#sorry Tina that she beat you to it

[gildengirl]

"On the Tarmac, Agent Townsend whispered something to Abby, then squeezed her hand and kissed her softly when he didn't think we were watching. But we're Gallagher Girls. To tell you the truth, we're always watching."

- Ally Carter, United We Spy

[alisonsfics]

back in chicago - part 2

pairing: ex-boyfriend!carmy berzatto x reader

summary: after years in germany, you return to chicago and immediately run into your ex-boyfriend. if you thought it’d be easy jumping back into your old life, you were wrong. new people had entered carmy’s life, including a new woman, but you were still everything to him.

word count: 3.2k

part 1 / part 3 / part 4

After giving everybody at the Bear a chance to change out of their dirty clothes, you all headed out to the parking lot since Richie had suggested a night at the club.

“Alright, how you wanna carpool?” Marcus asked Richie, since they were the only two with cars.

“My backseat is full of shit, so I only got room for one.” Richie said, scanning the group for volunteers. In true matchmaker fashion, you pushed Maria towards Richie.

“Alright, cool. Maria’s with me, you got everybody else?” Richie asked Marcus as he slid his arm around Maria’s shoulders. You and Maria made eye contact, and she rolled her eyes at the giddy look on your face.

“Sounds good. Tina, shotgun?” Marcus asked, opening the passenger door for her. Tina was the mother of the group, which meant she got the best treatment and none of the teasing.

Tina thanked Marcus and got in the car. That left you, Carmy, Nat, and Sydney in the back seat. Nat and Sydney went to the left side to get in.

Carmy headed towards the back right door and got in, so you wouldn’t have to sit in the middle. Nat was on the far left, then Sydney, and then Carmy.

Carmy scooted as far over as he could, allowing you to get in. You squished next to him, but couldn’t close the door. “Here you go,” he said, moving his arm to rest on the seat behind you. You readjusted and scooted closer to him.

“You all good back there?” Marcus asked.

“Marcus, your car is too damn small to squeeze four people back here.” Sydney said, causing you all to laugh. You successfully got the door to close, but you were almost in Carmy’s lap.

You made eye contact with Nat, who was smirking at the both of you. The entire side of your body was pressed up against his. “This remind you of anything?” You whispered quietly to Carmy.

His cheeks turned bright red as you referenced your first date. Carmy had taken you to a concert in his small beat-up car. The date ended with you both hooking up in the tiny backseat and then getting kicked out by security.

Your phone lit up in your lap with a text from Maria. It read: “Sticking me in a car with Richie? You’re never gonna give up are you?”

“I wasn’t the only one who saw that between them? Richie was checking her out in the parking lot.” Carmy said, softly, almost making you jump.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop,” he mumbled after seeing your reaction. You shook your head. “You’re like five inches away, so I don’t think it counts as snooping.” You joked, making him chuckle.

“Yeah, I saw you nudge her in the parking lot. Good thinking,” he complimented. Giggling in the backseat with Carmy and trying to set up your friends felt so familiar and made you feel back at home.

“I swear, something’s there. They just haven’t admitted it yet. I mean, they’re both single. And you should’ve seen Maria’s face when she saw Richie for the first time tonight. It was like she was a teenager again, and she was blushing like crazy.” You told him, not realizing how closely Richie and Maria’s situation mirrored yours and Carmy’s.

As you both chatted, you and Carmy naturally gravitated closer to each other. One of your legs was now resting on top of his, and his arm was now casually wrapped around your shoulders.

Neither of you noticed Nat take a picture of you both and send it to Maria and Richie with the caption: “I think something’s happening👀”

You all pulled into the club parking lot and poured out of the squished car. You noticed the buckle on your shoe had come undone when you got out of the small car.

“Oh, shit,” you mumbled, picking your leg up and trying to fasten the buckle. Balancing on one leg while wearing heels was more difficult than you thought it would be.

You wobbled and almost fell. Carmy quickly reached out and grabbed your arms, steadying you. Watching out for you was an instinct for Carmy. “Thank you,” you bashfully thanked him as you held on to his arm for balance and fixed your shoe.

Richie and Maria got out of Richie’s car with giant smiles on their faces. “Looks like they had a good time reconnecting,” Carmy leaned in towards you and whispered.

“I always told you that they were perfect for each other,” you told him, smiling as you watched your friends. Carmy faked a shocked face. “Don’t pretend like I ever doubted you. I always knew you were right. You were right about most things.” He told you, chuckling to himself.

“I was always right,” you teased, pretending to be offended. Carmy held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He apologized, with a smirk on his face.

Maria nudged Richie, gesturing towards you and Carmy. They both shared a knowing glance after seeing the giddy smiles on your faces.

You all went into the club and ordered some drinks. You walked over to where Maria and Sydney were chatting. “How was your car ride with Richie?” You asked, smirking at her. Maria huffed and jokingly rolled her eyes.

“Wait…are you and Richie like…?” Sydney asked, not knowing how to finish the question. Maria quickly shook her head no. “Don’t listen to her. They had a little fling back when me and Carmy were together, went their separate ways, and now they’re both single again.” You corrected Maria.

“You know what? You get you some. Go for it. You guys would be cute.” Sydney said, jumping on the bandwagon.

“Oh, and you. We have to get you to come out with us more often. We can never get Carmy to come out drinking with us, but apparently if you’re here, he’s down for anything.” Sydney said, smirking at you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you thought about what she was implying.

The three of you girls kept talking for a while. You told Sydney about Germany. Sydney filled you both in on some of the restaurant drama. You all got along really well.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, but I’ll be right back.” You told them before heading towards the lobby. You knew that while you were gone, Maria would definitely let Sydney know about all the details about yours and Carmy’s relationship. You quickly went to the bathroom, thankful there was no line.

Meanwhile, Carmy had snuck out into lobby after getting a call from Claire. “Hey, baby. What’s up?” Carmy asked, cluelessly.

“I just got your text. You guys are at a club? I thought we were seeing a movie tonight. Your old girlfriend comes back to town, so now you have to go drinking?” Claire asked, infuriated.

“Oh, shit. I completely forgot about the movie. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He apologized quickly, but Claire wasn’t impressed. “That’s bullshit, Carm. Are you still fucking hung up on her?” She asked.

Carmy hesitated.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” He argued. He wasn’t necessarily lying. He truly was too in denial to believe that he still had feelings for you.

“Fuck you, Carm. Why can’t you just tell me the truth? You wouldn’t have hesitated if the answer was actually no.” Claire screamed at him.

When you came out the bathroom door, your ears were met with screaming. You recognized the voice as Carmy’s.

You froze when you saw him standing alone in the lobby on the phone. His face was bright red, and his hair was messy, like it always was when he got upset.

Your presence in the room caught his attention as his eyes quickly met yours. “Sorry,” you mouthed, trying to quickly sneak past him and back into the club. He quickly shook his head, trying to assure you that had nothing to be sorry for.

“Yeah, you know what? Fuck you too.” Carmy yelled into the phone before hanging up.

“Wait up,” Carmy called after you, grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“I’m sorry that you had to hear that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He apologized, sweetly. You just nodded your head, all too aware of the fact that he was still holding onto your wrist.

“You okay? That sounded pretty intense.” You asked him. He shrugged like it was nothing. He didn’t want you to worry. “It’s fine. Just some life stuff. I could use a smoke though, if you wanna join.” He offered.

You nodded and accepted his offer. It felt like old times.

He let his hand rest on the small of your back as you both walked towards the front door. You stepped out into the cold Chicago air.

“It’s still crazy being back here.” You said, scanning the city skyline.

“It felt like a big part of Chicago was missing when you left.” Carmy told you as he lit his cigarette. You admired him as he stood under the streetlight.

“So, are you back for good?” Carmy asked, trying to not sound desperate like he was begging you to stay. You nodded. “This feels like where I’m supposed to be. Germany was good, but it was not meant to be forever.” You said, reflecting on your terrible last few weeks in Germany.

“Did something happen?” He asked you, concerned. You hesitated before answering. “I got fired and dumped by my ass of a boyfriend in the same day, so it could’ve been better.” You replied, keeping your eyes fixed on the ground.

Carmy didn’t know what to do. He wanted to comfort you, but he was still so unsure of how to act around you.

He settled for a middle ground and held his cigarette out to you. You giggled at the gesture, before taking it between your fingers.

After blowing a small cloud of smoke, you handed it back to him. He stuck the cigarette back between his lips and realized he could taste your strawberry chapstick on it.

He wanted to kick himself. It was like he was suddenly a teenager again and remembering kissing you under the bleachers.

“I’m sorry about the job and the guy. He sounds like an asshole.” he apologized, distracting himself from how much he wanted to kiss you, even though he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about that.

“You don’t know anything about him,” you said, giggling to yourself. Carmy paused, realizing you were right and shrugged. “Yeah, but I trust your judgement.” He said, looking over at you.

He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. “You wanna head back inside?” He asked, earning a quick nod from you as you had started getting chilly.

As you walked back inside, you both saw Richie standing by a table with beer pong set up. “Yo, cousin, come play,” Richie caught your attention and called Carmy over.

You returned back to where everyone else was standing around a table. After a while, your conversation was interrupted when you heard someone call your name. You turned around and saw Carmy gesturing for you to come over.

“What’s up?” You asked, curiously. He grabbed your hand and slid the ping pong ball into it. “I have one shot. If it goes in, Richie loses. You’ve always been better at beer pong than me.” He said, letting his other hand rest on your back. The few drinks he’d had were definitely making him a little more affectionate.

“I still think this is against the rules, cousin.” Richie complained, remembering all the times you’d beaten both of them at beer pong.

You tossed the ball, and it sunk right into the cup. Your hands shot up in the air in victory. Carmy quickly picked you up and spun you around in a circle. You rested your arms on his shoulders, so you wouldn’t fall down.

“Carmy. I want to talk to you.” You both heard from behind Carmy.

Carmy quickly put you back down on your feet. You looked over his shoulder and saw Claire, who you vaguely remembered from high school. You walked over to Richie’s side of the table, sensing a tension that you didn’t want to be apart of.

“Is that Claire from school?” You whispered to Richie. He looked down at you and nodded. You watched as Carmy pulled Claire off to the side to talk to her.

“Shit, Richie. Are they together?” You asked, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Richie froze after hearing the words leave your mouth. “Oh, fuck. Yeah, I thought you knew.” Richie said, empathizing with how you were feeling. He rubbed his hand on your back, trying to comfort you.

You ran your fingers through your hair, feeling sick to your stomach. Then, all of a sudden, Claire was yelling again.

“What? I can’t hang out with you and your friends? Do you not want to be seen with me? Or is it because she’s here?” Claire asked, pointing at you.

“Richie, I can’t do this.” You said, pulling away from him and walking past the whole group, who was now staring at you. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep the tears from forming.

You snuck up to the second floor loft level of the club that overlooked the dance floor below. It was quieter upstairs, and you needed quiet.

You sat down on one of the couches as a few rogue tears rolled down your cheeks. You felt so stupid for thinking you could pick up where you left off with Carmy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone walk up to you. You looked up and saw one of Carmy’s coworkers.

“Can I sit?” He politely asked you. You quickly nodded. “Yeah, of course. You’re Marcus, right?” You asked. He nodded and shook your hand.

“I don’t want to intrude, and I know all this history with Carmy is from before I even knew him, but I wanted to see if you wanted to talk about anything.” He offered, giving you a soft smile.

“Thank you. That’s a really sweet offer, but I don’t even think I’d know where to start.” You said, laughing at how pathetic you must have seemed.

Marcus stayed by your side. He didn’t say a word, but he waited until you wanted to talk.

“I think I just feel lost. I got the job offer in Germany, and I almost didn’t take it because I didn’t want to leave Carmy. But he told me I couldn’t turn it down, so I lived in Germany for five years. I had a great job. I met a guy. Then, I lost it all in a day, and so I thought maybe I was never supposed to leave Chicago.” You started explaining.

“I came back to Chicago, and it felt right. Like this was where I was supposed to be all along. Then, completely by Maria’s planning, I ran into Carmy again. It felt natural. It didn’t feel like he hadn’t seen each other in five years. Then, I find out he’s with Claire, and now she’s pissed at me when I had no idea in the first place. I just feel so stuck, like everywhere I go, I’m fucking cursed or something.” You said, wiping away a few tears.

“Well, I promise, you’re not cursed. It’ll all be alright. I think you coming back just threw Carmy for a spin. He wasn’t expecting it at all. But you shouldn’t feel guilty because none of that is your fault. That’s between Claire and Carmy to figure out.” Marcus comforted you.

“Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better. All I have to do now is get over my ex-boyfriend for the second time. But I’ve done it before, so I can do it again, right?” You joked, trying to make the best of the situation.

“There you go,” Marcus said, chuckling, “I’ll leave you alone now. You know where to find me.”

You sat up there for a few minutes in silence. You stood up and looked over the railing at your friends below you.

You didn’t see Carmy anywhere and assumed he was somewhere with Claire.

That was until you saw him walk up beside you. He gave you a soft smile, not knowing what to say yet.

“I’m sorry about all of that. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into that.” He told you, sincerely. You smiled back at him. “It’s alright. I understand.” You told him.

There was silence between the two of you for a few minutes. Neither of you knew what to say to fill the silence. You both were also worried that you’d somehow make it worse by saying the wrong thing.

Even if it was just in a friendly capacity, you were glad to have Carmy back in your life.

Down below you both, you saw Richie run towards the dance floor and start dancing as Love Story by Taylor Swift played.

A small giggle escaped from your lips watching the pure joy on his face. “I have fucking missed Chicago.” You said. It felt like a scene out of a movie, reunited with your best friends in your favorite city.

“Chicago has missed you,” you heard Carmy mumble beside you.

In a split second, he was grabbing your waist and kissing you. You instinctually kissed him back, while your arms snaked around his neck. You twirled his hair around your fingers as he kissed you.

You felt like you were on another planet. You couldn’t hear the club music anymore and could only hear your heart racing in your ears.

Carmy tightened his grip around your waist, so you both were pressed up against each other. There wasn’t an inch of space between you, and you didn’t want there to be.

One of Carmy’s hands crept lower down your back, cupping your ass. You gasped against the kiss, shocked by his hand placement. You could feel him smirk. Nothing made Carmy cockier than watching the effect he had on you.

Moving his arms back to your waist, Carmy started to nudge you backwards towards the wall. Your back leaned against the cold concrete wall.

It brought you back to reality, and you realized what you were doing.

You quickly put your hands on Carmy’s chest and pushed him away. “We can’t…Claire,” you reminded him.

“Oh, shit,” Carmy mumbled, running his hand through his hair. You tried to catch your breath. You could feel your heart rate rising as the panic set in.

“I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t have,” you rambled, trying to quickly walk past Carmy. He quickly grabbed your wrist to stop you. “It’s not your fault. I kissed you, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He apologized.

“We can’t tell anybody.” You told him, frantically. He quickly nodded, experiencing a similar panic to your own.

You raced back downstairs. Once you got out the front doors, you started sprinting towards your apartment. You needed to get away from there as fast as possible.

You finally arrived at your apartment. You checked your phone and saw a text from Maria that she’d be spending the night at Richie’s. You wanted to be happy for your friend, but your own love life was spiraling

You laid down on the couch and burst into tears. It felt like you laid there for hours, until you heard a knock at your door.

You opened it to find Carmy standing in front of your door.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @mattsfavbigtitties @the-sylver-dragon @delicateholland @bwoah-its-g @kythefangirl25

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[thecapricunt1616]

Apple - c.b. one shot

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “Why?” he whispered, leaning in, more of his weight on your throat. The monogram was digging in, likely to leave a bruise. He tuts at your little squeak. “Don’t try to play stupid.” He leans in, his breath fanning your lips. “I was thinkin’ how nice it is that y’mine. Mm? How I can come take this pussy whenever I want” he trailed his hand that was thumbing over your tattoo down, down, down

*pretend this is a pretty cut ooo so pretty and dainty*

The fucking apple granite. The stupid, absolutely unnecessary apple granite. He had replayed making the dish in his head the rest of his shift, he looked right at it. He looked right. at it. Where the fuck was his head?

You.

His mind, it was on you. It was on that god damned tattoo you had shown him last week. In tiny letters - so delicate and pretty, dainty even - was his last name. Berzatto. The first time he saw it knelt before where you were sitting on the bed as if he were worshipping a goddess and hugged your middle, kissing your ribs just over the second skin bandage your artist placed for you.

When Richie came to the kitchen with a plate, there were a few confused whispers, when he walked to Carmen’s station, cleared his throat and went “uh- Chef?” Syd paid attention, because he was returning with a plate - and not joking about it.

“Yo” Carm replied not looking up from the oysters he was splitting for the next plate. Focused. Something he always was - used to be. Used to be - used to be. That’s what fucks with him, still. Each day, it got worse. The feeling, the pull. Whenever he shut the door to your shared apartment behind him, he was counting the seconds until he could return. It never used to be like this. This angered him to say the least.

“Table 13” Richie set the plate down in front of him, half eaten and Carmen quickly looks over, having realized the meticulous plating he quickly understood the work to be his.

“And?” He asked without missing a beat, his tone was growing more agitated, now. What, what could this fucking patron have a problem with? That was what he thought at first, until Richie said

“They um- the wife - she realized halfway that she didn’t get the apple granite. She asked if you can..add it.” His voice got small by the end. Richie knew he was sealing the god damned warrant for everyone’s day to go in the shitter the second he had come into that kitchen with a plate for Carmen, and a complaint.

“Add it?” Carmy snaps, before he angrily took the plate, chucking it in the garbage can so hard the glass shattered. “Comp the fucking table” he grabs another plate and both quickly and masterfully put together the appetizer they’d ordered once again, making sure it was pristine.

“Fucking apple granite” he mumbled angrily to himself. “Tina where the fuck is my saffron how long does it take, chef?!” He barked, handing the plate to Richie and he hightailed it out of the kitchen fast as he could.

“Sorry Jeff! You put it on the top shelf I had to have Marcus help me get it” she drops off the bowl of the prepared spice at his station and quickly heads back to hers. The rest of the day went like this, and Syd exhausted herself trying to keep 3 steps ahead of him to keep the peace in the kitchen as best as she could.

She wasn’t always successful though, of course. Carmen flew off the handle a total of 3 times that shift, and his throat was actually a little raw from shouting. His voice sounded a bit deeper and horse due to this as well. He had scrubbed the skin off his hands just about brushing the grout until it damn near sparkled, and wasn’t walking in the door until around 12:05.

You were in bed, laid up watching some murder mystery show per usual in one of Carmy’s older ratty white shirts with sauce stains and random holes from god knows what. Your legs were bare, shining from having been slathered in Carmen’s favorite scented lotion after you’d had a shower. He nudged the door open with his knuckle, and you just stared at eachother for a moment.

The vibe radiating off him wasn’t the most pleasant. You’d known he’d had a bad day from the look on his face and the way he was holding himself. “You” he said. His voice was raw and scratchy, curls greasy from tugging on them all day.

“M-me?” You sit up a bit as he comes in the room, the fabric of his jeans swishing as he moved, the only other sound the soft volume on the tv and the hum of your bedroom fan. He dropped his backpack at the end of the bed, nudging off his sneakers and tossing them in the closet with a loud thud against the wall before flicking the door shut without a care of how brutely he was acting.

“What’s our word?” He asked and you swallowed thickly.

Oh…oh- he had one of those days

“Cocoa” you told him and sat on your knees politely, sitting back on your feet on the mattress as he approaches you and cups your cheek.

“M’not gonna go easy t’night, m’not gonna be gentle ‘er nice. You alright w’that?” He held your jaw, making you look at him, your cheeks slightly smushed.

“Yes” you said softly, looking up at him expectantly. He grabbed his ring you’d bought him from the nightstand, putting it on his middle finger while he watched you.

“Wanna know what happened at work today?” He muttered, flipping the ring to the inside of his hand so the initials were facing his palm and your eyes widened a bit. “Mmhmm” he nods and your cheeks heat at the realization of what was to come.

“W-what what did I do?” You squeak. In response you felt the cold white gold on your neck, pushing you back to lay down on the mattress and light pressure, just enough for that cool light feeling to start building in your head.

“This” he rucks the shirt up with his hand, calloused fingers brushing over your ribs to thumb over the now healed tiny tattoo under your left breast. “I can’t fuckin’ focus” he rubs his thumb back and forth over it, tightening his hand lightly.

“Why?” You asked lightly, since you could only get so much air. His piercing lust filled eyes met your glossed out ones, hazy, blissed out.

“Why?” he whispered, leaning in, more of his weight on your throat. The monogram was digging in, likely to leave a bruise. He tuts at your little squeak. “Don’t try to play stupid.” He leans in, his breath fanning your lips. “I was thinkin’ how nice it is that y’mine. Mm? How I can come take this pussy whenever I want” he trailed his hand that was thumbing over your tattoo down, down, down, until its cupping your heat through your daisy patterned panties.

You couldn’t think, all you could do was watch the Saint Anthony pendant dangling in front of your face “huh? Who owns this?” He spanks your pussy lightly, breaking you out of your daze with a small gasp. “I said who owns you?” He growled in the shell of your ear. You felt yourself dripping, your panties were becoming uncomfortable.

“You-“ you gasp as he spanked you again, harder.

“Who?” He challenged, rubbing away the sting with his cupped hand. “Try again.” He said in that soft, nearly patronizing way.

“Daddy” you whine, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Daddy owns me” you widen your legs for him more, inviting him to take more of you.

“That’s a good kitten” he released your throat, kissing over the ‘CB’ that had been branded into your skin before grabbing your hips, and flipping you so you were stomach down like a rag doll. You gasp a bit, hearing the shhhlick of his belt after he unbuckled it and tossed it to the floor. “Do you care about these?” He snapped the waistband of your panties against your skin causing you to squeak in surprise

“N-no but-“

Your interrupted by the sharp sound of ripping fabric and suddenly your entire backside was exposed, “good” he said as he lined his tip up with your entrance. He holds you open with his fingers, spitting right over your hole that was clenching and unclenching in anticipation before thrusting in. You whine into the pillow, gripping the sheets with a white knuckle at the burning sensation as he splits you open. He growls hotly, pushing in deeper and you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

Tears spring to your eyes, wetting the pillow below as he used you. He spanks you, hard enough that the monogram of his ring would leave bruises on your ass to admire later before roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you back and forth off his cock. “So fuckin tight. All f’me” he moaned, head falling back in bliss. He spanked you again, and again, your ass stinging and burning as he fucked up into your g-spot.

You were essentially sobbing with pleasure at this point, face buried into the pillow, muttering ‘please daddy please’ - babbling really. You weren’t sure what you were begging for at this point, mercy maybe? But Carmen wasn’t offering that until you’d been broken tonight. “Yeah? Beggin me t’use you? Mm? You like being my little cockwhore yeah?” He laid over you, tucking his hand underneath your frame and finding your clit, rubbing back and forth over the twitching nub.

He growls hotly in your ear “hear that? Mmm?” He thrusts harder. Your jaw was slack, face smushed into the pillow as the cold metal of his ring assaulted your clit. You whine in response, listening to the wet smacking sounds of skin against skin. “Fuckin suckin me in. Y’looove when I fuck you like this huh? Tell me how much you love it when daddy uses this pretty pussy” he spanks you “go’head. Tell daddy” he purrs in your ear.

“S-s’much!” You cry out, tears wetting your cheeks and your combined sweat causing your bodies to move together with no friction. “So much daddy- I love it- I’m yours. I belong to you” you clench around him, unable to stop it as your orgasm washes over you, making it hard for him to thrust it was so intense.

“Jeeesus” he spanked you over your raw pink flesh and you yelp “pussy is fuckin swallowing my cock huh? Beggin t’be fucked like this.” Your taken by surprise when he sits up, taking your hair in his fist and pulling fucking you faster. The entire bed shakes, the headboard slamming against the wall in a quick steady rhythm.

You couldn’t even think of anything. Your entire mind felt fuzzy and your body was overcome with pleasure. You weren’t even aware of the noises you were making, you could only focus on Carmy and what was making him feel good. Your back arched slightly and he pulls you up harder, you were now flush to his chest and he takes your neck into his hand once again, squeezing lightly and you smiled at the heightened pleasure it brought, looking back at Carm lovingly.

“Aww look at you huh?” He rubs your clit quicker and your hips jerk a bit “so pretty. Sooo pretty when I fuck y’stupid like this huh? Look at this droolin on my hand like a little animal” he thumbs the spit from the corner of your mouth.

“I-“ you rest your head back, trying to catch your breath. He released his hand lightly “I love you” you said softly and he kissed your forehead gently, tenderly - before holding your arm behind your back, and pushing you into the mattress, thrusts becoming sloppier.

“I know baby- I know. Y’take me so well huh? You were made for this cock” he moaned, his hand coming down on your ass and you flinch a bit so he rubbed the sting away with his palm, spreading you out with his hands so he could watch as he pounded you. Just jaw falls lacks as he sees the strings of your arousal coating his cock, pulling back and snapping with each thrust. The sounds he was making were lewd and whiny and raw

“So fuckin lucky- god I’m so fuckin lucky” he breathes, tugging your hips flush to his, filling you up with a low grunt, his chest rising and falling with each pant. He carefully pulled out of you, carefully rubbing up your sides with gentle hands. “Y’good baby?” He asked softly and squeezed your hips.

You let out a soft mmhmm before nuzzling into the pillow and closing your eyes, stray tears falling down your cheeks. “My sweet babygirl” he said softly and laid next to you, pulling you to his chest and stroking your hair. “You did so good mm? Such a good girl f’me” he kissed your lips tenderly.

You looked up at him, still fully blissed out and mind swarming with nothing but him. “We gotta get you some water huh? That was a lot f’you angel” he reached on your bedside table, grabbing your big pink owala bottle and clicking it open, holding it to your lips. “Drink f’me- at least 3 sips huh?” He coaxed, gently kissing your forehead and brushing your hair from your eyes.

You blinked a few times, finally digesting what he was saying and realizing everything was over. Your ass was sore, your pussy was sore, and your mouth was stuck together like glue. “Mm” your lip pouts out subconsciously. “I hurt” you said softly.

“Yeah honey? S’okay, let daddy take care f’you mm?” He pressed the bottle to your lips “drink-“ he ordered gently. You obliged leaning in slightly and sucking up the icy beverage. As soon as it hits your dry throat you moan softly at the relief, eyes fluttering shut as you gulp down the water. “Thas’a good girl” he coo’d, carefully brushing over your brow with his thumb. “Yknow I brought your favorite chocolate cake huh? There were a few pieces left - took ‘em all f’you” he mused with a slight smile.

You pulled away from the water, a bit dribbling down your chin from how desperately you were gulping down water, unsure how badly you needed it before he pressed it to your lips. “W’the-“

“Chocolate ganache? Mm- even put strawberries on the top f’each slice sweet girl, made y’a batch of chocolate covered strawberries too a dozen of em. Couldn’t let y’favorite chocolate go to waste, mm angel?” He rubbed over your bum gently, taking his hand away when you flinched. “Oo-“ he hissed through his teeth in surprise. “And some ice f’this poor bum eh?” He carefully sat up and padded to the kitchen.

He came back with a damp dish towel and gallon ziplock full of ice, as well as a spoon and plate of cake and a few chocolate covered strawberries. He set the supplies on the nightstand, opening the draw and you watched him as he pulled out your ‘after play numbing spray’ as the bottle called it, and aloe baby wipes. He took out 4 wipes, gently spreading your thighs. “Tell me if it hurts mm?” He said softly.

You watch as he carefully flips you over and cleans you up gently, assuring there was no cum left dripping out of you uncomfortably before picking you up carefully and taking you to the bathroom, setting you on the toilet and leaning against the wall as you went, crossing his arms and looking at the ceiling to give you some privacy. “Was I too rough?” He asked quietly as you tugged toilet paper off the wall and wiped gently to avert the soreness.

“No” you replied simply and stood, flushing and going to wash your hands. He wrapped his arms around your waist, carefully lifting your breast to observe his last name inked into your skin in the mirror.

“Y’sure?” He ran his middle finger over it, your nipple becoming hard at the action.

“M’sure. Can you feed me cake now?” You asked, shutting the sink off and drying your hands before padding back to bed, laying on your stomach. He laid the cool towel, before the bag of ice over your bum that felt like it was on fire and you groaned softly.

“Mm- thank you” you rested your cheek on your forearm as he sat, holding a chocolate strawberry to your lips. “So what really got you all worked up?” You asked, opening your mouth and taking a bite of the sweet and sour berry.

“Some dipshit lady realized I f’got the stupid apple granite.”

Fin

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 11: Fistful of Tacks

Bearblr Promptober Day 11: Corn Maze

Summary: Carmen's girlfriend (who he refers to as Darling) joins the kitchen crew on a trip to a corn maze and pumpkin patch that Nat organized, and Carmen is struggle bussing. (Feat. Sydney, Marcus, mentions of Tina, Richie, Eva, Nat, Pete, Nat's daughter)

Warnings: Anxiety, self-worth issues, mentions of disordered eating, mentions of nausea, mentions of panic attacks, swearing, fem reader who is a trauma surgeon (nothing gross described), she/her pronouns, mentions of The Devil (Chef David)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

11 Oct 2024

Why the fuck do people like corn mazes?

No, thank you, I don’t feel like getting lost in fucking corn with a bunch of random people for hours; I could be doing so much more with my time. It’s corn. It invades everything in the Midwest already, for what purpose would you want to intentionally seek out more of that invasion? Getting some freshly-harvested corn for grilled corn, corn chowder, creamy corn sauce with gnocchi, I’m pretty sure Marcus could make a killer sweet cornbread crumble-type thing—sure, I’ll haul my ass to the nearest fucking cornfield—

“Is that a no on the corn maze then…?”

“It’s a fuck no on the corn maze, Syd.”

—But no, I’m not doing a damned corn maze.

Syd recoiled. “Oh. Alright, okay, Jesus. Sorry for bothering you.”

Darling hugged my arm tighter and pouted. “Aw, but I did them with my grandma all the time when I was little. They were so fun.”

I covered my eyes and dug my thumb and fingers into my temples to stave off the dull ache forming in my frontal lobe. “I don’t feel like getting lost in corn.”

Syd. “You just follow the left wall, though.”

Marcus joined us at our table. “You do what now?”

“That’s how you solve mazes, you follow the left wall.”

“Huh.” His voice drew closer to my ear. “You okay, Chef?”

I nodded. Still had my palm over my face. It wasn’t the loudest it could’ve been—again, we beat a lot of families with kids, who tended to show up after 2 pm, according to the people who ran the pumpkin patch and corn maze, and Chicago decided that particular Sunday would be the respite day of hell-with-some-respite season, so it wasn’t murderously hot or humid out. Richie and Tiff were off co-parenting Eva in the pumpkin patch, so that meant I didn’t have to listen to his bullshit—though, admittedly, he was much less bullshit since his stint at Ever, even if we hit that snag after Friends and Family where I thought about launching knives at him every time he happened to be within striking distance.

Boy, am I glad I’m too much of a coward to actually act like the animal I sound like sometimes.

Nat organized something of a family and friends’ get-together to celebrate half a year of being open as a restaurant—and maybe to force us all to take a bit of a break now that we weren’t looking at a bad week potentially shuttering us. I brought it up to Darling not expecting her to jump at the prospect of meeting the whole group—should’ve known, she’s a social butterfly, and, if I was being honest, it was the primary reason I asked. So, she could help buffer in a social setting. These were people I worked with, would take a bullet for, but outside the restaurant, I had barely any social footing. And I wanted to. Have social footing, that is. Darling liked being around people, and while she never complained about me wanting our time together to be our time together, something nagged at me to at least be able to tolerate socializing.

We met up and poked around the market they had nearby for some small decorations we could put in the restaurant that fit the season. Little things that locals made by hand—a macrame wall-hanging, little ceramic pumpkins with paper florals arranged in them, some planters. The planters were Syd’s idea. Bring a bit of greenery to the four-tops. Tina was fawning over Sug and Pete’s baby while they took pictures of her first fall. Or. Something. I don’t know, I had too much on my mind and my head was killing me before we even made it to the pumpkin patch and corn maze. Darling suggested we stop for a bite to eat, sit at the covered tables to get out of the sun for a bit.

She’s smart like that.

We weren’t doing the best with our margins. I forwent being paid to make sure Syd made enough to keep her apartment, and even she was making sacrifices in her pay to make sure front-of-house didn’t get shafted. About 2 weeks ago, my apartment's stove goes, then two of the radiators do, and the landlord—an aside here: fuck landlords. I hope hell exists so landlords can burn in them with me.—anyway, the landlord is being a shit about it, so I’ve been crashing at Darling’s place. But then her range and oven also go to the shitter, like, 3 days later?

Like I said: fuck landlords.

Which means I’m on week two of having to rely on overnight oats and fucking granola bars, family, and takeout or unviable food from service that’s still at least calories, and because we’re getting this shit dialed, that usually means scraps. If any. And you’d think a motherfucker like me who got his shit kicked in when working in New York would be able to tolerate eating literally anything, but that’s the thing—I already did this shit, and it’s already fucked me up. I can’t even get it down anymore without my arms and legs exploding in goosebumps. Without seeing, hearing, feeling, smelling Empire and The Devil all over again. Half the time, I just go hungry and ignore the pangs in my stomach until I get caught up enough in work that I forget about eating, and then whoops, 14 hours have gone by and I haven’t eaten a thing and bile surges at the base of my throat and my eyes water, I can’t breathe. And I get to Darling’s place with what used to be a local favorite, and four bites in, I’m so sure I’m going to throw up because it just tastes like stomach acid and my guts are twisting into knots from anxiety anyway.

Something slid across the table in front of me, and two breaths later, the scent of grilled meat, pepper, vinegar, onions, and mustard filled my nose. My jaw stung as my mouth watered. Darling untangled an arm from around mine and rubbed across my shoulder blades.

“How about we try to eat something, hm?” she cooed.

I picked the pickles off the Chicago dog before inhaling a third of it in one bite. Goosebumps exploded under my jacket.

“Wow, how’d you do that?” Syd asked.

“How’d I do what?”

“Get him to do, uh, anything?”

“Fuck off, Syd,” I said through a mouthful of food.

She snorted into her apple cider.

“Sweetheart,” Darling warned, punctuating it by raking her fingers through my hair to get it off my forehead.

“She did not just call you ‘sweetheart.’” Syd again. I could hear her smiling.

My face flooded with warmth.

God fucking dammit.

Thankfully, Marcus spoke up. “Come on, let ‘em have it or we’re gonna torment you when you find yourself someone nice.”

“Like hell you are!”

“Oh, I’ll remember! Karma, baby!”

Syd let out a huff of a laugh. I wish I would’ve seen her face to get a better sense of how she felt about the idea of letting someone into her life. It’s strange, really, how similar yet different we were, like two clippings taken from the same tree, planted in different pots, placed in different homes. There’s this deep, unidentifiable thread of connection that I feel with her—and she feels with me, I’m sure of it because how else could she call my bullshit for what it was while still preserving the feeling of safety that eluded me everywhere else but a locked room or, sparingly, though getting more frequent, in Darling’s arms? Sort of like a family member you haven’t seen in an eternity but you know would have your back in an instant if you got into trouble. If I’d found out we were twins separated at birth, I wouldn’t question it for a second. And I doubt I’d want to protect her any differently.

She’s got that fire in her eyes that I used to see in my own when I stared into my reflection back in Copenhagen. Feels like an entire lifetime ago (Darling told me that trauma can make time feel like it’s not real, and I’m only finding more and more reason to never doubt the woman) but, back then, I did want something out of cooking that went beyond flipping Mikey the bird. It wasn’t that I wanted the best chef title or even a bullshit star, I wanted to prove something to myself. I wanted to throw a fistful of tacks back at that persistent, shitty voice in my head that kept telling me that I’d never do much, never make a thing of myself. I never did well in school, I didn’t get into college, I didn’t have any friends, I wasn't funny, I couldn’t help my mom, I couldn’t stop Sugar from going mad, I couldn’t keep up with Mikey, I couldn’t ask Claire out, I never made it past districts in wrestling—I was good for fuck all, and that stupid fucking phonograph reminding me of all the shit I couldn’t or didn’t do wouldn’t shut. The fuck. Up.

Syd’s got that fire in her eyes. Syd’s got that passion that I wanted, that I found for a brief stint before The Devil sunk his claws into me. And yeah, I could do fuck all to protect Mikey from his own demons or Sugar from mom’s, but I will glass this planet before I let it stamp out her flames. And doing it like I did? By cutting out people and burying myself neck-deep in the craft of food? Would I stand by and let her do that to herself, too?

Darling erupting into a giggle fit brought me back to the pumpkin patch.

“It looks like it’s got a big ol’ pot belly—look at it!” Syd pointed at a pumpkin with a large lump in it and did an exaggerated walk with her arms up and her cheeks puffed out. Eva giggled at her antics. Darling and I were a bit away from the others as they discussed... something about the pumpkins, I couldn’t even begin to figure out what. I glanced around, tried to get a sense of where and when I was.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Darling murmured, circling around in front of me and taking my face in her hands. “There you are. Where’d you go?”

Her hands were cool, familiar, grounding. I didn’t feel like I was boiling in my skin, which had to be a good sign, right?

“How-how long, uh...?”

She shrugged as Cousin, Eva, Tiff, Syd, and Marcus laughed again. “15 minutes, maybe.”

“Why-why didn’t you snap me out of it?”

“Well, you did eat your food. I figured it probably was a good idea not to interrupt that. And you weren’t warm. Or shaky. Or upset.” She finger-combed my hair back again. “I figured it wouldn’t be the worst thing to let you process for a bit... We gotta do something about your hair, baby.”

“Yeah, I need to get it cut.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think you need to—unless it’s bothering you. But you should put something in it.” Some strands got caught on her fingers, and I flinched at the sting. “Ope, sorry. It’s starting to get crispy on the ends.”

I eyeballed the sign pointing to the entrance of the corn maze while she picked through more knots in my hair.

She kissed my cheek. “What’cha thinking, handsome?”

“How long do you think the corn maze would take us?”

“Um. Hm.” She wrapped her arms around my waist and tucked her head under my chin. I forgot about the friends and family present and hugged her back. Kissed the top of her head. “Maybe an hour. Why?”

“I’d like to try it.” It came out like a question.

My phone dinged.

She pulled back and beamed at me. “Yeah? You sure?”

Her excitement wrenched a smile from me, too. How could I not? She was adorable.

“Yeah. Just need some quiet time.”

She took off for the maze, and I followed. Glanced at my phone to make sure it wasn’t something important.

2 messages from Sugar.

A photo of the two of us hugging, followed by a message saying, “You two are so cute. I'm proud of you, Bear.”

I stopped, glanced back at her. She was holding her daughter, giant smile on her face, in the middle of pocketing her phone. She tipped her head in the direction of the maze and mouthed “Go.”

I saved the photo to my favorites album and headed to the corn maze.

[chefkids]

Have you considered making a list of all the predictions/possibilities and then checking off which are right?

Some of these are serious and some of these are not so serious

Tina goes full Mom on Sydney

We see flashback of Tina being a mom and starting off at The Beef

Mikey trying to set shit on fire

Richie flashback to Tiff leaving him because he's spending so much time trying to take care of Mikey

Richie accepts that it's over with Tiff

The staff hates Carmy, loves Syd

Richie plans on quitting but is convinced not to

Sydney gets sick/burnout and is forced to take time off

Carmy is put on time out for being insane

Nat, Tina and Richie threaten Carmy about how he's acting and how Sydney will leave him

Carmy meets Emmanuel

Syd meets Donna

Carmy helps Syd move to her apartment

Sydney throws up on Carmy

Sydney avoids signing the partnership agreement

Syd gets him to write up a new partnership agreement in her terms at the end of the season

Sydney calls out the I'm sorry sign for being useless

Carmy draws something specifically for Sydney, not just using the menu planning as an excuse

Carmy makes an overtly romantic move on Sydney

Nat, Tina, and Richie makes comments about the nature of Syd and Carmy’s relationship

Nat asks Carmy why he’s actually doing all of this when he had said “Fuck stars” and why he’s doing all of this for Syd and he finally opens up about his feelings to her

Carmy cooks for Sydney

Syd and Carmy table scene part 2 things go bad and she turns Carmy down

Big sydcarmy fight happens about her leaving and he basically says "I can't do this without you" and she says "Well I can, I did do it without you"

Sydney is offered a job somewhere else, tells Carmy she’s going to take it, but doesn’t in the end

Carmy tries to shut down The Bear cause he doesn't want to do it without Syd

Sydney has a feelings realization moment like Carmy did with the panic attack

Carmy tells Syd "I love you" while apologizing

Sydcarmy kiss goddammit!!! It's time!!!

They receive bad reviews that send Syd and Carmy in a spiral

Marcus receives some sort of high praise or award

Carmy gets credited for Syd's dish, rivalry/jealousy conflicts for how he's getting recognition and she's not

Power outage at the restaurant again

Carmy/Syd starts a fire at The Bear, probably Carmy sleep cooking

Carmy hallucinations/sleepwalking nightmares while cooking

Carmy ingests hallucinogenic mushrooms, accidentally

Sydney stabs Carmy

Someone yells at Sydney and then something awful happens to them #sydkarma

Carmy has a dream about Syd

Carmy's old Chef actually comes to The Bear

The Bear Cookbook offer

Natalie is mad at Donna because she thinks she didn't show up to F&F night

Ebra's sandwich window is popping off

OG neighborhood locals hate on the restaurant and try to sabotage it

Marcus makes a new donut

Marcus handles grief pretty well actually, meanwhile Syd and Carmy respiral with their own mommy issues/death grief

Carmy becomes paranoid about every guy after he finds out Marcus ask Sydney out

Luca offers Marcus a job

Carmy avoids going into the walk in for a while

Richie/Fak try to secretly set Carmy and Claire up in a “chance encounter” so he’ll see her again

Claire tries to get back with Carmy because Fak tells her that he loves her

Carmy turns down Claire and tells her he was not in love with her

The extended Faks try to beat up Carmy

Claire connects the dots between Syd and Carmy

Fak realizes Carmy likes Syd and is completely shook

Pete tells them they have a very very small chance of meeting Jimmy's payment deadline

Donna apologizes to Nat and Carmy

Donna gives them the money to save The Bear. Sells her house?

Chris Storer is forced to respond to his crimes

[yellowharrington]

jaded -- chapter 2, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: smoking (both carmy and reader), mention of sexual content, a bit of angst. minors dni with this story please.

word count: 2k

a/n: chapter 2 is here! ty for reading and interacting w this story i very much appreciate it <3 this chapter is a bit angsty and a bit fluffy, pls enjoy!

summary: after you and carmy hook up, things change.

masterlist | chapter 1 | chapter 3

Carmy isn’t good at hookups. Especially after spectacularly fucking it up with Claire, a girl he knew deep down was probably his soulmate, he was feeling pretty fucking gross about the whole thing. He doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve any of it, and pumping his loneliness into his pastry chef probably isn’t a great idea either. It felt so good in the moment, his hands wrapped around her throat and in her hair, pouring it all out into the messy thrusts. He just thought about how he wasn’t good enough for this, and was just a broken, broken person. 

You knew it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, and you’d heard whispers about Claire in the kitchen between Carmen and Ritchie, and obviously there was a history there. You had tried to pry the story out of Sydney, but she was all tight-lipped about the whole thing, not wanting to “gossip” at work. In reality, you knew she knew Claire and had heard more about what had happened on opening night, and probably just didn’t want to repeat the story to anyone. You could respect it, but at the same time, you needed to know how deep this shit went before you started being your boss’s rebound.

The kitchen that afternoon when you come in for your shift is awkward, to say the least. You ignore him, he ignores you, but it’s tense. When he sees you, all he sees is your lips hung open, moans escaping against his skin, his loose gold chain between your teeth as he plunges into you, over and over and over and…

“Behind, Jeff! Fuck, what is up with you today? Your mind is somewhere else,” Tina breaks him out of his daydream, watching as you ice the dessert in front of you, focusing on the even layers of chocolate buttercream. And you’re not laughing, no, because you don’t know if he’s daydreaming about you or still has his mind on Claire, and even though you may have a big ego, it’s not big enough to think he’s distracted by you at work. It was one fuck, one night, one mistake between two coworkers that you’d never speak of again.

“Outside, now, chef,” he’s suddenly at your station, looming over you just as you were getting lost in the frosting. “I’m fucking busy, Carm-“ you started, before his hand came down on the stainless steel beside you, gripping the edge of the counter. “Now, chef. Please.” You place the offset spatula on the clean plate beside your cake, glaring at him as you walked out back. He immediately pulled out a cigarette to put between his lips, letting the chilled air hit the bare skin of his arms. “What the fuck do we do?” he asks, more into the air than directly to you. You tighten your apron around your waist, crossing your arms over your chest. “Probably fuckin’ prep for service and serve rich assholes some marinated radishes. What the fuck else would we be doing?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, and it’s sharper than he intends. “No, I mean,-“ “Look, you’re the one who left in the middle of the night, alright? You’re the one who snuck out and went home before I could say anything or we could come up with a game plan. I don’t care that we fucked, we can forget it, I won’t talk about it again. Swear on my fuckin’ life,” you grab the cigarette from between his fingers and put it between your own lips. “But don’t act like I’m crazy, or like it’s my fucking fault, alright?” There’s a beat as you take a puff of his cigarette, smashing it beneath the toe of your shoe into the concrete. “Sorry for leaving,” he says, finally, “Didn’ know what else to do.” You shrugged. “Whatever, Carm, it doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t want it to. I’ll live and let live if you will. Just be fuckin’ cool, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want people to know that I fucked my boss, or whatever.” He smirks, “Heard, chef.” 

And it all seems alright for a bit. The kitchen is back to normal, you’re back on pace, and you and Carmy are fine. 

- 

The weeks pass and the world falls back into its natural orbit. There’s a hookup here and there, a few nights where he comes home with you after service, all under the guise of a drive home. You feel obligated to invite him up for something to eat (because God knows he hasn’t all fucking day), and before you can get in the door he’s already hot on your heels and breathing down the back of your neck. And there you are, breath hitched in your throat, struggling to get the door open, feeling his hand come around your front and slide into the waistband of your jeans.

Sometimes he stays, sometimes he doesn’t. It’s a toss up if you have to be in for service the next morning, and you usually hear him grabbing his coat from where it’s laid on the kitchen table, the jingle of his car keys in the right-hand side pocket being just loud enough to wake you from your deep slumber. Sometimes you’re coherent enough to ask him to stay, but he’s got one foot out the door and he can easily pretend not to hear you. And it’s fine, really.

A Saturday rolls around, the busiest day of the week, and there’s a few mumbles around the kitchen that Carmy’s in a bad mood today, and he’s not to be fucked with.

You were nothing if not nosy, so when Richie and Natalie are having a heated conversation in the dining room before prep starts, you can’t help but insert yourself. “What’s up, guys? Everything chill?” Richie shot you a look, but not before leaning down closer to your ear, sworn to secrecy.“Claire bitched out Carmy on a drunk phone call last night,” He starts, before Natalie can stop him. “No, it wasn’t-“ “Yeah, it was. It was gnarly. She finally actually got mad about opening night and let him fuckin’ have it, good for her,” he laughs, letting his hands plunge into his pockets. “What did she say?” Natalie’s sweet voice was a sharp contrast to Richie’s, low, and soft, when she replied, “He didn’t say much. Just that she called, and he had his stupid sad puppy dog eyes on, so obviously she must’ve said some… stuff.”

Carmy was scrubbing the floors of the kitchen, head down, obviously not taking any notice to the mini staff meeting in the dining room. “Just don’t mention it, ‘kay? I don’t think anyone’s supposed to know. He hasn’t heard from her in weeks and now he’s all fucked up over it, he’ll probably be a real bitch later.” “Heard, chef. Will try not to piss off Princess Carmy.”

The service isn’t so bad. Carmy’s mopey - downturned eyes, less yelling than you’d anticipated. It’s almost scary; seeing him rather calm, a little sad, reduced to a heartbroken boy who just feels fucking bad for himself. You try to stay out of his way, focusing on getting plates of custard and cake out in time, with no mistakes. It’s a lot of ‘yes chef, thank you chef, great chef’. You’d almost actually prefer it like this.

You find him out back having a cigarette right before you’re gonna head out. He hasn’t bothered to put his sweater or coat on, arms bare against the cold night air as he blows the hot smoke into a cloud above him. “Hey,” you start, sitting next to him. It feels a little odd to be close to him - intimate, in a way that you’re not used to. “You seemed off tonight. Is something up?” You put your hand out expectantly for a cigarette, and he obliges, with his lighter to follow. 

“No, chef,” he starts, dusting some salt from the street off his shoe. “Thank you though.” “You know I don’t have to be chef outside of that kitchen,” you bump a shoulder with him. “You’ve called me a lot of other names, God knows.” He stifles a laugh and looks at you again, with a softness in his features you’d never really seen before. “I just had a rough night last night, is all,” he finishes. “Just feels so fucking bad. I feel like I’m so bad at… this.” He gestures to the night sky around him. “I don’t know how to balance anything. I keep… I keep fucking losing people. People I like, people… people I fucking love. And like, what am I supposed to do about that?” You can see his face get hot as he lets the heel of his hand rub his eye. “You let it happen,” you finish, taking a puff of your own cigarette. “You do what you can and you let yourself feel it and you mourn and grieve until you can’t anymore, until it doesn’t feel right to anymore.”

He nods in agreement, letting you both smoke in silence. “Can I give you a ride home?” He asks, and you know what that means. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “Sure, thanks. Go get your stuff, I’ll wait here.” When he’s back, he locks the back door of the restaurant and lets you stand up first, following behind you.

When you make it back to your place, it’s different. He’s comfortable here now, having been in your space enough times to know where he was welcomed. Normally, it goes like, he’s panting down your neck before you can even get in the door, and once he’s put his stuff down, the back of your knees are hitting the mattress, wet sloppy kisses along your collarbones and neck, down over your breasts and down down down…

But he’s not being like that. When he sets his coat down, he finds his way to your couch. You pull a glass out of the cupboard to fill with ice and cold water, handing it to him before doing the same for yourself. “Can we… can we go to bed?” He asks, and it’s softer than usual. “Sure,” you smile, opening the door to your bedroom and watching as he strips bare, before pulling out a pair of grey sweat pants he had stashed in your closet. You’d stayed the night at his one time, so-affectionately wearing them in the morning to make him a cup of morning coffee, and decided just to wear them home. “Keep them,” he had said to you that day, “just in case.”

When he climbs in between your white sheets, he seems to instantly relax. He generally did after work, from what you saw - and even though he often had a hard time letting the day go, it seemed like whenever he was with you, he could let it go a little easier. You grabbed a pair of pyjamas for yourself and slid them on, before cracking the window slightly and letting the cool breeze in. The chain around his neck glistened in the moonlight, as he let his eyes flutter closed, just for a minute. When you let your hand brush over his arm, tracing the faded inky lines of his tattoos, he opened one eye slightly, eliciting a small laugh from the side of his mouth. “Feels nice,” he offered, soft against the sounds of the nighttime. “Would you be offended if we didn’t fuck tonight?” His eyes are still closed, and even though it seems a bit ridiculous to ask, you can tell it was hard for him to get the words out. It didn’t really mean that, it meant, can we just be here, together, and enjoy each other for a night? Do you want me here if not for that? 

“Of course not, Carmen,” you let your head hit the pillow, kissing his shoulder and letting your hand grasp his bicep. “You never call me Carmen,” he comments, voice soft, before he looks over at you. “I kinda like it. Only you, though.” You let the curls of his hair tangle around your fingers as he started to drift off, you following not long after. And it’s actually fine this time.

[tinytalkingtina]

Born to Run

Part 1 of Running with the Devil, a Steddie role reversal series

4k words | Rating: E

Tags/CW: Role reversal no upside down AU with some canon divergence, Jock/Track Star!Eddie, Metalhead/drug dealer!Steve, appalachian Eddie, confident bisexual Steve, Eddie has a sexuality crisis but is in denial, Eddie's sleeping mind decides to take matters into its own hands, wet dream (contains spanking and public humiliation), running of both the literal and metaphorical kind, child abuse referenced indirectly (physical beatings that happened in the past)

Read now on Ao3, and be sure to read @little-annie's Part 2 from Steve's POV, "Metal Health will Drive you Mad"

The sex dream within this fic is brought to you by the Week 4 prompt "slap" of the @steddiesmuttyseptember event

Eddie was always a runner. If you asked Wayne, he apparently skipped straight from crawling to toddling around as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. When he got older, it was a release valve, for everything and anything shitty in his life.

He didn’t have to think about his mom pulling a disappearing act, or his dad getting himself arrested (again). The world would narrow until the only sounds he could hear were the rushing in his ears and the smack of his sneakers on pavement.

Running had brought him to where he was now, as he clawed his way up the proverbial high school ranks. Anyone at this party would look at him and only see the triumphant senior captain of the track team, fresh off a successful meet. Every keg stand, every heroic retelling of a close race, every sloppy makeout session with a cheerleader, kept the attention on the Eddie of the present. 

No one needed to remember the wide-eyed weirdo with patched baggy clothes, nearly ten when his classmates would only turn nine that year.

All around him, the crowd ebbed and flowed between the alcohol and the bonfire, the flickering flames and shadows making it hard to tell who was who. Someone stumbled into Eddie, breaking him out of his brooding.

“Whoops, sorry Eddie! Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later.” Before he could say anything, the giggling cheerleader pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. (He knew he went on a date with her about a month ago, but her name eluded him. Tina, maybe, or Vicki?)

He forced a grin back. “Of course you didn’t mean it sugar. Gonna hold you to that ‘kay?”

The girl possibly named Tina swooned at the tiny bit of accent he'd carefully slipped in. Just a touch could be charming to the fine folks of the Midwest, even if what he ended up using was way less Appalachian hick and more refined Southern gentleman than his momma's family had ever spoken in their lives.

As soon as her back was turned, he let the smile slide off. His post-meet high wore off too quickly tonight, and it left him well, twitchy.

An arm slung itself over his shoulder. "Ed my man, this party is wild! Your best work yet dude." Tommy grinned at him, already drunk. Neither of them commented on how close Tommy was pressing himself into Eddie. Or how Eddie wasn't quite moving away. But then again, the two of them had perfected the art of leaving things unsaid after what happened sophomore year, how close they had come to—no.

"Heh, yeah. Hey, where's Carol? She's gonna be pissed you abandoned her."

"Please, Carol's fine. She's busy talking with Lisa Carmichael. Speaking of which, she's really into you. Come on, get your dick wet, you deserve it after that 800 meter. We're fucking going to states!" His last sentence was said much louder, and a chorus of cheers and whoops predictably echoed back from celebratory partygoers. The twitchiness grew.

"I dunno man, not really feeling it tonight." Eddie tried to subtly back up a little bit, but Tommy just swayed forward into his space again.

“Trust me, you won’t be feeling like that when you're balls deep in a nice tight—"

"Tommy will you just fucking stop? What's with your obsession with my dick huh?"

A look of fear and hurt flashed across Tommy's face for a second, before it was replaced with a scowl. Fuck that was the wrong thing to say and danced way too close to the thoughts about—nope, they were not gonna talk about that.

Eddie carefully pat Tommy on the shoulder instead of thinking. "Shit sorry, it's fine, you're just looking out for me, right? I appreciate it, just not uh, really in the partying mood for some reason." 

Tommy managed to recover his grin. "Oh, duh, why didn't you say so? That fucking freak Harrington finally showed up about thirty minutes ago. Sure he's got something that'll make you unwind a bit. Here, have one on me.”

Eddie wanted to snap that he didn’t need pity money. He got the kegs supplied just fine on his own, hadn’t he? But Tommy was still holding himself tensely several steps away. Tommy, who in sixth grade biked over every other day even after his parents had told him to stay away from the trailer park. Who “accidentally” always had a second pudding cup tucked in with his lunch for sharing. Whose summertime freckles were just starting to fade but Eddie knew still trailed down all the way to his—. 

Besides, maybe weed would take the edge off whatever ugly thing kept rearing its insistent head inside him tonight. Help him forget about the looming pressures of the future and the things he wasn’t going to think about, help him feel normal again.

“Thanks Tommy, I’ll try and relax.” Eddie grabbed the money and set off down the path towards Skull Rock, where Harrington always held court. The chill wind rustling through the trees was a welcome respite to his overheated skin.

The walk over to the next clearing was only a few minutes, but by the time Eddie came upon it, the thrum of bass and general teenage debauchery had faded into a low murmur.

Instead, Skull Rock reverberated with the sound of tapping and gentle humming. Eddie’s heart picked up a little.

Steve Harrington made him nervous. It wasn’t necessarily how loud the guy was. Eddie could understand the need to fill a room up. He could vaguely remember a quieter pre-pubescent Harrington before his dramatic transformation, dressed in tiny polos and khakis and halfheartedly kicking around a soccer ball. Now, his entire wardrobe consisted solely of black and red accented with flashy gold rings. The thick combat boots he wore constantly made him tower over everyone else, and the ever-growing collection of tattoos scattered on his body thoroughly scandalized each and every teacher. What they all meant was a perennial topic of discussion amongst the student body.

A voice echoed down from one of the boulders: “Oh hey, look who showed up, it’s Eddie Munson himself! Heard from your sidekick Hagan you’re the reason Hawkins is going to States.”

Steve was stretched out, lounging on the top of the rock, a pair of drumsticks held loosely in one hand.

“Yup, we are. First time in five years actually.” The state championships. There would be college recruiters there, and with them the promise of scholarships that’d get him out of this town. Somewhere far away from the looming threat of the plant bending his back prematurely like it had Wayne’s. Somewhere no one had heard the name of Al Munson.

“Well then.” Steve practically purred as he smoothly jumped down to the ground. He gave his drumsticks a twirl before stashing them in his pocket. “You sure got ‘em, didn’t you Tiger.”

Yeah, there it was. Seemed like sometimes, Harrington could see right through him, like he knew about how his thoughts occasionally strayed to—nope.

Eddie crossed his arms and tried to keep his face neutral. “Uh-huh.”

“Don’t you know it’s polite to thank someone when they compliment you?” Steve’s eyes sparkled with amusement. The fucker was toying with him. Worse, he was enjoying it.

Summoning every ounce of cockiness he possessed, Eddie stood up straight. Sure, this close Harrington had several inches on him, but it didn’t matter. Only one of them could throw the party of the year, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the unpopular weirdo in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be the one thanking me? I let you sell your shit at my party.”

“Got a mouth on you, don’t you.” Steve smirked. “Tell me Munson, what’s stopping me from taking my goodies to, say, the basketball team’s next rager and skipping out on your little get together entirely? Don’t have to dirty my shoes at their parties. They choose to host at a house.”

Eddie gritted his teeth. “Hey fuck you man, not all of us have—”

“Didn’t say I minded,” Steve plowed on, interrupting him. “Maybe I like the fresh air and the…view. Just like to enjoy them peacefully.” He stood there with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

Eddie could feel his face flushing but he held his ground. “Never stopped you from helping yourself to our beer.”

“Free shitty beer, just what I look forward to.” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I gotta say, wasn’t really expecting you to come here. Don’t you usually send someone else to get your fix?”

Eddie shrugged. “Needed a change. And we both know you overcharge Tommy.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” Steve barked out a laugh. “But he deserves the asshole tax. Just weed for you tonight? There’s all kinds of ways to unwind if your usual methods are leaving you…unsatisfied there Munson.”

Vividly, Eddie was reminded of the graffiti scribbled on the walls above the urinals near the gym: Score a touchdown, then score with SH. More often than not, Steve could be found spectating the games, quietly dealing underneath the bleachers. On occasion, one girl or another could be seen emerging from underneath and brushing dirt off her skirt. But there was that other rumor, one that no guy would ever admit to having personal experience with. That if you won, Harrington would give anyone weed for free if they got on their knees for him and—woah there. What was wrong with him tonight?

“Th-think the weed is jus’ fine, ain’t lookin’ for much else.” he stammered out. Shit, why did his accent have to slip now of all times? “I mean, weed is all I need. Those fucking pricks from Greencastle got under my skin.” Assholes thought they were so big, mocking his out of style sneakers. Those shoes hadn't stopped him from shaving half a second off the regional record, but he couldn't help but still feel the barbs from their insults lodged under his skin, festering.

Steve cocked his head as he stared at Eddie with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally he broke into a disarming smile. Eddie couldn’t remember ever seeing Steve sincerely express happiness, at least not from this distance. He would have remembered how prett—how his eyes lit up.

“I’m in a band you know. Pierced Scepter. We play down at this shitty dive bar and yeah, usually it’s a crowd of four drunks and the bartender, but it doesn’t matter. Being on any stage is…fuck it’s awesome. But sometimes it’s a little too much to just pack it all up right after. So I come out here to scream my head off, get it all out. Better off terrorizing the birds than picking fights when my parents are around.” Steve unconsciously rubbed his palm as he laughed humorlessly. “Saves on the screaming matches at home and the. Well.”

“Didn’t realize rich folks got their own hands dirty like that.” Carol’s parents had left the task of punishment to her nanny, preferring to swoop in with carrots after the stick had been administered.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure my dad would say something about how ‘real men are responsible for disciplining their kids so they don’t get soft.’ Though what he considers ‘soft’ changes a lot based on his mood. And whether he’s wearing a belt or suspenders that day.”

“G-d, who knew our dads have something in common then?” Eddie snorted. “Never could keep my old man happy, was always doing something wrong. He took the belt to me so often in third grade I barely could sit down the whole year.” His first time in third grade anyway, the one before he was whisked away to the safe haven of Wayne’s trailer.

“And…I have absolutely no idea why I told you that.” He barely talked about his dad to Tommy and Carol for crying out loud. On visitor’s days he always made up some lie about why he and Wayne were driving close to the state penitentiary.

Steve let out a weird little braying bark of a laugh and shuffled his feet. “Right, you didn’t come here to cry over our daddy issues. Gimme a sec to get your stuff.” Steve reached behind to grab the lunchbox he carried his goods around in. As he did, his jacket slid open enough to show the exposed line of his clavicle above the low-cut collar of his tee. Eddie swallowed hard. Against his will, his eyes dipped lower, noticing a design over the top of his pec in black ink. Oh, a new tattoo.

Eddie squinted trying to make out what it was. “It’s been a while since you gave O’Donnell a reason to lecture us on the ‘decaying morality of the modern day.’ Is that a two headed monkey?”

Delight flickered over Steve’s face. “This? Yeah, it’s new. Supposed to be Demogorgon, the ‘Prince of Demons.’” At Eddie’s blank look he chuckled. “He’s a monster from Dungeons and Dragons, you know, the fantasy game we play in Hellfire Club. It was the final battle of a months long campaign and our characters were trying to escape Demogorgon’s lair. Most of the party was close to death, but at a chokepoint, my character took a last stand and gave the others enough time to escape. Everyone else got out, even if the bastard got me in the end. So, I got this as a tribute to my character's sacrifice.”

Eddie spoke without thinking. “Oh, that’s kind of similar to what Gandalf did: facing off against the Balrog to save the rest of the Fellowship.”

Forget fleeting glimpses of real smiles. The look of surprise Steve gave him was almost comically out of place on his face. “You’ve read Lord of the Rings?”

“While ago, yeah. The Hobbit too.” Back when he first moved in with Wayne, the man had found an absolutely beautiful illustrated set at a rummage sale. Eddie smiled to himself, remembering how excited he’d been to get his first real present ever. “Spent a whole summer running around during the day, then staying up way too late reading all night. My uncle had to confiscate my flashlight eventually.”

A snort from Steve jolted Eddie out of his memories as he realized who he was talking to. “Don’t tell anyone that Harrington, or else,” he ordered as he flushed for the second time that evening, “The rest of your dorky club of nerds better not start bothering me in the hallway just because I’ve read Tolkien. Not going to step in to save them if they forget their place.”

Steve’s expression shuttered as he stood upright. “Right, wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation with the rest of your jock buddies.” Eddie was taken aback by the bitterness in Steve’s voice. “They might explode if you admit to having interests beyond banging chicks, sports magazines, and beer. Your secret’s safe with me. After all, who’s going to believe the Freakshow? Here.” He shoved a baggie in Eddie’s face. “That should be enough for about a week. Now get lost before I double the price.”

Eddie opened his mouth to apologize. But the artificial sneer on Steve’s face made him lose his nerve. He just held out his money as he snatched away the weed. “Thanks, uh, have a good night Harrington. Help yourself to something from the kegs.” He almost made it to the edge of the trees before Steve’s voice called out to him: “Hey, Munson!” 

He froze and turned. Steve had clambered back onto Skull Rock, moonlight and shadows making him look otherworldly and malevolent, towering over the clearing. “Keep that attitude of yours in check next time, or else I might take my services somewhere else. But, if you need more help…unwinding, well. You know where to find me.” That knowing smirk was firmly fixed back in place on his face. 

Eddie couldn’t help it. He finally gave into his impulses and ran.

He didn’t think about those plush lips drawn back into a genuine smile as he quickly navigated back to the party. He didn’t think about those amused eyes seeing right through him as he knocked back a few cups of beer and danced a little with anyone and no one. And he certainly wasn’t thinking about that tattoo surrounded by chest hair as he staggered home to an empty trailer and collapsed into his bed.

“You look so good there, kneeling for me Eddie.” Steve looms over him, those ringed hands on his hips. Eddie realizes he’s naked in the clearing and flushes with embarrassment. When did he take off his clothes?

Any thoughts on how he ended up here are derailed when the wind caresses his body. Oh. Tendrils of air race over his exposed chest and glide over his heavy balls and dripping cock. 

“And look how much you’re enjoying it too.” He’s never been this turned on in his life, and it’s all because of Steve. All for Steve. He’s powerless to prevent a moan from falling out of his mouth. 

“You act so big at school, like you’re the top of the food chain yeah? A real king of the jungle. But you and me, we know better. You’re not a scary tiger at all are you. No, you’re just a cute little kitten.”

Eddie can’t help but whine as he spreads himself wider in invitation.

“Yeah, thought you’d like that.” Steve crooks a finger and gestures for Eddie to follow him. “Come on kitten.” Eddie begins to get up, his legs tingling with pins and needles.

“Mhm, no. I like you better down there. In fact, I think you should crawl.”

He shudders but obeys the sound of that voice, would do anything for it. He stays on all fours as the path unwinds before them, until they come to a door. Eddie moves as fast as he can to follow Steve through, tumbling into the void within. He flails, plummeting until a familiar wax-polished wood rushes up to meet his palms. Eddie doesn’t dare get up from his hands and knees as he lifts his head but-

The gym is filled to the brim. 

Their classmates sit silently, blank looks on their faces as they stare. They’re waiting for something to happen. White hot shame courses through his veins as he desperately tries to cover up.

The voice cuts smoothly through the haze of his embarrassment: “Look at them kitten, they’re all waiting for a show. Let’s give one to them.”

Steve nudges him onto his back. He grabs his wrists and pulls them away from his body, exposing Eddie to the crowd. No! His face is on fire as he tries to fight it, but he can’t seem to break free, his strength sapped away. Steve tightens his hold on his wrists.

“Settle down Eddie, let them see you. You love this.”

He knows Steve is right. He can’t hide how hard his aching cock is, slapping against his belly as he squirms. But he can’t help it, they’ll all know. Faint whispers drift down from the stands as the crowd watches him struggle.

“Please, don’t make me do this,” he begs, but the words get caught in his choked up throat.

“I think you’ve forgotten your place. Maybe you need a reminder that you can’t hide, not from me.”

Steve hauls him up and easily slings him over a shoulder. Eddie lays there limply, frozen and whimpering. He’s unceremoniously dumped on top of a teacher’s desk right at the center line.  Hands come up to squeeze at his nipples, hard. Just the way he does when he’s alone. His cock twitches and drools even more from the groping. 

Eddie blinks, and suddenly the bleachers are that much closer.

“Be happy kitten, all the attention is on you! Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” Oh G-d. Every eye is fixed on him, the buzzing of interest growing louder.

“No, I don’t want this, I don’t want you!” He shouts as loud as he can but the words come out muted and garbled.

Steve barks out a cruel laugh. “God, you’re pathetic. But then you’ve always been so good at lying to yourself haven’t you? You were the one who kissed Tommy, not the other way around. But when he went in for more, you pushed him off and ran away.”

Through the blur of tears, he can just make out Tommy’s face in the crowd, wearing the same accusatory and hurt look he had two years ago.

Steve leans down to nibble at his ear. “And,” he whispers, his voice silky smooth. “Let’s not forget how in the back of your head you imagine me shoving you against a locker and making you take it. Or sometimes, I threaten you with my knife a little out in the woods, yeah?”

Without warning, Eddie is manhandled over Steve’s lap. “Good news, guess today’s your lucky day kitten. I’m going to make you take it until you admit to everyone what you really want.”

SMACK!

The first slap to his ass sounds loudly, echoing around the gym. Eddie nearly swallows his tongue trying to keep quiet. The spectators in the stands let out a gasp for him.

But Steve doesn’t stop there. He keeps going, until Eddie feels like his ass is on fire.

He finds himself pleading for Steve to have mercy, slipping back into the accent he tries so hard to keep a lid on normally.

“Ha, there he is, finally. You can dress yourself up in a varsity jacket all you want, but we all know what you really are. Just a piece of trailer trash. You can’t run from this you dumb hick. Tell me what I want to hear.”

Eddie shakes his head. He can’t. “Fine, then take your punishment.”

Smack after smack rains down on his ass. The pain builds and builds, and the crowd gets louder and louder. But underneath the humiliation, he remains hard and grows even more desperate. Every slap sends him thrusting, his cock trapped between Steve’s muscular thighs. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ha! And you jocks call me the freak. You’re the one humping my leg and yowling like you’re in heat. Pain turn you on kitten?”

That’s all it takes to push him over the edge. 

He cums to the sound of cheers.

Eddie woke with a jolt and a gasp, his whole body pulsing in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced. 

Trembling, he curled up into a ball and let the tears fall. This was nothing, just a passing thought his brain had gotten attached to. All he had to do was survive the year, and then he could be finally free of Hawkins, and the living ghosts that haunted him.

If only that had been the last time he dreamed of Steve Harrington.

Two weeks later, Eddie woke with a fuzzy head and even fuzzier memories of the night before, vaguely remembering a ringed hand stroking his hair. On his nightstand was a glass of water, some Tylenol, and a note from SH telling him to take it easy. 

After that his dreams changed. Sometimes he wasn’t humiliated at all, and those tattooed arms kept him safe and cared for. It felt worse almost, to have his subconscious offer up such happiness, only to snatch it away when he woke to an empty bed. He didn’t dare spend the night in the arms of a girl at her house, worried he’d reveal himself for the freak he was.

A full month of torment and countless hours of lost slumber later, Eddie finally had had enough. He grabbed his keys and tore off in the direction of Steve's house, praying that Carol wouldn't see his van in her neighbor's driveway at this time of night.

As he rang the doorbell, he didn’t know what to expect. But it certainly wasn’t the sight of a sleep rumpled Steve answering the door in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Somehow, seeing his bare hands felt more intimate than the lack of shirt did.

“Munson? Gave me a heart attack, thought my parents were back a day early. What are you—”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupted, wide-eyed and feeling slightly crazed. “Can we talk?”

Ao3 link

It's finally here! This began life as a brain worm that Annie and I have turned into a whole fully expanded universe. We can't wait to write more with these two :D

Tagging a few folks who showed interest in the original Wiggly Wednesday post (but please feel free to ignore): @eyesofshinigami @augustjustice @griefabyss69 @hairstevington

@dreamy-jeans137 @eriquin @hbyrde36 @hotluncheddie

Thank you to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the runner divider!

[kdogreads]

maybe grumpy richie x sunshine reader whos also like syds best friend and she comes in and is just extremely nice to him and he flirts w her until syd comes out and yells at him 😇😇

LOVE this! Thank you so much sweet nonnie 😍😍

This is giving suit-Richie, so not that grumpy ☹️🫶

“Hiiiii!” Syd squeals as she’s pops out of the kitchen in her pretty new chef’s coat, “I’m so glad you made it!”

She pulled you into a tight hug and you reciprocated the sheer joy at seeing your closest friend in her element.

“I’m so happy to be here, Syd. This place is incredible,” You shot her a proud gaze and she just waved you down. Typical Sydney to act like it’s not a big deal.

“Thank you—yeah, thanks. It’s been a lot, but let me take you through the kitchen and show you—“

She paused when Richie cleared his throat impatiently, obviously wanting an introduction.

“Ah, right, sorry,” Syd chuckled, “This is Richie — Front of house manager and Carmy’s cousin.”

He extended a hand to you and you shook it gracefully, noting how small your own hand felt in his big one.

“Good to finally meet you, sweetheart. Syd here talks about you all the time,” Richie smiled sweetly at you, and a shockwave shot through your veins.

“Same to you, Richie. I’ve heard a lot,” You spoke confidently as he slowly released your hand.

His eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise, “All good things, I hope.” He ended his thought with a wink and you swear you felt your heart stop for a beat. Those crystal blue eyes staring into yours; you couldn’t stop the thoughts running through your head.

God, he has a pretty smile. And he smells so good. And—

“Well we’ve been friends for like ever and I haven’t given you a tour yet, so,” Sydney trails off, trying to ignore whatever this thing is happening between you and Richie right now.

You tried your best to wipe the giddy grin from your face as you nodded to Sydney, ready to celebrate this incredible restaurant with her.

Syd took you back through the kitchen where you were happy to meet all of the people she’d spoken so highly of — Carmy, Tina, Marcus, even Fak. They were all just as skilled and friendly as she’d told you.

The two of you stayed chatting a while until she took you back out to the table she’d reserved just for you. Dinner service was about to begin and the sharply-dressed servers began seating other excited guests.

You spotted Richie on the other side of the dining room. He looked so handsome with his suit jacket on and buttoned, a new addition to the look you’d met him in earlier. The thoughts running through your mind were downright dangerous.

Your eyes drifted over the menu as you tried to expel Richie from your brain. You tried so hard to focus on the richly flavored dishes on the page that you didn’t notice when someone walked up to your table.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” You jumped at the sweet, sultry voice, “I’ll be personally taking care of you tonight.”

The lights were just dim enough to hide Richie’s wink and your blushing cheeks.

“Uh, yeah—yes! Great, Richie, thank you,” Trying and failing to hide your giddiness, you watched as he set an icy purple-ish drink down in front of you.

“Vodka, sugar-free cranberry juice and a splash of lime.”

You couldn’t hide the shocked look in your face for the life of you, “Wow. You really do your homework, huh?”

Richie leaned in close, close enough you could feel his minty breath on your cheek when he spoke.

“I’m all about the service, baby.”

A shiver ran down your spine as he straightened up, a smug, knowing smirk on his face. You could tell he was about to say something else when the door to the kitchen swung open just a few feet away.

“Richie!” Syd whisper-yelled, “Flirt with my friend later please, I need your help in here.”

She darted back into the kitchen before either of you could respond. Richie’s smug smirk melted into a warm smile and your cheeks started to feel hot yet again.

“I’ll be seeing you soon?” Richie questioned with an eyebrow raised.

“I hope so,” You folded your hands and rested your head in them, batting your lashes up at a swooning Richie.

He simply nodded slightly, smile still plastered on his lips, before turning to head for the kitchen.

You really, really did hope you’d be seeing him later.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

hii! i just finished the first season of the bear and was wondering if you were up to write a carmy x reader story, maybe the reader gets hurt in the kitchen or something like that.

(idk if anything major happens in s2, so id appreciate it if you could do it without spoilers for the second season)

thank you! 💗

A/n- hi!! I love this sm and I’m in need of fluff rn lol.

The bear masterlist

Warnings- Mentions of cuts, blood.

Cuts

You were working quick, everyone was focused and they all worked as fast as possible.

Carmen was stressed, handling everything and everyone at once was beginning to take a toll, and you noticed it.

You sliced up some tomatoes, the point of your knife working, the blade of it sliced through the tomatoes with precision.

And you worked perfectly until someone was carrying a box, not thinking to say any type of signal. They bumped into you, mumbling a sorry as the tip of your knife sliced slightly into your skin.

It was deep. It hurt like hell. You groaned out in pain and held it with your other hand. You fumbled around looking and asking for a napkin, a paper towel, anything to stop the bleeding.

Tina quickly handed you a towel, and led you to a sink, helping you rinse off the blood as you hissed.

“You alright? That’s a nasty cut.” She said.

“Yeah- yeah I’m fine.” You said with a small smile, as she handed you a bandaid she had hidden.

“I always have them.” She winked, and you thanked her as she left.

“There you are.“ Carmen said, coming up to you.

He looked at the towel next to you and back to you, then he noticed the bandaid.

“What happened?” He asked, totally forgetting what he was gonna tell you.

“I just cut myself on accident. It’s okay.” You shrugged.

He raised his eyebrows, knowing that the last time someone say that he had to take them to the hospital.

“Let me see.”

“Carmy-“

He gave you a look, making you sigh and lift the bandage up enough for him to see the dried blood and the deep cut.

“Fuck. How’d that happen?”

“Someone just knocked into me. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You shrugged.

“I’ll beat their ass.” He mumbled.

“Carmy. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? That is….”

“I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go back to work.”

“Be careful next time, okay? Can’t have you gettin’ hurt, cause I don’t really wanna take you to the ER.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, kissing his cheek.

[an0nfr0mth3d3n]

As a sapphic myself, how could I not write a bit about the cutest lesbian couple (almost) on the qsmp?

The day Bagi got picked for Team Soulfire was one of the best days of her life, that she remembered at least. That Eye guy must really be homophobic because Bagi was going crazy with not being able to see the adorable girl that had so captured her heart.

Bagi picked the last of her supplies into her backpack, shouldering it quickly. There was no telling when her former teammates who had got chosen for Red could show up, and she wasn’t keen on finding out if the Green Gay spirit would grant her immunity from her former team.

Plus the sooner she saw Tina the sooner she could find happiness in this cruel horrible world of Purgatory.

Bagi smiled as the sun beat down on her face, soaking up the sounds and smells of the jungle one last time. The spicy hint of cacao, the distant squawk of a parrot, the gentle mist kissing her face, the earthy loam beneath her feet, and the far off crashing of waves against a sandy shore.

With spirit determined, she marched forwards towards the sounds of the waves.

Admittedly, she did in fact tense up a little bit when she saw the terror of the island Badboyhalo, who was doing figure eights in a motorboat (on the beach), but considering she already knew he was coming down to pick her up she wasn’t too surprised.

“BAGIIIII” Bad yelled when he saw her coming from the dense woods.

“BADDDDD!!” Bagi couldn’t help smiling at the sight of her dear friend, and she jogged forward to greet him.

Bad’s eyes narrowing in a manner that Bagi had come to associate with mischief, and as she approached, she noticed him type something out on his communicator.

Bagi stopped in front of him, leaning her hand on her hip. “Ok, whaaat are you typi- OOF”

Her sentence was cut short with a loud impact to her back, causing the Brazilian to fall onto the sand. The confusion only lasted a few seconds because with the impact came a high pitched happy squealing and even though it had been a week, Bagi would know that sound anywhere. “TINAAAAAAAAAAA”

The weight on her back shifted, and Bagi turned over in the sand, not minding the beach sand that was getting into her hair. In front of her, was her beloved-

Woah wait were those abs????

Bagi gawked at the crop top exposing Tina’s midriff. Where once was soft squishy belly, not that Bagi was specifically ever checking Tina out haha never…, were now sharply defined and well tanned muscles.

Bagi could hardly breathe as she tore her eyes away, face bursting into heat. It really didn’t help that as she did so she caught sight of the lean muscle now attached to Tina’s arms, and the pretty tan that the other girl had gotten.

Speaking of the other girl-

“Oh my god. What was I THINKING. Why did I DO that? I literally do not even know why I did that Bagi I am SO sorry. Ohhh god this is so embarrasssiiinngggg. Oh my god let me help you up.”

As Tina talked anxiously, Bagi could feel her senses returning, and briefly registered the shi- the muffin-eating grin on Bad’s face.

“Wow Tina I can’t believe you ATTACKED poor Bagi! I’m so sorry, I guess she doesn’t want you on our team!” Bad said far too cheerfully.

“Shut up you FREAK!” Tina yelled at the…vampalien?

“Freak??” Bad scoffed pompously, “I take offense to that! Bagi get your dog under control!”

“YOU’RE THE D-“

BONK

“OW!”

“DON’T MESS WITH TINA!”

Bad grumbled, rubbing his head, expression that of a kicked puppy. “Such violence! I cannot believe you would hit me, and with a cooking pot of all things!”

Bagi hefted the weight of the pot in her hands “Yeah, well I don’t have my frying pan, so this will do!”

“Wait, you have a cooking pot? Oh my god we should totally make a dinner for each other tonight!” Tina said, grasping Bagi’s arm with stars in her eyes.

Bagi stared. Tina’s face, while slightly cut in bruised from the trials of literally existing in purgatory, was gorgeously sun kissed, a faint tan spread evenly across her complexion that spoke tales of working in the sun.

“Um. Errrr. Yeah. Do you have any ingredients?” Bagi managed to get out.

Tina smirked proudly. “Ingredients? Girl, I’m like, the co-leader of the entire farm! I could get you anything! Anything for you Bagi!”

Bagi grinned, heart fluttering. “Then let’s have a nice dinner tonight. Might as well enjoy something in this hellish place!”

“Could I co-“

“No.”

[shubluvr]

i’ll just write out everything i know/remember about tina and foolish. get ready this is an essay. some of it you may know already. im very serious about them

there’s been small things for years but the consensus was generally that they were just friends up until earlier this year. when tina did a wine stream with ellum, foolish was in and out of the viewer list and chat until like 4:00 am, as if he was restless. he had a sponsor the next day. it was super unusual behavior for him

like a week later he shows up in LA for literally no reason. there’s a beef wellington cooking stream where they dance and are cute but its not super relevant. he and tina do their own wine stream, and they have insane tension for most of the latter half of the stream. foolish’s blanket/bed is visible behind him at his LA setup, and it remained unchanged between his stream the day of the wine stream and the day after. he didn’t sleep in his bed

he leaves eventually but comes back for tinas birthday. he then goes with tina to new york for a beats sponsor, she doesnt take anyone else and he has no reason to go there other than to support her.

the next time he’s in LA, all of the other roomies have moved out. its just him and tina in their house. he’s essentially there just to keep her company, he comes like 2 weeks before she moves. one stream, tina comes back from emma langevin’s birthday party. foolish rushes to end stream as soon as he finishes a valo game. the next day when he goes live his bed is again exactly the same. when tina goes live, she noticed her pants are on the ground behind her, briefly looks panicked, and says she took them off as soon as she got home to get comfortable. this is the most damning evidence we have imo

he then helps her move, and his LA setup goes into a room in tina’s new apartment. all of his clothes and shit are at her place. currently he’s back in LA and is staying with her. hes buying a bunch of stuff for his setup and essentially moving in. she makes coffee for him and they watch tv every night. its very surreal to watch

in all this time of people speculating and them acting like a couple, they have never said theyre just friends or not dating. they ignore anyone who asks. theyve even both disagreed with people calling them siblings.

im sorry this took me so long to answer anon but this is amazing i hope u have a wonderful life thank u

[makeyoumine69]

Plssss

Savage

◥ PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

◥ SUMMARY: Patrick is so obsessed with an idea to breed you, and he's ready to knock you up even in his mother's house.

◥ CW: 18+/ NSFW │69 & cowgirl (sex positions), heavy daddy kink, Patrick being fluffy but degrading reader at the same time, a lot of creampie.

◥ WORDCOUNT: 3.1k

◥ A/N: I'm sorry again for a lot of words. Thank you so much for this request, I hope you like it! 🥰

◥ LINKS: │Bingo Writing Challange Masterlist│ │Main Masterlist│

What could be better than a ‘family’ dinner in Patrick’s mum’s fancy house–you thought ironically, fidgeting in your place. Almost straight away, you felt Bateman’s warm palm around your shoulders as he hugged you tightly, petting you from time to time like he was trying to soothe you and that was really unusual for him.

“So, how was your trip to Miami?” Mrs. Bateman asked, finishing her meal with a glass of wine.

“Everything went fine,” Patrick murmured, pulling you closer and leaving a small peck on your cheek. “(Y/N) received a lot of unforgettable memories and that is the most important thing for me.”

“Yeah, that was really nice.” You said sheepishly as you smiled at him, laying your head on his broad shoulder.

Amused by you two, Mrs. Bateman called out for a maid to ask what had been planned for a desert. Speaking about Patrick–his most desirable desert was sitting right beside him, melting in his sweet embrace.

With a quiet gasp, Patrick turned to look at you, watching you fighting with a yawn. Hugging you closer, he stroked your cheekbone before whispering: “Are you tired, Peach? It's been a long day.” “No no, I’m okay,” you nuzzled against his large palm, feeling yourself heavenly. “Just… All dishes were so delicious and that made me a little drowsy.”

“Someone loves to eat, don't they?”

Frowning a bit, you pushed him aside with a light laughter “Well, it’s better than to always be grumpy cause you’re on the latest fad diet.” You punctuated the last words with a tease smirk and took a sip of the fresh orange juice.

As soon as Patrick was about to say something in reply, his mother clapped her hands with excitement, returning her attention to you again: “Patrick, dear. Maybe you will stay tonight? Tina’s cooking a cheesecake. She's so good at confectionery, you both need to try it!”

“You know I don’t eat any sweets…” imperceptibly, Patrick looked under the table and then, his tempting gaze fell on the black stockings you were wearing. “But maybe we will stay...” His suddenly low voice made your heart skip a beat.

“Ohh, I will be so happy if you stay!” You gave him a slightly confused glare, but you didn’t dare to speak, understanding that he definitely had something on his mind. Puzzled, you put a glass on the table to avoid any chance to break it when you heard Mrs. Bateman’s voice:

“I wanted to ask before, but I wasn't sure,” she grinned, gazing upon you one by one. “Are you planning to have kids? I have looked forward to being a grandmother for years now since Sean turned out to be a total jackass.”

“We’re working on it.” Patrick sneered in a stern voice, planting his palm on your hip.

His unexpected words almost made you choke on the air. Coughing, you grabbed his hand which was slowly sliding down between your legs, scorching your skin wherever he touched it. 

“Good to know. By the way, have you already shown (Y/N) my house?”

“I just thought about it,” he crooned, smirking to himself as he felt your body shivering from his barely sensible touches. “C’mon, Peach. Let me quickly show it to you.”

After saying that, Patrick stood up and gave you a hand, his eyes were darting all around your pretty frame, leaving you completely embarrassed.

“I expect you to return when the cheesecake is done. You don’t want to offend an old woman, don’t you?”

“We will come back later, for sure,” you nodded to Patrick’s mum, placing your palm into his big one and letting him help you stand up. “Thank you so much for the dinner. Everything was so perfect!”

Flattered, she looked at Patrick, smiling as if she knew something and saying: “You’re always welcome, sweetheart.” 

And then, you walked away, leaving a luxury living room behind.

“How many rooms does this house have, exactly?” You asked Patrick, turning around each time you saw a door. 

“A lot, trust me.” 

All the way down here, Patrick was holding your waist, petting your back from time to time. Usually whenever he acted sweet, you knew–he was up to something; something you might not even like but that was the last thing Bateman worried about. 

Humming to himself, he halted near a dark wooden door, opening it slowly with a cocky smile. “Well, here we are.”

Bateman let you get inside first and then, a beautifully decorated room opened up before your eyes. Every little detail here was radiating an expensive, luxurious vibe: starting with the carpet and ending with the elegant curtains. Admired by the surrounding atmosphere, you turned around to see Patrick, standing near the entrance, watching you with pure delight.

“Is it your room?” 

“Mmm, technically it was mine… a long time ago, but now it’s just a guest room,” he said in a soft voice, hiding his hands in his pockets. “You like it?” “Yes. It’s dazzling and… it reminds me of your apartment.” With a cute grin on your face, you walked further into the room, exploring all stuff you could see.

Your curiosity made him chuckle from amusement, especially when you began to ask so many questions about each thing you found.

“Wow… what a nice picture,” you took a photo, where two obviously rich boys were smiling at a camera. “It’s your brother I guess?” “Yeah, it’s Sean.”

“As I remember, you don’t really like him…”

“True. So, I doubt you would ever meet him.” He stated, strolling around the room behind your back.

You let out a quiet gasp, putting the photo in its place when you suddenly noticed an enormous collection of different musical records and cassettes. Biting your lip, you had to lean down to have a proper look at them and you didn’t notice the hem of your skirt pulling up, revealing the pretty curves of your butt. Without saying a word, Partick exhaled loudly through his nostrils as if he had been waiting for that specific moment. 

“I can see something caught your attention…” He murmured, approaching you from behind.

“Just wanted to have a lo–,” you gasped abruptly, founding yourself trapped in his powerful arms, with his hard groin pressed against your ass. “P-Patrick…”

“What is it, Peach?” He whispered into your ear, teasing the delicate skin of your neck. 

“You planned all of this, r-right? A-aww…” You moaned from the way he was squeezing your boobs, hugging you from behind.

“I just thought we shouldn’t waste any time,” pulling you closer, he licked your neck, biting it a bit after and forcing you to tremble in his grip. “Sugar… I can’t wait to see you pregnant.”

 “Patrick… W-we, we are at your mum’s house…”  

“You think I care?” Groaning softly, he hold you in his arms, lifting you up with ease as he moved towards a big bed in the room's corner. 

Gently, he set you on the edge, petting the bare skin of your thighs which was not hidden by your black stockings. Patrick was exploring your body with no rush like it was your first intimate moment and he wanted to enjoy every second. 

“When I saw these black stockings on you–I already knew how this day would end.” He purred, while his sneaky fingers finally reached your wet panties. 

“D-daddy…” You flinched from the burning heat his body was radiating. 

“Mmm, Peach,” he snuggled into your shivering frame, forcing you to lean on your back. “I won’t even comment on this. You’re always so wet for daddy, such a slutty little girl. Did you think about me fucking you during the dinner?”

Fidgeting in your place from embarrassment, you made a deep breath before replying: “I… Yes, I did...”

You heard him chucking in amusement when he unexpectedly pulled away from you, standing up and towering over you like a mountain. 

“What an unbelievable confession.” Patrick mused, grasping your chin.

“Why don’t you just wait until we come home?” You rejoined, looking into his brown eyes. “I don’t feel comfortable… Since everyone here can hear us.”

“Whether you want to be loud or quiet–it’s entirely up to you,” he fondled your lower lip, slipping his thumb into your mouth. “The only thing you can’t affect–I want to fuck you right here and right now. Be a good girl–take off your panties and spread your legs for me.”

His raspy voice echoed in your ears like a thunderclap, it sent a million goosebumps down your spine, hypnotizing you like a spell.

Thrilled, you were watching each other undressing, losing your minds by the second. With shaking hands, you tried to focus on your clothes that have left but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Patrick’s naked torso; he was literally sculpted like a Greek God–you thought like that whenever you saw the perfect relief of his muscles. 

When you finally did what he said, you looked at him from under your lashes, seeing nothing but a ravenous desire in his savage gaze. Breathing heavily, Patrick swallowed hard with how you opened up for him, revealing your blushing pussy; he didn’t even care about undoing his pants as his primal instincts overtook him completely. 

Watching your reaction, he cupped your needy cunt and pressed a thumb to your little nub, causing a muffled wail to erupt from your half-open mouth.

“D-daddy… A-ahhh..” That was all you managed to pronounce as you threw your head back.

“(Y/N), baby… Tell me, what you want the most,” he was teasing your clit with light strokes. “My fingers or…”

“Mouth!” you desperately blurted out, “I w-want your mouth…Please, daddy…”

“Oh, is it so?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nodded, timidly closing your eyes as your felt his skilful digits moving up and down your folds.

“Your dirty talk has improved markedly,” he admitted, pinching your tight nipple. “It’s not perfect yet, but it’s really getting better.”

Gasping from the lack of air, you remembered you forgot to put off your stockings, but as soon as you touched them you heard his hoarse voice:

“Leave them like that, sugar,” carefully, he took your hand away, replacing it with his own to worship your hips here and there. “You have such pretty legs, but… by this time they should have been already rested on my shoulders or around my back.” After saying that, Patrick laid across the bed behind you, leaving you completely confused.

“Patrick?”

“C’mere, Peach,” he murmured as he beckoned you. “I’ve another idea how I can use my mouth.”

Hesitating a bit, you climbed onto the sheets beside him as you were trying to understand what was on his mind. “You want me to get on top of you?”

“I want you get on top of my face,” he responded, smirking with how your bit your lower lip. “Previous times, I didn’t have to persuade you…”

And he was so goddamn right-you thought before mounting him, but almost immediately, you had to change your position as he spanked your ass, forcing you to turn around, so you could reach his extremely hard cock. Leisurely, you unzipped his pants, petting his dick through his fancy boxers. Passionately, Patrick groaned in response, his solid body tensed under your touch. And then, when you sensed a light pressure on your lower back–you knew exactly what he wanted. With one simple motion, you got rid of the last obstacle to his hot flesh, which was longing for your attention.

“Baby… m-mhm,” he let out a muffled moan as you were giving him a hand job he needed. “Do ya want me to start first?”

Turning around to face him, you murmured: “Yes, daddy… Please, taste me…” Your innocent gaze was like a red button for him, which was turning on a full insane mode. 

As soon as his wet tongue met your oversensitive clit, you had to cling to his ankles, feeling a tingling sensation in your lower belly. Smugly, Patrick smirked to himself, revelling in all your high-pitched wails as his hands were tightly wrapped around your hips, pulling your pussy closer to his greedy mouth.

“A-aww, P-Patrick…” You whimpered before you gave his stony cock one long lick, starting with his balls and ending with the tip.

Feeling his lips tensed around your little tip, you made a deep breath and let him push into your mouth, taking him as deep as you could. Bobbing your head up and down, you were about to choke on his beefy shaft with how his tongue was toying your soaked pussy, but you didn’t stop–even if you couldn’t win in this “fight” you wouldn’t give up that easily.

“Such a cock-addicted slut, f-fuck…” he groaned against your cunt, your wetness running down his chin. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart�� I’m gonna reward you with my seed, gonna pump your tight hole so-fucking-full.”

Almost breathlessly, you moaned around his dick, drooling so badly and massaging his heavy sac as you were painfully close to your high; his hot tongue was relentlessly fucking your dripping cunt, while his brawny arms were holding you still, not allowing you to move even an inch. 

“D-daddy, mm-hmm, I’m s-so close…A-aah...” you cried out, almost sprawling against his legs, feeling a coil in your lower belly snapped with a vivid sensation. “A-aww, o-ohhh my Godddd… ” 

Shaking erratically, you let him send you almost to the moon from the way his experienced mouth was eating you out, drinking in every drop of your sweet juices. With a slurping sound, Patrick couldn't get enough of your taste, licking and sucking your tender flesh, squashing your ass to keep you close as he was tongue fucking you through your orgasm.

Only after your body stopped trembling, he allowed you to break away from his hot mouth, petting your hips and leaving small pecks on them.

“You lasted even longer than usually, Peach,” he mocked, giving your buttocks a few slaps. “Maybe you even are bold enough to ride daddy’s cock?”

Gasping for air, you turned around to face him, locking your hazy eyes with his dark ones and it seemed like he could easily rail you just only with his fucking gaze. Smirking as he watched you getting yourself on top of him, he spread his knees to make you more comfortable and then; you had to bite your lips almost till the blood from the delightful sensation of being so full.

“D-daddy… I want you to fill me and make my belly swell with your child.” You whimpered as you started to bounce on his thick cock.

Patrick growled in a low voice, resting his hands on your hips and forcing to you move faster. “You want daddy to make you a mommy?”

“Y-yes! P-please… A-aww… You’re so big, so… F-fucking big…”

“A-aaah…. I thought you didn’t know any crude words,” he grunted, cupping your breasts which were jumping up and down whenever you moved. “F-fuck… You should see yourself, such a pathetic little whore… Begging daddy to breed her...”

Tilting your head back, you could feel a fucking ocean of mixed liquids where your bodies where connected, it was even flowing down his pubis and making it so wet. Although, it was so hard for you to ride him because of his huge size; you were trying your best to take him as good as you could cause you knew–you would be definitely praised for it later.

When you felt his chest rising and falling so rapidly beneath your hands, you leaned down to his face, latching your lips on his soft ones and moaning through the kiss as he suddenly began to pound into you harder; his solid hips were meeting yours with nasty sloppy sounds.

“B-baby… Baby girl,” panting, he palmed your cheek, understanding that you were getting tired. “Let daddy take care of you…”

Without waiting for your answer, Patrick pulled you closer to press you against his firm torso, gripping you under the elbow for a better control and ramming into you in a merciless pace.

“A–aww, P-Patrick…” You sobbed into his ear, feeling nothing but a total delight from the intense friction your bodies were making. 

“I… I'm gonna put my seed where it belongs…” with a loud groan, he sank his teeth into the delicate flesh of your neck, causing a pitiful whine to escape your swollen lips. “C’mon, Peach… Cum for me… Cum for your daddy!”

Trembling, you were desperately trying to find his lips in this mess of your slightly wet hair, when Patrick suddenly gripped your neck, squeezing it and rocking into you with ragged deep thrusts. This insane mixture of sensations left you no chance but to fall over the edge, your inner walls spasmed around his throbbing cock so tightly–your vision turned white, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Daddyyyyyy…”

“Peach… F-fuck, you’re clenching so hard around me…” 

Slamming into you with his last strength, Patrick yanked you closer to press your forehead against his and then, with a feral growl, he shot his warm seed inside your pulsating womb, pumping you so hard until his cum flowed down your thighs. Shivering, you hugged him tighter, nuzzling against his neck and spreading your legs wider as your pussy was so greedy for every drop of his fertile cream.

It felt delicious, being ruined by him and claimed. 

Totally exhausted, you were about to get off of him when you heard his grumpy voice: “My dear, where are you going?” he pinched your ass, making you flinch. “Did you forget what the doctor said?”

“About us having a regular sex?” You rejoined tiredly. 

“No, baby,” Patrick laughed, taking your tresses away to look into your eyes. “We need to lie like this for some time, but that thing’s also very important.”

Gasping, you rolled your eyes from his didactic tone, staying still cause you didn’t want to argue with him. “As you say, daddy.”

Patrick knew you were teasing him, but he didn’t react, as he decided to leave it for later. “We have to go downstairs and try this fucking cheesecake, cause my mum won’t leave us alone,” he scowled, rolling both of you on the side. “And… I think we need to cancel all our plans for tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“We have an entire night ahead,” he smirked, tracing his thumb against your lower lip. “I doubt you could move after it.”

A muffled whine of protect fell from your lips before he caught your mouth, covering your little body with his powerful one and damn–he was still unbelievable hard inside you. 

“P-Patrick?”

“Shhh, little one. I got you…”

[embodyingchaos]

Hello again!!!can I do an ask for the episode when sebastion throws the slushie in blaines face and the reader just attacks him? (Sebastion deserved a beating for that ong) or could you write about when coach bieste first showed up and when everyone was avoiding her the reader does their best to talk to her(bieste also deserved better, shue and sue were jerks)??? THANK YOU

❥ hiii! so glad to see you on my asks again! i shall write the first option! i apologise that this is late and short and the ending is so abrupt 〒▽〒

definitely deserved pairing: glee x gn!reader genre: platonic, angst warnings: light violence, light assault, sebastian being an ASSHOLE, not rlly a character x reader word count: 1.5k

walking through the library on a monday morning was the usual routine for y/n, rummaging through books for research and song ideas. just as they took a book off a shelf, they were jump-scared by the face of a beaming rachel berry.

“holy shit, rachel. you can’t just do that to a person.” y/n scolded, placing a hand above their chest, trying to calm down their rapidly beating heart. “sorry, was wondering what you were up to. needed something to get my mind off… something.” rachel said suspiciously, looking like there was something heavy on her mind as she walked around the bookcase towards them. y/n noticed the tension but decided not to pry. “i’m just looking through some things.” the two of them made their way to the seating area, joining quinn and tina who were having a conversation.

“hey, guys.” y/n greeted, taking a seat beside the blonde. the two only smiled and waved.

y/n went through their books as the other three had their conversation before blaine came strutting into the library, singing a michael jackson classic, ‘wanna be startin’ somethin’’ alongside kurt, mercedes, santana and brittany. the four joined immediately, used to this at this point.

they all regrouped at the choir room soon enough and discussed about the first michael jackson number they’d do for the weak, planning out costumes based on some of mj’s iconic outfits.

after the rehearsal, a small part of the glee club met up after school the next day. “okay, favourite michael jackson memory. go!” blaine tells them and they all smiled. “when i was one, my mom showed me a vhs tape of his motown special, and when he did the moonwalk across the stage for the first time in history, i uttered my first words - ‘hot damn.’.” y/n grinned at the thought of a baby artie saying those words, finding it totally believable.

“i owe the king of pop a deep debt of gratitude. he’s the first one to pull off the sequined military jacket long before one kurt hummel made it iconic.” kurt boasted, “i have to be honest. i never really got him.” rachel’s words immediately caused everyone’s faces to morph into disbelief. “no way.” “and we are no longer on speaking terms.” y/n and artie share a look.

rachel quickly defends herself, saying she believed he is an amazing performer but she never really got what he was about. though these reasons did not calm them down, y/n could understand where she was coming from.

“okay, but just since you guys are so jazzed about him, i think it’s a good idea for regionals-” “that might not be the best idea.” a new voice entered the discussion and it was a voice they all dreaded. “hey, blaine. hello, everyone else.” sebastian smythe, a member of the dalton academy warblers and basically kurt’s arch nemesis. “does he live here or something? seriously, you are always here.” kurt asked incredulously, flabbergasted at the fact he showed up out of nowhere. y/n snorted before taking a sip of their drink.

artie ignored the two of them, “why don’t you think that’s a good idea?” “because we’re doing mj for regionals.” at sebastian’s words, y/n sighed into their cup before sinking further into the leather armchair they were on. “you see, warblers drew first position, so as soon as i heard what your plan was, i changed our set list accordingly.” he explained with a smug expression on his face, y/n really wanted to punch him.

“i’m sorry, how did you hear?” rachel asked, fully upset. “blaine told me this morning.” y/n’s head turned to look at blaine who only rolled his eyes at the boy, “i just called for a tip on how to get red wine out of my blazer piping, and he would not stop going on about it.” at this point, the whole group was staring at him with an accusing look.

blaine avoids their gazes, “i may have mentioned it.” “how often do you talk?” kurt’s question makes sebastian fake chuckle. “oh my god! hey, kurt! i didn’t recognise you. you are wearing boy clothes for once!” santana had enough after that. “alright, twink, i think it’s time that i show you a little lima heights hospitality.” this made y/n throw their head back against the chair in exasperation, “unless you want to join your relatives in prison, that’s probably not the best idea.” sebastian’s comeback only makes them feel worst. y/n tuned him out as he talked even more, wanting nothing more but for him to leave and go away.

when he did, they sighed. “thank god. i thought he’d never shut up and leave. he’s like those never-ending interactive voice responses you get on automated telephone systems. he never shuts up.” y/n groaned, sitting up straight again. “we need to do something about michael.” kurt announced and they all nodded, agreeing to discuss what to do the next day.

the next day came faster than it could. everyone piled into the choir room and were complaining about the whole incident when puck suddenly spoke up about his suspicions over how blaine was still somehow a warbler. “come on, blaine’s with us. he’d never intentionally hurt our chances at winning regionals.” y/n defended, walking into the room with their sling bag, taking a seat beside blaine. 

blaine gives them a grateful smile, “either way, he’s on notice as far as i’m concerned.” “we should all be on notice.” finn interrupted his best friend, trying to reason with them. “i mean, next to vocal adrenaline, the warblers are the best glee club in the state and for a lot of us, this is our last shot at a championship, so we should stop complaining about the warblers and figure out how to beat them.” finn told everyone, being the voice of reason as usual.

“i couldn’t have said it better myself, finn.” mr. schue commented, walking into the room. “i’m less worried about our set list right now, and more interested in getting us in the right mind-set to crush those guys. which is why our lesson for the week is…” with a marker, he wrote down on the whiteboard ‘wwmjd’. “what would michael jackson do?” “he’d fight back. he’d say regionals is ours. mj is ours, and if they want it, they can pry it from our sequin-gloved hand.” y/n grinned at finn and nodded along, “mhm. straight up. in 1983, mtv said they wouldn’t air his ‘billie jean’ video, what’d he do? he fought back, they aired it and the thriller album sold an additional ten million copies.” artie added and y/n only stared at him, “you’re like a michael jackson encyclopaedia.” they commented quietly, the boy held a hand to his chest. “why, thank you.” he gratefully said.

blaine smirked, “i know what michael would do. i think he would take it to the streets.” at his words, the whole room filled with excited mutters. y/n kept quiet, though. they couldn’t help but feel like something was going to go wrong with this, terribly wrong.

after the glee club dispersed, they tried to chase blaine down before he got too far away. “blaine, are you sure this is a good idea?” they asked as the two of them walked to the entrance of the school. “i’m sure it’ll be all good. we’ll show them that they’re gonna regret taking michael from us, and then we’re going to get him back.” the former warbler said excitedly before heading out the door. “god, i hope so.” y/n whispered to themselves, clutching their bag tightly.

the day of the showdown arrives quicker than they expected. they’d all agreed to wear matching leather jackets, after kurt’s persistent determination, to have some unity. it was the new directions against the warblers after all.

at the sound of santana’s snap, the rest of the group came out and they started their jackson-off. truth be told, having a dance and sing-off in an empty parking lot was a very 60s thing to do but y/n had no complaints. their only complaint was that the more the song progressed and the closer they got to the ending, they’d seen one of the warblers grab a paper bag.

y/n’s eyes widened when they realise that sebastian was going to slushee kurt. “kurt!” they yelled but blaine had thrown himself in front of the boy, getting the liquid assault instead.

blaine yelled out in agony at the impact, falling to the ground as he pressed his palms against his eyes. everyone froze but y/n couldn’t handle it anymore. “you fucking asshole!” they clenched their fist tightly and laid a hard punch against sebastian’s face, making him stumble back towards his group members. “y/n.” finn warned them, placing a hand on their shoulder to calm them down so they don’t rip their rival into shreds.

the warblers soon fled the scene with guilty looks on their faces as they helped sebastian stabilise himself and walked off. the new directions could see that his lip was bruised and his cheek was swollen when he passed by. it was easy for any of them to say, he’s definitely deserved that punch in a while.

[munsonsreputation]

"fight or flight" by conan gray but make it steve x r

so like (you don't have to incorporate this but this is what my silly little thoughts came up with) r crushing on steve despite their long, strong friendship. r having to see steve with a new girl every week. r wishing it was her. and finally, r can't take it anymore and then that's where the song comes in "well, fight or flight, i'd rather die than have to cry in front of you. fight or flight, i'd rather lie than tell you i'm in love with you." and yeah.. aslkfjlsdk sorry if this didn't make sense 😭😭

cleo!!! this is one of my favorite songs by conan and i hope i was able to do your request justice 🧸💐 i kinda left the ending up to you to decide and i really hope you like this!!!

ive been loving the angst requests ive been getting and this is def one of my favorite ones i've written so far!!! 💌💫

It was so wrong. So very, very wrong. But at this point, you should’ve seen this coming. 

You’ve known Steve and been his friend long before high school. The two of you practically grew up together, hung out all the time, and there was only a brief pause in your friendship when freshman year came along…Steve transforming into King Steve…the version of Steve you didn’t quite know anymore. 

While the break in your friendship during that time was short, it wasn’t until he showed up at your doorstep apologizing for his behavior that you two reconciled. And then the two of you were back to being the best of friends, only this time, the desire for Steve starting to develop as the years went by. 

By now the two of you had graduated high school, each of you moving out of your parents’ home and renting out an apartment just a few minutes away from your neighborhood.

It was nice having Steve as a roommate. 

Having someone you could talk to at two in the morning when you couldn’t sleep. 

Waking up to breakfast being made in the kitchen with coffee just the way you liked it. 

Drunk karaoke nights where the two of you would belt out duets and receive angry letters in the mail from sleepless neighbors. 

And of course, a person you could always give you a hug at any given moment during the day. 

But sometimes it sucked to be roommates with Steve. 

Three months ago, he stumbled into your shared apartment with Tina, glue to his side. Offering you a shy smile as she and him giggled their way into his bedroom and spent the night together. 

You and Steve usually had movie nights on the weekends, and there was one instance where he phoned you from work, apologizing, saying he couldn’t make it because he had scored a date with a customer. 

The kitchen, just a few footsteps from the living room where the landline was, you could hear Steve talking to the next girl he was seeing, shooting her compliments as you tried not to seem affected by it, beating the eggs a little rougher as you tuned his voice out. 

And the shittiest part?

Having him come to you for advice on whichever girl he was seeing. Putting on a fake smile and nodding your head like you gave a shit about any of them when the only wish you had was that it was you that Steve was seeing. 

Fight or flight? 

Sometimes you could expect if he was coming to you for your advice regarding his dates. This was a lifesaver because you could fight it off, telling him to just talk to them if he was so worried about not hearing back. But most times your flight would activate, pretending to be asleep when he knocked on your bedroom door telling you it was a girl emergency. Or making up excuses that you had to run errands before he had time to even ask you at all. 

“Hello? Did she really zone out?” Your frozen eyes fluttered lazily, coming back to your senses while Nancy and Robin stood in front of you, flapping their hands in your face and looking at each other. 

“S-sorry!�� You withdrew, shaking your head as you got yourself together, fingers stiffening around the red solo cup you were holding filled with lemonade. 

Somehow you had been convinced to come to this party, by none other than Steve, of course. Thankfully, Robin, Nance, and Eddie were around too, sticking by your introverted side while Steve socialized with familiar faces. 

Robin smiled earnestly, shaking her head at your apology. “S’ok, you were just…staring a bit too hard at Harrington.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Robs,” Eddie chimed in, nudging her shoulder than sending a smirk your way, “she was practically eye-fucking him.” 

Nancy choked on her drink, suppressing her laugh, as you rolled your eyes, doing an awful job at concealing the blush that was developing on your cheeks prompting you to turn the other way. 

“Don’t be dick!” Robin scolded, shoving at Eddie’s head as he just continued to laugh to himself. 

You felt arms around you, flickering your eyes to Robin who was now holding you securely with her head on your shoulder, “She just has a crush alright…nothing wrong with that.” 

“Oh, I didn’t say there was anything wrong with her little crush…I’m just sick of these two dancing around their feelings.” Eddie noted, followed by the tsk of your tongue. 

“There are no feelings on his side…trust me.” You exhaled wistfully, resting your head on top of Robin’s as she and Nancy grunted skeptically. 

On the other side of your shoulder, you felt Nance slot herself there, glancing up at you. “Steve’s an asshole and he’s bad at feelings…but I know he likes you.” 

“We’ve been friends for years and he’s never made a move on me.” You speculated, and Eddie rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink before speaking. 

“Like Wheeler said, he’s bad with feelings…shit, I’m bad at feelings too, but that won’t stop me from getting some.” 

The three of you girls furrowed your brows at the somewhat tipsy metal head, “What the fuck are you talking about?” Robin shook her head as Eddie howled. 

“I hate to shit on my species here, but we find ways at avoiding. Steve likes you, alright? But he just doesn’t know how to tell you…better yet, he’s scared! So what does he do in return?” 

Nancy leans forward, shrugging her shoulders towards him. “Sleep around?” 

“Exactly!” Eddie beams and snaps his fingers, like a proud professor or something. 

You go for another drink, teeth biting down on the plastic as you grumbled, “Seems like a pretty fucked up thing if you ask me.” 

Robin nods, peering up at you. “Have you ever thought about going for girls? They aren’t as complicated, trust me.” She half jokes, as you laugh lightly, waving her off. 

“Maybe you should make the first move?” Eddie proposed as you puffed, letting out an absurd laugh, shaking your head with vigor. 

“Nope!” You pointed your finger at him, wagging it back and forth as he pouted innocently, “Never going to fucking happen.” 

Nancy squeezed your elbow, gaining your attention. “You’ll never know what could have been unless you say something.” 

Your eyes widened, shaking your head even more roughly, “No! Not you too! C’mon, back me up Robs!” 

You turned back to Robin who smiled, looking over towards Steve who was talking to some guys at the punch table. “They have a point…and he’s right there!” 

Eddie leaned closer to your ear, whispering, “And no girl in sight.” 

There was a point Eddie was making. Steve hadn’t been seeing any girls that you knew of for the past couple of weeks. In fact, he was more adamant about staying in at the apartment with you. Spending nights together falling asleep on the couch watching movies and waking up in the morning a tangled mess as the two of you laughed and made breakfast together. 

Maybe he did like you?

“Oh shit! You’re debating it, aren’t you!” Robin egged on, bumping your shoulder with hysteria, seeing the look in your eyes change the second you found Steve in the crowded home. 

Nancy yelped, jumping up and down and hitting Eddie’s chest cheerfully, “She’s totally gonna do it!” 

“Well, what are you waiting for, princess?” Eddie pushed you lightly, giving you some bravery. “Go and tell the boy you love him.” 

You snapped back, eyes widening, “I do not love Steve!” 

The three rolled their eyes, sick of your horrible way of lying or being so bad at knowing your own feelings that you couldn’t tell the difference between an innocent crush and the obvious love that you held for Steve. 

“You’ve been friends for years…you love him. How many times do you two say “I love you” to each other on a daily basis?”

Ok true, you two did say you love each other, every night before heading off to bed and every morning before you’d part for work. But it was in a friend way…right? 

Ok maybe you said it more than those two instances.

Like when Steve would drop you off lunch even when you didn’t ask. Or that one time that Steve almost forgot to turn off the stove and when he called you panicking, but you had already turned it off the second you got home and saw the red light illuminating the glass. 

You loved Steve…more than a best friend should. 

“Ladies, I think it’s finally hitting her.” Eddie declared as the two girls grinned and nodded. 

No more fighting it and definitely no more running away. 

You had to tell Steve how you felt. 

Feeling the wave of certainty flow through your veins, you thrusted your now empty cup into Eddie’s chest and he grabbed it. The three of your friends watching as you took a deep breath and dragged your feet from the other side of the room to where Steve was. 

His eyes instantly shifted to your figure the second he saw you appear his peripheral, shooting you that classic smile you’d never get tired of seeing time and time again. 

“Hey, you ok?” He sought, peering behind you to see your friends watching on with concentration.

“Yeah, I’m great!” You responded too enthusiastically, making him grin again, this time reaching for a cup to serve you some punch. 

You watched his movements, moving ever so smoothly despite the cramped space, “I—I actually have to tell you something.” You straightened up, rolling your shoulders back and taking a deep breath. 

He nodded, keeping his eyes set on you as he spooned in a ladle full of juice into the plastic cup, offering it to you, but you shook your head, waving your hands for him to keep it. 

“You’re shaking,” Steve furrowed his brows, noticing your shuddering hands, placing down the cup and steadying them in his hold while he squeezed. 

The action making your knees weak, threatening for you to melt into a pile of mush and seep into the floorboards beneath you. 

“Did someone do something to you?” He ordered worriedly, looking around the party to study every person as if they caused this state of you. 

“Nonono!” You closed your eyes, shaking your head, psychologically preparing yourself. 

You could hear Steve let out a sigh of relief, gripping your hands once more before you opened your eyes, facing his soft gaze. 

“I’m in love with you.” 

The words flew out of your mouth too fast for your like and definitely too easily. Like there was no hesitancy behind your statement. His eyes enlarged, hands freezing against yours while the two of you stared at each other, feeling like hours were passing by when it was just milliseconds. 

“I... I, um, wow, ok, I—“ 

Steve was stumbling, undoubtedly taken aback by this confession while trying to look deep down inside himself for the right words to finally say to you, but they never came up. 

“Steve, what’s going on?” 

A voice popped up from behind him. The girl standing with a look of hurt on her face, seeing the hands tangled together. She was just a girl he met a few nights ago, the one who invited him to this party. 

Oh, my god. You should’ve known. 

You dropped his hands, eyes darting between the stranger and Steve, who looked just as remorseful and apologetic, stumbling on his words once again. 

Fight or Flight. Fight or Flight. Fight or Flight. 

The lump in your throat grew bigger and tighter, not knowing if you should apologize or say that it was a mistake. And you could feel the tears creeping into your eyes, just moments away from slipping out, but you’d rather die than cry in front of him right now. 

Leave. Definitely leave. 

Spinning around, you only caught the concerned looks of your friends before you bumped into bodies trying to find the front door so that you could flee the scene as quickly as possible. 

Thankfully, you and Steve had gotten to the party separately. Him coming from work and you taking your car. Your fingers dug into your pocket, jamming the key into the car door once you found it, and starting up the vehicle. 

The wind rustled as you sped, loud and deep chested sobs leaving your mouth as the roads and stoplights were a blurry mess behind your tears. Cursing at yourself for being so stupid for believing that Steve could ever quit his antics and have feelings for you. 

There was no way you and Steve could live under the same roof again. Not after this godforsaken night. So you stormed through the apartment, collecting all your belongs and stuffing it into backpacks and stray boxes you had lying around. Needing to leave this place you once called home so that you would never have to see Steve ever again and talk about what had happened. 

But the phone rung noisily, garnering your attention as you messily crammed clothes into already full bag of garments, wanting to avoid having to do a second trip here to get all your things because that would mean running into Steve, again.

You cried, pushing off the floor and neglecting the clutter as you ran out of your room and into the living room where the landline rested on the side table. Perhaps it was Robin or Nancy calling to check up on you, knowing they were too late when they reached the outside of the party and your car was long gone.

“Hello,” You sniffled, picking up the phone and trying not to sound so crushed. 

Cries came from the other side of the line, confusing you, “Are you his fucking roommate!?” It was a female voice that snapped at you, accompanied by more cries and expletives. 

“W-what?” You croaked, forehead creasing as you repeated the question in your head, trying to go through the list of people who it could be.

Maybe the neighbor downstairs who could hear you scrambling from above them. 

“Are you Steve’s roommate?” The voice ordered as you gulped, detesting to hear his name. 

You sighed sadly, closing your eyes as you could feel the hot tears never stopping since you came home, “Y-yeah…soon the be ex-roommate.” 

There was a laugh, almost mockingly, until she spoke. “I bet you’re happy with yourself! He loves you and you stole him from me! I asked him out first and you just fucking stole him from me.” 

You choked, fingers tightening around the phone, eyes hurling open once you realized who it was and what she was saying. 

Then there were noises outside the door. Frustrated curses and mumbles, along with the sounds of keys jumbling against each other. 

Slamming the phone back down onto the receiver, you stood up, darting towards the door to open it, but it had already been unlocked from the outside and there Steve was, nearly knocking into you if he hadn’t halted on time. 

His chest was rising and falling rapidly, hands shaking just like yours earlier that night as you two stared at each other. 

And finally he spoke. 

“I’m in love with you, too.” 

This time, you didn’t want to fight it or flee the scene. 

It was up to you and Steve now. 

[daiki1k]

“I’m so sorry that you have to have a body.”

TW: very very very much implied S/a, drug use, Daiki gets drugged??, Daiki in general. yall wanted the angst.

<scene one: 戯け者>

heart carefully beats against ribcage , blood feels painfully cold within a warm body. ears pick up on the sound of a crowd. talking, music, glasses being set on tables, a heart pounding against a chest that suddenly felt too thin.

calm. make a mess and you’re sure to be punished.

was this not punishment enough?

“Daiki.” a cold and robotic voice calls out from behind the woman, startling her. still, not enough for her to show it.

“Guardian.” her own voice is steady, devoid of any emotion. there was no need to put up an act, not infront of EXO.

two of six ‘hands’ find themselves on the humans shoulders, head leaning down to whisper into her ear.

“give them a good show.” that’s all that needed to be said, such a simple sentence to have Daiki sweating bullets.

there’s silence as the alien walks off, leaving the pet behind. hands ball into fists, careful not to tear into palms with grown out nails despite the urge - the need to do so. for she knew what was to come, to give a good show is to present herself to the highest payers.

it was humorous in a way. it had been years since she first began preforming. in her head, when she had sliced through thick hair it would defile her - make her appear less attractive and unworthy of the ‘grace’ being bestowed upon her by the superior race. those damned aliens. no. no no no.

cutting her hair was the worst mistake, that blade should’ve been used to cut through artery’s in the neck. that would be infinitely more merciful than what was to come after that. infinitely more merciful than was was to come during her show.

inhaling sharply, eyes remain half lidded as a smile finds itself on pale lips. curtains are drawn and lights are turned to her direction.

<scene two: 星>

Daiki observed the crowd of wealthy aliens, winking to the individual who sat front row right where she would be singing. anything to get them to pay attention.

cheers, applaud, fulfillment.

once again, a job completed. the easy part, at least.

this was a premium show.

the performer descends into the crowd, it was time to converse, to entertain further.

somehow, somewhere, a pill is slipped into the disgusting drink in her hand. sips are taken, substance quickly working itself into an empty system.

I feel sick. it’s too bright. it’s too much.

hazy eyes glance past the creature before her, the exit was across the room. but she couldn’t move, limbs refused to work and even her mind began to turn against her.

noo. . . pleassse. . . Tina. . please. your handss. . Tina. . .

drug induced hallucinations begin to warp her reality, hands clenching into fists again as eyes roll up. heart speeds and slows, painfully, Daiki loses control of her own body. but she feels it.

she feels the hands, the mouths, the unwanted attention.

was this her punishment? for existing? for enjoying the single thing she had in this life?

in these situations, Daiki had always cursed the fact she was fully conscious. but being under the influence while knowing (or, in reality, not knowing) what’s being done to her body was much worse. all sense of control is lost as mind is plagued with horrific illusions. for once, DAIKI KONDO had not a single thing under her control. not the aliens, not the entire base of technology that ran ALIEN STAGE.

and then black.

<scene three: 強い人>

eyes flicker open, sitting up too fast causes the room to spin uncomfortably. it was empty. quiet curses escape chapped lips, standing up despite weakened body calling out to collapse.

she couldn’t. she had to get back, back to her. back to her Tina. to have her hands over the tainted flesh, to purify disgusting skin. Daiki longed for her savior, her reason for living. she needed Tina to right the wrong of recent events.

but first, she needed to return to Guardian EXO. to report a job ‘well done’.

how she wanted to tear its head off, stab those stupid eyes, bite into and rip apart the bastard creature that kept her enslaved. but, even now, as she stands before it. nothing happens, normal conversation plays out before she’s permitted to return to her personal room. personal room shared with her beloved.

immediately something is off to Tina.

a smile doesn’t greet her, only dried tears and bloodshot eyes. hands fall to her side, sheet of music fluttering to the floor.

for Daiki, if Tina didn’t know about her true performances, she wouldn’t care. she wouldn’t care what would happen to her. but Tina did see, she witnesses the aftermath and she frowns.

Daiki won’t let anyone or anything make Tina frown. not without punishment.

so she will get her revenge. she will get them both out of this cage, out to live their best lives. to be together without any sorrow. to paradise.

but first. . . she needed to get through her first round. who was her opponent again..? Tallis, was it? yes, the harp player. she wouldn’t allow herself to lose to him, not to anyone.

for Tina’s sake.

Tallis : @lookatmysillies

[bi-lavelent]

Lone Wolf (Quinn Fabray x Fem-Reader Part 5)

Warning:Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Cussing, Slight Smut

We were singing don’t stop believing when Quinn got sick everybody stood still. As she ran out the room.

“I think she just had a bad break-feast burrito.” Finn said

“Can we please talk about the giant elephant in the room.” Kurt said you had started to get up from your seat Santana didn’t Miss a beat

“your sexuality.” Santana said

“Rachel we can’t do it without Rachel.” Kurt said

you had made your way to the door

“Hey Schue I gotta use the bathroom.” I asked

I ran off with my purse which now a-days I just kept stuff to help Quinn in. I ran to the bathroom that she usually goes to I found what stall she was in and opened the door. The locks never did work on the stalls. I handed her a ginger tea and some crackers in hopes it would help her. I sat outside the stall for a moment.

“Thank you I don’t know what I would without you cause clearly neither my boyfriend or the father of the baby came to help.” Quinn said

“I wish I had someone like me to help me out back then it’s the least I can do for you.” I stated

Me and Quinn headed back to the classroom at different times you let her go back first. Then I came in a couple minutes later.

Mrs.Pillsbury called me into her office. As I arrived you saw Finn leaving.

“Hay Y/N” Mrs. Pillsbury said

“Why am I here?” I asked

“I wanted to talk to you about life after school. Clearly you won’t be graduating this year. But I think we should look into some scholarships.” Mrs. Pillsbury said

I sat down my legs spread open I was wearing sweats so nothing was shown. I usually wore leather but with me helping with Quinn and her calling me at all hours of the night. I haven’t gotten much sleep recently.

“Look I get that you’re doing your job but Mrs.Sylvester is usually the one who talks to me about scholarships. She looking to find ones that fit me.” I told her “I’m gonna leave okay, I hope you don’t take this personally. It’s just that I don’t really get along well with new people.”

I walked out of the room and my way back to class. There was a really important test today so I had to show up otherwise my grade would be horrible and Sue would get on my ass and wouldn’t let me be near the Cheerios saying I’m a bad role model or whatever. Which I am a bad role model but Quinn still needed me.

The next day in Glee I was sat next to Santana and Brittnay and Quinn. My sister was sat next to her boyfriend. Mr. Schue came in with a guest

“Guys I’d like to introduce you to someone very special this is April Rhodes.” Mr. Schue said looking at the person next to him “She’s our newest member”

“Wait so old people can join glee club now.” Finn asked

Well Puck shot finger guns at her

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like that actress in wicked. The blonde one.” I asked

“Old hugh, you guys look like the world worst Benetton add.” April said completely ignoring me

“What’s Benetton?” I asked

“A fashion place sorry we all don’t get our clothes from biker chics and Lazy zone.” Rachel said

“Wait are those actual stores? Can you give me the address?” I asked

Santana patted my shoulder

“No those aren’t actual stores y/n” Santana said

“Okay back on topic god you guys can go off on a tangent about anything.” Mr.Schue said

“Mr.Schuester this seems like a terrible idea” Artie said

“April is a great singer.” Mr. Schue stated “And she never graduated.”

“Look maybe if we could hear the senior that you pinned over your freshman year sing we could actually know.” I said

“We appreciate what you’re trying to do but she’s no Rachel.” Mercedes said

“A walking talking I need to have it all my way cry baby.” I said

“Y/n shut up she’s our star.” Tina said

“Your star, well where is she.” April asked

“She left to be the lead in cabaret.” Kurt said

She sang beautifully. (Kristine Chenoweth is part of my family so I feel weird writing anything else about her)

April tried to get close to me.

“Look I don’t have a problem with an older person being in Glee. But I do have a problem with you corrupting the kids. You don’t have to deal with Kurt when he has a hangover and you didn’t have to bail Mercedes and Tina out of jail when they got arrested for shoplifting. I did okay so if you want to be near these kids. I need you to grow up and remember when you were in high school and we’re scared of getting slushied.” I said

I was sitting in glee club when everyone was talking about Quinn and Brittnay was doing Santanas hair.

“I bet you guys also thought Burt and Ernie were roommates. Maybe Quinn’s got one in the oven.” Puck said

“Who’s the baby’s dad?” Mercedes asked

“Who do you think, Finn.” Puck said

Puck left the room and walked out to the hallway I walked out after him.

“Look Dude I know that you’re mad that Quinn won’t let you be the father but you didn’t have the right to do that in there.” I said

“Oh really and what do you know about this situation?” He asked

“Sure has a hell lot more than you. Do you know where Quinn is so I can tell her what you just did in there.” I said

He said “You ain’t gonna till her shit” as he swung back and punched straight in you face you felt blood dripping from your nose

“oh yeah like she’ll want you around the kid now you idiot. You just gave me proof of what you did and will tell her that you told everyone.” I said

I didn’t notice that Quinn was standing watching. She was walking down the hallway waiting to go to glee.

“Oh just like you told her when you saw Finn kiss Rachel or the other time you saw Finn kiss Rachel.” He said

“You were clearly there both times so why didn’t you tell her?” I asked

“because I’m in love with her.” He said

“oh well you sure have some way of showing it. Oh let me get my best friends girlfriend drunk on wine coolers while she feels shitty about herself fuck her without a condom and then proceeded to tell everyone in Glee club.” I said

“why didn’t you tell her?” He asked

“Because she’s been through enough. Anyone who looks at her can tell that about her and I was gonna tell her about their kiss yesterday at the bowling alley and I’m gonna use the other one for dirt on Rachel cause lord knows we all need some dirt on that bitch. Now leave the school and come back tomorrow when you longer have you head up your ass.” I said

I walked back into the Glee room. We all were getting ready for that performance tonight.

“Damn I look hot.” I said as I looked at myself in the mirror

“I will never understand your sexual attraction to people wearing these hats.” My sister said

“Yeah well you don’t have to and also keep it down.” I said with a finger over her mouth

“Why do you find the someone attractive to night?”She asked

everyone looked at me

“No I don’t because in a couple months I will be 18 and you will also still be children.” I said

Did I find people attractive yeah. But I found them attractive even when they weren’t wearing these outfits. Was I having a fantasy in my head were i was a cowgirl sitting in a salon and Santana walked in in her cowgirl outfit and slowly started getting undressed with the help of Quinn and Brittnay and then one scissored me while the other one Rode my face and one sucked on my boobs and we all took turns. No I would never admit to that.

“You know I never thought that we would all have to dress like you did when you were in middle school.” My sister said

“Wait you dressed like this on purpose ?” Santana asked

“you seriously dressed like this nerd ?” Puck said

“Who would willingly wear this ?” Kurt asked

“Oh come on I thought this was a judgement free zone also how is Santana the only nice one with her comment ?” I asked

“I think you look good I have no clue why you would stop dressing like that.” Matt said

“Thanks Matt but you still can’t have sex in house with my sister well I’m there.” I said

Santana walked over to me and said “Hay Y/n can you help put this hat on. Since it’s your area of expertise.”

Everyone laughed

“You know what laugh all you want half of your hats on backwards. Including yours Hope.” I said as I grabbed her hat and put it on the right way

“Can you please help me with mine before my Mr.Schue comes in.” Quinn asked

“Mine too” Finn asked

“Yes I’ll help everyone but first Santana.” I said as I walked around the room fixing or teaching them how to put the hat on

“Hay Brittnay why don’t you have yours on.” I asked

“I’m waiting for the bunny to get out of it.” She said

I went over and I stuck my hand in infront of her

“See Brittnay there’s no rabbit in there anymore it must have jumped out already.” I told her and helped her put hers on

“Thank you Hope right?” She asked

“Hopes my sister Brittnay my name is Y/n” I told her

Everyone watched at how easily I talked to her. In shook it wasn’t hard though she wasn’t stupid it just took her a little bit longer than other people to understand things. Soon we were all singing around the piano I was standing between Brittnay and Santana. Hope stood next to her boyfriend and his friends. Soon Mrs.Rhodes came in dancing around the children and kissed puck.

“APRIL HANDS OFF THE KIDS!! GO DRINK SOME COFFE FOR THE NEXT THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE WE HAVE TO BE ON AND SOBER UP. I AM TIRED OF YOUR BEHAVIOR AROUND THESE KIDS THEY NEEDED ROLE MODELS I WAS HOPING THAT WHEN MR.SCHUE BROUGHT YOU THAT YOU WOULD HELP ME MENTOR THEM. BUT YOU HAVE JUST MADE THINGS WORSE AND CONTINUE TO.” I yelled Mr.Schue looked at me shocked but knew I was right.

Everyone looked at me like I had just messed up a good thing that we had going. But I was just trying to look out for them. We still were forced to go on with April I tried to keep her away from the kids the best I could.

I saw Rachel in the audience. I snuck off stage and ran to grab her I told her everything and for the first time ever we agreed. That April Rhodes shouldn’t be around kids and Rachel agreed to come back to Glee. Things felt right again I just hoped that Mr.Schue would get rid of April and let Rachel go on. It turns out she had practiced all the songs and was prepared she just had to get dressed. We got back after a while with Rachel saving the day I didn’t even care that I didn’t get credit for bringing her I was just happy that the kids were safe now away from April.