starts to regret opening the pandora box.

Deep down, he knows it is wrong to “test” you like that online. And you are probably just being friendly to your enthusiastic fan, a.k.a, him. He is jealous of the attention his account gets from you. This makes him uncomfortable as hell, and after an intense debate he had with himself, he decided to come clean with you.

But not before he stops following you on Tumblr.

Andy is relieved when he unfollows and blocks you. It pains him to do so, but it has to be done. He sighs, leaning to the back of the chair.

The next step is hard.

To come clean.

To apologize.

He is pondering over the specific words he should use to apologize, when a pouty you come to the study.

Thank God he closed his laptop a few seconds ago.

Andy manages a smile, “what is it, baby?”

You huff and sit on his lap. Your voice is adorable even if you are in a bad mood, “are you mad at me?”

“Wha-no! How can I possibly be mad at you?” Andy asks, surprised by your question.

“I dunno.” Your fingers fiddle with his cotton shirt, not meeting his eyes, “then why did you unfollow me?”

“I unfollow you because- YOU KNOW THAT’S ME?” Andy nearly jumps out of his chair if it wasn’t you sitting on his thighs, horror and more horror flood his heart, his face draining all colors with a gasp.

“I… You thought I don’t know?” You question him in disbelief, and some frustration, “but I’ve made it so obvious! The extra heart and kiss, the smooch and hugs gifs, the “xoxo” I text you in real life, and I FOLLOW YOU? Isn’t that obvious?”

“How did you know?” He looks genuinely surprised.

Where do you start? “The writing style? The old-man emoji you use? The critical comment you leave under almost every chapter? Quoting Beauvoir and Neil Gaimen when you reblog? Seriously, who quotes them when Tumblr is filled with fans who just want to read stories and smuts?” You huff impatiently, furious, but also want to laugh at his lousy attempt in disguising himself, “and your icon. It’s a picture of our bookshelf, Andy, I’ve lived here for five months, and I’d be a fool to not realize that.” You gesture at the brown bookshelf on the wall.

“So you don’t think… I’m stalking you on the internet?”

“Of course not.” You roll your eyes, “you just want to read more. If that’s stalking then I’m a heavy stalker who definitely has a handful of restraining orders.”

“Oh.” Andy murmurs softly, “I’m sorry.”

“You thought I don’t know? That’s why you unfollowed me?”

“Yeah, well…”

“You big idiot.”

“I deserve that.” He pulls you back to his lap when you struggle to get out of his grip, a goofy grin on his lips, “can I kiss it and make it better?”

“Unless you follow me back later.”

#andy barber #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #professor andy barber #student reader #dancing in the daydream #andy barber fluff #being mutuals

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kermit-ydafrog · 10 months ago

Text

"9 Deadly Rings"

===============================

Skintone = (S/t)

Eye Color = (E/c)

Hair Color = (H/c)

Hair Length = (H/l)

Hairstyle = (H/s)

Birth Country = (B/c)

Vacation Country = (V/c)

Height = (H)

Age = (A)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emojis:

⚪Y/N⚪

🟠Leiz🟠

🟡Aira🟡

🔴Miko🔴

⚫Nathasia⚫

🟢Zara🟢

🚫John🚫

🟣Judas🟣

🔵Kurt🔵

===============================

Chapter 2: Unknown Place Part 1/3

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The kids laugh and had fun as they play there little game of roleplay

⚪Y/N⚪: Alright my turn to pick the next scenario!

Y/N cheered as they reached for the hat with only 3 more folded papers with the scenarios written on them that was left and then soon enough Y/N picked one up and read it to themselves first before snorting and chuckling to themselves

⚪Y/N⚪: Okay, Which one of you fuckers fucking made the scenario fucking pokemon???

Y/N giggled through there words

🟢Zara🟢: That was me

Zara chuckles

🟣Judas🟣: What does it say?

⚪Y/N⚪: It says here..."What if they are Pokemons trainers and have there pokemon named after there sins?"

⚫Nathasia⚫: Like Greed, Pride or something like that?

🟢Zara🟢: Yep!

⚪Y/N⚪: Okay then, Wait! I have an idea

🔵Kurt🔵: This better not be another one of your ideas were we have to hold/wear (Your Favorite Item/Accessory/Clothes)

⚪Y/N⚪: (Holding said item) No...it's a different idea! Promise

🚫John🚫: Okay what is it?

⚪Y/N⚪: It's simple and don't worry it's still related to the Scenario so all we have to do is to say it at the same time like as if we're fighting team rocket together and instead of "I choose you!" We say "I thou summon thee" and then said sin since we're talking about Hell and Heaven and there choosen words at the BCE

🔵Kurt🔵: Not Bad, Alright then let's do it

🟢Zara🟢: Oh! Let's take a video of it and then I'll edit it as if we're actually summoning them or some shit!

Zara exclaimed happily

🔴Miko🔴: Yeah! Let's do it!

🟠Leiz🟠: Let's use Aira's phone since her phone camera is better not gonna lie

🟡Aira🟡: I'll get my phone

Aira got her phone and put it at a place where it can see all of them around the circle

The time was 2:59...it was almost 3am...

⚪Y/N⚪: Ok then let's do this! In the count of 3...

1...

2...

3!!!

⚪Y/N and Zara🟢: I Thou Summon Thee

Pride!!!

The two shouted in pride

🚫John🚫: I Thou Summon Thee

WRATH!!!

He shouted in anger

⚫Nathasia⚫: I Thou Summon Thee

Envy~...

She said in a low and aroused voice

🔴Miko🔴: I Thou Summon Thee

Sloth...

She said in a low and lazy voice

🟠Leiz🟠: I thou Summon Thee

Lust~

She said in a sexual and dramatic way

🟣Judas🟣: I Thou Summon Thee

Gluttony!

She exclaimed with such energy

🔵Kurt🔵: I Thou Summon Thee

Greed!

He exclaimed with such venom in his tone of voice

All of them shouted there chant in unison and exactly as the clock hit 3am the book in the middle of the carpet Glowed and the oval gem in the middle of it was a mixed of Black and White like a lava lamp and floated in front of them

All of the kids: WHAT THE FUCK!?

Soon enough it opened and shoot a Beam of light up above them which started to take Aira away as Aira's body started to levitate and her hair started to go up as if she was being swallowed by a huge vacuum cleaner

The kids panicked and shouted Aira's name in unison as they grabbed a hold on Aira trying not to let her get taken away

🟡Aira🟡: DON'T LET GO PLEASE!

She shouted in desperation with tears in her eyes

Y/N: Just hang on Aira!

Y/N shouted desperate to save her

Unfortunately there hands slipped off of each other making them let go of Aira and made the rest fall back to there asses to the floor and watched as there friend get taken away

🟠Leiz🟠: AIRA! NOO!!!

Leiz screamed her name as tears came up from her eyes

Suddenly the Book then shoot the next beam which was Red onto the floor which swallowed the rest of the gang up

Screams was heard and then silence....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zara slowly opened her eyes and slowly sat up rubbing her head with her right hand trying to stop the aching headache she was having and let her vision to focus on what was infront of her

🟢Zara🟢: Ugh...wh-where...WHAT THE FUCK!?

Zara shouted in fear at what was infront of her and as she backs away she saw at her right side of view an unconscious Y/N

Zara was still looking what was infront of her while she wakes up Y/N with her right hand shaking Y/N awake

🟢Zara🟢: Y/N, Y/N wake the fuck up right now!

She said in a trembling voice, wide eyes and a wary smile in a low tone of voice

Y/N groans

⚪Y/N⚪: What is it Za- OH MY GOSH!

Y/N shouted and hugged Zara and so did Zara with Y/N as they held eachother

There we're 4 Creatures standing infront of them...

The first one that was on there left side of there view was a 10ft tall slender moth demon with greyish-lavender skin and cerise-pink eyes, over which he is always depicted wearing gold-rimmed, heart-shaped sunglasses with cerise-pink lenses

His mouth full of sharp, cerise-pink colored teeth, with a single golden fang that sits to his far left of center as he grinned at Zara and Y/N after blowing out a red smoke

He is bald with moth-like antennae; the right appearing like a large white with black heart striped feather while the left appears smaller and lacking the white areas. He has an extra set of arms just above his hips. His hands and forearms are black.

He has a pair of red floor-length coat with white fur at the wrists, as well as black and white striped fur trim down the center-front to the bottom hem and three white stripes on both hips. This coat is pinned with a gold chain and gold love-heart shaped broach fastenings at the breast

Little does Zara and Y/N knows those we're there wings wrapped around the tall figure making look like it was a coat

The next one was beside the tall Moth Figure who is 6ft tall, slim demon with cedar-brown skin, and long curly hair kept into pigtails with bangs by black hair ties. Her hair is colored in a desire-red that features the insides colored in a dark navy-blue, and white swirled-streaks on her pigtails and one on her bangs.

Her eyes have white irises, red sclera and slit pupils, and her makeup consists of burgundy eyeshadow on her eyelids, and black lipstick on her lips with a strip across the center of her mouth, and fangs inside.

Her clothing is that of white skull-shaped earrings, and a sleeveless navy-blue coat with burgundy lining and two desire-red hearts on the left side of the fur collar. Her coat is usually worn over a sleeveless, black turtlenecked crop-top that includes two desire-red hearts on the chest. Her set of loose-pants are colored in navy-blue and desire-red in a striped-pattern, held by a black belt with a white heart-shaped buckle.

For footwear, she wore black heels with white pom-poms on top. She accessorized with black-striped fingerless opera gloves with alternating colors - white for her right glove and desire for her left.

And the right next to that girl was a 7ft tall Figure

He sports a flat-screen television for a head, with the monitor projecting eyes with red sclera, small cyan pupils and different colored outlines black for his right and cyan for his left

The screen also shows a mouth full of sharp, cyan-colored teeth

He appears to have dark navy-blue skin with sharp, cyan claw-like fingers.

The figure wears a navy-blue tuxedo with the jacket sporting coattails, red-trimmed cyan lapels, thin cyan stripes and cyan lining, worn over a red-and-black striped waistcoat which itself is worn over a collared bluish-white shirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol and a rather large, red bowtie. He also wears heeled dark gray dress shoes with cyan-colored laces, toes, and tips on the heels.

He also wears a black top hat on his head, with red and blue designs reminiscent of a broadcast symbol and radio wave symbol, respectively. He has TV antennae that stick out the top of the hat, the right one bent into a zigzag

And lastly to the right of the TV head Figure was also a 6ft Female that resembles a young girl with dark gray skin, long red and faded black hair that's in a ponytail being tied up by a red ribbon, eyes white sclera and large, red right irises(on her right side) with a black irises(on her left side) with no pupils, along with white freckles on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She has black feathered wings on her back and has small red horns on the side of her head and a red demon tail with the upside down heart shape on the end of it as colored black

She wears mostly a red dress with short, puffy black sleeves with darker cuffs, a red ribbon around her waist, a black skull pattern on her chest, and a short red skirt, Black and red stripes long gloves. She also wears a black long boots on her feet and Black and Red strip long socks

???: Well, Well, Well...What kind of Fresh meat do we have here~?

The Tall Moth Figure said with a bright grin on his face which made Zara and Y/N Shiver in fear and discomfort

???: There minors Valentino!

The further right figure shouted in anger

Valentino: Ok I'm not THAT perverted Emily who do you think I am? I was just saying "Hi~"

Emily: Ugh...

???: A piss baby that's what you are Val

She exclaimed cutting "Emily?" Off

Valentino: What the fuck did you just said Velvette!?

He shouted at "Velvette?" That was next to him looking at her phone still looking annoyed to the point she rolled her eyes on Valentino before sneering at him looking up

Velvette: You deaf or something? I said your a PISS BABY

She pointed at him with her left hand that was holding her phone is on her hip with the Back of the palm

Valentino: Why I atah-

???: ENOUGH from the both of you

The TV Headed Figure said in anger with his left eye spiraling in Black

Vox: Excuse my colleagues little ones, But let me introduce myself the names Vox co-owner and CEO of Voxtech

He reached out his hand for one of them to shake it and so Y/N shook his hand and then Y/N was taken of guard when Vox helped them up

Vox: Beside me are my colleagues

Over here is Val

He said as he gesture for the 10ft tall Gray and bald Moth who puffed out a red heart smoke and grinned at them

Vox: And over here is Velvette or Vel for short

Velvette: Smile Bitches!

Velvette took a pic of Y/N and Zara

Unfortunately before Velvette could post it Vox took the Battery life of Velvette's Phone by shooting a small electrical current to it making it glitched and power down because of low battery

Velvette: HEY! WHAT GIVES VOX!?

She shouted at Vox before crossing her arms before turning her body away from him

Vox: It's better not to let the OTHERS know that there are LITERAL living HUMANS in our building

Your lucky I didn't decide to obliterate it!

He chuckled before pulling the Red hair girl beside him by her hip

Vox: And lastly this girl over here is my Partner Emily

Emily: Hello

She smiled sweetly as she waves at them

Zara stood by herself and her hands where inside the pockets of her pants as she looked up at them wishing this was a nightmare but it wasn't because of the headache as proof that this was indeed real because you can't feel pain in your dreams...

Y/N: Well my name is Y/N and This over here beside me is Zara

Y/N gesture to Zara that was beside them looking worried and uneasy

🟢Zara🟢: Hey...

She said with a low and stern voice

Y/N: If you 4 don't mind me asking but uh...where are we and how did we get here?

Y/N asked confused as they look around and observed there surroundings

It looks like they we're in a conference room with a huge aquarium surrounding them with a shark and a hammer head shark inside of the aquarium swimming around near the glass

Vox: The both of you are in my Conference room below my Monitor Room and as for the second question Emily can tell you what happened

Y/N and Zara looked at Emily confused as Emily was a bit nervous as she look back at The 3 V's which the 3 just gave her a thumbs up

Emily: Well you see...

===============================

Flashback...

===============================

The 3 Vee's and Emily aka Vox Assistant and Girlfriend we're about to arrive at the V Tower until 2 unexpected guests we're met on the way

Valentino: Can you believe it!? The Bitch fucking left after round fucking 2 and she's already tired?

Like the Motherfucker is so fucking Weak that even a stupid ass Hellborn can last that long for like fucking 20 more rounds or more!

He shouted holding his long ass cigarette on his upper right hand as red smoke came out of it

Vox: Yes that is such a horrible HORRIBLE news Val

He said in a monotoned voice and doesn't look amused at all as he had his right arm around Emily's Shoulder while his other free hand is holding his phone as he scroll through his schedule for today

Valentino sneered and felt jealous as he watched Vox pulled Emily closer by her hip towards him as Emily is looking at her clipboard as Vox and Emily sit across Val and Velvette inside of Vox's Limousine with Vox and Emily near the small window to the driver while Velvette and Valentino is near the window of the back car

The limousine was Ofcourse all has Vox's color palette and techy aesthetic design

Unfortunately Vox has ended there little Situation ship ever since he got together and settled for a long relationship with Emily...

THAT BITCH

Suddenly out of nowhere Emily sat up straight her eyes glowed for a second and her wings twitches which caught the 3 Vee's attention immediately especially Vox's

Vox: Dollface? What's wrong?

He asked trying to hide his worry from his colleagues as he put his phone away

Emily: STOP THE LIMO! RIGHT NOW!

She shouted as the limousine went to a stop immediately

Emily opened the door to her right and got out of the limo and started flying towards somewhere

The 3 Vee's also got out of the car as they watch where Emily was flying off to until they saw 2 figures falling from the sky as Emily flies over to them and caught one of them on time

She caught Y/N on time by bridal style and watched as Zara fall pass her

She panicked trying to fly and catch her after putting Y/N over her left shoulder

Velvette: She's not going to make

She said while recording everything zooming in on her and the 2 figures

Vox: Shit, Val go help her!

Valentino: Wait, Why me???

Vox: You and Emily are the only ones who have fucking wings! NOW GO UP THERE AND HELP HER!

He shouted with his voice buffering from anger

Valentino: Alright! Alright!

He then spread his wings showing under his coat he wears a dark grey jacket that shows his chest, held together with two gold buttons, and with the sleeves rolled up, alongside white pants with a black belt that has a golden love-heart shaped buckle, and a pair of high-heeled black shoes. He accessorizes with a gold chain hung down to his chest.

Valentino flies over which made Emily stopped as Valentino caught Zara and in a bridal style too as the two then ascend back down into an alleyway where the other 2 Vee's run to as they saw them started to land to the ground

The two then put Zara and Y/N down letting them lay there back against a wall with Zara's head on Y/N's right shoulder meanwhile Y/N's head is on Zara's

Valentino stood up tall to his full height looking down at them with his right upper hand on his hip while Emily is on her knees looking worried at the two kids

The 2 Vee's has there eyes widen to see 2 Normal Human Teenagers in Hell without a sign of Demon form on them

Which Emily and Valentino just now realized it

Vox: Holy...Shit...

He said as he went down on one knee observing the two a bit closer

Velvette: Well isn't this a new discovery...never thought to see 2 sinners still in there human form

She said as she crossed her arms still holding her phone on her right hand

Emily: We...We need to get them back to the Tower right now

She said worried for the kids

The Vee's: Wait- What?

Valentino: Why would WE want 2 weak ass Teenagers let alone HUMANS to come with us???

Can't we just leave them here?

Emily: So!? There's just kids! In hell! And just like you said there humans!

They can't defend themselves out here with this Sinners and Hellborns running around!

She snapped her chest showing up a demonic eye while her own default eyes glowed Red and Black with small particles and see through flow on it like a flame to the sides

The 3 Vee's flinched a bit since they never saw Emily snapped like that let alone to them all

Vox then sighs before speaking

Vox: I'm sorry Doll but Val is right

He stood up fixing his suit after dusting himself off

We can't have them in the building either way where can we even put them?

We can't just have some random room be made in our tower and Demons being not allowed inside Ofcourse the media will get curious and might even try to break in-

===============================

End Of Flashback...

===============================

Velvette: Emily then used her "Puppy Eyes" look on Vox to get him to agree which Ofcourse always works on him like the simp he is and now you two are here

Vox: I'M N-NOT A-A SI-I-IMP!!!

He glitched with his voice glitched and buffered

Valentino: Yes you are Voxy, Yes you are

Zara and Y/N can't help but snickered at that but Zara immediately became serious after a second since again there in Hell

Emily: So yeah...you two will be staying with us until we find out how and why you two got here and let alone not have a demon form and the fact that if it's just a theory of you two don't have any form might means you two are still alive

Vox: Which is impossible since why would you two be here without dying?

Y/N: Well you see-

Y/N immediately got a hand on there mouth to make them shut up as Zara excused them both to be pulled into the corner of the room to have a little TALK

🟢Zara🟢: I don't trust ANY of them one BIT Y/N

We shouldn't stay here...

We should get out they might do something stupid with us or something

She said in a worried tone

Y/N: Zara, Listen...I get that your worried and is untrustworthy of them but we can't really do anything about it since we have no where to go and they just literally said we're in FUCKING HELL

Where we can be tortured, raped, kidnap or EVEN KILLED out there

The 4 of them is our only option

And either way that Emily girl did save us and same goes for Valentino

So it's fine

🟢Zara🟢: But what if they try and force us to do something we don't want to?

What then?

Y/N: We escape and figure something out from then...

But for now let's just give them a chance and trust them...

Alright?

I mean we didn't called ourselves "The Risk Takers" back at Earth for nothing

Zara looks away while giggling a bit and then soon enough sighs as she smiled up at them...

🟢Zara🟢: Fine...let's do it...

Y/N smiles and hugged her which Zara then smiled and hugs back before pulling away and did a little hand shake they made up together with the other group

🟢Zara🟢: Wait a minute...I just noticed something...

Where's the others...?

==============================================

End Of Chapter 2...

==============================================

A/N: Chapter 2 Done! I'm going to make a Poll for you guys to pick to who's adventure we're going to look at and what happened to them and where they ended up!

#hazbin hotel #Y/N #Zara #vee x reader #vox #valentino #velvette #emily #vox x reader #velvette x reader #valentino x reader #emily x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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dojunie · 1 year ago

Note

IVE BEEN WANTING TO GREET YOU A WELCOME BACKK!! 🤸🏻‍♀️😭 I WASNT REALLY SURE IF I SHOULD MSG, COZ THIS WOULD BE THE FIRST OF MY ENTIRE TUMBLR CARRER 🫢😭 BUT YAURSS 😭✊🏼 I JUST STARTED FOLLOWING YOUR ACCOUNT A MONTH AGO?? 😭 AND MISDIAL FUCKING ATE.‼️‼️ IT ISNT EVEN FINISHED, YET THE CHAPTERS IVE READ IS ENOUGH FOR ME TO KNOW ITS A MASTERPIECE FR 😭✊🏼 BRO I WAS LITERALLY READING IT ON A SCHOOL NIGHT, AND GURL WHEN I TELL YOU I COULD NOT STOP READING.BLOODSHOT EYES GLUED TO MY SCREEN, CHARGING MY PHONE AND LAYING ON ONE SIDE TILL IT REACHES A CERTAIN AMNT OF PERCENTAGE SO I COUKD TURN AROUND KNOWING I COULDNT WAIT AND PAUSE READING TYPE THANG 😭 SAFE TO SAY I DID NOT GET SLEEP 😭 I DEADASS FINISHED THOSE 2 CHAPTERS IN ONE GO, AND I SWORE TO MYSELF ID KEEP CHAPTER 3 FOR WHEN U UPDATE SO ID HAVE SOMETHING TO KEEP ME SANE. I LIED. I COULDNT HELP IT BRAH, YOUR WRITING JUST TEWW GOODD. I READ THE LAST CHAPTER IN SCHOOL, AND AFTER I FINISHED I WAS LITERALLY STUNNED BRO. LIKE WHADAFAK, I SAT THERE LONGING (😂😭) LIKE REAL NOT FAKE. I WAS GLUED TO MY SEAT JUST WISHING AND PRAYING FOR ANOTHER CHAPTER 😭✊🏼 I WAS DEADASS DYING WAITING FOR THE NEXT UPDATE BRO. AND I WAS EVEN MORE FLABBERGASTED WHEN I REALIZED YOU LAST UPDATED ON DECEMBER OF LAST YEAR⁉️⁉️ BRO I CRIED. I PRAYED, AND I CRIED 😭. I THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE ONE OF THOSE ABANDONED STORIES OR ABANDONED BLOGS 😭🙏🏼🧎🏻‍♀️ BUT BRO I LOVE GOD FR I LOVE THE UNIVERSE THEY BE WATCHING MY BACK COZ LITERALLY NOT EVEN A COUPLE OF DAYS LATER YOU CAME WITH AN UPDATE‼️ YAHEY😭🤸🏻‍♀️✨🧚🏻‍♂️ TALK ABT PERFECT TIMINGG‼️ BUT YAURS IK DIS WAS A LONG MSG 🤣 COULDNT CONTAIN MYSELF FR 😭✊🏼 BUT I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW, TAKE YOUR TIME WITH SETTLING IN, UPDATING, AND EVERYTHANG. YOU HAVE A LOT GOING ON WITH JOB HUNTING, SCHOOL, AND MOVING!! DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO UPDATE, TAKE YOUR TIME!! (Please update misdal soon 🙏🏼🧎🏻‍♀️😭🤣 ‼️half jks‼️🤣) BUT YAURS TAKE YOUR TIME AND MAKE SURE YOU’RE PUTTING YOURSELF FIRST 🫶🏻 LOVE YOUSSS ✨🧚🏻‍♂️🤸🏻‍♀️🫶🏻 STAY SAFES AND HEALTHY IN THE MEANWHILEE 😋🫶🏻🫶🏻😭 (sorry if I didn’t really make sense, English isn’t my first language 😭🙏🏼🫶🏻)

idk i think im in love w u

definitely need to put this under a read more bc i have been SCREAMING!!!!!!! OVER THIS ASK FOR THE LAST FEW DAYS!!!!!!! when i tell you im going to print out this message and stick it to the wall in front of my desk so i can see it every time i sit down to write najkdajdjsklajd nckdsn i love this ask i love u i love this ask i love you!!!!!!!!! im so happy the lil stories i write about kpop boys grabbed u hard enough to make u stay up on a school night, dying phone and all 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 as i was writing ch4 and starting ch5 i was thinking of this message like 'i cant let colorful anon down i have to get this shit out BEFORE 2024!!!!!!!!" AND SO BE IT IT SHALL BE DONE

its crazy to think that its Literally been an entire year since the last update and people are still so invested........... like im cryin a little yall are seriously the realest

i love u im not kidding this is my favorite ask of all time. i almost dont want to answer it so it can stay in my ask box forever but u clearly went all out in writing this so i simply cannot allow the world to not see your work of art

screenshotting to make it my wallpaper as we speak

i am dubbing you colorful anon, pls come back whenever you want even if its just to leave an emoji in my inbox when ch 4 drops

im going to staple this message to every wall of my house i am so honored to be ur first ask

going to OPEN the misdial google doc and write some more for YEW!!!!!!! CAUSE U DESERVE IT!!!! MUAH MUAH KISSES I AM TUCKING U INTO BED LOVINGLY!!!!!!!!!!

#dojun talks #dojun answers #BELOVED ANON #COLORFUL ANON #NUMBER ONE MISDIAL ENJOYER

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jadekitty777 · 2 years ago

Text

The Emotionalist: Chapter 3

I’ma be honest, I just found out that copying and pasting to tumblr is not saving my bold and italics. I’m too lazy to fix it, so uh, I recommend reading these chapters on A03 lol Particularly this one which is text heavy.

Prompt for Day 4: Sick

Rating: T

Word Count: 5K

Summary: Clover Ebi was a huntsman who, like most Atlesian soldiers, hid most of his emotions behind a mask of calm professionalism. That is, unless, one knew where to look. And Qrow looked a lot.

Or, 5 times Qrow learned to read Clover’s mood not from his face, but from his ears. [An adjacent story to Hunting Season Hunting Season; events from Qrow’s POV]

Ao3 Link: Burning like the Sun

Did you get the day off too?

Qrow leaned against the wall beside the Aceops office, left leg propped on the wall behind him and beating a staccato rhythm while he tapped a message back to his eldest niece. Yeah. Ol’ Jimmy has a heart after all. Got plans?

FNKI invited us out to a club. She replied. Rubes and Weiss aren’t interested but Blake and I are going.

He arched an eyebrow, snorting. Try not to blow this one up firecracker. 🔥🔥🔥🔥

IT WAS ONE TIME!

He could practically imagine the way Yang was fuming.

Another ping only moments later, Anyways, what are you gonna do?

Things. He thumbed out, eyes drifting down the hall. Still empty.

He didn’t look away until another ping chimed for his attention.

…Responsible things?

He started to type out one of his typical answers, something that fit the blasé and uncaring attitude he often pulled with his niece. He had a dozen he used on any occasion, but some of his favorites were ‘Responsible people don’t have fun’ or ‘Ain’t my style’.

Then he paused and wondered at the ellipses his brash and impulsive niece never used in her texting and wondered if this question was more serious than he was used to.

He didn’t have to think hard to figure out why it was there.

Swallowing guilt, he told her a half-truth instead of an uncaring dismissal. If you must know, I have a date.

That certainly started some sort of implosion, as he saw his niece start and stop typing for several moments.

Then, nothing except a big long pause.

Qrow realized he should be worried when a reply finally came in a burst of yellow text drawing itself along his screen:

Congratulations Old Man!

His shoulders shook to contain his laughter. I think my eyeballs just exploded. Then, with a huff, added, And don’t call me old.

You’ll survive. She quipped right back. After firing off a few annoying emojis his way, she finally said, Figured something was going on between you and Mr. Prince of the Forest.

Any amusement he had left died in his throat.

Blood burning, he typed back aggressively, Don’t call him that Yang. Ever. That shit’s not okay.

Why are you suddenly mad at me??? Even through text, he could hear her indignation.

He started to type rapidly, not even double-thinking his harshness - Gods, she liked Blake for maiden’s sake! - but before he could even finish, her next reply stopped him cold.

That's what you called him!

No I didn’t, He defended back immediately. Sure he didn’t used to be the most sensitive about Faunus discrimination. There were definitely things he’d said or did in his youth that he wasn’t proud of, with his jeering tribemates egging him on. And because he was an idiot so desperate for approval, he hurt a lot of people who never deserved it - but that was a long time ago, and he’d grown up a lot since he’d left his old life behind and better people opened his eyes.

But, his niece was swiftly proving that false, pings coming back quick and short,

Um yeah. You did.

Like two days after the whole arrest bs

During breakfast

I mean you were kinda rough but

Yeah

As the words drilled into his skull, they reached into his brain, pulling out a foggy memory.

He hadn’t been… great when he first stopped drinking. Better than most, aura was a blessing sometimes, but he knew detoxing threw him for a loop. It was why he often preferred not to.

But with James not willing to put them onto the field until they at least settled in and the kids got their weapons fixed up - not even him - it had left Qrow with little to do but ride the waves of sicknesses and nausea.

Still, he had made an effort to join the kids for breakfast, even if he couldn’t stomach it. It was important they knew - well, that Yang and Ruby knew - that he was still trying.

Those first few days were always the worst though, leaving him sweaty and shaky and just all around in a piss-poor mood. That day in particular, he recalled having just come off from one of the worst sleeps of his life. First at the table but slumped over it and clutching his cup of undrinkable coffee like a lifeline.

Yet Ruby joined him as if it was just another Tuesday.

And the small exchange he’d completely forgotten about surfaced like an oil spill on the ocean, black and poisonous:

“Hey, hey Uncle Qrow!” Ruby said enthusiastically, “Penny told us that when we get our weapons back, the Aceops want to take us all out on a mission together. Doesn’t that sound great?”

He scoffed, saying loud enough he knew every single person heard every single last one of his damn words, “Oh great, can’t wait for a prance through the frozen wastelands with Mr. Prince of the Forest and all his little woodland friends.”

He couldn’t recall exactly how anyone responded beyond a few uncomfortable laughs before the subject was quickly changed.

He especially didn’t know what Blake’s had been - he had never looked up.

“Fuck.” He hissed to himself, smacking his head back on the wall.

He… owed her an apology.

But first he had to fix something else.

He forced his eyes back onto his scroll, his turn to rapidfire back replies.

Well I shouldn’t have.

If I ever say anything like that again, about ANY Faunus, punch me in the face.

As hard as you can.

I want to go through the WALL.

Got it?

He watched the little drawing quill dance as his niece started to reply but never let her get there as he asked, Why are you repeating me anyways?

The quill didn’t come back.

His scroll went dark, then black.

“Qrow?”

He jumped, almost dropping the device. Looked up and around, to see Clover standing just a few paces away, eyebrow raised. His arms were relaxed at his sides, his own scroll held limp in his hand. But through the transparent display, he could see the polls newscast rolling, sound probably feeding directly into Clover’s communicator.

The sight of his ears, still in the near-permanent droop they’d fallen into since the start of the week, reminded Qrow why he was here.

“H-Hey!” He straightened up, corner of his lip pulling up in a half-smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Clover’s eyebrow only hiked higher, looking past him briefly. “At my own office?”

“Uh.” He articulated gracefully. “Yeah well. Figured you’d have the night off like everyone else.”

“I do.” Was the even reply, playfulness starting to glimmer in Clover’s eye. “Which only further doesn’t explain why you’re here though.”

Damn.

Qrow cleared his throat, trying to save himself by appealing to the clever idiot, “Lucky guess?”

Clover’s ears twitched, raising just a smidge, mimicking the slow smile gracing his handsome face. “Is that so?”

“Of course.” He jutted out a hip, placing a hand on it. “Come on, don’t act like you’re not happy to see me Clubs.”

The slow roll of the other’s eyes on him was heated and absolutely deliberate. “I’m always happy to see you.” The husky promise sent a thrill through him.

Yet, as fast as the flame was lit, it suddenly burnt out as something Qrow didn’t hear made Clover look down at his scroll, holding it tight enough he was surprised it didn’t break.

His ears had fallen once more.

“Anyways, I was just here to send off a few files Winter requested before I headed to the polls.” Clover’s tone was that clipped professionalism he usually reserved for the field as he walked past, opening up the door. “Did you need something?”

The change of pace took out some of his bluster, but he carried on as he trailed in after the other. “Well, I haven’t had a chance to see the sights lately. Was thinking you could give me a grand tour. Saaaay over dinner? Your choice, my treat?”

The other paused, hand hovering over the power button to his computer as he stared back at Qrow. “Not sure I’ve heard of a lot of tours that happen stationary in a restaurant.” The playfulness was back.

“Clover.” Qrow santured over, hopping onto the corner of his desk. “Come on already. We can even go to your favorite.”

This time he actually chuckled, finally booting up his computer. “I’m afraid my favorite place isn’t really your scene.” Clover glanced at him meaningfully. “Or your crowd.”

He’d guessed as much.

It said a lot about the soldier and the way he’d been treated over the years that he so quickly was willing to shelter Qrow from experiencing his own culture. He didn’t think it had to do with a lack of pride, but rather a lack of agency in his own position. A Faunus holding such a high rank in the military, being James’ literal right hand, should be something to simply praise for the accomplishment itself. A sign of times truly changing.

But it was obvious from people like Robyn or Jacques, who would so easily use that stance against him, that all Clover could do instead was constantly mock an image of perfection and pureness to the world so that they couldn’t tear him and everything he stood for down.

He was so used to doing that, that it seemed to become almost second nature to hide anything that might come off as ‘troublesome’.

Unfortunately for him, Qrow wasn't really into all that rigamarole. He especially wasn’t when he wanted this to work so badly - the conversation they’d had two weeks ago about his insecurities over his semblance had only solidified that in his mind. What started out as just a bit of flirting and mutual attraction had turned into so much more. Clover was special and inspiring in a way he’d never met before, and he very much wanted to keep him in his life.

“All I’m hearing is a bunch of excuses.” Qrow went in for the kill, leaning over the desk and dragging a hand through his own hair, disheveling it purposely as he put on his best smirk. “Come on Clover, take me out for a night on the town.”

Hook, line and sinker. Clover’s breath caught, eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, giving in with a simple, “I suppose dinner does sound nice. How ‘bout you meet me at the helipad docks at 6?”

Yes! Qrow did a mental victory dance, slipping off the desk. “You got it Clubs. I’ve got a few things to take care of, but I’ll see you then~”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.” Clover’s bright smile and raised ears was the last thing Qrow saw before the door closed.

He started down the hall, already looking up locations for a good clothing and cologne store when his phone pinged.

A message from Yang.

He paused, the conversation from before Clover’s arrival coming back in a rush.

Reluctantly, he tapped over to read it.

I dunno. I guess ‘cause you said it, I thought it was okay.

A hard knot of shame bunched in his stomach as the implications of that fully hit him.

“Shit.”

Six o’ clock on the dot, Clover walked into the station.

Qrow took a mournful moment to admire him. Despite neither of them saying a word, it seemed they’d come to the universal agreement that this was a date.

Clover had dressed down for the occasion, and though he already missed the sleeveless vest, Clover filled out the dark green turtleneck rather prettily. His pants were black and framed shapely thighs. Kingfisher was still hitched to his hip and the leather belt it was attached to had a buckle with a shamrock printed on.

And, of course, completely for Qrow’s benefit, he wore a single chain drop earring in the tip of his right ear, a set of silver feathers that hung at the bottom tinging together anytime he moved.

As he drew close, Qrow could smell the cologne he wore.

“Hey.” Clover breathed, eyes rolling over him shamelessly. “You look great.”

He glanced down, almost forgetting himself. He’d kept it simple, going for a pair of charcoal gray pants and matching it with a black dress shirt that had a red and white floral design on the inside of his collar and the rolls of the sleeves. He’d dug out his old necklace, the little cross settled over his heart.

But where he’d really gone all out was his nails - colored with a polish so dark blue it was almost black, with little silver confetti stars pressed over top with a clear coat. They caught the light nicely, little constellations twinkling along his hands.

The question on why he bothered with the effort still escaped him when he was about to ruin everything.

“Not as good as you, Clubs.” He tried anyways, even though his heart wasn’t in it.

Clover picked up on it immediately, one ear raising up like an exclamation as he asked, “You alright? If you’re having second thoughts-”

“No.” He cut him off quickly, not wanting Clover to think for a second it was about that. “But you might in a minute. I just… need to come clean about something.”

“Okay?”

Clover only seemed further confused as Qrow handed over his scroll. “Read it. Next page too.” He mumbled.

They were just screenshots of the tail end of his conversation with Yang, starting from the damning slur to her last words to him.

Clover was quiet as he read it, eyebrows twisting down somewhat as he swiped to the next picture. Swiped back and read it again. Neither his face nor his ears were giving anything away, as if he was completely frozen.

Qrow felt his anxiety fester the longer he just stood there, staring at it. Eventually it grew to be too much, and he blurted out, “I’m really sorry.”

Clover looked up at him.

On instinct, he looked away, then forced his eyes back. Look at him damnit!

“I-I know that doesn’t make up for it. But you had the right to know.” He explained hastily and then he waited for whatever punishment was coming.

He mostly expected a punch to the face.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Clover to just blink and hand back his scroll with a calm, “That’s it?”

Excuse him - WHAT?!

His shock must have been evident, because the other man continued, “Qrow you’re not the first person to relegate me to deer-focused idioms.”

“Doesn’t mean I shoulda fucking said it.”

A sigh. “No, you shouldn’t have. But, and take this as nicely as you can - I’m not surprised that you’re kind of a total asshole to people you first meet.”

Qrow winced, but didn’t deny it. He could sweet talk like the best of them when he needed to, but on a general day-to-day? Especially with Atlas folk? Yeah, he wasn’t exactly Mr. Nice Guy.

Still…

“Clover, don’t make excuses for me.”

“I’m not.” He insisted, placing a hand on Qrow’s shoulder. “Look, listen to me, okay? I understand that you’re human and that you probably grew up with a lot of racists throughout your life. I’m not about to hold you up on a pedestal above everyone else. This stuff is complicated and more terrifyingly systematic than even I like to think about most days.” His fingers squeezed, just slightly. “But that’s not the important thing. You want to know what is?”

Qrow thought it over, shrugging a bit. “That I... was honest?”

“No. Well yes, but no. It’s that you understand it’s wrong and are willing to change it. Most people don’t give me that kind of respect.” He insisted, pulling back to rest his hand on his hip. “You know what happened when I told my last boyfriend I didn’t like him calling me ‘Fawny’? He got mad at me, asked why I was being ‘so uptight’ about it. And when I explained, he claimed I was just being dramatic.” Clover rolled his eyes, spitting out, “Fucking asshole.”

Even though it sounded truly awful, it was odd that he actually felt lighter at hearing that - but Clover tended to have that effect on him. Somehow, he always saw the best in him.

Well. Mostly.

“Didn’t you just call me an asshole, like, two sentences ago?” Qrow teased.

He waved him away. “Yeah but you’re like a general asshole, not a calculated one.”

“And that’s better?”

“Will you let me compliment you already?”

“That was a compliment?!” He mock-cried.

To his surprise, Clover burst out laughing.

It was a really nice sound, and he couldn’t help but join in.

As it petered out, the two of them sharing smiles, Qrow admitted cautiously, “I’m really surprised you’re not mad at me.”

“Trust me Qrow. When I’m angry, you’ll know.” That promise sounded oddly terrifying. Before he could dwell too much on it, Clover pointed to his scroll. “But I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit - again. You know you never needed to tell me this, right? That you could have hid it forever, and I probably never would have found out.” He met his gaze, sincere and kind as he said, “The fact you did despite that says a lot more about the good in your character than I think you realize.”

Qrow’s eyes widened, a flush of warmth rushing through him. He might have been swooning. He was definitely blushing. “Clover…”

The soldier just seemed pleased with himself. Then a chime from the itinerary display went off, and his ear perked up before his eyes followed it. “Our flight’s ready.” He jabbed a thumb towards the loading station, giving him a wink. “What say we get outta here?”

Utterly enchanted, there really was only one answer to that. “Lead the way Clubs.”

The Dog Pan was a hole in the wall kind of place, right in the center of Mantle’s lower end district. It wasn’t quite the slums, but it was clear the side of town had seen better, with broken out windows and graffiti on most walls.

Yet, the moment they walked in, he could immediately feel the closeness and community that seemed to radiate from the very core. The windows had top curtains with little leaping dogs weaved out of yarn and privacy blinds made of bed sheets with colorful designs. They matched well with the walls where, in place of traditional pictures, were long, flowing, multi-colored tapestries with beaded ends. One of them depicted the God of Animals, another the Shallow Sea and the island of Unitas it banked. It all looked hand-woven.

The place was also packed to the brim, some of the chairs shoved against tables not matching as if they had been brought in. There was music playing but he could barely hear it over conversation, which seemed unusually loud; yet despite any eared Faunus obviously pinning their ears down, there was still a kind of comradery in the laughter and noise.

“Wow. I figured it’d be nuts but not this crazy!” Clover's own ears had dropped but he was grinning. He glanced at him. “You still sure you’re good?”

Qrow snorted. He used to frequent rave bars at an alarming rate. This was nothing. “You’re gonna have to try harder if you want to scare me off Clubs!”

“Clover!” The shout had them both looking forward, a plump and jolly looking woman weaving her way around the tables towards them. She had a skin tone that reminded him of Marrow and black dog ears that flopped over on the top of her head. As she reached them, she was quick to pull Clover into a hug. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight! You haven’t been around in ages.”

“Good to see you Maxi.” He replied, hugging her back.

She stepped back, zeroing in on Qrow, curious and welcoming. “And who is this handsome one?”

“This is Qrow, my new field partner.” Clover chuckled, patting his shoulder.

Taking his cue, he held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She shook it. “You as well darling. So, just you two then? I can’t get you a table, but I do have some room at the end of the bar.”

Clover shot him a questioning look.

He knew she meant a food bar, but it still settled like an itch on his skin. Shaking it off, he assured, “Works for me.”

“Lovely! Follow me.”

They picked their way carefully through the restaurant to get towards the back, settling into circular seats that creaked and had tears in the leather. The counter was worn and he could see words and symbols carved into the softwood. Maxi took their drink orders and, with her so close to the kitchen, was back within moments with a soda and a pot.

“Gotta say,” She said to them as she poured Qrow’s coffee. “I’m disappointed you didn’t bring my son with you.”

Wait…

“‘Fraid we couldn’t. He’s working security tonight.” Clover explained.

Maxi sighed. “Remind that boy of mine it wouldn’t kill him to see his mother now and again, would you?”

He gave her a two-fingered salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You just call when you're ready, dears.” She said before departing to handle some of the other tables.

Qrow leant towards Clover. “So she’s…?”

“Yeah. Marrow’s mom. This is actually how I met him. Saw him stop a whole tray from falling out of his sister’s hands when she tripped.” Clover told him. “I asked him why he wasn’t in the academy, and he told me he was. He just spent all his free time here, bussing tables and cleaning dishes. I knew ever since then that if I ever got a spot on the team, I wanted him on it.”

How exactly a spot ‘opened up’ was left unsaid.

Qrow could probably guess anyways.

“He was a good choice. Kid’s got talent, just needs more steadiness.” He said instead. “So, you’re the only one with the night off?” He knew Elm, Harriet and Vine were all working security for Jacques’ campaign. They’d been specially requested, for obvious reasons. Likewise, Robyn had asked for whoever was left.

“Perks of being Captain.” Clover joked. “And, James wanted Winter and I on standby.”

“For what?”

“For whatever happens once the polls close. Riots are uh, likely.” His eyes flicked to a TV set in the corner, and though it was inaudible, the picture of Jacques and Robyn on screen, the gap between their percentage ratings narrowing every minute, told them all they needed to know. “Among other things.”

Qrow kinda wanted to shoot it. “Y’know, I was trying to get you away from all that tonight.”

“Oh Qrow, I was always going to look. But,” He slid his hand across the table, the sides of their hands brushing. “At least I’ve got some good company to get me through it.”

Qrow hooked their pinkies together, a silent support.

“Come on, let’s order.”

Qrow had never seen a menu with so many post-it notes. The effect of the embargo was clear, as many foods had become too expensive or outright impossible to obtain - but anything with a cheaply grown vegetable, like corn or rice, or an easily obtained meat, like chicken which were bred plentifully or fish which was naturally fished and farmed out of the tundra, were still in supply.

In the end, he took Clover’s suggestion to try the smothered chicken legs.

Baked in gravy and coming with a side of cornbread and mashed potatoes, it was all sinfully good and filling.

He also managed to coax Clover to let him have a bite of his - the fried pike burst with flavor, likely attributed to its freshness. It came with a side of fries. Qrow stole a few of those too, mostly being cheeky about it.

Yet, as dinner carried on, the mood of the restaurant shifted. Conversations became hushed and subdued, a worry rippling through the people. No, a fear. If he strained to listen, he could catch snippets of conversation, whispers of what would happen to families stuck in the slums, of their children in the schools, of their jobs, their very way of living. Even Maxi seemed to hold her tray heavier with every pass, her smiles more strained. More people came in. Few left. It got so crowded, Qrow only had to lean back slightly to touch another person.

Try as he might to keep him distracted, Clover kept glancing at the TV. His ears were low enough, the feathers of his earring were resting against his shoulder.

As the last of the fries disappeared between them, Qrow asked softly, “You want to stay here?”

“‘Til it’s over.”

He nodded, and as their plates were gathered, asked for a refill. Sipped black coffee in one hand while the other slipped over damaged wood to touch Clover’s again.

After a moment, Clover reached back, nudging under Qrow’s fingers so they slipped over top of his own.

The minutes ticked on.

The percentages between Schnee and Hill grew smaller and smaller.

47-53.

48-52.

49-51.

At the final second, it hit 50-50.

The whole restaurant had gone dead silent as the polls disappeared, reporter Oliver Sikes taking over the screen. “And there we have it! The polls have officially closed and the final tallies are coming through now. Phew, what a close race. It’ll be just a minute now folks.” He rambled on for a bit more, detailing out the last districts that were decided on and the few they were still waiting on the exact counts from. But like all things in Atlas, his prediction was precise.

As the sixty second ended, Sikes was announcing, “Oh and here we go, I’m being told the counting is done! And it looks like…”

The polls flashed back on screen.

57-43.

“Jacques has been announced the winner!”

The declaration was like pulling the pin off a grenade, a sudden, explosive roar starting up around them as the restaurant descended into chaos.

The hand in his had tightened into a vice.

“What the fuck!” Qrow exclaimed. There was no fucking way, with a race that close, that Jacques pulled that much ahead. That meant some of the votes had been falsified. He jerked his head around, spitting, “Clover, that’s - Clover?”

Clover didn’t so much as respond to him, his wide eyes still staring at the screen where Jacques had started his victory speech. His face was completely motionless and impassive.

It was his ears that told Qrow the real story, as they had flipped back horizontally, the entire lengths of them trembling with barely withheld rage.

Just as soon as he’d seen it, it was gone when a furious outcry from the back had them both looking over their shoulders in time to see a man with moose antlers toss his chair. It hurtled its way across the restaurant and slammed right into the TV, shattering it on impact.

Had it been up to him, Qrow would have given the guy a medal.

Clover didn’t seem quite as praising, as he slammed his hands on the counter before climbing up onto it, shouting across to the crowd. “EVERYONE CALM DOWN!” He bellowed. “This is a Faunus-friendly establishment - a piece of our own community! What are you doing wrecking it?!”

Some people heard it, others didn’t, still arguing and trying to trash the place.

“No-No, please don’t!” Qrow heard Maxi cry just as one of her tapestries was pulled off the wall. Another person threw a plate on the floor.

A window cracked.

Sensing things were about to get further dangerous, he hopped the counter while Clover continued to try and appeal to the growing mob. Just as Qrow had managed to usher the sobbing woman through the kitchen door where the rest of her family was, ordering, “Get out the back!” he heard someone’s scream pierce the air that had him whirling around in horror.

“Wait, aren’t you Clover Ebi!? You voted for Schnee! Traitor!”

“Traitor! Traitor!” The mob chanted.

It was like a wave as they surged towards Clover, grabbing at his legs and trying to pull him off the bar. He yelped, grabbing onto a light fixture. It yawned worryingly.

“HEY!” Heart hammering in his chest, Qrow lunged towards Clover, trying to pull him the other way, kicking some of other Faunus back. “Let him go!”

The light fixture snapped but Qrow had just enough leeway to yank him down on the other side of the bar.

They backed up against the wall as the mob all started to round it and climb over.

He curled a hand around Harbinger’s hilt. Was he really going to have to…?

In the corner of his eye, he saw Clover desperately flick the feathers of his earring.

A second later, an unmistakable siren pierced the air.

Grimm.

Everyone froze.

Then some started to panic, rushing out the doors. Others flung themselves under tables or into the corners.

Sharing a look, he and Clover moved, using the sudden space to leap onto the tables around the thinning crowd and make it to the exit.

They spilled into the street and started running. The first block was for safety.

At the second, Clover finally managed to lift his shaking hand to his earpiece, “Marrow, report.”

Qrow grabbed his shoulder, pulling them both to a stop. He could feel the tremors leaking from Clover’s skin.

“Right. Roger. We’re on our way.” Clover dropped his hand to Kingfisher, taking a deep, steadying breath as he unfurled it. “Robyn’s party was attacked. A dozen people are dead and the grimm are flocking to it.”

Qrow gave him one last check over, just to make sure he was really okay, before he unsheathed Harbinger. “Let’s go.”

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #fairgameweek2023 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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fereldanwench · 2 years ago

Note

🩺, 💴, 👁️

Oohhhh, well, this is a fun set. (I hate that I don't have :bongocat: emoji on Tumblr, but pretend like there's :bongocat: here.)

🩺- Viktor Vektor

I have unfortunately completely dropped the ball on keeping up with this little story (although I have like 80% of the next chapter finished, I just need to remember how to make the words go), but Valerie and Vik actually sort of dated in the months before the heist. So a core memory? How about a snippet of the very rough draft for the fight that ends it. Context: Valerie was dealing with the anniversary of mom's death, which is a Complicated™ thing even 14 years after it happened, and Viktor just does not know how to handle things he can't immediately fix himself. (Also, he has intimacy issues and if Valerie isn't getting emotional support, she needs to at least be getting off. Particularly at this point in her life. (Sorry, Vik, lmao.))

“I’m just not good at the feelings stuff.” He forced a conciliatory smile. “That’s more Misty’s department.” “Maybe I should go date her instead.” Valerie dropped her arms. “You know if you just wanted a fuck buddy, you could have said so instead of pretending like you actually give a shit.” “Now wait a damn minute. I haven’t even tried to get you into bed.” “Right, fair point, actually. I’m practically throwing myself at you and you say just want to take it slow? So no sex, but I also can’t talk to you when I’m having a shit day–What are we even doing?” “Getting to know each other?” Valerie scoffed. “You won’t open up about anything other than boxing and beer, and when I try to let you in, I get stonewalled with ‘I’m not good with feelings.’ How exactly are we getting to know each other?” Her brow softened, and she looked at him with something worse than anger: pity. “Maybe this was a mistake,” she said quietly. Viktor felt his heart sink into his stomach. “You know, Jackie said this was your thing. You just bolt as soon as you realize someone isn't as perfect as you think you are.” Viktor had never seen her go so cold before. He closed his eyes. Fuck. “Nice. That’s very nice.” She grabbed her jacket and walked in slow, measured steps to the door. “Guess you should have listened to him then.” “Valerie, wait, it’s one in the morning. Don’t leave like this.” “Good night, Viktor.”

💴- Hanako Arasaka

It's kind of a cop-out answer because DUH but also I just haven't really explored much of Valerie's relationship to the Arasaka family because I am very intimidated by getting their characterization right: but I mean, helping Goro essentially abduct her and then sitting across from Hanako fucking Arasaka in that derelict apartment for 5 minutes before a bunch of 'Saka elites charge in is gonna stay with Valerie for a loooong time.

👁️ - Sandayu Oda

Kicking that man's ass all over that Japantown warehouse thingy during the parade. Sorry, Sandayu. SORRY, GORO. I'M KIDDING. WE'RE ALL FRIENDS HERE jfc

Similarly to Hanako, I've yet to actually really flesh out the details for the kind of relationship Valerie has with Oda so the canon events are what stick out to me the most. And I think those memories tend to actually revolve more around Goro than Oda, like remembering how Goro made it a point to stand between Oda and Valerie when they first met and how he begged for her to not kill Oda.

But I think they become friends eventually, and to that end, Oda showing his support to both Goro and Valerie when they go to find Yorinobu probably plants the seed for that friendship to start growing.

[cyberpunk 2077 core meme-ory game!]

#oc: valerie v powell #c: viktor vektor #c: hanako arasaka #c: sandayu oda #g: cyberpunk 2077 #t: wench replies #thank youuuuu my love #oc snippets

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cyberphuck · 2 years ago

Text

Collars Dot Com Ch 2: The Hammer of Thor

(Back to Chapter One) I shut the lid on the washer, started the cycle, then leaned against it as it filled. To the left the dryer thumped steadily, sounding like a particularly monotonous wedding night.

I'd changed the sheets on the bed, stuffed my bachelor-smelling comforter in the washer, gathered up the long-neglected laundry pile, dragged the comforter back out of the washer in favor of washing the clothes first, scrubbed the bathroom, sanitized the kitchen, vacuumed the living room, collected six thousand sticky coffee mugs and empty soda cans from my desk, wiped down every flat surface, and nearly thrown up twice.

I sat down on the arm of the couch, putting a hand over my eyes to try and keep them from falling out of my skull. I smelled like bleach wipes and hangover sweat and the coffee I'd spilled down the front of my shirt two hours ago and all I really wanted was to lay facedown in bed and sleep until rigor mortis set in.

Some time between changing the pillow cases and gagging on bile, I'd opened the DoorDash app on my phone and ordered two bottles of Gatorade, two containers of fruit salad, and two more bottles of Gatorade in case the first two and the vitamin C from the fruit weren't enough to purge the tequila and idiocy from my body.

I did stupid things when I was drunk. That's what had ended my last relationship, hadn't it? I'd gone out for drinks with some of the guys from work, ended up doing jello shots with a bunch of college girls, and sent a picture of my dick to everyone on my contact list-- including my sister-- with the caption 'THE HAMMER OF THOR!'

I'd woken up the next morning with a variety of responses waiting for me. From my boss, 'you're lucky you're the only one I can rely on to turn in scripts on time,' and from Alyssa: 'I'm tired of your immature bullshit.'

My sister had sent a thumbs-up emoji.

It wasn't the first time Alyssa and me had gotten in an argument over how I spent my free time, and I thought an apology and giving her some space to cool off would keep things rattling along. Instead she dropped her copy of my apartment key in my mailbox, changed her relationship status on Facebook, and posted several memes about finding her flame and not letting anyone hold her back anymore.

Then lockdown had started, my entire department had been sent home to work remotely, all of my meals came from no-contact DoorDash deliveries, and if I wanted to hang out and drink with the guys from work, I had to do it over Zoom. I hadn't realized how much I'd relied on visits from Alyssa to motivate me to give a shit about what my apartment looked like until...

Well, until about 2pm today.

This was going to be the kick in the ass that I needed, I decided. I wasn't gonna keep the Pet I'd ordered, but I wasn't going to mix alcohol and online shopping again, either, and I was gonna clean up after myself and have people over again. Or better yet, go out. See people. Meet people. Shave every day.

Someone hit the buzzer in the downstairs lobby. I got up to hit the unlock button by the front door, got another whiff of stale coffee, and jogged into my bedroom to try to find a clean shirt so I didn't look like a complete slob for the DoorDash guy. I tossed the dirty shirt into the laundry corner, stopped, picked it up and put it into the hamper, and pulled on an ancient band tee, the screen printing long since faded away into nothing. By the time I emerged from the bedroom, DoorDash was already knocking.

Usually I only knew my order had arrived by the swish of a plastic bag being dumped on my mat and the driver's footsteps as he walked off. But I had to sign something, I guess. They'd used to make you sign for stuff, before. I turned the deadbolt and opened the door.

There was a boy standing there.

Blond hair, big eyes, freckles and a pretty mouth that was currently occupied by some kind of black rubber gag. Behind him was a man with a moving dolly stacked high with boxes labeled 'COLLARS.COM.' Behind him was pretty much every single one of my neighbors, all out to grab their mail and pick up their newspapers and check the hallway for werewolves at once.

Fuck.

"Delivery," the man said, looking supremely bored. "For--"

"Yeah, uh, yeah, come in," I said quickly, backing out of the doorway and holding the door wide. The boy stepped through first, then his chaperone with the dolly, and I thought about how I was going to have to either find a new apartment or somehow keep living in this one without ever making eye contact with any of my neighbors ever again.

The man set the dolly upright and plucked a chunky black device from his belt, shoving it at me. "Just use the pen to sign," he said, indicating a thin plastic stylus swinging from the device by a tether.

"Right, uh, so, there was kind of a--" I began weakly, trying to give the device back.

"Hit 'enter,'" the man said. The boy had been wearing a sort of black smock, tied at the back, and his chaperone was taking it off. The black pants came off too, and the boy was very much wearing absolutely nothing underneath them.

"This was-- I can't--" I tried again.

"Arms out," the man said to the boy, holding up his phone to take a picture. "Alright, turn." He glanced at me. "Press the pen down harder if it isn't doing it," he said.

"There has been," I said slowly and firmly, "a mistake."

The man looked at me. I looked back at him.

"Are you Brian Stink?" he asked.

"It's 'Stynch,'" I said automatically. "Listen, I bought all this by accident, I didn't really mean to--"

"The return policy is on the website," the man interrupted. "Can you sign the thing? I've got other deliveries."

"But I can't." A misshapen silence popped between us; I'd been expecting him to cut me off again. "I can't, uh, take him, really."

"I can't put him back in the van," the man said. "I've already sent Proof of Delivery to the dispatcher, and I can't just stick him back there while I finish all my other deliveries. By the time I got him back to the hub, all the handlers'd be gone for the day. Sign," he enunciated, "the thing."

"Alright, fine, fuck," I sighed, scribbling something approximate to my signature on the heavy device and watching it struggle to accept my name with technology from 1992. I slapped it back into the man's hand, trying to show my severe annoyance with him. He wasn't phased. "I'll see you again tomorrow when you come to pick him up," I told him.

"I'm off tomorrow." He yanked the dolly out from underneath the tower of shipping boxes and turned to let himself out. "Enjoy your purchase and have a nice day."

I glared at the closed door for a while, entertaining all my fantasies of letting his employers know I was Very Offended and that they had better do something to make up for it, and receiving an email from the CEO begging for my forgiveness.

Maybe even a phone call. We're so sorry. We're so sorry. The mean delivery driver has been reprimanded and fired-- no, that was too cruel, not with the economy the way it was. He probably had a family to feed. We have sat him down and told him he has been a Very Bad Boy. Yeah.

I locked the deadbolt. And the horse you rode in on, I thought viciously, turned around, and remembered there was an extremely undressed Pet standing next to my shoe rack. The room congealed around me a little, going from the hot soup of righteous anger to the greasy leftovers of what the fuck am I going to do now in an instant.

God, he looked good.

I had been expecting him to be a little plainer than the profile picture I'd glimpsed in a drunken haze the night before. Nobody was supposed to look as perfect as their headshots, that's what Photoshop was for. But there he was, smooth and blemishless, the same buttery curls, the sprinkling of freckles like cinnamon on a macchiato. The mouth, which was still stoppered by the rubber gag whose straps were beginning to leave red marks in his cheeks. He swallowed awkwardly around it and looked at me.

I stepped forward, reaching behind his head and feeling for a clasp. The strap was stiff and new, the price tag still stuck across the cheap plastic. "This thing smells like a used tire shop," I muttered, picking the tag off and undoing the buckle. "Probably tastes like one too."

I pulled the gag out of his mouth. It was a couple inches long, wet and slick where it'd been pressing against his tongue. I wrinkled my nose at it and set it on top of the boxes. They could take that back, too. "How long have you had that thing in your mouth? Do you want a glass of water?"

The boy's mouth puckered; he wiped saliva off his chin with the back of his hand. "Yes, please."

I went to the kitchen, took down a glass, turned on the tap and let in run until it was cold. My coffee mugs were still piled in the sink, looking at me accusingly with sticky eyes. I ignored them and returned to the living room to find the boy standing just where I'd left him.

"Here." I put the glass in his hands. "Come on and sit on the couch."

I discovered, then, that it was possible for someone to sensually drink a glass of plain tap water. The movement of his throat and the sound of his swallowing was almost obscene. Maybe it was just because he was naked, or because I knew what he was for, but the lovely pink mouth was definitely in the lead for 'reasons I was about to make decisions with my dick.' I knew, when I reached out, that just touching his mouth wouldn't be enough. I promised myself I just wanted to feel the shape of it, his lips against the ball of my thumb, but I had wanted that mouth since I saw it on the website, had clicked yes and yes and yes because I hadn't cared what I'd have to pay to get it. I cupped my palm against his cheek and he leaned into it, looking at me, and I was pushing forward without looking at the price.

I kissed him because I wanted to feel the softness of his lips, the texture of them against my tongue, the sweet sound as we parted. There was a little hesitation when he opened his mouth to mine, as if he wasn't quite sure of it, like the sensation of my tongue against his was new for him. I held him still with a hand against the nape of his neck, where the finest curls of his hair tickled against my fingers, and let him get used to what it felt like to be kissed by me.

By the time I let him go, his breath had gone a little short and there was color in his cheeks and down his neck to his collarbone. His lips were still slightly parted, and I slid my thumb into his mouth. He made a soft sound as I pressed down on his tongue and bottom lip. He made that sound again when I pulled him forward for another kiss, and he slipped off the couch and down to his knees in front of me before I could even form an image of what I wanted.

Now he was looking up at me through his eyelashes and wetting his upper lip with his tongue. I took his chin in my hand because-- I don't know, I wanted to look at him, wanted to stay in the moment of anticipation forever, but with my other hand I took out my stiffening cock for him because I wanted it in his mouth.

He took the head between his lips, delicately, like kissing the first bite of a ripe peach, tongueing the flesh. He took the shaft in his hand and drew upward and I felt a throb of pleasure, my cock bobbing when he pulled away. He looked up at me again and I watched him take me into his mouth in one long, delicious slide, lips and tongue working as he sucked. He lifted his head, taking in a breath, then down again and I could feel myself in the back of his throat. Another shudder of pleasure, releasing in a groan.

I leaned my head back, listening to the sound of his mouth on my cock and riding each rise in tension, each a little bit stronger, a little bit longer than the last. I held my breath to make the pleasure hit deeper, letting it out when I was coming close to the edge. My back and thighs were tensing, wanting to thrust upwards; it began as a soft rhythm, then grew more and more insistent until I braced a hand against the back of his head to fuck his mouth.

I twisted my fingers into his hair, fucking into the friction I wanted, faster and harder, trying to come up short before I climaxed but tumbling over the edge anyway, coming hard with a hoarse, cracked groan.

I felt him swallow twice, then wrap his fingers around my aching cock and pull slowly upwards. I sucked in a breath, wincing, and put out a hand to stop him before he yanked my organs out of my body. "Enough," I panted. "Enough. I'm done, I'm good." He let me go. I took a few more steadying breaths, blinking up at the ceiling, and alternated saying "god" and "fuck" a half dozen times until I was able to think clearly again. It might have been several hours. I don't know. When I finally pulled myself together, I looked down at him still kneeling there.

"So," I said. "What's your name?"

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "My name is Ren." Kofi - Donate - AO3

#writing #fic #yaoi #slave kink #collars.com #Brian spends a lot of this chapter bitching about stuff

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