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#Quickly! Before the end of 2023 notices! (The year has been over for two and a half months now lol)

toasttt11 · 3 months

Text

she chose him; vince dunn

summary: blake ellington a famous person in the formula one world and the fiancé of vince dunn.

blake ellington x vince dunn

Blake Ellington a name well known in the Formula one world. Having joined the sport in 2018 with Red Bull and coming second in the Drivers Championship and having won multiple races as a rookie the world knew she was going to become big in the sport. Her second season in 2019 she became the first ever female World Driver Champion. She shocked everyone by announcing her move to Mercedes and she only signed a one year contract she easily won the championship that year and She shocked the world again and announced her move to Ferrari Formula one team, in 2021 She came second in the Drivers Championship and Max Verstappen won his first Championship. In 2022 she became the first Ferrari World Driver Champion since 2006. Before deciding to continue her career with Mclaren Formula one team in 2023, quickly leading the standings within the first few races.

Blake was born in Ontario, Canada growing up next to the Dunn family, being two years younger than Vince made him very protective of his best friend, for years the two danced around their feelings for each other. Blake not wanting to mess anything up with their friendship thinking he would never feel the same, and Vince being so in love with her he thought she only saw him like a big brother.

Vince in 2017 got really drunk after a game with his teammates and ended up leaving a long voicemail for Blake, confessing all of his feelings for his best friend, not even knowing he sent the voicemail.

Blake woke up the next morning with a voicemail from Vince, who was confessing his love, luckily for them he was coming home the next day in which he was welcomed by a smack on the head and a kiss from her and from them the two have been together.

October 21, 2023

Vince has always noticed over the last few years when he went to Blake’s races that Lando has always been around and Vince never saw any problem with that as Blake has been very helpful with Lando since he joined formula one and has been good friend to Lando, no the problem Vince had was Lando’s looks that he sent his fiancé and the touches Lando always tried to pass off as platonic, of course Blake always just thought of Lando as a friend to in love with Vince to even think Lando could be in love with her.

Vince and Blake’s schedules have always been very hectic and a lot of times there schedules are never free at the same time, Blake is usally around the world in a different time zone and Vince is around the states, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try to always see each other as much as possible.

Vince took a flight right after his game that night right to Austin Texas, having two days off before he next game and wanting to be there for Blake when she clinches her fourth World Championship, he was exhausted after he got off the plane but it would be worth when he saw his fiancé. He got an uber to the hotel and went to the front desk telling his name and they gave him the key card to their room.

It was already midnight when he got into Austin and he knew Blake would try and stay up to see him but would end up falling asleep, he dragged his suitcase to the hotel room and quietly opened the door, he saw Blake peacefully sleeping in the bed in his hoodie, he smiled softly as his fiancé as dropped his suitcase sliding off his shoes and set his phone on the nightstand before sliding into the bed next to his beautiful fiancée.

“Vinny?” Blake mumbled her eyes fluttering open and she naturally cuddled up closer to him.

“Hello my darling, go back to sleep i’ll be here when you wake.” Vince softly cooed wrapping his arms around and pressing a soft kiss to the crown on her head.

“Mmk love you.” Blake mumbled quickly falling back to sleep.

“I love you too.” Vince slowly dozed off content with his girl in his arms.

October 22, 2023

Blake woke up feeling arms wrapped around and happily hummed as waking up with Vince meat to her is her favorite way to wake up. She gently leaned her chin on his chest tracing her fingers against his face, feeling the light stubble on her fingers, she leaned up pressing a kiss to his nose, and then his cheek and then his lips, Vince’s hand came up to the back of her head holding her to him as he kissed hee back.

Vince pulled back cupping her face smiling at her, “I missed you.” Vince pressed a soft kiss to her head.

“I missed you too.” Blake kissed his cheek, “But soon we won’t be apart as much.”

Blake had decided she didn’t want to keep racing after this year feeling she accomplished everything and more that she wanted to in Formula one and besides she kinda wants to just live her life and be able to enjoy life without Formula one. And she wants to plan her dream wedding and she wants to be able to have kids with a Vince one day.

“You know you don’t have to retire.” Vince wanted her to know she didn’t have to retire just to see him more.

“I want to, i am honestly really kinda done with racing.” Blake loved racing she always has but the passion and fire it once gave her has faded over the years.

“Okay it’s your decision.” Vince nodded kissing her.

“Come one we’ve got to get ready.” Blake pulled Vince out of bed and towards the bathroom where they got ready.

Blake was wearing a pair of jean shorts, a white flowy tank top and white cowgirl boots, she slipped her engagement ring onto her necklace, before looking over at Vince seeing him on his phone in black jeans and grey t-shirt with grey vans.

They got in car to drive them to the track, Vince got out first holding a hand for Blake, they walked hand and hand pass all the camera ignoring them as they talked to each other.

Lando who was sitting outside the Mclaren moterhome waiting for Blake scowled when he saw who was with her this weekend. Lando who has been in love with Blake for years now.

Oscar who was the Mclaren Reserve driver this year shook his head at Lando, wondering when Lando would understand Blake has always been in love with Vince nothing is going to change that.

Vince stayed with Blake as she warmed up and did all her Pre race routine and before she knew it she was zipping up her race suit and Vince was holding her blue helmet, as blue has always been her favorite color and blue reminds her of Vince. Vince gently slid her helmet on buckling the straps before pressing a gentle kiss on the helmet where her forehead is, “Go drive my love.”

Vince stood in the garage watching her get on the track and getting ready to race.

Before Vince knew he was cheering with the whole garage as Blake finished first winning the Championship for the fourth time, He rushed out with everything towards Blake.

Vince proudly smiled as watching Blake stand on top of her car with her hands in the air, Blake took off her helmet setting it into her car and hopped off her car and running straight to Vince, she pulled him into a passionate kiss hearing the thousands of clicks coming from all the cameras but she didn’t care.

Vince breathlessly chuckled as they pulled away from each other, “I’m so proud of you.” Vince whispered to his fiancé getting a beaming grin in return, he let her go to let her celebrate with her team.

Vince watched her walk last and onto the top step, Vince proudly smiled the whole time at his beautiful girl. Blake happily grinned on the podium looking down towards Vince the whole time not even noticing Lando trying to get her attention.

Blake lifted her trophy in to the air hearing all the cheers, she was covered in champagne by the end of the podium.

Blake nodded at the interview letting them question her after her win, they asked is she had anything to say as most were wondering if she was staying with Mclaren next year or joining another team, “Ah, i would like to thank all the teams that have welcomed me into their families, coming next year i will no longer be racing in Formula one, here is my official statement of my retirement.” Blake smiled simply ignoring the loud disappointment coming from the crowd or the millions of questions from the press walking away.

Vince saw Lando’s face drop and he couldn’t help but smirk seeing Lando realize Blake wouldn’t be around much anymore. Vince has always been jealous with Lando around because Lando never respected the fact Blake didn’t feel that way with him and Vince hated that Lando never acknowledged Blake was in a relationship. Vince trusted Blake but he never trusted Lando.

Blake walked to Vince wrapping an arm around his waist, “Ready to go home?” Blake smiled at Vince, Vince looked down at Blake who was smiling at him and knew whatever jealousy he felt because of Lando faded away as she always chose him.

“Let’s go home.” Vince pressed a kiss to the top of her head as they walked out together.

#vince dunn x reader #vince dunn #lando norris x reader #lando norris #oscar piastri #mclaren f1 #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula 1 #red bull racing #mercedes #ferrari f1 #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen #oscar piastri x reader #seattle kraken

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pariahsparadise · 4 months

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Can we get an enemies to lovers with JJ Maybank x gn!reader-

JJ and reader just annoy the hell out of each other, but maybe A gets into a fight and B decides to patch them up. They end up confessing to each other. <3

nav. | m.list

a/n: i haven't written in over a year, maybe two. this is completely unedited and also not proofread AT ALL. sorry this is so late and so shitty, anon from april 2023.

pairings: jj maybank x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

"What are you doing here?"

JJ starts, and is immediately punished by the pang of pain that rushes through his body. He pretends not to notice how your eyes glance over him, analytical, filing away every sign of weakness. He hates being vulnerable, especially when it's in front of you, but he doesn't exactly have a choice.

"Can I come in?" he asks, instead of answering your question. Wordlessly, you step aside, letting him walk past you before closing the door softly.

"Bedroom," you tell him, your tone gentler now. He wishes that's how you always talked to him. "I'll go get the first-aid kit."

JJ nods and finds his way to your bedroom, passing the framed certificates and shelves that adorn the hallway, filled with stacks of trophies and medals that you amassed over the years. Although he usually makes fun of you for being such a nerd all the time, the gold is a stark reminder of how you're actually extremely intelligent. You're worth something. Unlike him.

Maybe his issue with you has always been jealousy. Jealous that you've managed to achieve so much for a Pogue, despite having had the same opportunities as him. But it's more likely that he hates you because you're so icy, rational in your arguments, your words always so polished as they slice into him, cutting him down. He can see the judgement in your eyes when he smokes weed or drinks in front of you, when he cracks a stupid joke about the brunette he had in his bed the other day. He can feel the contempt in the insults you hiss at him when he goes too far and pisses you off completely.

But despite it all, he hates that he still wants to win your approval. That he wishes you would let him make you laugh like John B does, or sling an easy arm around you the way Kiara can.

He sits on your chair when you gesture for him to, placing the medical kit on the table next to it. JJ finally takes the time to focus his eyes on you, glancing over your white night shirt and impossibly short shorts. He feels a pang in his chest. There are dark circles under your eyes, and your hair is all messy. He obviously woke you up from some much-needed sleep. If he plans to win you over, which would already be extremely hard at this point, this would definitely be another set-back. Based on his past experiences, you're not particularly kind when you're sleep-deprived.

Which is why he's surprised when you begin cleaning his bleeding knuckles with the kindest touch in the world. The warm cloth is not nearly as comforting as the feel of your palm on his skin is, and he represses the urge to sigh.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" you ask him, moving on to apply some antiseptic to his cuts.

"Why should I tell you anything?" JJ asks, attacking you unthinkingly, reverting to his natural state of being in conflict with you. You stay uncharacteristically quiet, not responding to his taunt, and after standing still for a second, you go back to cleaning his knuckles.

Fuck. JJ's eyes fall shut, and he groans inwardly. Here you are, having let him into your home and bedroom, cleaning his injuries, and he's still being a dick to you.

"I'm sorry, I-" he suddenly gets cut off by your hands cradling his jaw, lifting his face up. JJ nearly gasps, and flushes out of his embarrassment when he sees your raised eyebrow, knowing you caught his reaction.

"Well, I was just going to apply some cream to the bruises forming here," you say, and you trail your fingers along his jaw, "but if it's such a problem, maybe I-"

"It's not a problem," JJ says, too quickly.

Without another word, and only the sliver of a self-satisfied smile, you treat his jaw and face.

JJ has always known he loves being the center of your attention. He revels in it, the way you glare at him after he provokes you, the way you yell when he steals your book. He loves being the only thing on your mind. But sitting here now, feeling your thumbs smooth along his cheekbones and your soft gaze, he knows there's most definitely a better way to receive it.

"What happened?" you ask again, and this time he tells you. Some tourists had been disrespectful to Kiara's parents at their restaurant, and it escalated to a fist fight between Kiara's dad and JJ and four other guys. The tourists must have had some level of common sense, because they more or less went easier on Kiara's dad, laying harder into JJ to make up for it.

"Assholes," you say when he's finished, barely concealed rage in your eyes as you appraise JJ and the injuries on his body with new context.

"It's fine, really," JJ reassures you, standing up. "Thanks for cleaning me up, but I should be on my way now-"

"Sit the fuck down." you spit at him, and he drops back into the chair with astonishing speed. "Take off your shirt. That fight was practically four-on-one, I'm not going to believe that you walked away with just grazed knuckles and a few bruises to your face."

Hesitantly, JJ removes his shirt. To your credit, you don't audibly react to the massive craters in his skin, colouring him in shades of ugly red and purple. Your eyes widen slightly, and after a few long seconds, you're back to normal and treating him with the same gentleness as before.

"Thank you for this," he says, more earnestly this time. You let out a hum in response, too busy doing your best to alleviate his pain. He goes on, "I mean it. You didn't have to do this, and I appreciate it."

You let out a sigh, raising your eyes to his face, "Of course I had to do this, JJ, it's the decent thing to do. I wasn't going to turn you away in the middle of the night, not in the condition you're in."

"Even if you think I'm some heartless bitch," you add, a moment later.

"I don't think that," JJ says, earning a scoff from you.

"Right," you mutter, straightening up and away from him. You pack the materials back into the kit and shut it with a loud snap, which is when JJ realises that you're done treating him. He puts his shirt back on and gets ready to make his exit when you stop him, again.

"Just sleep here tonight," you tell him, gesturing at your bed.

"What-no. Where will you sleep?"

"The couch." You don't even let him say two words of protest before immediately cutting him off, "Don't be obstinate. It's too uncomfortable there for you, especially considering the state of your torso, it's too late for you to walk back home or call someone to pick you up, so you'll stay here. I'll text John B to pick you up in the morning."

JJ listens to all this, taken aback by the amount of thought you've put into taking care of him. He scans your face, noting with surprise that your cheeks pink slightly when you make eye contact with him.

"What?" you say, a little flustered. He just laughs quietly, "Nothing. Just didn't realise you cared about me so much, 's all."

"Again, not a heartless bitch. Of course I care about you."

And just like that, there's a tectonic shift. The two of you are relatively unchanged, but there's this unspoken understanding that passes between you. It's the reason why you're able to press a soft kiss to an unblemished part of JJ's cheek before you slip out of the room, and why he's able to put his arm around you late one night when the whole group is hanging out at the Chateau.

He can't help but feel that the beating was worth it, really.

#woah that's a shitty ending #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj obx #obx #outer banks #outer banks ff #outer banks fanfiction #obx imagine #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x male!reader #jj maybank #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagine

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munsonthings86 · 1 year

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angels and demons

pairing: modern!eddie munson x fem!reader [also rockstar!eddie munson]

summary: who knew corroded coffin's eddie munson had a thing for his publicist's best friend? and who knew she felt the same way toward him?

warnings: "feminine" terms used, a bit of a slow burn, cursing, alcohol, marijuana, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, dirty smut, public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, degradation, praise, switch!eddie, switch!reader, no protection (use protection pls)

an: haven't written a fic in over four years but it's 2023 and this man still has a hold on me. so naturally, I decided to revamp and finish this fic that was collecting dust in my drafts. don't copy my shit seeing as it literally took me years to finish. minors dni. everyone else, enjoy.

wc: 11.6k [whoops]

Brushing through the ends of my hair, weeding out the remaining tangles, I kept my attention fixed on my close companion, Avery, as she yammered and rambled on, mainly pertaining to her exhilaration at her birthday ultimately making its arrival after enduring a seemingly endless year.

Working as a well-trusted publicist (doubling as a musician in her downtime), she spent the better part of her days ensuring and upholding the positive reputation of some even the most questionable celebrities.

Though she only entered the field due to her long-lived obsession with the enigmatic, fast-paced celebrity lifestyle, Avery had a deep desire to be the best at her job, rarely delegating time off to care for herself. This was the one time of the year she was free to loosen up, let her hair down, and be the wild spirit she truly was.

She’d exhausted much of her time and patience into planning the celebration, ensuring that no detail was left overlooked.

Perched beside me, she gently caressed a small makeup brush dusted with powder of a petal pink hue across her eyelid. She subconsciously bounced her leg high and low, and an obvious bearing of anxiety painted an unpleasant expression along her features. I soon took notice, resting a comforting hand against her shoulder. “Don’t be so nervous, everything will go as planned. We’ll have tons of fun,” I assured, offering a small smile.

“Thanks, [Y/N]. I just always get nervous about these things. But, yes, we will have tons of fun. Especially you, baby,” she smirks at her own sneakiness. Avery quickly glances at me, throwing a side eye to observe my reaction.

She’d been making sly comments since we’d begun getting ready together, about my impending enjoyment at the party. “Why do you keep doing that? Making those comments? You’re not telling me something, I can tell. You’ve been a bad liar since we were kids,” I reply, returning a face of suspicion.

“Me? Up to something? I don’t think so. Maybe you’re just reading into it too much.” Avery’s eyelids meet quickly before she sprays a mist of setting spray across the surface of her face, using a folding fan to dry her skin of any excess fluid. She runs her slender fingers through her highlighted locks, taking final looks at herself before leaving.

Truthfully, it was nearing two hours since the party actually commenced, but with Avery being who she was, she felt as though being fashionably late was a complete must.

And with me being her right hand, I was compelled to be unreasonably tardy with her.

Avery and I strolled over to the full body mirror mounted on the bedroom’s door, gussying ourselves up, adjusting anything that seemed to be out of place with our appearances.

Avery had a monochromatic outfit of white; a white leather top adorned with a matching skirt covering very little of her body, with white thigh-high boots protecting most of her legs, and a pale lengthy jacket draping her shoulders. She occupied her hand with a small purse, throwing thin black shades over her eyes.

I wore the same style of monochromacy, sporting a candy red velvet cropped tank top, with bellbottom pants of the same material and hue to match. Red chunky platform heels failed to cover much of my feet and my hair sat in place with the help of red hair pins as accessories.

Avery chose the theme of her party to be ‘angels and demons’, urging her invitees to dress in either red or white, depending on which they wanted to be.

She captures multiple pictures of us posing in the mirror for her social media to post later on into the night, avoiding a premature reveal of our outfits for those attending the party, who were still awaiting our arrival. “Come on, babes. Let’s not keep them waiting anymore,” she spoke after saving the images and shoving her phone into her purse.

“You’re telling me,” I rolled my eyes, following her out the entrance. I tread behind Avery down the walkway of the house, carefully, considering my unfamiliarity with wearing heels.

Entering the colossal, midnight-colored Cadillac Escapade Avery rented for the special night, we gave the incredibly patient chauffeur a signal to navigate us to the nightclub. The car slightly shakes after he turns the key in the ignition, switching on the engine.

I wrap the material of the seatbelt around myself, securing my frame to the seat. Avery mimics my actions, peering at me with a sly grin, subsequently. “Oh my gosh, Avery, what are you hiding? You have that look on your face,” I spoke, staring at her doubtfully.

An over-exaggerated expression of dismay morphs her features in reaction to my utterance. “Why do you keep thinking I’m hiding something from you? I’m just doing me,” she laughs, scrolling through her phone, before replying to a text.

“Who’s that,” I ask jokingly, using my fingers to form imaginary binoculars around my eyes, slightly leaning closer. She hurriedly jerks her phone away, out of my sight. “See! I knew you were lying. I always know when you’re plotting something. Now tell me, what is it,” I asked, not letting up on my intense glare.

“Fine, you caught me! But I’m still not saying a word. You’ll just have to find out when we get there,” she replies, maintaining secrecy. “I hate you,” I retort, shaking my head, starting to explore my phone as well.

“Oh, trust me. You’ll be loving me in a minute,” she smiles a wide toothy grin, returning to her phone as I roll my eyes.

The car ride to the hotspot was a rather brief one at the expense of Avery living not too far out from the city, where all the popular clubs of the area were based. Fans and tourists began to congest the streets, jumping in eagerness upon witnessing the immense luxury vehicle arrive. Nearly everyone had their phones glued to their hands, ready to snap pictures and record videos of the birthday girl’s emergence.

The chauffeur was the first to exit the vehicle, unlocking the car door to the right, where I was seated, in order for Avery to crawl out behind me to create suspense.

The door opens as warm air noticeably invades the rather brisk draft in the vehicle, and I step out causing a majority of the crowd to hoot and holler due to their familiarity with me. I politely wave and smile at everyone, still not accustomed to the vast amount of attention I’d received.

The screams of elation and adoration are nothing less than amplified when Avery appears, beaming from one ear to the other. She walks closer to the gathering, leaving them with hugs and kisses in thank you for their support. Meanwhile, I gave my best attempt in avoiding eye contact with the mob, as the bright lights from their cameras made it difficult for my eyes to focus.

“Thank you for the birthday wishes, everyone,” Avery yelled for everyone to be able to hear, blowing kisses to the rest of the crowd who she didn’t have the opportunity to meet with.

It was a mystery how this many people, who didn’t receive a formal invitation, discovered the location of Avery’s celebration, seeing as it was never disclosed on social media by either of us. Or anyone on the invite list, for that matter.

Avery always believed I was only teasing when I theorized that her supporters would excel being undercover detectives based on just how instantaneously they were able to piece things together, but maybe now she’d start actually believing it herself.

I tapped Avery lightly, signaling to her that it was time for us to go inside. She says her final goodbyes to the sea of people outside, locking her arm through mine, the both of us striding inside the already electric building.

[Eddie’s POV]

Gareth, my close friend, and I sat at the bar of the nightclub our publicist, Avery, invited us to, to celebrate her highly anticipated birthday. We, more so I, had ordered drinks to loosen ourselves up considering how apprehensive we normally became attending parties. If I was being utterly transparent, I’d admit that I was only accompanying Gareth along with the rest of Corroded Coffin, simply to meet Avery’s close friend, [Y/N].

Never was I capable of deciphering my infatuation with her, but that’s exactly what was drawing me closer to her. Her mystery, her nature, her mannerisms, her attitude, her body, was a drug in disguise and each time that I looked at or even thought about her, I became more addicted. And the only rehabilitation was to get my first dose.

I was aware of how improper it was to feel such emotions towards someone that I’d never formally met, but like I said, I’m incapable of controlling or explaining it.

The sound of thunderous applause and shouts make it difficult for my thoughts to not be disrupted, somewhat making me displeased, but that was abruptly reformed into ample pleasure at the sight of her. My brain configured an illusion of everyone and everything in the room becoming blurry but keeping her so distinct, so clear.

The way her hips moved with every step she took. The way her clothes clung onto her silky, glowing skin. Even the way she slightly bit her lip as she smiled. Everything about her was so enticing.

My forearm jerked forward at the contact of Gareth’s elbow nudging mine, attaining my attention. Quickly glancing at him, then at the rest of the applauding attendees, I follow suit and cheer Avery on, but keeping my eyes fixed on [Y/N]. She shyly smiled and waved at those who took the time to acknowledge her, letting Avery consume the spotlight.

As she began closing the distance between us, greeting those around her, her eyes met my brown ones before I felt a rush of heat proliferate within me. She seemed to have been staggered upon noticing my presence, but my subconscious gave the impression to be ignorant to it, as I sensed the tension in my body heighten.

She looked frantic as she stumbled her way back to Avery’s side, agitatedly whispering in her ear about what seemed to be my attendance. Her fingers moved analogous to that she was playing a piano that wasn’t there, a nervous tendency I’d observed she had. Avery scanned her eyes across the herd of people in my proximity until her pupils landed on me before a smirk crept onto her face in satisfaction.

She messaged me earlier, nearly begging me to attend the party, to which I denied on multiple occasions. Upon putting full thought on the subject, I inquired about [Y/N]’s possible appearance, deciding that I’d only go if she would as well. And already, before the night has even had the chance to begin, I was enjoying myself.

“You’ve got to stop looking at her like that, Eddie,” Gareth commented, shaking his head, almost disappointedly at me. I softly chuckled at him and took another swig of the beer in the glass cup before replying. “Looking at her like what?”

He returns my questions with a knowing look, “Like you want to eat her.”

“I kinda do.”

[Y/N]’s POV]

A sudden wave of uneasiness washes over me, as butterflies in my stomach began to flutter about, upon my eyes meeting his own. Only Avery knew of my slight obsession with him and taking into consideration just how much Eddie was reluctant to attend parties, I conspired that this had to have been Avery’s doing. I stumbled my way over to her side, pulling her closer to me to avoid bystanders possibly eavesdropping.

“Avery, why is Eddie Munson here? And more importantly, why didn’t you tell me about it? You said none of your clients were gonna be here,” I whispered, agitatedly.

Her eyes scanned through the cluster of people in our area, until they landed on Eddie, a smirk crawling its way onto her face. My fingers wiggle about, as it was a nervous mannerism of mine before I used them to poke Avery to get her to stop drawing Eddie’s attention our way, though I seemed to be doing that all on my own. Through the corner of my eye, I noticed his attentiveness shift to his bandmate who’d begun conversing with him.

“Oh, come on, don’t act mad. You’ve been practically obsessed with him for so long now. Even before he became one of my clients. This may seem bad to you, but trust me, this is a blessing in disguise. Actually, it isn’t in disguise at all, I mean do you see him? That man is so pretty. You better get him before I do,” Avery teased, taking a sip of whatever drink it was she had in her cup.

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve dressed way better,” I said, wistfully, lowering my eyes to my feet.

“Girl, you look amazing. With you looking like that, he’ll be all over you tonight,” she winked at me before her eyes grew wide. “Alright, be cool. He’s coming over here.”

“Bitch, what,” I whispered forcefully as full-fledged panic invaded my body, running from my head down to my painted toes. Smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on my pants, I let out a short breath, giving Avery a nervous smile, turning to meet Eddie.

Words escape my brain as I nearly bump into him, drunk partygoers’ uncoordinated stumbling along to the loud music nudging our bodies closer together. His warm, glossy brown eyes bore into mine, eyelids low from what I presume is caused by marijuana and alcohol intoxication. His wild curly hair drapes over his shoulders, perfectly framing his face as he stares at me, lips slightly parted. Fiddling with the bulky silver rings consuming his fingers, which I soon become distracted by, he flashes a smile, extending a friendly hand.

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” his calloused fingers softly scratch against mine as he shakes my hand. “You must be [Y/N].” I furrow my eyebrows, perplexed as to how he knew my name and general existence. I was more than aware of the fact that Eddie had a dislike for social media and had no known public accounts; information that I later thanked Avery for acquiring. Unless Avery had been in Eddie’s ear acting as my wing-woman, there really was no other explanation as to how he knew of me.

Looking back at Avery tight-lipped, knowing that my theory of her attempting to play cupid was not just merely suspicions but instead reality, she shrugs, smiling before taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah,” I awkwardly smile, dusting my hands off on my clothes.

Normally, conversation came easily to me. Rarely did I ever find myself speechless. But with Eddie standing inches away from me, wavy bangs curtaining his eyes, red leather jacket thrown over a white shirt that left his happy trail exposed, and a prodigious belt holding up tight black pants that left little to the imagination, it was practically impossible to conjure up a coherent sentence.

My eyes trail from his doe eyes to the short stubble growing on his chin, down to the pearl necklace clasped firmly around his slender neck along with several other lower hanging silver necklaces, one that held a black guitar pick with white lettering, ‘CC’. Corroded Coffin, I presume. There, a conversation starter. “You play for Corroded Coffin, right?”

“Yeah, for my whole life basically. Feels like yesterday we were playing for our middle school talent show. I play lead guitar, sing a few of our songs,” he smiles, crossing his arms across his chest. I know, trust me I know is what I’m desperate to say. I definitely was not ignorant of Eddie or his talents.

“I’ve heard some of you guys’ music before. Good stuff. Great stuff,” I blink, evading eye contact as if Eddie was Medusa himself. Truthfully, that’s who he might as well be. The moment my eyes meet his, I’ll freeze, forgetting how to function, essentially turning into stone.

From what the corner of my eye is able to make out, Eddie’s features only brighten at my compliment, yelling over the music, “Thanks, I didn’t take you for a metalhead.”

“Oh, yeah. You know. Big fan,” I mentally slap my forehead, wanting needing nothing more than to be put out of my misery. God, could I be more awkward? I need a drink. ASAP.

My body is now at the mercy of the crowd, the tempo of the music increasing, causing everyone to pick up their pace as well, shoving whoever wasn’t dancing out of the way. A visible look of frustration and discomfort contorts my face, the dead middle of the dance floor being my least favorite spot at parties.

“Hey, do you wanna come meet the guys? It’s a little quieter in our section,” Eddie points over to the lounge area, recognizing my distress at the position I found myself in. I peer over my shoulder towards Avery who I notice has wandered off to greet some of her guests. Closing my eyes, I muster up the courage to accept his offer before turning to face him again.

“Sure.”

He smiles contentedly, extending his hand once again, though this time, it’s not for me to shake. It’s to hold as he navigates us through the busy crowd. Though I hesitate at first only because I know my hands are sweaty, I lay my hand in his own. It’s a warm and firm grip, a safe and almost familiar feeling, like a good hug on a bad day. Sweaty bodies crash into ours as we cut through the mob, the sight of the lounge looking like a haven in this chaotic atmosphere.

“Boys, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N] meet Gareth our drummer, Jeff, electric guitarist, and Grant, he plays electric bass,” Eddie points them out, leading me up the stairs to the seating area, security guards lining the perimeter.

Politely waving at the men who were either busy rolling blunts or sipping their drinks, I smile, mildly starstruck, “Hi. I was telling Eddie I’m a fan of you guys’ music.”

Mumbles of gratitude are barely heard over the thumping music but nonetheless well received. Already nervous with Eddie’s presence alone, I was predominantly satisfied that his bandmates were too intoxicated to conduct a conversation themselves.

Perching on the black, plush sectional couch, I cross my legs as Eddie plops himself down next to me, our knees slightly grazing each other.

[Eddie’s POV]

The bare skin of my knee peeking out from my ripped jeans kisses the soft velvet material of the flared pants perfectly hugging her legs. The accidental touch somehow creates more tension in my body, if that were even possible. Clouds of smoke from the multiple joints going in rotation fill the air, blurring her features as the vapor crawls its way in our direction, causing me to slightly frown.

I wave a hand, banishing the smoke from near her before speaking, “Sorry about that. My bandmates seem to forget their manners when we’re out.” A disapproving side eye is all I throw their way prior to diverting my gaze back to her as she lets out a small laugh. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips relieved that my uncouth friends weren’t a bother to her. Running my hands over my knees, I watch the lights from the oscillating ceiling lamps ghost over her, illuminating her delicate skin.

She surveyed the party, eyes smiling from her cheeks once she spotted her friend dancing wildly near the bar where I previously sat. Her long eyelashes fanned her cheeks with each slow blink she made, pupils lit brighter than any light in the room. While watching Avery enjoy herself, her plump, glossed lips were caught in a wide, unfaltering smile that made my chest tight. She was truly beautiful.

Catching myself staring at her, shamelessly indulging in her unfair beauty, I quickly lick my lips upon finding that they’ve run dry. “She talks about you a lot, you know. Avery,” I nod my head back in her direction, keeping my eyes fixed on [Y/N].

“Yeah?” she questions, shifting her warm gaze back to me; a gaze so warm it makes me melt. I furrow my eyebrows, grinning, “Hell yeah! She’s like a proud mom showin’ off her kids’ art projects. Has pictures of you two in her office and everything.”

[Y/N] glances down at her feet, a shy yet amused expression pulling at her visage. “Does that surprise you?”

"No,” she responds, shaking her head hurriedly. “I mean, I guess it doesn’t. We’ve been friends for what feels like forever. We’re sisters, basically, attached at the hip.” I chuckle, recalling Avery saying something very similar to that in the text messages she sent earlier.

She’s my sister, Munson. If you mess this up, that’ll be the end of you.

Sitting so close to [Y/N] now, listening to her talk, breathing in her fruity perfume that purified the air every time she made the slightest movement, I’ll do everything in my power to not mess this up. I’ll be damned if I do.

“Do you have someone like that?” she asks, carefully adjusting her body to properly face me. Following suit, I rest my elbow on the back of the couch, anchoring my leg in the space between us, clasping my fingers. “Uh,” I begin, poking my cheek with my tongue, beginning to laugh.

“There’s this kid, met him in high school. Total butthead,” I chuckle, toying with my rings.

“His name’s Dustin, we played a lot of D&D together. Since I’ve kinda had to move around with the band in recent years and he’s in his second year of college, we haven’t been able to hang out like we used to. But I always joke that he’s basically my kid. He actually called me a few nights ago asking me and the guys to come perform at his school.”

Listening attentively, she raises her eyebrows, “Yeah? Are you gonna do it?”

“I actually told him no, just to mess with him,” I joke, earning a laugh from her, the sound filling my ears and body with great fervor. Cute laugh. “But yeah, I’m definitely gonna do it, try to surprise him or somethin’.”

“That’s great,” she smiles. “Sounds like you two are close. It must be hard not being able to be with some of your friends and having to tour constantly, but I’m sure there are upsides.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Ever since I picked up a guitar for the first time, I knew that just playing music every night in front of thousands of people was what I wanted to do,” I reply happily, finally being able to talk about my passion and those who were important to me with someone I was interested in.

Being in the limelight, it was too easy to get used to groupies and opportunists who weren’t truly interested in who I was as a person. All it ever felt like was what pleasure could I bring to them. What they could take advantage of. How they could manipulate me. [Y/N] was the breath of fresh air I’ve been craving in this polluted Hollywood lifestyle.

“Now your dream's a reality,” she reassures.

“That it is. Now tell me about you; I heard you’re a fashion designer,” I poke at her arm, beaming down at her. Her cheeks flush as she breaks eye contact, pulling at the fabric of her clothes.

“I’d hardly call it that. I just make and sell clothes for whoever’s crazy enough to buy them,” she chuckles shyly. Stray hairs find asylum against the skin of her cheek, and I have to fight the urge to tuck them away. They almost distract me before she continues.

“It took me forever just to make Avery and I’s outfits for tonight. Had it been someone else asking me to design it, I probably would have given up. Donatella Versace, Christian Dior- they are fashion designers. And I am not them.” A rather serious expression calls for my face to distort.

“Hey, go easy. Comparing yourself to people has never worked out well for anyone. I haven’t known you for more than an hour but I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I mean, the proof is there,” I point at her. “If you’re serious about making the outfits, you did a damn good job.”

“Yeah?” she smiles.

“Definitely. I mean, I dig the all red. You look like a little Hellfire demon,” I bite my lip, surprising myself with how loud I was talking, as Grant and Jeff laugh knowingly.

However, [Y/N] remained adorably clueless, “What’s Hellfire?”

“Eh, another story for another day. But I’m serious. I might have to hire you to design some of our threads for our gigs coming up. Lord knows these fashionistas need your help,” I laugh, mumbling the last bit to her, causing the sweetest giggle to pass her lips. Cute laugh.

“Cute laugh,” my brain thinks, and my lips speak all at once. The filter between thought and actual verbalization had come crashing down in that very moment, unapologetically.

I curse myself mentally, afraid that she’d think I was being too forward, though I’d be in no position to blame her if she did. Much to my surprise, like earlier, her smile is unfaltering as she responds, “You think so?”

I return that same smile, nodding, eyes squinted in delight, “Cute everything.”

[Y/N’s POV]

Just like that, I’m sure my face is as red, if not, even redder than a tomato. Eddie was not at all what I thought he’d be.

With him being a well-known rockstar whose popularity was only increasing by the minute, I had no reservations he’d be an egotistical nightmare, expecting everything and everyone to fall at his feet. Surprisingly he’s done nothing but be agonizingly sweet and a perfect gentleman, adding to his attractiveness.

Constantly dealing with arrogant people who were famous, or worse, thought they were famous, had led to some degree of emotional damage. Eddie was refreshing.

“Thanks,” I hum, trapping a small part of my bottom lip between my teeth, once again avoiding eye contact at all costs. The little bit of courage I’d built up over the course of our conversation crumbled at his compliment, words ultimately escaping me though many thoughts were circulating in my mind haphazardly.

I’m again at his mercy, silently begging him to stop being so alluring but also needing him to continue doing just that.

Before I realize I’m sitting silently, deep in thought, Eddie chimes in, “You doin’ alright there, princess?”

God. Why’d you have to say that?

Princess. I could practically feel my features soften at the term of endearment, the name sounding so heavenly and warm falling from Eddie’s lips. I shamelessly yearn to hear him say it again.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m glad you like the red.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice you chose to go as a devil tonight,” he smirks, eyes scanning over my body. “Didn’t take you as anything other than angelic.” I’m not sure if it’s a pickup line, but it does a well enough job of sparking the tiniest bit of bravery in me. “I’m full of surprises,” returning his smirk, I gesture to his clothes.

“But I see you have on red and white.”

“Oh, would you look at that,” he teases, lifting the sides of his jacket, examining his attire. The action lures my eyes to fixate on his toned stomach, the white shirt that appeared to be cut with a pair of scissors hid much of his chest but little of his lower torso.

Eddie wasn’t ripped, as he played guitar for a living. He didn’t have a six-pack or a chiseled ‘v’ line, but his stomach was rather firm and tight, sprinkled with small tattoos.

“Can’t be both an angel and a devil,” I resume.

“No?”

“Nope. So, which one are you?” I implore, crossing my arms. He leans in impossibly closer, his breath, an aroma of beer and spearmint, fans the shell of my ear, “You’ll just have to find out, won't you?” He returns his head to its original position, sending a devilish grin my way, precious dimples making the loveliest indentations on his face.

With my lips fallen open, goosebumps erupt along my arms and neck at his suggestive comment. He seems to take notice of the way my body reacts to cheekiness; the charming smirk plastered on his face triggers the butterflies in my stomach. Was Eddie Munson flirting with me? Or is he this flirtatious with everyone he came in contact with?

Deep in the unruly mob, I spot Avery shoving through drunk and high individuals, some being both, gravitating towards the bar presumably to get herself another shot of her favorite liquor. A light bulb goes off in my mind.

“I’m gonna take a shot with the birthday girl. Do you want anything from the bar?” I ask, uncrossing my legs.

“I should be the one buying you drinks, don't you think? Chivalry isn’t quite dead yet,” Eddie retorts, leaning over in his seat to reach the glass table before us. He grabs rolling papers along with a grinder for his weed, beginning to roll himself a spliff.

Rising from the couch, I laugh, beginning to descend the stairs leading to the main level, “Like I said, full of surprises. Besides I get free drinks tonight, being the birthday girl’s best friend and all.”

Elbows resting on his knees, he hides the tip of the joint between his lips before igniting the other end with a chrome vintage lighter, seemingly engraved with his initials. It’s an effortless yet immensely captivating action, his eyebrows pulled together as he takes a slow pull. It takes everything in me to defeat the temptation to throw myself at him.

“Well, aren't you a lucky girl,” he exhales, a trail of smoke escaping his lips.

“So, what do you say? Drink? No drink?”

“Nah, I’m alright, sweetheart. Don’t be gone too long,” he jokes, dusting off the building-up ash on his joint. Out of courtesy, he passes it to Jeff who blindly accepts.

“Why? You gonna miss me?” I smirk, heels landing on the final step before strolling to where the alcohol resides. “Somethin’ like that,” he mutters under his breath, though Gareth hears this, snickering at how smitten his bandmate was.

“Let me get a double shot of tequila,” I hear Avery yell over the bassy dance music thumping through the speakers. The bartender gives her a stiff nod, placing a large shot glass in front of her.

“Make that two shots,” I add, sitting down next to her as she turns to face me. Her eyes grow wide as she anticipates all the gossip I have to offer. She looks over to where Eddie is sat, though she quickly diverts her eyes back to me, to which I assume is due to him already looking in our direction.

I open my mouth, ready to unload everything that’s been said between me and Eddie during the time that’s elapsed. She stops me momentarily, however, picking up the tequila-harboring glasses that the bartender left for our indulgence.

Throwing my head back, the alcohol burns the back of my throat to which I make a face as I’m not that much of a drinker. Avery on the other hand, takes the shot like a pro, barely flinching as she swallows, “Alright, hit me.”

“Where do I begin?” I sigh, smiling nervously, “I mean, I don’t know, he seems sweet. Definitely not an asshole like some guys I’ve met, that’s for sure. I just can’t tell if he’s flirting with me because he likes me or if he’s flirting because that’s how he makes conversation.”

“Well, he doesn’t flirt with me. I can tell you that much,” she counters, raising a hand, signaling for another drink.

“That’s different, you’re his publicist,” I frown, swinging my legs that dangled from the stool I was perched on. The people I found myself dating in the past few months were either draining or deceitful, some a distasteful mixture of both and then some. I couldn’t imagine that a famous rockstar with the world at his fingertips was interested in me.

Letting out a lingering sigh, Avery slides another shot my way, some alcohol flying out the glass and crashing onto the wood. She places both of her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze.

I know she’s reading my mind, so easily being able to tell that insecurities were invading my brain, stopping me from going after something I wanted. “Listen, I’ve been in every setting imaginable with that guy, okay? And I’ve never seen him smile as much as he has while talking with you. He likes you. You like him. Now take that shot and let’s go dance.”

Her sentiment draws my lips into a smile. She was truly my cheerleader whenever I needed the motivation. Furrowing my brows, I down my second shot, the warmth scattering through my chest. “Go dance? Shouldn’t I get back to Eddie?” I ask, silently thanking the bartender as I stand up.

“You’ll reunite with your man soon, don’t worry. He’s been staring at you since you got over here. Let’s give him a show, yeah?” she smirks devilishly, wiping the dripping liquor from her pigmented lips. Catching her drift, I nod, grabbing her hand as I walk us to the dance floor.

At the sight of Avery, people make room for us to migrate freely, as we find a comfortable, open spot to park ourselves and begin grooving to the music. Letting go of Avery’s hand, I move my head, slowly starting to feel the music. The warmth in my chest from the consecutive shots loosens my body, elevating my confidence.

Though I tended to be a wallflower at parties, dancing with my best friend, liquid courage flowing through me, and oh-so-enticing Eddie Munson eyeing me, I’ve never felt more inclined to become possessed by the rhythm.

The beat flows down into my shoulders as they begin to subconsciously move side to side, my hips following suit. I close my eyes, completely wallowing in the melody of the song blaring through the amplifiers.

Give him a show. Avery’s words loiter in my head as I run my hands along my sides until they’re in the air, minds of their own. My body sways smoothly similar to a snake slithering its way to its prey. In this moment, Eddie Munson was my prey.

I spin around, carefully, as I’m tipsy and in five-inch heels. Believe me, I would’ve chosen better shoes had I known that I’d be in this position, dancing my little heart out. Bodies collide with mine as everyone’s movements become wilder, the song transitioning to one of a higher pace.

My hips compliment the music, rocking steadily before I feel someone else’s hip press against mine. I don’t even have to turn around before I know who it is; the satisfied look on Avery's face and the feeling of long, soft hair pressing against my skin serves as a good enough clue.

“Miss me already?” my hips don’t stop moving, if anything, their movements deepen, grinding against him.

“Hi angel,” he responds, the scent of the weed he just smoked staining his clothes. His hands rest just above my waist, testing the waters. Feeling the music too, he follows my rhythm swaying behind me.

“No, I’m a devil, remember? See,” I point to my ensemble. “Hellfire demon,” I recall, giggling.

He chuckles, amused, as his hands lower. I feel something firm prodding at the curve of my backside, the tightness of Eddie’s jeans not doing much to conceal his arousal. “You are right about one thing. You, little missy, are full of surprises.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he nods slowly, resting his head on my shoulder, craning his neck to look into my eyes, weakening my knees. Though the lighting in the club is borderline nonexistent, Eddie’s eyes were close enough to mine that I could see his pupils were blown, eyes dark with desire.

“You got any surprises for me?” I turn around to face him, immediately missing the way his hips felt against mine. Wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling his hair blanket my hands, he bites his lip, grinning before speaking. “A few.”

“Show me,” the smile on my face drops, the need to be alone with him becoming overwhelming. The alcohol running through my veins did nothing to steady my increasing heart rate. The heat that was once in my chest traveled down between my thighs, as the arousal that Eddie was experiencing was more than reciprocated.

Instead of a verbal response, his hands trail up my arm to my hand as he grasps it, pulling me to where the bathrooms were. I look back at Avery to alert her that I’d be gone for a bit, though she’s already well aware, giving me a thumbs up and sending me a wink.

The hallways leading to the bathroom are lit brighter than any other area in the club, causing me to squint my eyes, trying to adjust to the light. The floors are a shiny, coal-black tile with walls of the same color, covered with intricate designs and patterns.

“Shit,” he pauses, hitting a fork in the road.

“What?”

“Which one should we go in?” he asks, gesturing between the men’s and women’s bathrooms, stumped. Rolling my eyes and letting out a small chuckle, I push open the door to the women’s bathroom, expecting that it’s cleaner than the men's bathroom, which was almost always the case in any public establishment.

Eddie follows closely behind me, shoving the door shut subsequently. His sneakers squeak against the tile floor as he hurriedly grips my waist, hoisting me onto the edge of the sink. It’s wet to the touch from people drunkenly washing their hands not too long ago, but I’m too captivated in the scene moment care. Flinging my arms around Eddie’s neck, ready to crash my lips against his own, he pulls away faintly.

“Wait. Are you sure you wanna do this? I know you had a bit to drink,” he mentions, resting his hands on either side of me. His forehead is almost pressed against mine as my thumb strokes at the nape of his neck, at which his eyes flutter closed.

Beaming up at him, I sweep his hair out of his face and over his shoulder. He allows my hand to linger on his cheek as I speak, “I promise, I’m okay. I’m a little tipsy, but I swear I want this. I want you.”

I have for a while now is what my mouth wants to add as some sort of cherry on top, but not even the tequila or the heat of the moment could pull that out of me.

I didn’t want to admit to Eddie that the thought of him had been wandering in my mind since I’d randomly come across his music about a few years ago. He had to deal with overzealous, obsessive fans on a regular basis and I didn't want to give him the impression that I was no different from them.

“Do you wanna do this?” I whisper, lightly scratching at his scalp under my fingertips. He breathes out before fully allowing his forehead to fall onto mine.

He finally opens his eyes, the gates of his eyelids slowly unveiling the tender and sultry pool of chocolate brown. “Of course, I do, I just wanna make sure you really want this,” he sighs as I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Eyes lowering, I notice Eddie’s lips are chapped. Not the kind of chapped that was uninviting and distasteful. The kind of chapped that was endearing; the kind that made me want to do nothing more than to wet them with my own.

“I do,” I mumble against his mouth hurriedly, before drawing his head towards mine, our lips colliding. Eddie doesn’t hesitate, attacking my puckered lips with his ravenous ones. His head moves wildly, repeatedly switching sides to devour my lips from all angles, almost making it hard to keep up with him. My fingers get tangled in his jungle of hair while his tongue begins to nudge at mine.

As our hands begin to mindlessly explore each other’s chests and stomachs, quiet moans escape our throats. My heels dig further into the back of Eddie’s thighs as his warm hands settle onto my neck, lightly squeezing.

A deep groan rumbles from his chest at my hand snaking down his body, fingers dangerously lingering by his belt buckle. Much to my dismay, his lips abandon mine that are still starved, however, my disappointment is short-lived, as he peppers kisses along my cheek, venturing down to my neck. “You wanna know somethin’?” he mutters onto my skin, hand nor lips leaving the pulsing area.

“What?” I sigh, as he begins gently tugging at the skin with his teeth, wrapping his lips around it shortly after. “You were turning me on so much dancing out there like that,” he answers, voice low.

He kisses me again, this time with slow and calculated movements. His lips are still eager as are mine, but his actions are more sensual this time. More passionate. I take the risk, lowering my fingers to his growing erection if it could even grow any more-- how big it was. Responding just the way I wanted him to, he moans into my mouth, slightly grinding his hips into my hand. “Yeah?” I whisper, breathlessly.

“Mhm,” he hums, slowly nodding his head while running his hands up and down my legs, kindling small shocks through me. His touch was so simple but so intimate, paying attention to every curve and crevice that made up my body. The beautiful sounds of pleasure leaving his glossy lips egg me on, encouraging me to speed up the work my hand was giving him. “Turning me on so much now,” he finishes, dropping his head back in rapture.

Like a moth to a flame, I take advantage of the opportunity to sprinkle both small, soft pecks and heated, open-mouth kisses along one of the many prominent veins decorating his neck. His body reacts instinctively, as he groans, beginning to trace along the waistband of my pants. As if his body was a magnet, my hips chase him at the ticklish sensation, begging for some sort of relief.

Feeling his erection throbbing in his jeans, my hands yank at his belt unapprovingly. I give his neck a break from my lips only to look down at his waist, desperately trying to free him from the constraints. His nose bumps mine harshly when he chases my lips, slipping his tongue into my mouth.

Undoing the latch, he gets bored of walking the tightrope of my waistband, ultimately hooking his fingers over my pants, pulling them down to my ankles and over my heels. Goosebumps disrupt the smoothness of my skin as the crisp air filling the bathroom settles onto my bare legs. His belt falls with a soft clank, my discarded pants being a cushion for its soft landing.

He smirks, amused at my black lace underwear, running a curious finger along the slit of my heat. It’s such a gentle, almost ghost-like touch that I would’ve missed had I not been intently watching him the way I was now. Unbuttoning and lowering the zipper to his pants, I grab him by one of the many loops along the waist of his pants, forcing his hips against mine.

Tightening my legs that clung together just below his torso, I grind my pelvis onto his erection, begging for some sort of friction.

“Such a dirty fucking girl,” he smiles, hands blanketing my ass, guiding my hips that were shamelessly helping me relieve the tension I felt in my body. My moans are hard to suppress as his eyes don’t leave mine, mumbling quiet coaxes.

“God, I can feel how wet you are,” he groans, “need to taste you, princess.” After I whisper a soft “please”, he stops my hips in place, ridding my needy core of my underwear, nearly tearing the flimsy fabric.

Freeing himself from the restraints of my legs, he kneels down, eyes meeting the place I needed him most. He wraps his strong arms around my thighs, throwing them over his shoulders. I can feel his hair tickling my inner thighs as he bites his lips hungrily, adjusting himself between my legs.

My fingers find his scalp and tug lightly on the roots of his tresses when he starts planting quick pecks around my heat, teasing me. “I love how wet you are for me. Can’t wait to taste that pretty fucking pussy,” he smiles, eyes never leaving my sex. He wets his lips one more time until his eyes rest on mine, licking a solid stripe along the slit of my entrance.

Pulling harder at his hair at the sudden sensation, I let out a loud moan as my eyes screwed shut. His tongue easily finds my clit, gently teasing and sucking at the small bud. With the way he squeezes tighter on my thighs, securing me in place, I’m sure bruises are to be left behind. I don’t mind though as I knew it would serve as a visual reminder of the way he could make me feel with only his tongue.

As his movements against my clit begin to quicken, my thighs begin shaking and my moans are nothing but intensified. In any other given situation, I’d be more cautious of bystanders who had to listen to my sounds of pleasure, but with the breathtaking feeling of Eddie’s wet tongue devouring all of my most sensitive spots, it was incredibly hard to think straight.

He pushes my legs back against my chest wanting to get a better angle at me. He nearly dedicates his entire face to pleasuring my core, nose poking at my clit, while his lips and tongue flick at my pussy. The only part of his face he leaves for my eyes to feast upon are his brown-turned-black lust-filled pupils. I yearn to keep our eyes connected but it's damn near impossible with the feeling of a knot building up in my stomach.

“That feel good princess?” I nod my head urgently, feeling the vibrations from his speaking tickling my clit. I want to speak so that he could hear just how good he was making me feel, but I figure my moans could suffice. He smirks once I whine at his lips leaving my wetness.

His fingers replace where his mouth once was, rubbing slow circles along my clit, watching my face morph back into one of complete ecstasy. He trails his digits down to my hole, slipping them in without warning.

As my thighs squeeze around his head as he repeatedly hits my G-spot with curled fingers, pushing me further to the edge. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie are the only words my lips are able to utter. His rings are cold but gradually warming up as he fucks me deep with his fingers. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he snickers, upon feeling my walls clenching around his fingers.

“Yes, yes. Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” I beg, sensing the amount of pleasure I'm able to take being at its peak. He watches me intently as he slows his fingers down, leisurely dragging them from out of me. Frustrated, I drop my head back against the mirror, letting out a heavy sigh. I let go of his hair as he rises from the tiled ground, smiling apologetically, yet, mischievously at me.

“I know, baby, I know. But I promise,” he kneads my thighs, pressing his lips onto mine, letting me taste myself on his lips. “I’m gonna take such good care of you,” he finishes, bringing his arousal-soaked fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean.

Momentarily, my eyes fixate on the bathroom door that was carelessly unlocked, not much of a barrier between this impromptu dalliance and the unsuspecting clubgoers just a few feet away. Had it not been for the thumping music blaring from the speakers, people within a mile radius would have been able to detect my needy whimpers.

I’m not too Eddie-drunk for it to click in my head that a person of Eddie’s status being caught in a moment like this could instantly be plastered on the internet and every news blog. If it were just me and some random guy, anyone would just turn heel and carry on, but Eddie being who he was, it wasn’t immediately obvious whether to take the risk or not. “Someone could see us,” I point with a limp finger, body still weak from being on the verge of release.

Content with just how easy it was to practically ruin me with only his mouth and fingers, he grins before uttering, “I know. I don’t care. If I have to be seen like this, I wanna be seen like this with you.”

A rush of heat goes to my cheeks at his words that seem genuine. I was accustomed to guys saying whatever they believed I wanted to hear just to get something they wanted out of me. But there was something so different about Eddie. His eyes glimmered with a golden light of sincerity and awe that even the darkest parts of my cynical heart couldn’t help but be illuminated by.

“I can stop if you really-”

Hooking my arm around his neck, I pull his head down to press my puckered lips against his own that were still mid-sentence. He couldn’t be more alluring like this. Being the perfect gentleman, easing the worries floating in my head, and treating me so well, was just the icing on the cake that was his personality and looks. Right now, the one thing on my mind was to treat him just as good.

My hands rush to push his pants down and over his erection, leaving merely his ankles to be clothed by the black denim. His print is so obvious, so taunting that it leads me to palm his hard-on through his deliciously tight boxers, moaning into our passionate kiss as I feel how big he is.

His cock twitches at my fingers grazing over the covered skin of his tip which also lures a hearty groan out of Eddie’s lips. A dull cloud passes Eddie’s pupils as the golden light previously lighting up his eye dims, and he becomes blinded by a dark hue of lust.

His arms work to rid themselves of his form-fitting leather jacket, letting it to the floor thoughtlessly, his shirt follows soon after. Hiking up my small crop top, his hands waste no time in cupping my breasts, perfectly squeezing and massaging its flesh. An amused expression befalls my flushed face at the way his moans and grunts of pleasure fall so heavily from his lips as my hand steadily rubs long, slow strokes at his length.

“Oh, you like teasing me, huh?”

Letting out a small laugh, I nod, responding, “Yeah.” His mouth latching onto one of my nipples interrupts me, my breath hitching in my throat at the sudden contact. “Turns me on s-so much hearing you moan like that,” I manage to choke out while two of his fingers toy with my lonely nipple that couldn’t yet feel the wonders of his tongue.

“Yeah?” he takes my hands, placing them over my head and against the mirror, using his free hand to tug his boxers down. He groans, cock no longer being restricted by his underwear, and it's only then I notice the precum threatening to spill from his tip. It requires an immense amount of self-control to not reach down and spread it over the smoothness of his tip and shaft, but I manage.

“I want you so bad, princess. Fuck,” he mumbles, taking a hold of himself to tap against my clit. My entrance begins to throb as if it could sense Eddie was near, so close to stretching me in all the best ways. “You want my cock to fill up your slutty little pussy?”

I shake my head a desperate yes, whimpering. Snaking my legs around his waist in hopes of pulling him right into me, he clicks his tongue, tilting his head disapprovingly. “I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to hear you say it. Tell me you want my cock to stretch you so good until you can’t think of anything except me and what my cock is doin’ to you,” he drawls slipping only his tip inside of me, but just as fast as it enters, is just how fast it’s gone again.

He does this repeatedly as he patiently waits for my mind and lips to conjure something up.

With the way the snarky grin tugging on his lips was unwavering, I could tell he got a rise out of teasing me. There was a way his voice deepened when he spoke such untamed things. A way his usual pleasant expression turned to that of a stoic one. It was such a stark difference from what I’d seen of his normal personality. This side of Eddie was just another side I was more than excited to explore and indulge in.

“Please, Eddie. I want you s-so bad. Want your cock inside me. Please, I wanna cum all over that cock. Pl-”

My mouth is still rambling, begging Eddie for some degree of relief before the words soon melt into loud whines of satisfaction at Eddie finally slipping into me fully, in all his length and girth glory. Eddie’s mouth falls open as his breath catches in his throat, feeling his cock slide in with ease. He traps his tongue in between his teeth hoping to conceal his moans but that ultimately fails him as I clench around him, inviting him in.

Groaning, he rests his forehead against mine, never letting his eyes depart from mine that were struggling to stay open. He sighs, shaking his head before breathing out, “God, you’re so fucking wet, I just slip right in. Such a good little whore for me.”

I let out a moan, though I’m not sure whether it was from his words or the slow, yet hard thrusts he was giving me. Nonetheless, it felt too good to keep quiet. Eddie takes his time with his movements, unhurriedly dragging his length out of my warmth before slamming his pelvis back into mine. It was toe-curling.

Above me, Eddie was babbling a string of curse words, tattoo-adorned chest heaving.

Each drive made his muscles flex, evoking the pads of my fingers to trace his freckled skin. Beads of sweat began to build a film on our skin, but as we kept bumping and rubbing and caressing, it grew difficult to tell whether it was my sweat or his making my skin slick.

He traps one of my nipples between his teeth, delicately nibbling and sucking on the sensitive bud. I cup his head firmly against my chest as my vision blurs, eyelids sailing down. He curled his hips up in a way that made it too easy for him to hit my G-spot with every stroke.

Echoes of our moans and eager bodies recklessly colliding were the only sounds I could hear anymore. Up in the heaven of bliss, anything that wasn’t Eddie faded into the void of my subconscious, seizing to exist. There was nothing outside of this moment.

Eddie grips the side of my cheek, thumb pressed on the soft skin under my eye, peppering kisses on the bone of my jaw. As he nears the lobe of my ear, lips nudging my earrings, he stutters yes yes yes yes, plunging achingly deeper. Whimpers and mewls spill uncontrollably at the feeling of him stretching me so wide and deep.

“You take my cock so well, baby,” he sighs, words scattered by his restless motions. “Such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, fuck, fu-, fuck yes, yes, Eddie yes,” words stumble gracelessly past my lips as I become a dumb moaning mess on Eddie’s cock. His toasty hand exposes my cheek to the chillness of the air, as his fingers take the liberty of rubbing my clit. He uses two, maybe three (who cares it felt good all the same), of his digits to massage my core soothingly; a pace that was a wild contrast to the pace his hips were going.

The mixture of pleasures makes the knot in my stomach unbearable as I grew desperate for a release.

Doing my best to roll my hips against his, hoping to meet his thrusts, he looks at me smirking, well aware of what I was trying to do. “’M gonna cum soon. Please let me cum,” I plead, eyebrows furrowing. Eddie dives in for a kiss, lips salty with perspiration.

“Yeah? You wanna cum, princess? You wanna cum all over my dick?” he asks, using both hands to grip my sides, slamming into me.

Yes, yes. Please let me cum, Eddie.

His glossy cock, drenched in my arousal throbbed and twitched as it brushed perfectly against my walls faithfully. He looked down at where our bodies connected, loving the way we made a mess out of each other. My arms wrap around his neck to pull him unavailingly nearer. Gripping the flesh of my ass and thighs, he lifts me slightly off the sink, rocking my hips along the length of his shaft, humping into me simultaneously.

My moans turn into short gasps as I feel my descent into a pool of euphoria nearing. “That feels so fucking good. That feels so fuckin’ good,” I whine, running my nails across his back. With Eddie's hands sprawling my body, I became fully consumed by him. There was nothing that I could touch except Eddie, smell except Eddie, see, hear, and taste except Eddie.

“Yeah?” he asks, voice wobbling. “God, you’re such a good fucking girl. Gonna cum so deep inside you. You deserve it, princess,” he rambles, palming one of my breasts as he uses his other hand to keep me steady once I regain control of my hips. We’re absolutely feral as our bodies grind and slam against each other, pathetically needy.

Feeling my orgasm approach, I tighten around him, sleek walls squeezing him impossibly tighter. Eddie’s thrusts grow increasingly impatient, if that were even possible, as his strokes become shorter and less calculated. His body stutters and contracts from what I presume is his nearing release.

“That pussy’s so wet and so tight for me. Fuck. I want you to cum. I need you to cum. Cum for me, baby,” he moans, fighting off his orgasm so he could watch mine, undistracted by his own. He gets a few more strokes in before my thighs start shaking, piercing moans flying out of my mouth.

Fuck, Eddie. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonn- I’m cumming. Don’t stop. Fuck. It’s all just word vomit at this point. The only form of punctuation was my moans.

“No, I won’t stop, baby. You’re doing so good for me. Cumming all over my cock so fucking pretty like that,” he replies, head falling into the crook of my neck. I feel like I’m floating as I start getting light-headed, riding out my peak. My mind’s foggy. The knot in my stomach is fully pulled undone much to Eddie’s amusement, as he kisses my neck, humming.

His body becomes weak as he feels his climax approaching, “Oh, fuck. You feel so good. Fuck. I’m gonna cum, baby.” He grunts, white ropes of thick, warm cum painting my stomach as he pulls out. Covered in my arousal, his cock is shiny like a trophy, giving a whole new meaning to the term ‘afterglow’. Exclaiming a plethora of swear words, Eddie’s face is drawn into an expression of pure bliss, a wide smile, making him look especially kissable.

He’s breathing heavily as he slips himself back in, the euphoric sensation still lingering in his bones. Keen on devouring another one of his loads, my entrance contracts, as if it was panting hungrily, waiting to swallow him up again. He pulls air between clenched teeth as his sensitive shaft drags in and out, overstimulating the both of us. He’s greedy for another orgasm just as I am.

“Oh, princess, you’re such a good girl for me. Fuck, I wanna cum again.” His thrusts speed up, rock-hard erection poking inside me at all the right spots. Mouth drying from all his rambling, he pants as his mind goes blank.

“I wanna cum again, I wanna cum again, please. Please, please let me cum again,” he whines, greedy for another orgasm. It’s a complete 180 from how he was behaving just a few moments ago. Instead of grunting, he was whimpering. Instead of ramming into me, he was savoring me. Completely relishing at this moment.

Please, please, please, fuck.

His eyes shut as he rambled, begging and whispering the naughtiest things, aching for his second release. All while his head was blocking an overhead lamp, casting a blond light around the perimeter of his mane, similar to that of a halo. I blinked up at him, pupils drinking him in. He looked so angelic like this. So perfect.

Pulling him in by his pearl necklace, I smirk at him, loving the way he sounded begging me to allow him to cum. “So horny you wanna cum twice, huh? You need my pussy that bad?”

“Yes, baby, I need your pussy. I need your pussy so bad. Let me cum again for you, please,” he asks, breath fanning my cheeks. His moans are soft and desperate, only quieting when he frowns at his cock slipping out. The warm and sticky composition of my arousal and cum proved to be better than any brand of lube. His mouth falls open, no sound emitting as he feels his climax approaching quicker than before.

“Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum for me,” I coo, as he pulls himself out, rapidly jerking his cock, a loud wet sound following his every stroke. His entire body reacts, twitching and shaking, as this orgasm is seemingly stronger than the one before. Sweat runs from his forehead, around the wrinkles of his shut eyes, before falling into another droplet of sweat drowning his tattoos.

“Fuccck,” he strains, milking every last drop of cum from his tip. He chokes out a laugh, content. “Shit,” he grunts, eyes tracing my body, stopping at my core that was dripping in his load.

He bites his lower lip, lugging his softening cock across my clit. “You’re so pretty like this. All fucked out and covered in my cum,” he sighs, hand moving down to my hips. He lowers himself down, back on his knees, pushing my legs up so that the face of my thigh met my nipple. “You gonna let me clean you up, baby?”

“Yes, please, Eddie,” I breathe, gripping his hair as his tongue goes to work on my clit. Slurping on the sensitive button, he hums while he tastes his cum mixed with my own, presumably enjoying the elixir. He spreads me open, revealing my leaking core, plunging his tongue into my hole, and curling it when he got deep enough.

His fingers find my clit and play with it, drawing out the most pornographic moans from me. His eyes pierce mine, gawking at the way my body squirmed and reacted so easily to him. He switches gears, using his tongue to lap up my juices while his fingers stir up the remaining wetness in me. I grind my waist to meet with his fingers, which causes the tip of his bulbous nose to be added to the equation.

I whimper at my second climax calling. My body stutters as I clench his fingers. Gathering up his abandoned cum on my stomach, I suck on my fingers fancying in his flavor.

“You’re so good, baby. I love the way moan for me.” His hands caress my body, tugging at my skin. I feel the vibration of the music rattling through my chest though I’m too engulfed in Eddie’s touch to be disturbed by it.

“That’s it, yes. Just like that, baby. Cum for me,” he teases, noticing the way I tensed, and moans amplified. His fingers hit my G-spot perfectly into my orgasm as if they had maps telling them exactly where to go. My hips follow his tongue shamelessly as I ride the wave out, not wanting the feeling to end quite yet. My breasts quivering as I try to catch my breath, Eddie smiles bright and wide, lips glossy and swollen.

“You did so good, princess, holy fuck,” he grins, planting his wet mouth on mine, letting me taste myself on him. I smile drowsily, mind empty yet so full of Eddie, “You too. I really liked that.”

“Yeah?” he asks, picking up my pants and underwear, helping me get them back on, and breathing heavily. “I’m glad you did.”

He smiles down at me, hair a wild mess thanks to my fingers constantly exploring it, sweat, and the natural high of sex, giving Eddie a look of pure satisfaction. I pull my clothes over me, afraid of the possibility of some drunk person stumbling in, though just a few seconds ago, that was the least of my worries.

Looping the belt back into his pants as he threw them over his legs, Eddie slows his movements, an inner debate playing out in his head. “I meant what I said, you know.”

My legs shake as I lower myself back onto the ground, knees wobbling like an infant learning how to walk for the first time. Redirecting the strands of my hair back into their rightful place, I glance over at him. “About?”

“About wanting to be seen with you. After hanging out with you tonight, and you know, doing what we just did,” he laughs quickly, gesturing to the sink, before continuing, “I really like you, [Y/N].”

I can’t help but smile at his shyness. He hides himself in his hair, distracting his hands by shrugging on his jacket, though I know with the way he was sweating, there was no chance he was cold. It baffled me how a person who exuded so much confidence in everything he did, got so timid around little old me. “I really like you too, Eddie,” I state, reaching to grab his hand.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” I giggle.

A sigh of relief and a hand squeeze is what I get in return before he says, “Let me take you on a date, then. A real one. Please.” Is this even real life? It made me frown seeing how unsure of himself he was when he asked.

“I’d love to,” I press my lips against his, kissing any lingering doubts away. He smiles into the kiss, taking a hold of my head between his two hands. It’s such a warm, comforting embrace. I could drift off to another land much more safe and happier, just like this. He places a peck on the tip of my nose as we separate.

“Come on, let’s go dance,” I laugh, pulling him towards the door. “After you, m’lady,” he chuckles, opening the door for me. A perfect gentleman.

We saunter down the hallway, the sound of the music unmuffling as we rejoin the celebration. I do my best to not obviously look like I just experienced two of my best orgasms ever. It was easy enough, though I knew had traces of Eddie still lingering on the skin of my tummy somewhere my eyes couldn’t see.

I catch a glimpse of Avery at her favorite spot: the bar. Tapping Eddie’s shoulder, I let him know I’ll be back in a second, leaving him on the dancefloor as I make a path through the crowd toward my partner in crime.

“Howdy,” I smile, widely. Avery clocks it immediately.

“How was it?” she smirks, tapping her nails on the wood of the edge of her bar stool. Pretending to zip my lips with an imaginary zipper, she slaps my leg playfully, though she already knows keeping things from her was something I wasn’t capable of doing. She was my sister. Of course, I had to tell her.

“I’ll tell you when we leave outta here,” I promise, calming her nosy nerves. “Oh, one thing that did come up though,” I begin. She perks up like a dog who just heard a noise.

“What?”

“Apparently, you have pictures of us all over your office,” I smirk. The color in her skin runs pale as she realizes she’s been caught. There’s been a running gag between us that we didn’t like each other as much as we let on. Though we both knew that wasn’t true and that we’d most likely end up staying in each other's lives until the end of time, it still was hilarious to tease each other.

“Wanna tell me what that’s about?”

She scans the crowd to find Eddie, scowling once she spots his conspicuous hair in the crowd. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.”

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chubbycelebs · 11 months

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Harry’s Chubby Boyfriend Louis

Harry was quickly becoming a household name. Now with three sold out albums and constantly touring the world, the man was at the top of his game. Harry hadn’t taken a break since the end of the 2020 lockdowns. Constantly on your, doing press, releasing music and videos all the time. However in the occasional free time he had, he has rekindled an old friendship with Louis Tomlinson.

The two boys had a past back in the band but decided to move past that and become close once again. The two met at a new year’s party back in 2021. When midnight struck the two shared a kiss and many other things later that night. Over the course of 2022 Harry was still a very busy man but he now had his boyfriend Louis to be busy with as well. The two enjoyed everything about each other and could hardly leave each others sights.

With the half way point of 2023 now coming up, Harry decided to wrap up his tour and music and take a long, well deserved break from it all and spend time with his boyfriend. Whilst Harry has been busy with tour though, Louis has been quite the opposite. He hasn’t been busy with anything. He's been sat around waiting for his boyfriend to return from his shows. All this sitting around lead to Louis becoming very bored so to fill that time he would cook and eat. He would try new recipes and different cooking techniques to see which was the best. He had to admit he had gotten very good at cooking now with all the free time. However the down side was he didn’t have anyone to feed his amazing meals to as Harry was always busy. So Louis would spend evenings stuffing his face with the food he’d spend hours cooking. All this eating of amazing foods had left a dent on Louis waist.

On one of Harry’s very few afternoons off, him and Louis decided to go mini golfing. It was nice day and it was something they both had wanted to do for a while. When Louis was having his go, Harry stepped back and watched his boyfriend. Harry hadn’t really paid much attention to Louis body recently but he finally noticed something was different.

Harry could now see that Louis had gotten a chubby belly. A nice round plump belly that picked outwards quite a bit. His thighs and ass had also gotten much bigger Harry had noticed. But he didn’t mind it. In fact Harry liked how the extra weight sat on Louis. The roundness of his belly resembled that of his round arse which he very much enjoyed. Louis turned back at Harry and shouted “HOLE IN ONE!” snapped Harry out of his belly trance. “I won Harry I won” Louis taunted jabbing Harry in the chest.

“Alright alright whatever. Let’s go get some food then winner” Hardy replied giving Louis ass a firm victory slap. It was, indeed, much softer and much bigger than it used to be. Harry felt a twitch in his trousers at the thought of his fatter ass. Harry and Louis sat down at a fast food restaurant just down the road hoping to enjoy a meal before Harry’s show that evening. The owner of the place ran up to their table. “Oh Harry Styles it’s an honour to have you come here. You can have anything you want anything it’s on us.” Harry sat and thought for a while. He doesn’t usually eat big before a concert however the thought of his boyfriends jelly belly shot to his mind. “I’ll take two of everything then please for me and my boyfriend here”. Louis looked at him shocked with how much food he just ordered. “I thought you didn’t usually eat much before a concert?” Louis said confused.

“I guess i’m just feeling hungry today babes. All that golf built up an appetite”

Harry grinned as trays after trays came to his table filled with food. Both of the boys dug straight into the food. After about 15 minutes Harry looked up at Louis. “Louis, I wanna stop touring soon and spend the next year just with you”

Louis looked up from his food, mouth covered in sauce and started smiling. “Really Harry? I would love that so much” Louis was so happy he leaned over the table and kissed Harry.

“I can’t wait to spend so much more time with you.” Harry said taking his final bite of his burger. “Also I think my eyes were bigger than my belly. I’m stuffed. Do you mind finishing the rest off for me Lou?” Harry said patting his abs.

Louis didn’t even reply he just kept eating and eating. No longer than 15 minutes later both trays were cleared. Louis lent back and stretched upwards groaning at how full he was. Harry looked as he saw Louis shirt ride up past his belly button. Harry felt the same twitch in his trousers and he knew in that moment he loved Louis bigger jiggly body

With Harry now ending his tour and putting a pause on his music, he had all the time in the world for his big boyfriend now. On their first night together Louis decided to cook Harry one of his best dishes: a massive roast dinner followed with a triple chocolate cake. Louis was so excited to be able to cook for his boyfriend finally and no longer having to eat several portions of food in one night.

Louis had noticed his own weight gain and at first he was ashamed of it. Dating one of the hottest men in the world and he was some chubby no one however that day at mini golf Louis couldn’t help but notice Harry staring at his full belly. He wasn’t sure if anything until Harry made Louis stuff his belly with tones of food at the fast food place. As Louis was eating he noticed how excited Harry was at his expanding belly. Seeing how excited Harry got with his plump body, Louis decided to keep the belly but maybe slow down a bit with the eating.

Louis dished up the roast and made sure to pile high Harry’s plate as to make sure he gets to enjoy every aspect of his cooking. He put down both Harry’s and his plate and sat down across from Harry. “I hope you enjoy. I’ve put a lot of time into this!”

The two boys then sat in silence as they both tucked into their meal. Louis had become quite a quick eater so was done before Harry. Louis looked over at the table, arms crossed over his belly and saw Harry shovelling fork fuller of food into his mouth, groaning with pleasure at how amazing it tasted. When he finished his plate he looked over at Louis. “Babe that was absolutely amazing. Best meal i’ve ever had. But are there any left overs? it’s soo good I just need more!” Louis was shocked by this. He’s never seen his boyfriend eat so much in his life. Harry’s second plate was almost as big as his first. Louis was shocked but also enjoyed seeing Harry love his food. It was so much better having someone enjoy your food then just stuffing your self with your own food.

When Harry had polished off his second plate , he lent back and patted his bloated belly. “Oh god that was amazing babes so good but i’m stuffed now. Might go lie down for a bit” Harry said trying to get up from his chair.

“Oh but babe what about dessert? I’ve spend ages on this cake i couldn’t wanting it going to waste now” Harry looked over at the triple chocolate cake. It was oozing with chocolate and looked amazing but his belly was so full. But what harm could it be if he had a slice? He hasn’t got anywhere to be over the next few days he’ll be fine.

Harry and Louis polished off their slices both now full, Harry more full now than he’d ever been in his life. He collapsed onto his bed and immediately passed out. Louis decided to take a shower before bed and as he entered into the bedroom noticed his bloated boyfriend passed out on the bed. Louis went over and patted Harry on his exposed belly to wake him up. Harry reluctantly got up and changed and then passed out straight away again. Louis got into bed next to him and couldn’t help but get turned on at the sight of his bloated boyfriend. He looked so full and round and that was all Louis doing. He had made his boyfriend like this and that got him excited.

Over the next few months Louis kept on cooking amazing meals and Harry kept eating them without a fuss. Louis noticed how Harry could eat more and more every week putting away more food than he’d ever seen him do before. To accommodate this Louis made bigger portions of food to keep up with his boyfriends growing appetite. Along with Louis cooking, Harry also kept trying to feed Louis at every moment he could. When they were having sex Harry would ask if he could feed Louis left over cakes and pies. As Louis would ride Harry, he would stuff Louis face with cakes and pastries and pies bloating his already round soft belly. Safe to say they had the best sex whenever he did this. After about a six month break from performing, Harry arranged a one night special performance in New York. He was excited to get back on stage and it was such an exciting night. Harry loved being on stage again and seeing all the fans scream for him and enjoy all his music. Harry was very happy with his performance until the next day where he saw photos of it.

All the photos of last nights show showcased Harry with a belly. But he hasn’t eaten anything before so it was a bloated gut. Harry ran to the bathroom and ripped his shirt off and was shocked to see where his abs once were was now a soft gut. Harry played with it out of shock. Squishing and patting his belly even rubbing it seeing if it would vanish but nothing. His once strong pecs jiggle when he played with it and when he turned around he noticed how his ass had gotten flabby too. Harry was in shock. He was one of the hottest men on the planet and now he was just some chubby lard arse. Louis walked into the bathroom to see Harry hunched over the sink looking saddened. “Are you okay babes?” He asked approaching his boyfriend.

“No! Look at me!” Harry said standing up right shaking his belly. “I’m some fat loser now.” He gave his belly a hit which left it jiggling for much longer than he would like to admit. Louis looked at his boyfriend as he collapsed onto the toilet, his belly turning into rolls. Louis decided the best way to make him feel better was show him someone he thinks is hot and fat. Louis took off his top and trousers and stood in front of Harry. Harry looked up and saw Louis, his belly much bigger than it was back when they played golf. His legs thicker and his neck started to join with his chins. “Why are you naked?”

“Am i hot?” Louis asked

“What do you mean? Of course you are babes. The sexist man i know!”

“Even with all this?” Louis then grabbed his belly and shook it. Grabbed his thighs and started slapping them showing just how big he’d gotten.

“Yes Louis. I like all of that. You look handsome and big” Harry said standing up from the toilet.

“Well then. You look handsome and big and sexy with your belly and tits and big ass” Louis said grabbing his boyfriends belly.

Harry looked down Louis body and saw how turned on he was. This made Harry relax more and he even got hard not long after. Harry stepped forward and pressed his and Louis belly together. “I like you fat Lou. I like you big.”

“I like you big Harry too. But i want you bigger. I want you to catch me up”

“I’ll do it Lou. I’ll eat whatever you want me to and more. I’ll be as big as you want”

Louis then pulled Harry to the bedroom and started passionately making out. Just as Harry was starting to put his cock in Louis, Louis stopped him. “I’ll be back” he said running off. He came back with a huge cake. “You can only fuck me once you’ve eaten every last bit of this cake” Harry agreed and the two had the piggiest and best sex ever.

Harry continued to do the odd tour here and there still wearing his same clothes he’d always worn just now with his big belly added. He enjoyed every second being stage parading around with his big gut hanging out.

Some fans disapproved of the fatter Harry and some actually stopped being his fans whilst others loved it and went crazy for when he jumped around on stage seeing his belly jiggle and moobs shake. But non of that mattered. He was truly happy being stuffed and fed by his sexy big boyfriend Louis. He enjoyed it so much that announced that he was retiring from music.

Now fatter then ever Harry couldn’t wait to grow even bigger with his boyfriend. The two had a large fattening life ahead of them and they couldn’t wait to grow into it

Decided to write another story inspired by a request. I really loved making this one. Editing all the photos together to go to the story was so much fun so i hope you guys enjoy this one as much as i did!

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caycaysdiamond · 10 months

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Lovepotioned? Not! (2)

Request for Anon: "Lovepotioned? Not! was such a fun read! :D Can I request a version for Jade and Azul if you have the time? Hope you have a wonderful day!

these are two people i would never want to spread a rumor about especially concerning their s/o? do people at nrc have a death wish ?!? also sorry for the delay anon ,,,2023 ain't been my year fr🙏🏽 this has been sitting in the drafts for a LONG time so I wanted to get it out to you! I'll probably still work on Jade's part eventually too, it's just been a long year but :))!! I hope you still like this T 0 T

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto Established relationship, rumored hypnosis/non-consensual relationship, non-prefect reader, lovesick reader, and lovesick boys.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul's name was never outside of the rumor mill of Night Raven College; the students, teachers, staff, ghosts, and even the portraits knew of the Octovinelle house warden's notoriety. Though his rumors never swirled around the tongues of anyone for very long, of course, the Leech twins had a certain method of silencing those who would defame Azul.

Well...all but one rumor.

"Azul Ashengrotto used a love potion to make Reader fall in love with him."

To the population of NRC, well, it made sense! Azul was already known to only do things that benefited him, after all.

He's cold, calculating, sly.

But would Azul really need to use a love potion? The rumor quickly turned into, "Azul used a contract to trap Reader in a relationship with him."

Plausible? No, but it's not like anyone but Azul, Jade, Floyd, and Reader knew that.

It didn't help that you were so doting on your beloved, Azul. Constantly singing his praise, supporting him, the lounge, and you even helped him with a few contracts occasionally. It was so odd to everyone, the well-beloved Scarabia native Reader, who's usually so calm and poised themselves in mere moments can turn a simp!

Yes, that rumor could be the only reason Azul could imagine that the crimson eyes of his fellow house warden bore into his side. It was unnerving, surely someone else would have noticed too right? No one else seemed to notice though—or maybe, no one else seemed to care.

Did everyone else in the room have the same thought? Azul was a monster who manipulated his lover?

Uncomfortable was something Azul rarely was.

Riddle's words were drowned out, he was going over something important, Azul thought but all that he could focus on was the feeling of his red eyes. Unconsciously, Azul turned his head slightly and then finally noticed it. The smile that usually graced the other face was gone, and the warmth and friendliness of his usual demeanor was ice cold.

"Thank you, Rosehearts," a more mature voice, rang out, "I think this housewarden's meeting can come to a close now. Aren't I quite benevolent? Ending the meeting early!" Crowley laughed as he stood to leave the room.

"You only ended the meeting a minute early," Leona groaned, walking behind the headmaster.

Azul stood up and started gathering his notes, he had to go. Now. Before Kalim asked him to stay and talk, he thought but a bit too late.

Kalim's hand reached over and halted Azul's movements, "Azul, can we talk...now?"

Azul couldn't answer but it seems everyone else who lingered in the room could as they made themselves scarce quickly.

"I've been wanting to talk to you since before the meeting but I got here kinda late, sorry!" Kalim laughed and moved his hand away, "Sit, sit back down!"

Azul did as told, stiffly. He made eye contact with Kalim once again and released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

The warmth of the other house warden could be felt once again so what was all that earlier, Azul was puzzled.

Was Kalim focusing so hard on the fact that he wanted to speak with Azul that he just...became whatever that was?

Azul shook his head, that didn't matter, "What is it, Kalim? I must say we don't talk often but I think we should. Housewarden to house warden, sophomore to sophomore."

Kalim wasn't someone to be nervous around and quickly, Azul's persona was back up.

"You have a point," Kalim smiled, "but that's not why I wanted to talk to you today."

"Oh?" Azul feigned ignorance, "Then please enlighten me, what's on your mind?"

"It's Reader!" Kalim sighed, "I heard a nasty rumor from some other students. They think you used a love potion on them or manipulated them with your contracts. I just want to know that you didn't!"

Kalim paused before speaking again, his eyes glimmered with an emotion Azul couldn't quite perceive, " Reader and I are close friends I wouldn't want you to hurt them. Regardless of that, they're a part of Scarbia, what kind of house warden would I be if I didn't make sure everyone in my dorm was okay?"

Oh.

Sincerity. Kindness. Love.

That's what Kalim's eye held.

Azul cleared his throat and honesty, poured out. Pure honesty, nonsugar coated, and less velvety than his usual jargon. That is what your best friend deserved.

"Those rumors about Reader and I are completely false. I would never do that to them. Love potions and contracts? It seems I'm more hated than I thought. Reader is...the only person whom I ever loved in this way. I couldn't, no, wouldn't ever manipulate them in any way."

Kalim nodded, "That's what I thought but I had to hear it from you!"

Azul chucked, "You trust me that much? I'm not a good person, Kalim."

"I trust you and I trust Reader," Kalim explained, "I think you're a good person. The way Reader talks about you can't be faked, at least I don't think so."

Kalim stood up and stretched, "I'll see you later, Azul!"

Azul stayed seated long after Kalim left the room. Alone, was a time of reflection and a time to think about you.

"A good person, huh?"

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst imagines #azul ashengrotto #twst fluff #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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intimacyequalsdeath · 4 months

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Bubz's 12 Days of Ficmas: Day 12 Christmas Eve (Otis Driftwood)

Here we are! The final day of Ficmas 2023!. I hope you all have a Merry Christmas, Happy holidays or if you don't celebrate anything have an amazing next couple days <3

Notes: Minors DNI, SFW, Fluffy, No specific descriptions or pronouns used for reader.

The firefly house was abuzz with the energy and festivities from the impending holiday. The fireflies loved Halloween sure, but since her babies were kids Mama firefly had also wanted to ensure that no matter what her babies had the most "normal" Christmas they could manage.

Even a family of psychopathic murderers deserved to have magical moments during the holidays, she had once said when Spaulding had bitched about going and getting a tree.

You were in the kitchen helping mama make some of the Christmas dinner dishes early so the workload for tomorrow would be a lot less. Mama adored you from the moment Otis had found you and brought you home. You were easily enveloped into the family dynamic were just as much one of her babies as everyone else was.

"Sweetie can you go get Otis to go get me more firewood? We're supposed to get a freeze tonight and I wanna be sure we have enough in case the pipes go"

"Yeah mama"

You replied with a smile before wiping off your hands and heading upstairs to the room you shared with Otis. Hoping to just find him there and that he wasn't already out.

"Otis? you in there?"

You called coming to a halt outside the door. Even though it was your bedroom too, you had learned very quickly to always let Otis know you were coming in. You had made the mistake of not letting him know just once, and he ended up nearly taking your head off.

"Yeah"

You heard him grumble from the other side of the door. Otis never had liked Christmas, no matter how hard Mama tried to keep everyone included in the Christmas spirit. It was always too cheery for him.

You opened the door to the bedroom and poked your head in. You noticed him sitting on the side of the shared bed and fiddling with some sort of wood that was for a future project.

"Mama wants you to go and get some more firewood. There's gonna be a freeze tonight and she wants to make sure we have backup in case any of the pipes bust"

Otis sighed and looked up at you from what he was working on.

"I mean hey out of all the Christmas stuff, going to get firewood is like the least Christmas thing you could do. Would you rather help baby finish decorating?"

His eyes widened and then he rolled them at you.

"Very funny, C'mon"

He said motioning for you to follow him as he got up. You followed him down the stairs and out of the house. If he had to collect firewood you were going to at least help him do so.

"Ya know it would make Mama real happy if you at least, tried to act happy during the holidays"

"Yeah and it would make me happy to get left the fuck alone. But that's not gonna happen is it?"

He simply said with not a hint of attitude in his voice. You gave him a small smile as the two of you approached the wood pile.

"Well it's just she tries so hard to make this a happy time for everyone, it wouldn't hurt you to at least try"

"Christmas just isn't my thing. Never has been, never will be. It's too goddamn happy and bright"

"Not everyday can be Halloween Otis. People gotta be "Happy and bright" sometime during the year"

"Sugar, Halloween makes me perfectly merry and bright"

You gave him a smile as he placed a few pieces on firewood into your arms. Once your arms were full he picked up an armful himself before the two of you began heading back to the house.

"Yeah and Halloween is why we still have that human spine in our fucking bedroom "

Otis laughed at this.

"I didn't have anywhere else to put it sugar"

"Yeah well you didn't have to hang it over our bed as if its tinsel"

"You said you wanted me to decorate our bedroom and make it more "festive" that's exactly what I did"

You rolled your eyes at him.

"You know that's not the type of decorating I meant Otis"

"Well when your with Otis Driftwood, It's the type of decorating you get"

He shot you a big smile as he opened the back door for the two of you to make your way back inside.

"Here's the firewood Mama"

You said rounding the corner to the living room to set it down by the fireplace. The tree Baby decorated was standing tall in the corner of the room adorned with all sorts of mismatch ornaments and garland. Once you set the firewood into the holder by the fireplace you turned to fully take in the tree.

"It looks like Baby just took all the junk out of her room and slapped it on there"

Otis said from behind you, you laughed at his comment.

"Be nice Otis, Baby was up nearly all night decorating this tree"

"That was nice, i could've said it looked like shit"

You smiled and scanned the tree until your eye caught one ornament in particular. The ornament in question was a little picture frame that you could slide a small photo into and hang it on the tree.

The photo that Mama had carefully slid into the small frame ornament was a photo of you and Otis. It was taken a few months after you had been fully accepted as a member of the family by Baby in the kitchen.

Baby had always told you how you somehow managed to melt her brother's cold dead heart and make him actually care about something besides himself but you never fully knew what she meant until she snapped the picture and showed it to you.

There you were, in the middle of Mama's kitchen, making dinner for the family. Otis had his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you stood at the stove as he thought the two of you were the only two around to see it, not knowing Baby was there with the camera.

Most people would argue that a simple cuddle from behind didn't show anything to do with a person changing. But the fireflies would all know that Otis showing any kind of affection at all wasn't something to just scoff at. Otis showing any emotion other then just plain mean to anyone was almost miraculous. When you had announced you and the white haired killer were "going steady" as Mama put it, you could've sworn half the family almost fell out at the prospect that Otis Driftwood had managed to find himself a partner.

"Why do they still have that fuckin picture?"

Otis said from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts while you still gazed at the photo.

"I think it's adorable. It's my favorite picture of us to be honest"

You told him truthfully. You adored the photo and were so happy Mama did too, enough to put it in a little ornament for Christmas.

You heard Otis huff behind you, before one of his lanky arms wrapped itself around your shoulders. You allowed him to bring you into his side as you wrapped your arms around his torso as the two of you stood there in front of the tree.

"I really gave you hell the first few months I was here didn't I?"

Otis snorted

"Yeah you and Baby were one in the same, no wonder the two of you were friends before she even brought you here"

A few beats of silence fell between the two of you before you spoke again.

"Merry Christmas Otis. I love you"

"I love you too...Merry Christmas"

#slasher x reader #slasher fandom #otis driftwood #otis driftwood oneshot #otis driftwood x reader #house of 1000 corpses #3 from hell #12 days of ficmas #ficmas #ficmas23 #ficmas 2023

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helpinghanikan · 6 months

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Star Wars: Kinktober 2023

Day 19: 69 (Poe Dameron)

Kinktober Masterlist

There’s a running joke that Poe needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. He was a great pilot, yes, but he was also a little too passionate. This can result in awkward situations and being voluntold for missions no one wants to do.

That running joke was how you ended up on Poe’s face. Grinding down against his nose as his hands grip your thighs for dear life.

“When you die in space, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.” You say between grunts.

Poe was going to be gone for a long while. As one of the best pilots in the Resistance, this was to be expected. What wasn’t to be expected was the short notice. In less than two hours he would be gone, and you would be alone.

‘let me make it up to you,’ Poe had said with a smile.

His cock strains again the confines of his pants. The tent had been growing since you first pressed your hips against his lips. Poe had most likely intended to cum in his pants like some teenager.

You were annoyed at the situation. But that didn’t mean Poe was a bad boyfriend or anything. And he certainly deserved more than cumming in his pants.

“Mmm…Babe,” Poe moans as you lean forward. Opening the zipper of his pants.

“Shh, we’re not done yet.” You scold, rolling your hips for good measure.

He stays quiet while you gently pull his cock from its cage. Precum and spit in your hand lubricate that gentle stroking you start with. You have to strain a bit to get the tip around your mouth. Poe lifts his hips to help press his cock further into your mouth.

Until this point, Poe was taking his time. Licking through your lower lips, massaging your backside, and nipping at your thighs. Now that he was just as stimulated there was an almost urgency to licking. No longer was there a pattern on your clit, now he was open mouth licking and sucking your pussy. Like a man starved for years, he went to town on your pussy. Desperate to get you off before you could do the same to him.

It’s hard to focus while Poe is going to town like this. His cock is thick and warm in your hand. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth was stroked gently with your spit-covered hand. Taking an alternative route than the ravenous one Poe decided on.

He was getting frustrated with the gentle approach, you could tell. Your tongue doing the work of licking around his tip, moaning loudly, and only barely rolling your hips to meet Poe’s mouth. This had become a contest. Who can get the other off faster, and harder, and leave the other wanting more.

Heat has been subtly growing in your core. Your hips are moving on their own, wanting that release without checking in with the brain first. It’s not long before you’re moaning and groaning around the delicious cock. When the orgasm finally takes over your body you gasp and choke around his cock. Having no choice but to let him go and cough out spit and cum.

Poe is still drowning in pussy when this happens. His hands slide up your sides in comfort. Silently asking if you were okay.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” You say and get back to work.

Poe cum quickly when you take him back into your mouth. His entire body moans as he cums into your mouth. The bitter taste is hard to swallow but it almost feels like a moment of pride that you take him all down.

You’re both panting when you roll off of him. His face is wet from your juices and red from excitement. His hand finds yours, holding it tightly as you lay opposite of each other.

“I’m sorry for leaving,” He says.

“It is what it is. Just, please try and come back.” You ask, the moment mainly ruined by Poe’s apology.

He doesn’t reply to your request. Both of you know that it’s a promise he can’t keep.

#reader insert #star wars imagine #star wars #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #star wars reader insert #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron

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drabbles-mc · 4 months

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Home for the Holidays?

Carmy Berzatto x OC Kalia Mason

For @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo 2023!

Warnings: 18+, language, smoking, pre-canon, light angsty moments

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: i have a whole longfic planned for these two that takes place way after this, but this little piece of their backstory has been bouncing around my head for weeks so i'm glad to finally be able to finish and post it!

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @withmyteeth @darqchilddaydreamz @hausofmamadas @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“No, no, I’m not,” Carmy shook his head as he paced back and forth in the alleyway behind the restaurant, “I’m not having this fuckin’ conversation right now. Mi—no, you’re not listening. You never fuckin’ listen I can’t talk about this right now.”

He pulled an aggressive drag from his cigarette as he listened to Mikey going off on the other end of the line. He’d been so engrossed in his argument that he hadn’t even heard the back door of the restaurant open and shut, didn’t catch the dull sound of heels against the blacktop. Turning around to start pacing back in the opposite direction again, he stopped himself short, mid-headshake, when he saw that Kalia had stepped out back as well. He didn’t say anything as he stared at her, now only halfway tuned into the conversation that he was having with Mikey. His brows separated, easing apart rather than being pinched in exhaustion, but the tension in his jaw still held.

Kalia didn’t say anything to him either. She walked up to him without a word and he handed his cigarette over to her. He watched her bring it to her lips, her actions much smoother and calmer than his had been just a few moments before. She folded one arm across her chest, holding her hand out for him to take the cigarette back. He did, noticing but not commenting on the slight smudge of pale pink left on the filter from what was left of her lipstick by that point in her shift.

The whole exchange only took a handful of seconds, but with how quickly conversations moved with Mikey, or any of the Berzatto’s, it was more than enough time for Carmy to lose his footing in the exchange. He realized that as soon as he dialed back into what Mikey was saying, flinching at the whiplash of it all.

Regardless of how much or how little he’d missed, Mikey had clearly picked up on Carmy’s lack of response and made a comment about it. He was still staring at Kalia when he snapped at his brother and said, “No, I’m not fuckin’ listening because you’re not listening to me either. I, I can’t, I’m not talking about this.” He sighed. “No, I’m not. I’m not. Know what I’m doing? I’m hanging up. I am, I’m hanging up the fuckin’ phone.”

Kalia’s eyes widened at the statement, although she couldn’t pretend that she was overly surprised by it. What was a little more surprising was the fact that he actually followed through. As soon as the last syllable left his lips, Carmy pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call.

He let out a sigh as he shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just tilting his head back and looking up at the sky like it was going to give him some calm, or clarity, even though in all his years it had never done anything of the sort.

Finally, he turned back to Kalia. He took another inhale of his cigarette because saying, “Hey.”

She laughed at the stark difference in pace and tone between his phone conversation and how he was speaking to her. “Hey.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Do you want me to ask about that or just…?”

He couldn’t help but to let out a chuckle when he saw the look on her face as she asked. Light-hearted but not cruelly so. Shaking his head, he finished off his cigarette and dropped it to the ground. “Fuckin’ Mikey.”

She tilted her head. “What’d he say?”

He sighed, leaning back against the wall of the restaurant. “He was asking about Christmas.”

Raising her eyebrows, she just managed a soft, “Oh,” not sure what else to say.

Things had been so new with them the previous Christmas—they had still been in a bit of a limbo. There hadn’t been any expectations, or any real discussions about the holidays. Carmy hadn’t seemed like he wanted to talk about it, so Kalia didn’t waste energy trying to pry. The stakes were different this year, though. She’d been meaning to get around to asking what his plans were, so it seemed like there was no time quite like the present.

“Never calls me any other month of the year to see how I’m doing. But, but sure, yeah, of course. Because he just wants to give me a fuckin’ hard time about it.”

“Are you going home for Christmas?” she asked. It felt like the answer should be obvious but she also knew him well enough to know that acting logically wasn’t always his strong suit. It wasn’t his brother’s either, apparently.

“N—I don’t know. I don’t fuckin’ know,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Do you want to?” she asked. The laugh she let out was more nervous than it was humorous. “Because it doesn’t really seem like you want to.”

He chuckled, unable to stop himself. He knew that she was right, but he also didn’t have the time or the energy to get into all the intricacies of Christmas with the Berzatto’s on their ten-minute smoke break.

“It’s gonna be a fuckin’ mess if I don’t go.” He paused, letting the footage play back of years past. “It’s a fuckin’ mess when I’m there too, though, so who knows.”

She let a few seconds of silence pass before making her offer. “If you don’t want to go, you can always come spend it with my family.” She laughed. “Or if you want a break altogether and want to spend it alone, I get that too.”

He smiled as he stared at her. There was some appeal to the idea of spending Christmas by himself in his tiny apartment. He didn’t even have a tree or a string of lights up—it looked the same way it did the other eleven months of the year. But it would be quiet, calm, things that his childhood home in Chicago never were even on the best day.

He’d only met Kalia’s family once, and he didn’t count it, really, because of the circumstances. He’d just been one face in a sea of many that day. Most of her relatives probably wouldn’t remember that he’d even been there, but Kalia remembered. That was all that really mattered to Carmy anyway. The only other way some of them knew him was based on whatever stories Kalia told them about him, or if he was passing through in the background of a videocall between her and her parents. The notion of going there for the holidays was kind of nice on one hand, but on the other hand it was absolutely terrifying.

Kalia saw him locking up and shutting down in real time. “You don’t have to decide right now,” she said with a laugh. “Just something to keep in mind. An escape route, if you need it.”

His shoulders noticeably relaxed as he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, right. Okay. Thank, thank you.” He cleared his throat as he forced himself off the wall. Gesturing towards the door, he said, “I gotta get back.”

Kalia smiled, nodding. “Go ahead. I still got a couple minutes before I gotta head back in, and,” she rolled her eyes with a laugh, “I’m using every single one of them.”

Carmy smiled and gave her a nod but didn’t say anything else. He walked past her, reaching out and brushing his fingers against hers, letting them catch for half a second as he passed. There was a smile on his face about it until he was back inside the restaurant and the door swung shut behind him.

He purposely ignored the slew of texts and calls from Mikey. He ignored the texts from Nat, too, although there were far less of those. The brunt of her wrath would come when she saw him in person next, whenever that was going to be. Every Christmas he always wanted to blow them off but he hadn’t ever found it in himself to follow through on it. He’d always string together a list of reasons why he had to be there. Always. Plus, if he was honest with himself, he never felt like he had a good enough external reason to bail, something outside of himself. But now it seemed like he did. He’d have to think about it.

It was a few nights later when he let himself into Kalia’s apartment. It wasn’t often that their days off synced up, so they made do by just stopping by the other’s apartment when they had the time, and more importantly the energy, before or after their shifts. It took some doing, but they’d figured it out.

“Hey,” he called out as he toed his shoes off just inside the door. He didn’t hear her respond as he walked towards the kitchen where he could see that the light was on, but he still had the feeling that she was awake. Turning the corner, he started speaking up again. “Lia? You—” he stopped short with a laugh when he got a good look at her.

She was leaning back against the counter right beside the stove with a pot in her hand, separated from her palm by a potholder. She was holding a fork in her other hand, and was currently halfway through eating another forkful of macaroni and cheese.

“Hey,” she mumbled through her mouthful of food as she tried not to send it flying everywhere.

Walking over, Carmy peeked into the pot in her hand. He knew what it was already before he even looked, but he still asked, “What’s going on here?”

She swallowed what was in her mouth so that she could laugh. “Mac ‘n cheese.”

His eyebrows lifted just slightly as a smile stretched across his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Want some?” reaching over, she opened the drawer that housed her silverware and pulled out another fork. “I’ll share.”

He shook his head but still took it. “Sure.”

“I upgraded, you know. No more of the single-serve cups that go in the microwave.”

He laughed as he took a forkful from the pot. “Upgraded to the box?”

“So as not to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

It was a comment that, coming from someone else, he would’ve taken to heart. If it’d been Mikey, or Richie, or anyone back home really, he would’ve snapped back. It would’ve been an argument. But it was hard to jump to being on the defensive with Kalia. It wasn’t that they never argued or got after each other, but she hadn’t ever been the type to make that her default. It was foreign, but it was good.

“Yeah, because everyone knows that boxed Easy-Mac is much, much better than the cups.”

“Obviously,” she said as she gesticulated with her fork.

Carmy smiled, talking through the forkful of macaroni he’d just taken. “Obviously.”

They fell into comfortable silence after that. Part of Carmy wanted to go and shower off the day, wanted to leave his t-shirt and jeans in a heap on the floor of Kalia’s bathroom to be dealt with in the morning, but he couldn’t manage to peel himself away from her. Not even an hour before, he’d had the executive chef breathing down his neck making him want to run into oncoming traffic, but that felt so far away now. Kalia was standing there in her flannel pajama pants and an old t-shirt that had more rips and stains than any shirt or apron Carmy had worn in the kitchen over the years. Her socks were fitting for the time of year, fuzzy, warm, and decorated with snowmen. Her apartment overall was much more festive than Carmy’s was, but that was a low bar. She looked so comfortable. All the time she looked so comfortable, even when shit was hitting the fan. He wondered how she stayed like that all the time. Maybe it was a family thing, because lord knew that him and his family couldn’t stay calm if their lives depended on it.

“Your parents wouldn’t mind if I came for Christmas?” he asked as he tossed his dirty fork into the sink.

Kalia tried not to look too excited, not wanting to get her hopes up too high. “They wouldn’t mind at all. They, you know, they really wanna see you.” She laughed as she scooped the last bit of macaroni onto her fork. “At this point, they probably think I’m keeping you hidden in my basement or something.”

He chuckled, finding a spot beside her leaning back against the counter. “Did you tell them your apartment doesn’t have a basement?”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” There was a pause. “But yeah, if you wanna come with me to my parents’, you can. My car seats at least two.”

“Two plus whatever is living in your back seat,” he replied with a tiny smirk, recalling all the times she simply just tossed whatever was on her passenger seat into the back on the occasions the two of them would go to or from work together.

“You can just walk, you know,” she shot back with a laugh as she moved and set the pot in the sink to soak, too tired and lazy to wash it right in that moment. “Or I can strap you to the roof like a deer.” She walked back over, gently toying with his hair for a moment. “Curls instead of antlers.”

He shook his head, eyes dropping to the floor as he tried not to look as amused as he felt. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at her. “I’ll let you know in a couple days?”

She nodded. “Let me know in a couple days.”

Neither of them brought it up again in the wake of that exchange. The rest of the night went by. Kalia told Carmy the highlights of what had gone on in the dining room during dinner service. Front of house and back of house never had the same brand of chaos and stress going on, but both ends of the house were always kept busy. That was for certain. Carmy listened as he got ready to finally turn in for the night. Kalia was already in bed, sitting with her back against the headboard and blanket pulled over her legs. She had her phone in her hand and Carmy was shuffling around the room but none of it was enough to break the flow of their conversation. Not even when Carmy slid into bed under the covers beside her, blanket draped over him while he had his elbow propped on the pillow on his side of the bed, head resting in his hand as he listened, as they talked.

It wasn’t until two days and three phone calls with his siblings later that Carmy came to a decision. He didn’t know how to start the conversation with Kalia, so instead of getting into all of the reasons why, he just asked, “What should I bring? To your parents’ house, I mean. What should I bring?”

She paused the search for her car keys in her purse when she processed what he’d said. “What should you bring?” she repeated back, smile growing wider with each word. “I don’t…you don’t have to bring anything. You’re bringing me.”

He was watching the sidewalk pass beneath their feet as they walked to her car together. “No, no. I gotta bring something.” He paused, thinking about the types of things people typically brought to gatherings like this. “Wine? There a wine your parents like?”

She shook her head. “My parents don’t drink. No one, um, no one really does when they go to their house, either.”

Carmy raised his eyebrows just slightly. It wasn’t that it was strange that her parents didn’t drink, per se. But he just couldn’t fathom a gathering of his own family with no alcohol involved. He wondered if that would make everything worse.

He realized that he’d been silent for just a few seconds too long for it to be comfortable. “Heard. Right.”

“You don’t have to bring anything,” she emphasized again, “but I’m sure if you wanted to help with prep and stuff my mom would appreciate it. She always,” Kalia rolled her eyes as she unlocked the doors to her car and slid into the driver’s seat, “she always leaves the prep up to my uncle. And he always thinks it’s gonna take way less time than it really does. Which, you know, isn’t a big deal. We just eat a little later—that’s fine. But,” she turned the key in the ignition, “I’m sure he’d love a helping hand, too.”

“What do you guys do?”

“It’s kind of like a hot-pot situation, but not quite. If you see it you’ll get it. Actually,” she laughed as she drove down the road, “we usually do it for New Years but I’m working New Years this year so I convinced them to do it for Christmas instead. It’s like my favorite holiday meal of the year.”

They let the conversation end there, the music from the radio filling the car instead of their own voices. Part of Kalia wanted to ask Carmy what had him making that decision, but she stopped herself. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. And even the things that he did want to talk about, it was rarely something as straight-forward as simply sitting across the table from her and talking about it. It was a lot of off-hand comments and half-stories, a lot of interjecting things into the middle of rants. It was just on everyone else to try and keep up and keep track of it all.

Christmas snuck up on them faster than they realized. Even when they had been discussing plans and logistics, it had felt like some far-off thing. Then, in the blink of an eye, Carmy heard the sound of Kalia letting herself into his apartment on Christmas morning.

“Just me!” she called out as she undid the zipper of her jacket.

Carmy appeared, walking out of his bedroom with a bottle in his hand. “Hey.”

Walking over to him, Kalia couldn’t stop the warm smile that spread across her face. Carmy had on one of his nice sweaters and a fresh, dark pair of jeans. His hair was a little tamer than usual, but not so much that he didn’t look like himself anymore.

Leaning in, she kissed him quickly on the lips. “You look good.”

Carmy looked at her, feeling a little less nervous when he saw how relaxed she seemed. “You too.” Even though her jacket was covering most of it, Carmy still knew what sweater she was wearing—the fuzzy white one that went off both her shoulders.

He was still busy staring at her when she gestured towards the bottle he was holding. “What’s that?”

“Oh,” he held it up so she could read the label, “I just, um, it’s sparkling cider. Is, is that okay? I can leave it if—”

“That’s good,” she stopped him short, nodding and smiling in approval. “They’ll like that.”

His body visibly relaxed at that, shoulders loosening. “Alright, good. Yeah.”

“You need a few more minutes or—”

“I’m good,” he answered her question before she even finished it. “Let me just—my shoes, and, and yeah.”

“Take your time,” she spoke after him as he took off to grab his shoes and jacket.

The drive didn’t take as long as either of them thought it would. It was still enough time for Carmy to reach the brink of driving himself crazy as he sat jittering in the passenger seat. Kalia could only look over at him so many times while she was keeping an eye on the road in front of them, but even in her peripheral she saw him, numerous times, go to reach for the pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and then stop himself. She wanted to tell him that it was okay, that if he wanted to have one she wasn’t going to kick him out of the car. But he knew that already—she knew that he knew that. Instead, she took one hand off the steering wheel and rested it on his leg. It got the bouncing in his foot to stop but then it just shifted upwards and into his fingers that began to drum against the windowsill.

“It’s not, you know, it’s not like it’s some big to-do. It’s just,” she shrugged, “Christmas. We get together and eat food. No crazy heaps of presents of anything.” She turned and looked at him for a brief moment. “We do secret Santa.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yep. We were all broke for a while. Some of us,” she lifted her hand from his leg and pointed at herself, “still kind of are. So it’s just easier that way. Less pressure.”

“Who’d you get?”

“My mom.”

The idea of that happening in his own life was enough to make Carmy’s stomach twist into a knot and it wasn’t even really happening to him. He pushed the feeling down as well as he could. “Wh-what’d you get her?”

“You!” she replied with a laugh. She shook her head. “Kidding. Kind of. But she is so excited to meet you.”

“Shit,” he said without thinking better of it. He froze up as soon as the word came out of his mouth, afraid of what was coming next.

Rather than anger, Kalia just met him with amusement. “She’s not scary. My dad isn’t either, really. My uncle is the one you should probably be worried about.” She paused, switching lanes on the highway. “It was funny, though. The first time I tried to tell her I was dating you, I said I was seeing the chef from the restaurant. And, and I had no idea why she got so mad about it, you know? She didn’t know you.”

“She got mad?”

Kalia could hardly talk through her laughter. “Yeah. Because the last time I talked to her about a chef,” she shook her head, “the chef from the restaurant, I was telling her about your asshole boss.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Now Carmy was laughing too. “She thought you were dating—”

“Yeah,” she cut him off with a laugh and a nod. “So, you know, no matter what you’re going to be better than who she originally thought I’d be bringing home on the holidays.”

“Jesus,” Carmy said as he shook his head, running his hand back through his hair. He had to admit, though, he felt a little better.

When they pulled into the driveway at her parents’ house, Carmy couldn’t stop himself from noticing the other cars in the driveway. Not what type of car or even what color, but just the fact that their driveway was full. He could feel the panic starting to creep back up his spine and out through his limbs. Kalia hadn’t even put her car in park yet and all he was picturing was all the years at his mother’s house, a full driveway, so full that they parked their cars on the sides of the street. The house was even fuller. Every year. So many people and so much noise. So much yelling.

“You ready?” Her voice, once again, pulled him out of his thoughts.

He turned to look at her, nodding although he didn’t know how much he believed it. “Yeah. Um, yeah. I’m, I’m ready. Are you?”

“Come here.” Still buckled in, Kalia leaned over, hand resting on the center console of her car, and kissed him. “They’re going to love you, Carm.”

He let out an unsteady laugh. “Let’s hope.”

Carmy trailed right behind her as she walked up the driveway. He watched her as she knocked on the front door, but that the formality was basically pointless because she was turning the knob with her other hand and pushing it open even as she knocked. She hardly had one foot inside the house and she was calling out, “Hello,” and, “Merry Christmas!” He followed close behind but didn’t say a word, just looking around the house instead.

“Hey!” a man called out as he poked his head out form around a corner. “Look who it is!” He walked over and wrapped Kalia in a tight hug, paying no mind to the knife that he was holding in one hand.

She laughed as she hugged him back. “Careful waving that thing around.”

“Not waving,” he said as he stepped back. Diverting his attention, he looked at Carmy. “You’re the guy, huh?”

Carmy’s eyes went wide, a scared fawn in the headlights. The man’s words didn’t sound threatening or accusatory in any way but Carmy still felt like he was on trial. There was only one correct response to that question and yet he still couldn’t spit it out.

Luckily Kalia stepped in to cover for him. “Can you try that again without the knife in your hand?” she asked with a laugh. Slipping her hand into Carmy’s, she said, “This is Carmy—the guy who is going to make sure we don’t start eating dinner at ten tonight.”

“That only happened once!”

“And I will never let you forget it,” she joked. Looking over at Carmy, she said, “Carm, this is my Uncle Rich.”

“N-nice to meet you,” Carmy said, pulling his hand from Kalia’s so he could shake her uncle’s.

“What’ve we got here?” her uncle asked, breaking off the handshake so he could gesture to the bottle that Carmy was holding in his hand.

Suddenly Carmy was overcome with the urge to throw the thing right back out the front door they’d just walked through. He didn’t want to hand it over, didn’t want to show it, afraid that it was going to be met with ridicule or disdain of some kind.

He fought through it, holding the bottle out to the man in front of him. He somehow managed to keep his hand steady, too. “Just, um, just some sparkling cider. Lia mentioned that you guys don’t really—”

“Alright!” he exclaimed, taking it with the hand that wasn’t holding onto the knife. “Good man.”

Then, like he was letting everyone know that the introduction and conversation was over with, Kalia’s uncle turned on his heel and headed back to the kitchen. When the man rounded the corner back out of sight, Carmy let out a breath that he hadn’t meant to start holding.

“See?” she said as she crouched down to start taking off her shoes. “Not that bad. He’s the…most…out of everyone. You’re gonna be fine.”

Carmy didn’t know how much he believed her, but there was nothing left to do but take her word for it now. He leaned down to unlace his shoes and at that point he knew that he was in it. He was trying to figure out what to say in response to her reassurance when she grabbed his hand and started pulling him deeper into the house.

It couldn’t have felt more different than being home. It couldn’t have felt more different than being around his own family. He’d hardly been able to spit out his own name to Kalia’s parents when he was introducing himself because of all the panic lodged in his throat. There was no way that her mother and father didn’t see it, didn’t hear the strain in his voice. They didn’t say anything, though, didn’t even give him so much as a sideways look about it. They were so kind, gentle even. Carmy knew that he would get around to appreciating that at some point.

He maneuvered his way through an initial round of small talk with the rest of Kalia’s family. He wasn’t graceful about it, and he needed ample assistance from Kalia, but he got through it. It felt foreign and uncomfortable but then he felt the way that Kalia was leaning against him as they all spoke gathered in the living room. Some people were sitting, others standing or half-perched on the arm of the sofa. There were snacks on the coffee table and gift bags under the tree. Music was playing at an appropriate volume and the conversations were loud but they weren’t deafening, weren’t at a volume that would raise anyone’s cortisol levels. It was all lovely and pleasant and yet Carmy had to make a conscious effort to not hold Kalia’s arm in a vice grip.

“Alright.” Her uncle interjected himself into all of the conversations that were happening as he entered the room, a stack of cups in one hand and the bottle of sparkling cider that Carmy had brought in the other. “First round for everyone is on Carmen. Don’t worry,” he jokingly reassured everyone as he passed around cups, “I already tried it—it’s good.”

Carmy could’ve sworn he felt his knees knock together out of nerves—it didn’t matter that everyone seemed perfectly happy and perhaps even excited about it. He felt like he was on trial. He worked through it as he took the cup that Rich handed him, watching him fill it with a generous amount.

“Kali said that you’re my hired help for the night?” he asked as he watched Carmy take a sip.

Carmy nodded, forcing himself to remember not to talk with his mouth full. That was the last thing he needed. “Yeah. I, I’ll even work for free,” he joked and hoped it sounded more confident than it did in his head.

It was passable at least, because Rich laughed as he set the bottle down on the coffee table alongside the rest of everything and motioned for Carmy to follow him. “Dangerous words but come on, then.”

Even though she had been right next to Carmy the entire time and saw everything, he still turned to Kalia and gestured towards her uncle, towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna…” he trailed off, letting the hand gesture finish the sentence for him.

She laughed and nodded. “I heard.” She paused, taking a moment to search his expression. “Want reinforcements?”

He didn’t hesitate to nod. “Maybe. Maybe, yeah,” he answered, laughing despite the nerves.

“Sounds good.”

“What?” Rich said as he watched them both walk towards the kitchen. “Don’t trust me around the kid with a knife in my hand?”

Kaila shook her head as she found a seat on the opposite side of the kitchen island from where the two of them would be prepping everything. “I don’t trust you around anyone with a knife in your hand.”

Carmy was listening to them, sort of, but most of his attention was focused on everything that was laid out on the island in front of him and the other counters in the kitchen. It was chaos, but it was organized chaos. Real organized chaos—not the chaos that Donna spent year after year trying to play off as organized. Even though Carmy had just set foot into the kitchen, he could see the underlying threads of order to it.

“What do you need help with?” Carmy asked, eyes still fixed on the cutting boards in front of him as he started to push up the sleeves of his sweater.

Carmy couldn’t see it, too busy trying to think his way through the next step, but Kalia was across the island from him, smiling. And Rich was standing to the right of him and also smiling. Rich reached behind him and pulled a knife out of the block and handed it over to Carmy. “Dealer’s choice.”

He was about to answer when he took a good look at the knife that was in his hand. “Oh, shit,” he said before he could stop himself. He glanced across at Kalia. “Your parents—”

“Fuck no,” Rich cut him off with a laugh. “I keep these here for me.”

Carmy looked at Kalia for confirmation and she nodded as she sipped on her cider. “It’s true.”

For the first time all night Carmy felt at ease for a moment, as close to calm as he ever really managed to get these days. “Alright. I’ll, uh,” he gestured with his free hand to the cutting board that still had a huge piece of meat that needed to be sliced through, “yeah.”

Rich slid the cutting board so that it was in front of him. “All yours.” He grabbed a fresh cutting board to move onto the next thing. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Carmy got right to work. Instantly zeroed in. He chuckled, waiting for Kalia to look at him. “Gotta bring him every year.”

She laughed and propped her elbows on the edge of the counter. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She sat and watched the two of them work. They were doing their own thing but somehow still in tandem with each other. She had never mentioned it to Carmy, but her uncle had spent most of his twenties and some of his thirties working in a kitchen. Never at the caliber that Carmy was currently operating at, but it wasn’t nothing. She never said anything, but as the minutes ticked by she had the feeling that Carmy could tell. Neither of them spoke about it but they each knew.

There was no ever truly being relaxed for Carmy. However the way he felt in that moment almost felt like he was cooking in the kitchen of his apartment, or Kalia’s. Not the same stakes of cooking at the restaurant, not the suffocating tension of being back in Chicago in his mom’s kitchen, or Mikey’s. He was listening to the way that Kalia and her uncle were chatting, the way that they would rope him into the conversation just enough to keep him included but not so much that he had to stop what he was doing. A precarious balance.

Carmy was listening to the two of them going back and forth about something that had happened at Christmas the year before when he felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his jeans. He quickly wiped his hands on the towel hanging off the edge of the island before pulling his phone out. The world came to a screeching halt around him for a moment as he read his brother’s name on the phone screen. It shouldn’t have been surprising. If anything, the only surprising thing was that it had taken so long for someone back home to call him. His money would’ve been on Natalie.

He must’ve been standing there for longer than he realized, because Kalia spoke up, “Hey, you okay?”

Carmy cleared his throat, nodding as he rejected the call and put the phone back in his pocket. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

She wasn’t convinced, brows coming together for a moment. “You sure? If you need to—”

“I’m good, Lia,” he kept his voice quiet, not forgetting where he was, but firm enough to make it clear that he didn’t want to get into it all because of where he was. “Just Mikey.”

That answer didn’t do anything to quell her concerns. She knew that there was no such thing as just Mikey. She hadn’t ever met Mikey, or anyone in Carmy’s family for that matter, and she knew that there was a reason for that. He didn’t talk much about his siblings or his mother but there were a lot of moments when he managed to say plenty about them without have to speak much at all. Like the look in his eyes when he saw who was calling.

She knew it wasn’t the time to try and talk about it, so she conceded with a nod. “Okay.”

“Wanna grab stuff for the table, Kali?” Rich inserted himself back into the conversation, diverting it to a new direction with ease.

She hopped up from where she was sitting. “Sure thing.” She slipped behind Carmy to grab the bowls from the cupboard, fingers gently trailing over his back as she passed by him.

The kitchen fell silent once more when she walked out. Both Carmy and Rich went back to finishing up the last of the prep. Carmy was holding his breath as he moved the knife, waiting for the man beside him to say something, to start an argument. He wouldn’t have blamed him. He was used to it, anyhow.

Carmy was tense and braced for a cutting remark, thinking that was why Kalia had been kindly invited to leave the room. He heard the man next to him take a breath and he pinned his lips together in a flat line as he got ready to just get through whatever was coming next.

“Grab a couple bowls out of the cabinet behind me?” Rich said, no angry inflection to his voice at all. Carmy didn’t respond right away because he was still waiting for the hammer to drop. The only thing that got him into motion was the fact that Rich turned and actually looked at him. “Just need two more so we can bring these out. Big ones,” he said, gesturing to the last of the food they’d just finished prepping.

Swallowing past the panic, Carmy nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

He turned and went to the cabinet to grab everything. He had a bowl in one hand and just as he was going to grab the other from the shelf, it slipped from his grip and landed on the floor. It wasn’t a terribly far drop but it was enough to cause it to break, fracturing into pieces scattered across the floor.

“Shit, shit,” Carmy began stammering as he set the other bowl back on the shelf before he accidentally dropped that one too. He was too busy letting out a string of fuck’s and so sorry’s to realize that he was the only one who was worked up about what had just happened.

Kalia had heard the sound and spun on her heel immediately to go and make sure that everything was okay. “Hey, all good?”

“Sorry,” Carmy repeated over again as he stood up, a few of the larger pieces of ceramic in his hands. “I, I just, I fuckin’ dropped—” He stopped short, still shaking his head as he placed the pieces in the trash. “I’m sorry.”

Kalia’s heart clenched inside her chest, knowing that his reaction to such a small, fairly common, accident had to do with much more than what had just happened. “Carmen, it’s fine.”

“Yeah,” her uncle piped in, calm as ever as he brought over the broom and dustpan. “No big deal. Hey,” he chuckled, “least we didn’t have any food in it yet.”

Carmy forced out a short chuckle, not quite accepting that he was getting off the hook that easily. “Right.” His hands were all but trembling against his sides as he looked across the kitchen at Kalia. He didn’t want to step out but he also didn’t want to combust in the middle of her parents’ kitchen. He nodded towards the door. “I’m, I think I’m gonna just, real quick.”

She nodded. “You’re good.”

Rich didn’t say anything until he was done sweeping and putting the last few pieces of the shattered bowl into the garbage. By that point Carmy had slipped his shoes back on and stepped out the front door. He looked over at Kalia, silently but with a look on his face that asked the question for him.

“Christmas is hard. F-family is hard.”

He gave a nod of acknowledgement but didn’t say anything else about it. “Seems like a good kid.”

Her face softened into a smile. “He is.”

He pointed towards the door with the handle of the broom. “Go ahead. I’ll set the rest of this up.”

She gave him a quick hug to say thank you before she followed the same path that Carmy had just taken. She was pulling her jacket on over her shoulders as she stepped outside. Carmy was sitting on the front step of her parents’ house, one hand holding a cigarette and the other pressed to his forehead like it was the only thing stopping his head from rolling clean off.

She sat down next to him. Rather than saying anything, she let her leg fall so that it was resting against the side of his. They sat there in silence at first, just staring at the house across the street with it’s countless lights and so many inflatable decorations on the front lawn, the cords for them alone must’ve been a fire hazard.

Carmy offered the cigarette over to her out of reflex, exhaling a stream of smoke as he held his hand out to her. She smiled and took it, going back to looking across the street as she said, “Do you want to call them?”

He shook his head. He watched her bring the smoke to her lips before saying, “No. No, no I don’t think—no.” He paused, clearing his throat in an attempt to dispel his own awkward feelings. “Sorry about the bowl.”

She smiled at him as she handed the cigarette back. “It’s fine. There’s usually one or two fallen soldiers every holiday.”

He nodded, heart rate still spiked. “Right.” He took another drag. “They seem nice—your family.”

“Yeah, they’re alright,” she joked.

“Your uncle calls you Kali.”

She nodded, leaning against his side. “He does.” She tilted her head so that she was looking at him. “What about it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Just, I always—just something I noticed.”

“Well, when my sister was around having Luci and Lia would’ve been, I don’t know, borderline cruel?” she laughed. “So he settled on Kali for me. Besides, my uncle called you a good kid. So we’re both doing alright.” She watched as he smiled for a moment and snubbed out the last of the cigarette. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. S-sorry. About all of that. And this.”

She placed her hand on his leg. “Wanna go eat?”

“Yeah.” He slowly stood up and offered her a hand to help do the same. “Thank you.”

She brushed off the backs of her legs. “Of course. You know—”

They both gave pause when they heard Carmy’s phone going off again. She saw him hesitate before taking it out to see who was calling even though they both already knew. Natalie’s name was lighting up the screen now. Carmy was picturing what his mom’s house was probably like at that point, certainly not as quiet and happy as what was waiting for him on the other side of the door that he was currently standing in front of.

“Do you wanna answer? Talk to them for a minute? I can, you know,” she gestured to the house.

Carmy thought on it until he missed the call. It was only then that he shook his head. “No. No it’s fine.” He shut his phone completely off. “I’ll figure that shit out later.”

There was a brief moment of hesitation but she nodded. “Okay.”

He watched her reach for the door. It took a couple seconds to for him to make his thoughts translate into motion, but once he did, he reached for her hand that wasn’t on the door. He pulled her back just enough to stop her from opening the door. When she turned around to ask him if everything was alright, he pulled her in and pressed a kiss to her lips that quickly turned into a kiss on her cheek as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder, squeezing her tight to him as he shut his eyes for a moment. She returned the embrace, matching his energy with one hand splayed across his back and the other resting on the back of his head.

When he pulled away, some of the tension was gone from his shoulders. Despite the gap between them, his fingers were still tangled with hers. He offered a small, almost embarrassed smile. “Thank you, you know, for, for all this.”

Her smile was wide, bright. Nodding, she leaned in and kissed him quickly on the lips. “You’re always welcome here.”

That was the last that either of them said about it before heading back into the house. As soon as they opened the door they could hear the sounds of bowls being passed around and set down on the table. Everyone was talking and laughing, all of the conversation condensed into one space now.

No one batted an eye when the two of them stepped into the dining room and found their seats at one end of the table. They got pulled right into the conversation like they had been there the entire time. Carmy’s leg bounced lightly underneath the table as he looked at all the food spread out in front of them all.

Managing to get himself out of his head for a moment, he accepted the bowl that was being passed to him. Kalia’s uncle nodded as he handed it over, following it up with a pair of chopsticks. “Know how to use those?” he asked with a laugh.

Carmy chuckled as he nodded, smile coming easier than he thought it would. “I do alright, yeah.”

“Good,” he remarked as he sat back down. Laughter was tinging his voice as he said, “Be a shame if you did all that work and you couldn’t eat any of it.”

“Yeah,” Carmy agreed, laughing along with him, “that’d be rough.”

He was so focused on the sound of everyone laughing and talking that he almost didn’t realize the way that Kalia placed her hand on his leg again. He didn’t notice it until he felt himself stop jittering. He turned to look at her, about to reassure her that he was fine, but she was already wrapped up in a conversation with her cousin. Carmy smiled, putting his hand on top of hers as it rested on his leg. She didn’t miss a beat in her conversation as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He felt a little more of the tension drip out from his shoulders as he settled into his seat, wrapping his head around where he really was.

#storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x oc #carmen berzatto x oc #oc kalia mason #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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sickficideas · 8 months

Text

you're losin' me || skk sickfic

ao3! please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! sicktember 2023, day 1: hopelessly bad at self care

“’s cold,” Chuuya murmurs quietly, slurred together so much that if Dazai hadn’t known him for seven years, he wouldn’t have understood him.

“I know. Just for a little bit,” Dazai says as he fills the pitcher full of water to gently pour over Chuuya’s head again. He’d really like to properly wash his hair. It’s so caked with dust and dirt and blood, but Dazai doesn’t want him under the water for too long, he’s already shivering. So he’d like to at least brush some of it out.

It’s been a few days since he last used Corruption. Dazai’s made it a habit to check on Chuuya in some way or another after times like that, because recently, he hasn’t been tolerating it well, especially when he uses it for extended periods of time. Sometimes he’ll be too sore to move, sometimes he’ll get sick, sometimes it’s a combination of a few things - no matter the case, it wasn’t always like this.

He thinks Chuuya was already coming down with something before that day, so he wasn’t too surprised to find him passed out on his kitchen floor when he arrived at his penthouse just ten minutes ago.

He has a hundred-and-two-point one-degree fever, which paired with the fatigue and exhaustion from using his ability like that has really, really slowed him down. Dazai had to carry him into the shower even after waking him up, with surprisingly no objection from the latter. His complaint of the temperature just now is the first he’s said to him since he arrived. Chuuya always takes quite a while to come to his senses after he’s like this.

Dazai’s first thought was to shower him because of how filthy he was from their mission just the other day, but it seemed that wasn’t it. He’s covered in sweat from the fever, and Dazai’s fairly certain he wet himself at some point too. Normally, he wouldn’t let Chuuya live something like that down, but it’s a concerning thought that he didn’t even have the energy or will to get up and go to the bathroom.

He opts for the showerhead instead to wash his hair out the best he can, hoping the pressure will help clean it up a little. It’s lukewarm water, to help his fever, but he understands it’s probably pretty cold with the chills he’s feeling - and Chuuya normally showers with scalding hot water anyway.

Chuuya groans and pulls his head away once the water from the shower head hits him, and the way his eyes screw shut tells Dazai he’s probably got some sort of head injury, or at the very least, a headache. Maybe both.

“Want me to stop?” Dazai asks, trying to adjust the water pressure a bit so it’s not as harsh, and Chuuya relaxes just a bit.

He’s taken note of how Chuuya’s left shoulder is hanging slightly lower than it should. He’s been so out of it that Dazai hasn’t noticed, but he grabs his upper arm with his free hand and he’s met with a hiss. He’s probably dislocated his shoulder.

“You’re a mess,” Dazai sighs. Chuuya usually isn’t the type to avoid medical treatment. Dazai has his own reasons for doing so, but Chuuya generally takes good care of his health, so he’s not sure what happened here. Maybe that last use of Corruption really took him down. After all, he’s not sure how long he was passed out in his kitchen.

He shut off the water and hands the shower head up. He wants to tell Chuuya what he’s about to do, but he thinks it might be better in the end to just do it and get it over with, and apologize after.

So he does it. He puts him into position against the wall as quickly as he can before Chuuya can catch on, and he yelps from the pain as soon as Dazai hears it pop into place. He’s sure it’s very painful, it’s been a few days since it was dislocated and there’s no way the pain and swelling hasn’t gotten worse since then.

Chuuya leans forward into Dazai, and he's shaking much more than he was before, and Dazai holds him against his chest.

“I’m sorry. You know how bad those can get if you wait too long, Chuuya,” he says quietly. He hates how much he’s shivering. The whimpers of pain hurt him to hear, although he’d never admit it. He’s careful not to jostle his shoulder too much as he holds him.

Truthfully, Dazai hasn’t slept well at all since their mission, because he hasn’t heard a word from Chuuya. Sometimes Chuuya will read Dazai’s messages without responding when he’s feeling petty, but he didn’t even get that.

This morning, when he threw up last night’s dinner from the anxiety, he decided he needed to come check on Chuuya. Kunikida was even concerned enough to send him home right away.

They stay like that for a while before Dazai decides it’s best to get everything over with and get Chuuya to bed so he can rest properly, rather than on his tiled kitchen floor. He washes his hair, his body, all while Chuuya quietly stays leaned against the corner of the shower wall, shivering every now and then, his eyes unfocused and glassy. He doesn’t voice a single complaint the entire time.

Dazai is happy to finally be able to shut off the lukewarm water and towel dry Chuuya’s hair. Gently, of course, he doesn’t want to dizzy him on top of his suspected head injury. He’s already completely off-kilter.

He pats him dry and helps him over to the adjacent bedroom. Chuuya isn’t strong enough to walk on his own yet but Dazai keeps a hand on his waist to keep him steady. He sits down right at the corner, and Dazai backs up to get a good look at him.

He’s glad there’s no major injuries at least, nothing worse than some scrapes and little cuts, but he’s covered in dark bruises, which make the pale pallor of his skin much more obvious. He’s sure that’s part of the fever, but he can’t pin down exactly why he has a fever to begin with. Was he really sick before their mission? Does he have some sort of internal injury that’s gotten infected? Did using Corruption cause this?

Dazai grabs a random t-shirt and a pair of boxers from Chuuya’s closet and helps to dress him. It’s like dressing a doll. Chuuya isn’t unconscious, he’s still half-awake, at least, but he doesn’t make any effort to get dressed himself. He just lets Dazai do it and aids him here and there.

“Hey,” Dazai says, cupping Chuuya’s cheek and lifting his head just a bit to get a good look at his eyes. He’s not entirely there, but his eyes shift to look at Dazai after a few seconds. “You’re scaring me a little, Slug. Can you talk to me?”

Chuuya’s expression scrunches up a little like he’s confused, and Dazai’s stomach drops. He’s almost worried about him hallucinating. Dazai can’t count the number of times Chuuya has confused Dazai for one of his dead friends while suffering from a fever or some sort of major injury.

“Chuuya,” Dazai starts, running his fingers through his still slightly damp hair, brushing his bangs out of his face. They definitely need a trim. “Can you tell me my name?”

“Mackerel,” Chuuya grumbles under his breath, but his expression doesn’t change. He looks like he would fall asleep if Dazai pushed him backward.

That’s answer enough for him. As long as he’s not hallucinating.

“Okay,” Dazai says with a quiet sigh of relief. “You need to lay down, alright? I’ll see if you have athletic tape somewhere for that shoulder.”

Dazai trusts his mental state enough to leave him on his own for a few minutes while he goes through Chuuya’s bathroom drawers to find what he’s looking for, and thankfully, it appears in the third drawer without too much searching. Chuuya tends to keep things in his penthouse pretty orderly, but he’s noticed signs recently of things being a little out of place. Nothing major - a roll of toilet paper down with the cleaning products, a hairbrush on the floor, things Dazai would never think twice about - but they’re also things he knows Chuuya would never let slide.

He wanders back into the bedroom as he starts to take some of the tape off the roll, but Chuuya is still sitting there at the edge of the bed, his head hanging down, swaying ever so slightly. Dazai worries for a second he’s about to pass out, until he sees the hand pressed against his tummy.

"Dazai," Chuuya murmurs with a gruff moan. "'M gonna - gonna throw up."

Dazai appreciates the warning.

Chuuya somehow manages to hold it back until Dazai slides onto the bed next to him with the bin from his bathroom. He breathes over the bin for half a minute or so, letting the saliva drip down over the plastic. Dazai takes his free hand and starts to rub over his back, gently, and Chuuya groans at the feeling, leaning back into it just a bit and he spits a wad of saliva into the bin.

"Deep breaths, Chuuya," Dazai says gently.

Chuuya does as he’s told, taking in a few shaky breaths that aren’t nearly as deep as they should be, but soon enough, a gag follows a retch, and a torrent of vomit gushes into the bin.

“There you go. That’s good,” Dazai says quietly, patting Chuuya’s hair back as he throws up. Chuuya’s weak tolerance for alcohol makes him no stranger to throwing up like this, but this is the last thing he needs right now. The nausea is crystal clear on his face, and the pained moans that escape his lips between streams of vomit tell him it hurts, too. "You have anything here for nausea?"

"I don' need anythin'," Chuuya breathes out, spitting up a mouthful of stomach bile into the bin before he straightens himself up, eyes screwed shut and hand still heavy against his sore belly. "Jus' needed to get that out."

"If you say so," Dazai says, setting the bin down on the floor.

Chuuya somehow manages to gather the energy to crawl to the middle of the bed and collapse there, sinking into the pillow with a little whine.

He's lying down with his injured shoulder facing up, and Dazai takes the opportunity to carefully roll up his sleeve to apply the athletic tape. He watches Chuuya's face tense up as he does it. He can be as gentle as he wants, he's sure it hurts regardless.

Dazai sits beside Chuuya's shaky, curled-up form for a while, petting his slowly drying hair as Chuuya starts to relax just a bit, enough to give Dazai some relief.

He worries about him. Chuuya used to handle Corruption just fine, but if this is all really all just from the aftermath, even days later…

“Why didn’t you go to a doctor?” Dazai asks with a heavy sigh. He’s not sure why he cares. Chuuya’s an adult, he can take care of himself. And he usually always does.

“Dunno,” Chuuya croaks. His voice sounds scratchy.

“You don’t know?” Dazai confirms, a brow raised. “I found you laying in your own piss and I don’t have any clue how long you were there for.”

“Can’t remember,” Chuuya elaborates after a few moments of silence. He’s starting to sound a little more coherent, which is a good sign, but he doesn’t like what he’s just said.

Dazai’s shoulders sink. “Yeah?”

“I jus’ remember leavin’ with you,” Chuuya says quietly. He pauses, like he’s trying to see if he can collect anything else from his memory, but he gives up. “And…and then, the shower.”

“So you don’t have any clue what happened in between, huh?” Dazai says. Chuuya didn’t seem that out of it when they met before the mission happened. He wasn’t himself, but Chuuya’s never forward about his feelings, so Dazai has a hard time guessing if he was like that mentally, or from an oncoming illness.

“Nuh-uh,” Chuuya mumbles.

Dazai bites his lip. That can’t be good. “Has this been happening every time?”

Chuuya is quiet for a moment, almost like he’s waiting for Dazai to elaborate. Maybe he’s just confused. “Every time what?”

“Every time you use Corruption,” Dazai reminds him.

“S’that what happened?” Chuuya yawns. Dazai watches his eyelids start to fall just a bit.

Dazai feels sick. He didn’t even put those pieces together, with everything that’s going on with him? Part of him wants to believe this is just from a head injury he suffered during this mission, but he’s been getting worse about using Corruption.

Surely he’s fine. If Chuuya really thought something was wrong with himself, he would take care of it.

“My shoulder’s killin’ me,” he murmurs, adjusting it just a bit before realizing moving it at all causes too much pain for it to be worth it.

“No kidding,” Dazai sighs. "I'll get some ice packs. That might help."

Dazai slips out of the bed, and heads for the kitchen to look for something he can use. He knows there’s an ice pack or two in the freezer, Chuuya’s needed them for injuries before, but upon looking in the freezer, he finds it’s nearly empty. There’s a box or two, but normally, Chuuya has lots of things in here.

He opens the refrigerator out of curiosity and finds it to be the same way. Chuuya certainly has the money to be eating out every night, so maybe that’s what he’s been doing, but he likes cooking. It’s strange for him to really have nothing. His stomach twists. He hates that feeling.

Dazai takes two ice packs from the freezer before he hears Chuuya’s ringtone, coming from the bedroom. He remembers seeing Chuuya’s cell phone on the nightstand. He wonders who could be calling him.

Dazai leans in the doorway as he watches Chuuya’s uninjured arm reach for the cell phone, and of course, he’s hiding the screen from him with an annoyed scowl.

"Hey," Chuuya says through a sigh once he answers, laying back against the pillows. The voice says something, but it’s not loud enough for Dazai to be able to figure out who. "I know. 'M sorry. Haven't been feeling so great."

Dazai's glad he's being honest, at least.

"You don't need'a come. 'M fine, just gonna rest today," Chuuya says. “I’ll see ya tomorrow. Love you. Okay?”

The voice says something back, and soon enough, Chuuya tosses his phone to the side and lays his arm over his eyes with a heavy sigh.

"Love you?" Dazai repeats as he wanders over to the bed, climbing back in next to him to lay one ice pack under his shoulder, and the other right on top of it.

"Mhm," Chuuya says he shudders just a bit at the cold feeling, but he relaxes soon enough. "You're allowed to have a side piece too. So don't start."

"I didn't start anything," Dazai chuckles. He's referring to Kunikida, he thinks. "Who?"

"Who what?" Chuuya groans.

"Who was that?" Dazai clarifies.

"Who was what?" Chuuya huffs. He’s clearly annoyed, but he really doesn’t seem to know what Dazai is talking about.

Dazai bites his lip. Maybe he just needs to be reminded. "On the phone, Chuuya."

Chuuya takes his arm off of his face, revealing a genuinely confused expression. "The hell you talkin' about, Mackerel?"

Now Dazai feels like he's going to throw up. "Nothing, Slug."

Is Chuuya losing his memory?

Is using Corruption doing this to him?

Is this a head injury? Is it just because he’s been passed out for a while?

What is he going to do if Chuuya loses his memory?

"I'll be right back."

Dazai tries to be as nonchalant as possible as he leaves Chuuya’s bedroom, trailing off to the guest bathroom on the other side of his penthouse, out of earshot from Chuuya, because he thinks he’s really going to throw up. His stomach twists as he opens the door and he hastily leans over the toilet, and then gags once or twice before his stomach clenches and the bit of food he had for breakfast comes up.

He stays standing, his hands on his knees and he chokes up whatever he can manage. His head swims and these concerns repeat in his mind as fast as a car wheel going a thousand miles an hour. Why does it matter to him, if Chuuya loses his memory? He doesn’t need Chuuya. He’s fine without Chuuya. Clearly, Chuuya is the one who needs him.

At some point his legs get tired and he’s just left breathing heavily over the toilet. He doesn’t even have the will to flush, and part of him thinks he should go back to Chuuya, but his legs give out and he curls up in the corner where the wall and the shower door meet.

It’s not long before he hears the bathroom door creak open.

"Did you puke?" Chuuya asks, his voice shaky. Dazai’s tempted to lie, but he’s sure he can see the evidence in the toilet.

"Had too much to eat for lunch,” Dazai says. He knows Chuuya won’t believe him. Maybe he wants to lead him on. He doesn’t know.

"That's not like you," Chuuya murmurs. He’s leaning against the door frame, holding an ice pack up to his shoulder. "What's the real reason? You anxious about somethin’?"

He does throw up when he's anxious. "No, no. My stomach just...y’know.”

"Dazai," Chuuya sighs.

Chuuya drags himself into the bathroom and sits down beside Dazai with a pained groan. He feels warm next to Dazai as he leans against him, laying his head on Dazai’s shoulder. He huffs, sounding a little more than exhausted, like it’s taken a great effort for him to get here. “Can’t believe you made me walk all the way over here when I feel like shit.”

“I didn’t make you do anything,” Dazai insists with a half-smile. “You worrying about me, Slug?”

“Yeah, you ran out of my room out of nowhere,” Chuuya huffs.

Dazai finds some solace in the fact that he hasn’t forgotten that.

“I’m worried about you too,” Dazai says quietly, and he’s not sure why he would say something like that out loud. He’s disgusted with himself, it almost makes him want to throw up again. Being so vulnerable with another person is so unadmirable.

“Bout me?” Chuuya starts, lifting his head and turning to look at Dazai, even if it seems to be filled with lead. “‘M fine, ‘Samu. I always feel like shit after Corruption.”

"I think you should see a doctor," Dazai says. He almost wishes he could lean his head on Chuuya’s shoulder, but doing that would likely break his neck. A shame, really.

"'Bout what," Chuuya sighs. “Thought you were playin’ doctor.”

"Your memory,” Dazai says quietly, feeling his stomach start to twist again.

Chuuya is quiet for a few moments. "My memory's fine."

"I'm serious, Chuuya,” Dazai says. He hates being serious.

"'M serious too, 'Samu. I don't need’a see a doctor. I’ll be fine in a few days," Chuuya grumbles. He’s really starting to sound annoyed, but Dazai is having a very hard time letting this go. "Quit worryin' about me."

"Do you remember who called you earlier?" Dazai bites. He doesn’t want to sound vicious. Maybe the bitter taste of the stomach acid in the back of his throat is making him sound that way. His stomach is never going to give him a break, at this rate.

Another pause. "What the hell're you talkin' about?"

“Someone called you, Chuuya,” Dazai murmurs, pressing his palms against his eyelids because his eyes are starting to burn and he would rather throw up on Chuuya than cry in front of him. “I asked you who it was after you hung up and you didn’t know what I was talking about, and you still don’t.”

Chuuya is quiet again.

“Can you…can you get out? Please?” Dazai mumbles, keeping his face concealed from Chuuya. He hates the way he feels. He’s not physically hurting anywhere, besides maybe his stomach, but this worry and anxiety is just as painful as any wound. “I need to throw up again.”

“‘M not leavin’ you, Mackerel,” Chuuya says quietly, not seeming to care much that Dazai tried to kick him out of his own bathroom. Dazai thinks he’s started to realize that he might be contributing to the fact that Dazai’s stomach is twisting and turning so uncomfortably,

Dazai feels it, hot in the back of his mouth, and he would really rather just swallow it, but he stumbles forward and chokes up the stomach bile into the toilet to join the rest. He coughs before he can manage to gag again. It really burns, it hurts, tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he’s telling himself that throwing up right now is the only reason that’s happening.

Chuuya is still beside him, despite how sick he is himself, a steady hand on his back, mumbling some comforting words that Dazai can’t quite decipher.

“I’ll call a doctor, ‘kay? Maybe you can get looked at too,” Chuuya says quietly once Dazai is just left huffing out hot breaths over the toilet.

Dazai shakes his head. The idea of that almost makes him gag. “No, I don’t…I’m fine.”

“‘M’kay,” Chuuya says, to Dazai’s surprise. Dazai thinks he’s gotten the hint, now. “You still nauseous? I’ll get somethin’ for you.”

Dazai shakes his head again and somehow manages to force himself onto his shaky legs without much help. His stomach is still all out of sorts, but he knows nausea medication won’t be able to help. “Can we go lay down?”

Chuuya nods with a little sigh, using his ability to stand himself up without too much effort, taking Dazai’s hand like he’s leading him to his bedroom. Dazai’s been there a million times, there’s really no reason for him to do this, but he squeezes his hand tight. It feels nice.

“I’ll be right back. Gonna get a glass of water,” Chuuya says once Dazai curls up into the bed. Dazai’s facing away from him, but he can hear Chuuya take his phone before he wanders out of the bedroom.

Dazai knows he’s calling someone.

“Hey,” Chuuya starts. He sounds far away, like he’s in the kitchen, but Dazai can still hear him fairly well. “‘M sorry. I know I said I didn’t need anythin’, but…”

The voice says something, and Chuuya sighs, answering with a defeated yeah.

Dazai feels like he can relax a little more, and his stomach doesn’t hurt so much.

He curls up in the bed as if it’s his own, and before long, Chuuya returns to do the same, lying close beside Dazai, but far enough that Dazai can still see his face. He looks miserable. If he were standing, Dazai thinks he would certainly pass out.

“You look like shit,” Chuuya grumbles, his nose scrunched.

“I was just thinking about how much you look like shit,” Dazai tells him.

“At least I’ve got a good excuse,” Chuuya huffs. Dazai can’t argue with that, Chuuya’s the one with a fever. “You’re just worried about me. Freak.”

Dazai ducks his head in and cuddles up closer to Chuuya, a little flattered that he’s remembering that despite everything being so touch-and-go right now. His warmth is still a bit concerning, but it’s almost comforting. Dazai doesn’t know why, but he’s almost too tired to care.

“Take better care of yourself,” Dazai mumbles quietly.

“Take your own advice,” Chuuya says back, sounding just as exhausted as he looks. “Get some rest, shitty Mackerel.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

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ivlenyxx · 1 month

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Beyond What the Lights Could Offer - Chapter 1

Soukoku Kowloon Walled City 1980s Filmmakers AU. Prepare thyself for agonisingly slow updates, a lot of references towards Hong Kong and me screaming into the void.

original fic link on AO3 (by yours truly): Beyond What the Lights Could Offer by Lemon(ivlenyxx)

May 14th 2023, 29 years, 10 months since the release of Stray Dogs.

“Nakahara-san, Dazai-dan, nearly 30 years have passed since the release of the hit movie ‘Stray Dogs’,” the interviewer says with a smile. “It has grossed over 800 million USD at the box office and many consider it a classic. Many fans have wondered ‘Just what is the story behind the film?’. Now that’s a question that’s been asked for nearly thirty years now, so we beg of you,” she claps her hands together to form a prayer gesture and bows her head. “What exactly is the story behind Stray Dogs?”

The pair sitting opposite her both chuckle, amused.

“Alright, alright. Since it’s nearly the 30th anniversary, we’ll tell you.” the man in the fedora answers.

Nakahara Chuuya, age 52, executive producer of “Stray Dogs”, sits up straighter as he ponders the question, combing through his faded copper hair with his hand; his partner, Dazai Osamu, age 51, director of “Stray Dogs”, smirks slightly, wrinkles spreading across his face. “Come on, Chibi, can’t keep our fans waiting,” he nods towards the interviewer and the TV crew across from them. “Unless the Great Nakahara Chuuya is getting slow in his old age.” he teases, leaning over Chuuya’s neck.

Nakahara noticeably bristles under his partner’s breath, that discomfort quickly morphs into annoyance and reaches its stunning conclusion as Chuuya grabs Dazai’s collar. “I swear to God, you shitty mackerel-” he snaps as the other man whines and wallows dramatically under his grip. “We’re the same age! I can’t take a moment to think?!-”

“No! Oh no! Chuuya is attacking me!” Dazai exclaims and yaps, notes of fake panic and amusement dripping from his voice. (The interviewer sits awkwardly in silence while the rest of the crew whisper amongst themselves) “My God, this is marital violence!” He throws up his arms (making sure to flash a gold wedding band at the camera) and easily overpowers his dear Chibi, shoving him onto the far end of the couch before redirecting his attention to the interviewer, the poor unfortunate soul bearing witness to Nakahara making grabby hands at Dazai while the latter holds him off with a hand in his face. “It goes a little something like this…”

April 29th 1986, 8 years before the release of Stray Dogs.

Chuuya’s not exactly sure how he ended up here, but okay.

The red light floods the crowded, 40 square foot room, Chuuya’s eyes hurt from the strobing lights;Chuuya’s ears are bleeding from the music blasting through the crackling radio.

Oh second thought, not okay. Chuuya wants to leave.

He puts down the half finished glass of cheap whiskey before manoeuvring his way through mountains and seas of people dancing to the beat of something that just came on. (something American, he doesn’t want to know) The red lights continue to pull assassination attempts on his eyes, which is only made worse by the pixelated screens displaying images of half naked men and women “available” in this cursed brothel-nightclub hybrid. The two dozen people making out in every direction doesn’t help either.

If there was such a thing as unsee juice in this world, Chuuya would like 10 litres of it, please.

Finally, Chuuya makes it out of the brothel-nightclub, (thankfully in one piece) he looks back at the bouncer, who doesn’t even spare him a glance. Hell, he didn’t even ask him for any form of ID, despite him obviously being underaged. His short stature speaks for itself.

Guess that’s Kowloon Walled City for ya.

Chuuya makes his way through the interconnected hallways, counting and reading the posters plastered all over the place. 1, 2, 3, 4… 28. He thinks half of them are advertising stuff for the Port Mafia Gang. Interesting. He’d heard of them, of course. The most powerful underground organisation of the Walled City, operating in the dark (well, as dark as the City of Darkness could get) or even beyond. He’d heard rumours of them stretching all the way to Lantau Island and the Shatin District. Hell, even Cheung Chau’s underworld carries traces of their interference!

Not that he’s ever personally been down there, of course. The underworld, he means.

Chuuya kicks at his feet as he makes his way up to the rooftop of the building, the gate creaks agreeably every time he pushes it and it returns to its original position with a pleasant clang! He squeezes his way through the drying sheets, careful not to bump into them in his dirty clothes, and legs it across a huge pile of scrap. At last, he reaches the edge of the rooftop and leans on the railing, taking in the sight of the City in the middle of the night. There are still a few lights on at this hour, not counting the establishments of the night, aka the opium traders, nightclubs, gambling dens, makeshift casinos etc etc. He spies one on the far left, the light of the balcony flickers in a way that reminds him of moths flapping their wings, and under the light is a boy his age with black hair and a bandage over his right eye, teetering back and forth on his feet, fingers gripping tight on the handrail. His eyes are downturned, expression blank.

What a weirdo. Chuuya thinks. He turns away to light a cigarette and takes a long drag. The next time he looks, the light is off, the boy is gone.

He can’t help but feel disappointed, somehow.

Chuuya shrugs off the feeling and takes another drag of the cigarette, looking straight ahead, beyond the Walled City, at the Kai Tak Airport. Planes take off and land dangerously close to the buildings nearby, another few soar mere metres above Chuuya’s head, their loud, rumbling engines sing a comforting tune to accompany the city’s orchestra of dripping air-cons and creaky pipes down below.

It’s as beautiful as ever.

One of these days, I’m getting outta here. He vows, before putting out the cigarette and flicking it off the roof.

He doesn’t know how many hours have passed, only that this is the perfect way to celebrate his fifteenth birthday.

Chuuya continues to admire the view of the Kowloon Bay, occasionally glancing over to Victoria Harbour for a glimpse of its colourful and lively skyline. The best part about this corner of Kowloon Walled City? It contains the tallest building. One can pretty much see everything within a 20 km radius, and if one’s lucky, the clouds’ll part for the stars, and even the shortest, most 150-centimetre-ed of people could enjoy their glory.

He reaches for the radio beside him, switching between channels until he finds one that plays something that suits his favour.

It ends up being an English channel, playing something from a new writer from America.

“Now playing: The Tell-Tale Heart, by Edgar Allan Poe,” the presenter states calmly, before a low and unsettling voice takes its place, narrating the tale of an insane man who murdered his elderly housemate.

Chuuya listens absent-mindedly as he lights another cigarette and continues to watch over the Walled City, his position giving him a handy bird’s-eye view over everything else. More lights have switched on, the opium dens are starting to close, the bars and brothels are chasing people out like a restaurant owner at animals like you see in movies or it’s 20-something A.D. and they have leprosy. Must be nearly morning.��

Oh shit it’s nearly morning.

His eyes widen as he catches the faint blue ring of the sun rising over the horizon and slowly but surely evolve into a blinding orange light that pours over the Sai Kung District to the east, then to the Uni of Sci and Tech, to Tseung Kwan O- Chuuya throws his cigarette over the railing for the second time before shutting off the radio and making a mad dash for the gate, legging it over the scrap, nimbly contorting his body to avoid touching the sheets, before finally bolting down the stairs and out of the building. He passes the town square - a relic from the Walled City’s past as a Song Dynasty military outpost - and nearly slams straight into a bunch of bakbaks and popos doing taichi. A couple of them yell at him for his insolence. He zips his way through alleyways full of drunkards and shakes off a madman trying to gut him with a knife, (it’s the Walled City, he’s seen worse) he looks up for a split second and stops in his tracks.

He can see the sky from here.

The small slit of bright, warm blue peeks out amongst the mess of pipes and haphazardly built roofs, the clouds dance across it in pinks, soft oranges and light yellows. Chuuya stares up at that beautiful sight through the gap, the City has never been this generous before, the most daylight he ever got to see was approximately none, except for when he headed out of the Walled City every few months to run for supplies that the Triads couldn’t access.

Chuuya looks around for a landmark that he can bookmark into his memory, and spots another one of the Port Mafia Gang’s posters on the wall to his left.

He sighs. That oughta do. And so the poster enters his mind.

He allows himself several more minutes of staring at the sky before booking it back home, he just hopes that Shirase and Yuan won’t be too pissed.

Unbeknownst to him, a boy with jet black hair and bandages all over has been looking at him through a window for a while now.

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #fanfiction #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #kowloon walled city #1980s #filmmakers au #soukoku #dazai x chuuya #how do i tag this #slow burn #horrifically slow updates #original on ao3

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jujywrites · 22 days

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Invincible Summer

howhoops, I forgot to actually announce this on my fic blog *facepalm* For @holly-poly 2023, I got the opportunity and motivation to properly write out a plotbunny I've been keeping for at least 3 years. As sometimes happens, it turned out to be about 3 times as long as I had thought it would be, so I'll just link to my usuals and leave a preview here. Over 3k is my full-post limit here, even with Read More, lol.

Shout-out to the lovely folks of @polyamships for their support!

AO3

FF.net

and see a preview below~

***

A rather mousy girl chooses the seat next to her ten minutes before the first class begins; Mayu has been there for twenty minutes already as she doesn’t have much else to do on that day of the first week. She keeps skimming the textbook for this class.

“Hello,” the girl Mayu does not yet know says. “I’m Sohma Kana. Pleased to meet you.”

“Hello. Likewise.” The bare minimum she can say to avoid being rude.

“Are you planning to enter the medical field? I am; right now I’m a physiology major. I think I’d like to be a nurse, or maybe work in the lab and make discoveries, or maybe…”

Clearly, not looking at the girl makes no difference in whether she talks, so Mayu gives up on trying to read her textbook.

Sohma Kana’s face is somewhat flushed, as if she ran to class. Her eyes are hazel, bright and eager; her hair, unlike Mayu’s, is too fashionably short for a ponytail, landing at her chin. However, she wears a decorative hair clip featuring one of the Sanrio characters whose name escapes her.

Mayu notices two things quickly; Sohma-san stopped speaking, and she has an expectant look on her face. This leads to a third thing: Mayu blushing (and praying that Kana doesn’t see it, and blushing harder). Because Sohma-san asked a question, probably, and Mayu hadn’t heard anything because she had been too distracted, maybe even staring.

“Shiraki. Shiraki Mayuko. I’m not, this isn’t, it’s just an elective. I’m studying to be a teacher. A high school teacher,” she adds, the realization dawning.

“I see… This way you can have a backup career as a school nurse!” Sohma-san beams a smile, giggling freely. “Well, Mayu-chan— is it all right to call you Mayu-chan? You can call me Kana-chan— let’s make a study pact.”

“Study pact?” Mayu stammers, caught off guard by... Kana-san’s eagerness.

The girl smiles, undeterred. “Let’s support each other by sharing notes if one of us misses a class, cheering each other on, that sort of thing.”

Mayu much prefers to study alone and keep to herself (because in her skewed logic, that way only she will know if she screwed something up). She has a way of studying that isn’t meant to be disturbed, and—

Kana-san gazes at her, quietly earnest. “It can just be for this course, even if we have other classes together. I do hope we have more classes in common!”

Why does she feel like a goose being imprinted on by a cygnet? She laughs shortly. “We just met. You hardly know me.”

A cat-like grin steals over her face for a moment. “I have good instincts. You seem like an interesting, nice person, and I like you. Besides, if we do end up in other courses then I’ll learn more about you!”

Mayu feels warm everywhere, not just her face anymore; she shifts in her seat, scratching the back of her neck, and admits defeat. “All right.”

#Fruits Basket #JujYwrites #Shiraki Mayuko/Sohma Hatori/Sohma Kana #polyamory

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toasttt11 · 1 month

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reunited

December 14, 2023

Gemma grabbed all of bags off the airport conveyer belt, she had just landed in Toronto being home for two days.

Gemma originally was suppose to be on a plane right now on the way to Sweden and she wasn’t going to be able to make it to the Blue Jackets at The Leafs game to be able to see Adam playing in the NHL at their home stadium.

Gemma luckily asked her coach if she could come two days later and be able to watch her brother play in the NHL for the first time.

Obviously she got the okay and immediately booked her ticket to come home and she contacted the Blue Jackets media team to keep her ticket that Adam had originally gotten for her and made sure no one knew she was coming to see him play.

Gemma got an uber to her child hood home and carried all of her bags up into her room and luckily for her, her family had already left for the game. Gemma quickly put on a pair of black skinny jeans, a blue hoodie with Adam’s jersey over and slipped a pair of black converse on.

Gemma called for a cab to take her to the stadium. She paid the fee and walked up to the stadium through the crowds of people, she scanned her ticket and headed to her section and she smiled seeing many people that she knows in the section and saw her parents, Luca and Nick sitting in a row and a seat empty next to her dad.

She walked down the the stairs quietly not catching anyone’s attention and walked into the row her ticket was at, “Is this seat taken?” Gemma softly questioned making her parents and Luca heads all snap up to her.

“Gems!” Her dad happily exclaimed pulling his only daughter in a tight hug.

“Hi Dad.” Gemma giggled and hugged him back before letting go and hugging her mother tightly.

“My Gem.” Her mother happily cooed as she held her youngest in her arms before letting her go to Luca.

“Hi Lu.” Gemma smiled widely at her big brother, Luca smiled shaking his head in disbelief pulling his baby sister into a tight hug.

“I missed you.” Luca whispered into his sister’s ear, truthfully this year was weird for Luca being completely alone without either of his siblings for the first time in his life.

“I missed you too.” Gemma whispered back hugging him tighter.

Luca reluctantly let her go letting her go hug Nick, “Hi Nicky.” Gemma smiled and hugged her past teammate.

“Hi little Fants.” Nick smiled hugging her back.

Gemma stepped back after the hug seeing her parents scoot down a seat so she could sit between Luca and her mom, Gemma smiled softer at them and sat down having her mother immediately hold her hand.

“I thought you were heading to Sweden right now.” Julia softly questioned her daughter, knowing that her husband and her were planning to join their daughter with Luca coming with after Christmas.

“I was but Coach let me come two days later so i could come to the game.” Gemma explained to her family, squeezing her mother’s hand back.

“We’re glad you’re here.” Giuliano smiled softly at his young daughter, Gemma sent him a smile back.

Gemma smiled cheering as she saw Adam get into the ice for warmups, she smiled at her brother when she noticed Adam seeing her and she waved softly to her brother as Adam shook his head in disbelief smiling widely and waving back at his sister.

The Blue Jackets won 6-5.

Adam got dressed after the game and hurried to the section where his family and friends were all at, he smiled as he walked up the stairs in shock seeing so many people that ending up coming to support him.

He hugged both his parents, Luca and Nick and saw Gemma waiting patiently and Adam tackled her into a tight hug.

“Hi.” Adam voice cracked slightly, Adam has been able to see Luca and his parents more than he has seen Gemma and he hasn’t seen her since she went back to school months ago and it was the longest they have gone with out seeing each other.

“Hi.” Gemma whispered out hugging her brother just as tightly back hating that they haven’t seen each other in so long.

They pulled apart and shared a look and they both grabbed one of Luca’s arm pulling him into a hug, the three all let out an identical sighs as they were all reunited again and all together.

Giuliano and Julia shared a soft look enjoying seeing their kids all together again.

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novellagg · 6 months

Text

NOVELLA's Most Recent Relationships

Characters: All of NOVELLA ft. Kim Do-Hyun(OC), Ahn Min-Seok(OC), Bae Ji-Woo(OC), and other (unnamed) characters

POV: Omniscient Author (me)

Warnings: Ae-Cha was in an emotionally abusive/toxic relationship, homophobia is also mentioned

───

♡ Min Su-Jin + Kim Do-Hyun (2021 - present)

Kim Do-Hyun (’97) was a friend Sujin made while she was still attending university. They met through mutual friends while out drinking (before she was scouted), but back then, they both had zero feelings for each other (Sujin was happily single, and Do-Hyun already had a girlfriend) and they weren't very close friends either.

However, they remained in contact until Sujin dropped out in 2018 to focus on her upcoming debut, and Do-Hyun joined the military that same year. He had no idea where she disappeared to because he, along with most of her other uni friends, never knew she was a trainee. Eventually, a little while after her debut, he started to see her face on social media. He's not into Kpop at all, but once he noticed Sujin, he began watching NOVELLA's performances out of curiosity.

They finally reunited in 2020 (pre-lockdown) during a military dischargement party with some of their mutual friends. After their reunion, they became a lot closer, and Do-Hyun even started developing a little crush. This time around, Sujin was dating someone else (an idol), but they quickly broke up due to covid. It definitely took Sujin a lot longer to fall for Do-Hyun after breaking up with her boyfriend. Dating as an idol, especially with a non-celeb, is extremely hard, and she didn't want to ruin the friendship they had.

In September 2021, when covid restrictions 'started lifting' and idol life was beginning to go back to ‘normal’, Do-Hyun just decided to bite the bullet and ask her out. (The exact scenario was something like; Sujin said she would probably be going on tour in January, and Do-Hyun couldn't wait any longer to ask her out). Sujin initially protested, saying that it wouldn't work and yada yada yada, but it just went in one ear and out the other. They have now been dating for over two years and have even met eachothers families.

THEY'RE END GAME YOUR HONOUR!! (ノД｀)ノ

♡ Kim Haeun + ? (2022 - 2022)

Haeun has had a couple of boyfriends, but none of them were really memorable. Her most recent boyfriend was also an idol, as are most of her exes, and they had a very quiet relationship that eventually ended due to conflicting schedules and dying feelings.

The relationship lasted, maybe 9 months or so? And I think after this, Haeun decided that dating is kind of a waste of time for her since she feels like it won't lead to anything, at least not for the next 5 years.

Since her breakup, she has yet to engage in anything 'serious ' or 'exclusive '.

♡ Choi Aecha + ? (2020 - 2023)

OK, so... Aecha's love life is kinda messy.

She has/has had some major co-dependency issues which attracted some questionable men.

The current man in question was OK at first. They originally broke up mid covid because they never got to see each other, but afterwards, they began a weird 'on and off' situation. Between 2021-2022, they had broken up at least 5 times, and it was mostly because our 'king' got caught cheating on her with multiple different girls.

But Aecha, being stupidly gullible and emotionally dependent, would take him back. every. time.

The man would go from 'I'm so sorry baby I didn't mean to, I was just drunk and lonely when you were out of town', to, 'well maybe I wouldn't be seeing other girls if you payed more attention to me', to, 'do you even still love me?! In fact, I should be breaking up with you!'

In early 2023, after a particularly rough fight, members Haeun, Sujin, and Dambi staged an intervention where they finally convinced Aecha to break it off for good. Since then, she has not been in contact with her ex at all, and is taking an overall break from dating.

♡ Yoon Eunjeong + Ahn Min-Seok (2023 - present)

Ahn Min-Seok (’96 ) is a famous Korean actor (oc) who mainly stars in romance Kdramas. Eun-Jeong is friends with a lot of actors, so they met for the first time during a mutual friends’ birthday party (April). They've only been dating for like a month or two (Oct), but started ‘talking’ back in April.

♡ Kim Dambi + Bae Ji-Woo (2019 - 2020)

NOOO, THEY SHOULD'VE BEEN END GAME (　ＴДＴ)

So basically, Dambi is a lesbian. Her and Ji-Woo dated for about 9 months (Sept - May) and they were literally in love, in fact, Dambi is definitely still in love with her and has made multiple songs for/about her (e.g. Oh My God).

Unfortunately, homophobia is real 💔, and they both knew that they'd likely never be able to freely be a couple, which wasn't fair on either of them. So, they mutually decided to break it off on good terms, but it hurt too much to remain as friends so they decided to cut contact.

♡ Kang Nari + ? (2023 - 2023)

Another typical relationship with another random idol.

Yada yada yada, conflicting schedules, blah blah blah, mutual break up.

Nari has had a few other relationships that have ended similarly, but unlike Haeun, she's still striving to find her dream SuHyun relationship.

♡ Hiramatsu Aina + Not Applicable (∞)

＿|￣|○ she's actually a loser.

She has 0 idol friends outside her group, and I mean literally 0.

It's not like she doesn't want friends, she just genuinely can't make any (anxiety is a disease). Also she's very busy, like she probably spends 90% of her free time producing music or something, she is ADDICTED.

She wants to be in a relationship and doesn't at the same time. On one hand, she's envious of Sujin and all of the couples minus Aecha's situation surrounding her, but at the same time, she doesn't want a partner taking up her already nonexistent free time.

#fake kpop group #fictional idol community #fictional idol group #kpop oc #kpop female oc #fictional kpop idol #idol oc #fictional idol oc #fake kpop girl group #fictional kpop community #fanfic #NovellaGG #.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ . ── (ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢꜱ)

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yumichikah · 7 months

Note

Yumi would be greeted with something very simple for his birthday this year. How many years is it now? Two? Three? She'd always tried to give him something a little showy. Like vibrant origami flowers, fireworks and an assortment of things that were meant to inspire awe. But this year - She went a little simpler.

He would find a seemingly plain birthday card. The front would have his name written in a practiced cursive. Nothing particularly noteworthy, but it was obvious effort was put into it. Within it, a pressed, origami lily in a shade of purple matching his eyes would occupy one side. Each time he touched it, or if he were close enough to exhale on it, it would gently shift colors to a more vibrant pink, fading back into the same purple it had begun as when left undisturbed. The other would be a note adhered to the side with small patterns around the edges to accentuate its appearance.

Happy Birthday, Yumichika. Another year we haven't killed each other.

If he flips it over to look at the back, an origami violin would be found. Upon touching it, a melody would begin to play. One that has layers. Something one person would have to achieve with modern technology. But this was Jezebel. This was a Fullbringer who used origami. Layering parts to create the whole, and manipulating the sounds of her violin to achieve things that did not belong to string instruments, or were too low for her violin. This was for him. Only him.

Birthday Peacock 2023!

The card laying on the table in the archives was obviously meant for him to find as no one else was regular enough of a visitor to even notice it on first glance like Yumichika did instantly. The whole situation was a reminder of something that happened last year during his birthday when this whole elaborate show of origamis had been presented to him between the shelves. Was it possible that simple looking card was from the same sender as last year?

Taking steps towards the said card, a folder was quickly placed in it’s slot in the shelf before his full attention was able to be directed to the inconspicuous item. Getting to it, the sharp purple eyes could definitely tell that the cursive didn’t flow enough to be the result of a lifetime practice like what he had observed Kuchiki-taicho’s handwriting to be. It wasn’t ugly or anything, but the lines were heavier than necessary and some edges of those inked lines were a bit shaky. Seeing the effort did make the beauty smile faintly though as he was happy to receive any presents that showed effort. The person writing this must’ve actually thought about him.

Picking up the card, fingertips made contact with the surprise on the back of it, prompting the melody to start sounding. It caught the peacock off-guard and he jumped a little before flipping the thing over and staring at the violin shape with that slowly intensifying, yet beautiful music flowing from between the folds somehow. Without realizing it, Yumichika had went completely still, barely daring to breathe as he took in the notes and the hidden story within them, amazed at how something so powerful sounding was pouring out of something so delicate. This style was something new he had never heard of before and couldn’t help but feel excited about – who could come up with sounds like this? Wasn’t violins traditionally used to portray tenderness and sadness?

As the song came to an end, the stillness of the lone body continued just a moment longer. As if he was expecting for the piece to suddenly pick up again, but it didn’t. Letting out a breath he was holding, the peacock relaxed some and went to open the card. What even could be inside if the backside itself was already such a spectacle? Guess he would find out soon enough as the manicured hands folded the thing open. A flower? And a message, it seemed. Setting the card on the table, the beauty kept his eyes fixed at the flower intently as he traced it’s outlines with his finger. The paper changed color beautifully. He couldn’t help but think about how the woman behind this all surely had a great eye for detail – it seemed as if nothing about the folded papers were simple or plain, which was highly appreciated by someone like him. The thought itself resulted in a honest smile.

Not sure what this whole note would be about, Yumichika noticed that he was readying himself up for yet another surprise before reading the very crude message with a quick happy birthday slapped in front of it. At that point he couldn’t help but laugh to himself; if he hadn’t been sure who had left this surprise for him here before, it was clear as day by the time these words were read. Shaking his head, the birthday boy closed the card and slid it inside his shihakusho to make sure it didn’t get lost or buried during his task of sorting a few papers. This one was one for the keeping for sure.

As the birdy started working, he made a mental note to thank Jezebel the next time they happened to meet. Maybe even buy her lunch or something like a proper friend would do. They were close friends now.... right?

#soulxfragments #asks #//Yumi approves! Beautiful music and a color changing flower! They're right up his alley!#//Thanks for leaving this here for him! <3 #Birthday Peacock 2023!

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aonoexpat · 11 months

Text

SO UHM I GOT A VAN

27-05-2023

It all happened a lot more quickly than I had expected, and it's not over yet, but as I type these words I can look out my window at the first ever vehicle in my name that's going to be my home for the foreseeable future and it's very surreal.

He's a Nissan Elgrand E50 from 2000, and all I could think when I first saw him was ✨Here comes the booooy ✨, hence the he/him pronouns. The previous owners seem to disagree because they had named it Elsie. To honour that I think I'll go with Elrond, after the Elven king from Lord of the Rings :)

The hunt was a bit of a rollercoaster. I used Trademe and Facebook marketplace (ugh I know, I wish there was another way) to browse vans in the Te Whanganui-a-tara area because I wanted to be able to easily go and see the vans before committing. Of course by searching locally I limited myself, but still managed to find a good group of candidates.

It was really tricky at first because I had no clue what to look for. I'd never owned a car before, and still don't have a lot of experience driving. I was extremely lucky to have my wonderful friends to rely on, who were happy to search with me and tell me the pros and cons about the cars we found ❤️❤️❤️

I learned a whole bunch about cars in the process, and ended up judging the listed vans on the following points:

WOF: this stands for Warrant Of Fitness (Dutch people would know this as APK), and means that the car has been found to mechanically sound an safe to drive. You do not want to buy a car without a valid WOF, for it will likely not pass the tests again, and then you won't be allowed to take it on the road;

Rego: short for registration. This is Aotearoa's version of what the Dutch know as wegenbelasting, or road tax. You register the car to be allowed to use the roads. There are no tests associated with this, but it's common courtesy to sell a car with a bit of rego left on it;

Self-contained certification: a car can be certified self-contained, which means a person can sleep or camp in it without needing external facilities such as lavatories or kitchens. Freedom camping sites can require anybody parking there to display a certification, or you get sent away. The rules for this certification are being changed at the moment, but in short they require the car to have a (portable) toilet, a sink, enough fresh and gray water, an evacuation hose and a rubbish bin. My van is certified self-contained until December 2023, which means I'll be able to freedom camp with it for a while. I would like to get the certification renewed for two more years, as a certified self-contained car is a lot easier to resell when the time comes;

Mileage, or traveled distance: a car that has driven fewer kilometers in its lifetime is preferable over one that has driven a lot. I've noticed that with backpacker vans, <200.000 km is quite low, as some go up to 700.000+. The one I ended up buying has ~211.000 km to its name, so that was definitely acceptable;

Fuel type: a petrol engine seemed preferable over a diesel one, because diesel burns less efficiently which means more pollution (unless you've got a turbo engine). Because of that you have to pay an extra fee to travel with a diesel car. However, diesel is a lot cheaper, so financially it would be the more interesting choice. I ended up going for a petrol car because it was much cheaper than the diesel option I considered, so the cost got canceled out;

Fuel efficiency: over here this is measured in L/100km. If a car needs <10L/100km, you've got yourself a real nice one. Unfortunately mine does ~15L/100km, because it's a heavy van, but again it was quite cheap so I was happy to accept that;

Solar panel: I really wanted a car with a solar panel on top. That way I can use electricity in the car while it's parked, especially when I'll be staying in the same spot for a while and not using the engine to charge the car battery. Mine has a 110W solar panel on top that connects directly to an inverter/battery combination in the van, which outputs 12V as well as 110V, if I recall correctly. This means I can easily charge a phone as well as a laptop, or use an electric kettle;

Insulation: against the cold outside air (remember, it's winter here). This is something I only found in a van that was professionally set up and resold, and was not common. My van does not have insulation, but I think I'll be okay! I've got that hot water bottle from my last road trip, and I opted to buy a small electric blanket as well as a heavy-duty sleeping bag and some proper thermal clothes;

Seating area: I really wanted the bed in the van to be convertible to a couch, as I'd heard from others that it can get a bit annoying if you can only lie down in the back. Luckily mine can do that, and it even has a little table I can stick into the floor :)

There was another van that struck my fancy, or dare I say, I fell in love with a little bit. It was a really nicely converted Toyota Estima, a very popular make and model for backpacker cars over here. However, when I went to test drive it, the battery was miraculously flat, and after a close look at its service reports I couldn't trust that it would be mechanically okay for the trip I wanted to undertake. It broke my heart but I had to let it go. That had been the first one I went to see, so after that it felt like I was back at square one and the search was going to take forever. But then only two days later the deal was struck on Elrond, and suddenly I had my ticket to adventure! He seems a lot more reliable than the Estima, aside from some slightly worn brake pads and a cam belt that might need replacing soon (doesn't it sound like I KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT I can't believe it either). He also needs a new head unit that will hopefully allow me to play music and have a little rear-view camera for tight parking spots. This could possibly take up to a couple of weeks to get sorted.

I'll work on getting it set up a bit more to my liking tomorrow and will probably upload more details soon, but for now I really just wanted to share the big news!! I'm really excited about it, I feel a lot better mentally now that the whole search is behind me and I have a tangible next step. I genuinely can't wait to have it all finished and get it on the road. I drove it home by myself today and even though it was dark outside and I was scared, I managed just fine, and that gave me a huge confidence boost. I really feel like I'm going to be adventuring again, and I'm grateful for this opportunity 🥹

#aotearoa #backpacking #van life

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