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merrybloomwrites · 2 months

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A Podcast Love Story

Summary: The story of Shayne & Y/N, as told through a series of podcasts

AN: This story was inspired by a request from someone that tumblr isn't letting me tag, so that's dumb lol

Also, I tried to follow the actual timeline of when these podcasts were posted but I did take some creative liberty, so some things might not match up with when the were really posted irl

Wordcount: 3.4K

CW: very light mention of smut, talk about pregnancy

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SmoshCast #75 – How Shayne and Courtney Feel About Being Shipped Together

Dating someone who’s in the public eye was not entirely unexpected. You live in Los Angeles after all. When you and Shayne started dating in 2019 you decided to keep it a secret for a while. Neither of you were ready to share your relationship with the Smosh viewers yet.

This became more difficult when you decided to quarantine together in 2020 during the pandemic. Two weeks after he returned from Australia, when you were sure that neither of you had Covid, you packed your necessities and headed to Shayne’s. It was nice being together, but it did get complicated when he needed to film videos.

Sometimes you would go for a walk while he was filming. Other times you would hide in the other room. He’d triple check all his footage before submitting it to make sure you, and any of your belongings, weren’t in frame.

One day, a few months in, he and Courtney are recording an episode of the SmoshCast. He sets up at the small dining table in the corner of the living room. You’re on the couch, meaning you can’t be seen on the camera, but you are in Shayne’s view. It might not have been the smartest decision since you’re now stuck there for the entire time they record, but you have a book and a snack, so you get cozy.

You can only hear Shayne’s side of the conversation, so you’re not fully paying attention. That is, until you hear Shayne say, “If we so much as say hi to each other, Shartney fans poop themselves.” The mention of this ship between him and his castmate has you more focused on the conversation. Not because you’re jealous, because that would be ridiculous, but because all of you find it quite funny how hard the two of them are shipped.

He can’t stop looking over to you for the entire ten-minute segment. It’s subtle, but there’s definitely a connection between the two of you. It’s obvious that he’s reassuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. You especially like when he says, “You can ship me with anything. Ship me with bananas.” And you nearly lose it when he says, “I am begging you, please, make a ship edit of me and Kathy Bates.”

They continue to talk and the conversation steers towards how fans make assumptions based on what they see in videos. Shayne brings up how people were concerned about him for a few weeks at the beginning of quarantine. He starts to explain, “I was very quiet in those early podcasts, but the reason was, one, I was not getting enough sleep. I kept staying up late,” here he looks at you before quickly saying, “playing video games.” You again struggle to keep quiet, knowing that was not the truth. Unless “playing video games” has now become code for “having intimate moments with my girlfriend”.

He continues to talk about how his setup for recording was less than ideal and finishes by saying, “I wasn’t sad at all, I was actually having great days.” Again, you share a quick look, showing that you agree with him about how wonderful it’s been since you started living together.

They wrap up the podcast a little while later and Shayne is officially done with work for the day.

“Playing video games, huh?” you say teasingly.

“Oh yea, totally a pro gamer now,” he replies.

“You think so?” you say with a laugh.

“I mean, I could always use more practice,” he answers as he lifts you from the couch, carrying you to the bedroom.

SmoshCast #85 – American Horror Story: Adulting

A few months later and things are looking better in the world. This means a return to the office for everyone. You’d landed a job at Smosh, working in post-production, so now you and Shayne work together. You were nervous about being around each other all the time, but luckily there’s still a fair amount of the day when you’re apart. Shayne is often filming or in meetings or busy writing, and you spend most of the time at your desk working on the next video.

But sometimes, you get a break to see him. Shayne, Damien, and Coutney are filming a new SmoshCast episode, and you sneak in to watch from the back. The theme is “Adulting”, and they somehow start by talking about how they interact with the younger generation. You can’t help but smile as Shayne talks about his niece, endeared by the relationship he has with her. He also mentions grandchildren, which makes your imagination run away thinking about your future together.

You stay for a little while and just watch your boyfriend. He’s not saying anything crazy, or doing anything special, but you love listening to him give advice. You also love how attentive he is to his friends, how closely he listens to everything they say. When you do go back to your desk you take a moment to think about how lucky you are that this man, with a solid head on his shoulders and more emotional maturity than you’ve ever seen before, is your other half.

Smosh Mouth #5 – Shayne and Y/N Share Their Love Story

“Welcome back to Smosh Mouth, I’m Shayne.”

“And I’m Amanda.”

“And today we have a very special guest. We have my lovely wife, Y/N Topp,” Shayne says, smiling at you as he finished the introduction.

“Hello everyone,” you say into the microphone.

It’s weird being in front of the camera. It’s only happened a few times in the years that you’ve been with Shayne. Even though you also work at Smosh, you’re always behind the scenes. You’ve only really been in videos that highlight the crew, so the focus has rarely been on you.

But today you’re finally sitting down to do a podcast for the channel. They’d just revived the podcast after a nearly three-year hiatus.

So much has happened in your personal life since then. At the time that SmoshCast was airing, your relationship with Shayne was fairly new, and you weren’t ready to share it yet. Within a year of that last episode going live, you two had gotten engaged. This led to you guys getting married, and as of 22 weeks ago, you being pregnant with your first child.

“Well, I for one am very excited to have you here today,” Amanda says. “I cannot wait to grill you on every last detail of your relationship.” You all laugh at that, knowing that while you’re sharing more personal information than you ever have before, no one is going to push you or Shayne too much.

“So,” Amanda continues. “Tell me, how did you meet?”

You look to Shayne, encouraging him to start the story.

“We met in 2019,” he begins. “Someone had recommended a book to me, so I was at the library to pick it up. While I was looking through the shelf Y/N came over and started looking through the section as well. We kind of started at opposite ends and moved to meet in the middle. Turns out we were both looking for the same book.”

“No you were not!” Amanda interjects.

“We really were,” you say to confirm. “We basically have the most cliché meet-cute story.”

“Ya, no kidding! So, what happened next?” she asks.

“Well, I had picked up the book first and noticed Y/N glance at it. So we started talking and I told her she should take the book first and I’d read it when she’s done.”

“And then he very smoothly said he could give me his number so I could tell him when I was returning the book,” you add.

“Look at you,” Amanda says. “Making the bold moves.”

“I had to give it a try,” Shayne says with a laugh.

“And it worked. I texted him a couple weeks later, the day before I returned the book.”

“I didn’t have her number,” Shayne says. “And I was kicking myself for not getting it because waiting to hear from her was pretty torturous I’m not gonna lie. So as soon as she texted about the book I asked her on a date.”

“Which actually shocked me at first. I really though he only was interested in the book.”

“Did you know who he was?” Amanda asks. “Like, had you watched Smosh or seen him on TV before you met?”

“I did know who he was. I had just started watching Smosh, so I recognized him but really didn’t know much about him.”

“Did you start watching old videos and try to get to know more about him after you met? Or after he asked you out?”

“I tried not to. I wanted to get to know him naturally, not through videos online. But there was a video posted after he asked me out but before our date called ‘Why We’re Bad at Dating’ and I couldn’t resist. And I truly think it helped us hit it off on that first date.”

“How so?” Amanda inquires.

Shayne takes that question, saying, “In the episode I talked about what I do on dates that kind of lead to there not being a second date. And Y/N/N called me out on that.”

You chime in, adding, “He said he puts on a ‘CW’ version of himself. I told him not to do that. And I admitted to being just as anxious about the date as he was so we should just forget the pressure and hang out and get to know each other.”

“Well, that’s adorable,” Amanda says. “So obviously you started dating and kept dating. When did you take the next step?”

Shayne takes this question and says, “I asked her to be my girlfriend a couple months later. And then we moved in together shortly after the start of the pandemic. Which was slightly challenging when it came to filming at home for Smosh since we wanted to keep the relationship a secret for a while.”

“Yea, how in the world did you make that work?”

“We were very, very careful,” you say. “I definitely hid in the bathroom more than once to stay out of frame.” At this you all laugh, and you add, “Totally worth it, though.”

“Ok, next juicy question. Shayne, how did you propose?”

“So, I hired a sky writer,” he says before laughing and continuing, “No, just kidding. We’d been dating for a year and a half, living together for almost a year at the time. We rented a cabin in Colorado for a few days and on the second day we went on a hike. Packed a picnic, did the whole thing. And I uh, I proposed at the top of the mountain.”

“You guys are literally a romcom,” Amanda quips.

“Would a romcom do a hike proposal? I feel like they’re always at fancy restaurant or the beach. Or like, yelling ‘Will you marry me?’ As the girl walks away down a street in the pouring rain,” you say.

“Oh, a hike proposal is very Lifetime or Hallmark.”

“Good point, it’s totally been in at least one of those movies.”

“Did you like that it was on a hike?” Amanda asks.

“Yea, Y/N/N, did you like it?” Shayne says, pretending to be truly concerned and worried about your answer.

“Hated it,” you say jokingly. “No, honestly, I loved it. Shayne and I always bonded over how much we love nature, so it was perfect for us. I can’t imagine it being any other way. I know a lot of girls want to make sure their nails are done so they get that perfect ring picture, which totally fine, not judging at all. But it definitely felt right that I literally had dirt under my nails and scrapes on my palms from slipping up the hill. Much more authentic that way.”

“And the wedding, anything you want to share about it?” Amanda asks.

“We actually got married in New Mexico,” you say. “It was the central spot for both our families. It was last April, so, beautiful weather during the day. And we lucked out that the temperature didn’t drop too much at night.”

“Very nice,” Amanda replies. “Shayne, anything to add?”

“We kept it pretty small, just family, and close friends. I feel like it was a very typical wedding, but it was ours, you know? So, it was special.” Shayne blushes and you know that your wedding day means more to him than he’s letting on. And that’s fine with you. It was a private event, and even though you’re sharing your relationship now, neither of you want to give away too much about your wedding.

“Aw, he’s getting red,” Amanda jokes. “Did you go on a honeymoon?”

“We did. We went to Hawaii. Neither of us had been before so we knew it would be special for us. We wanted to experience something new together,” you answer.

“Cute!” she replies. “Now, dedicated fans know you guys are together, know you’re married and all that. But there is some news you two have to share that no one knows, is that correct?”

“That’s right,” Shayne says. He looks at you, silently asking if you want to say it. But you can tell he’s bursting to tell everyone, so you give him a nod to continue.

“Y/N and I are having a baby,” he says.

“Hell yea you are! Smosh baby!” Amanda cheers. “Congratulations to you both! Y/N, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty good right now. I’m in the second trimester so my morning sickness is mostly gone, thank god. We’re very excited, got some classes we’re planning to take and we’re reading all the books so I’m sure we will still be extremely unprepared,” you say with a laugh.

“If there’s anyone I trust to figure it out and be great parents, it’s the two of you,” Amanda replies earnestly.

“Thank you, Amanda,” Shayne says.

The podcast continues with Amanda continuing to ask questions and you and Shayne sharing more stories about your time together.

You wrap up recording by mid-afternoon. You have an appointment with your doctor scheduled and since it’s so close to the end of the day, Shayne was also given time off to join you. Everything goes well and as he drives you both home you can’t help but be grateful that the two of you were brought together.

Smosh Reads Reddit Stories: Office Nightmares

It’s been a month and a half since recording your episode of SmoshMouth, and three weeks since it aired. The news that you and Shayne are expecting a baby spread faster than anything you’d experienced before. You’d both received messages of congratulations from more people than you had ever expected: from Smosh fans to Disney fans, and even Goldbergs fans. You never imagined the amount of support you’d receive.

You had the morning off for yet another checkup with your doctor. You get back to the office early, but technically you’re still scheduled to be off, so you opt to sit in as they record the next Reddit Story video/podcast. It’s one of your favorite series currently, and you love listening to Shayne read all the stories.

He begins the third story, reading the title, “Am I the asshole for telling my wife that I’m not taking off of work to be present at our daughters’ birth?”

They joke around for a bit, and then he dives into the story, reading how the man explains that he couldn’t take off work cause there’s a project and they need him there. The wife finds out that’s a lie, and it mad that he didn’t take time off. He says he wants to work more so they’d have more money after the birth, and that the baby wouldn’t even remember him being there. He finishes by saying he doesn’t know why it’s such a big deal to be there at the birth, and even blames the wife’s hormones for her being upset about it.

Shayne, along with Spencer and Tommy begin to share their thoughts on the story. You smile and nod as Shayne makes the point of, “He keeps saying the baby’s not gonna remember, but you’re fucking wife will!”

They even give reasons why they’d understand him not being there, with Tommy saying, “If they were really desperate for cash then I’d get it,” and Spencer saying he’d understand if he were terrified of being around childbirth.

The boys then look over to you and Spencer says, “Y/N, you’re pregnant, how do you feel about this story?”

“Yea,” Tommy adds, “would you kill Shayne if he did this?”

“Oh, for sure!” you call out.

“C’mere,” Shayne says. “You’re probably the one most qualified to give an opinion here.”

You look to Kiana who’s directing the video and she gives you a nod, so you walk onto the set and stand behind Shayne, leaning down so your face is next to his and your voice will get picked up on his microphone.

“What are you’re thoughts on this?” Tommy asks.

“You guys definitely made a lot of great points. I mean, childbirth is terrifying, and I keep trying to ignore the fact that I do have to actually, you know, birth a human. But I know that Shayne will be there and is studying to be the best support person. I mean, he’s read enough books about it, I think he could deliver the baby himself if necessary,” you say with a laugh.

“I will add, if this was the father of my child, I’d wonder what he actually deems important. Because this is arguably one of the biggest days of everyone’s life. First of all, it should be important to him. It’s literally his child entering the world. It’s a privilege to be one of the first people that baby will ever meet. And then, what will be a big enough deal for him to take off work in the future? Baby’s not gonna remember her first birthday, is he gonna go to that? She has a dance recital at three years old, is he going to think that’s silly and not go?”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that, but it makes sense,” Spencer replies. “He definitely seems to have his priorities and being there for his family isn’t one.”

“I truly cannot imagine not being there when our kid is born,” Shayne says. “My worst fear would be if something kept me from being there.”

“Because you’re a good person,” Tommy says bluntly, and everyone laughs.

You head back off camera as they continue on.

After a few more stories Shayne begins another entry, titled, “And I the asshole for eating the last doughnut before my pregnant coworker could have one?” He looks at you once he reads it and laughs before saying, “Y/N’s face says, yes absolutely you are.”

He reads the story which explains that the young employee ate his allotted two doughnuts, and when the pregnant coworker didn’t show up after half an hour, he ate her two as well. She gets there shortly after and explains she had car trouble and is upset to see everyone had a treat but didn’t save her any. Later, the boss pulls aside the employee to tell him he’d been rude to his coworker.

After he finishes the post the boys discuss the etiquette of eating communal snacks in the office before Shayne says, “Also, if there is one thing I know, it’s that you never mess with a pregnant woman’s food unless you want to die.” You laugh so loudly at this that you know for sure the mics picked it up from across the room.

“Y/N, anything to add?” Spencer says.

You walk over again and state, “Listen, all I’m say is that I’m mad you guys are just talking about doughnuts when we don’t have any. Cause cravings are a bitch and now I am literally not going to stop thinking about doughnuts until I get one.”

After moving offscreen you realize you need to pee, again, so you leave the studio to head to the bathroom. Once you’re out of the room Shayne says, “Hey Kiana, can I have my phone a second?”

“Why do you need your phone?” Spencer asks.

“I gotta doordash some doughnuts.”

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AN: Thanks for reading! Let me know if you have any requests for Shayne stories!

Taglist: @american-girl001 @tatumrileyslover @queenofcaradelle @1nkm0nster

#shayne topp x reader

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter two: covid & carbonara

summary: in a time of isolation, you and carmy find unexpected connection in unexpected places: each other. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, mentions of covid-19/the pandemic, eventual smut.

word count: 4k

listen to: hot sugar - glass animals | hard to live in the city - albert hammond jr. | alone together - del water gap | foreign girls - bleachers

read: chapter one

March 2020:

“Carmy, can you hear me now?” you ask, listening carefully for his response.

“Yeah hold on. Wifi’s shit in this room,” he mumbles. You hear a rustle of sounds and the picture on your phone goes blurry for a second. This is just something you’ve come to accept is a part of your life now as you wait.

Suddenly, the picture is clear again and it looks like Carmy’s in his living room now. He wears a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants as he tries to get comfy on the shitty sofa in his Flatiron apartment.

“Ok there we go. I gotta-, yeah, I can hear you now,” he says, finally settling in.

“How are you?” you ask as you grow more sure that you’re going to be able to talk now. “It’s good to see your face.”

“Yeah, no uh. It’s good to see you too,” he replies. “Shit’s so weird right now, huh?”

“Totally,” you agree. “So… what’ve you been up to? I mean… how are you spending your time?”

He sighs, shaking his head, as if to say that he barely knows how to answer that question. He thinks it over before answering with:

“I don’t know. Workin’ on some recipes. Tryin’ not to lose my fuckin’ head. You?”

“Same,” you commiserate. “Though… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been enjoying some of the down time, you know?”

He couldn’t agree less.

Carmy tells you about the recipes he’s working on. You share with him the plot of the show you’re binge watching right now. He tells you he hasn’t really been in touch with family much and you let him know that you’ve been running errands for your parents where you can. It’s a fairly normal conversation for a very uncertain and strange time, but it brings you comfort – talking to Carmy.

You talk about the state of the restaurant industry. The state of the world. The two of you wonder when the restaurant might open back up – if they’ll consider doing to-go’s. He’s not sure and neither are you.

It’s almost two hours later when you realize your phone is dying, and that somehow, time has flown as the two of you have been talking.

“Shit, uh. My phone’s dying. I may have to go,” you say remorsefully.

“Oh yeah! No problem,” Carmy replies, almost apologetically. “And I uh, if I get in touch with the people at World Central Kitchen, I’ll let you know. I’m sure they can always use more chefs and volunteers.”

“No, that’d be great. Uh… before I go,” you start, knowing that you want to tell him this. “I just wanted to say… I’m glad we did this.”

“Yeah me too,” he agrees, and you can tell he means it.

“Maybe… we do it again? Keep each other company… you know. Virtually?” you propose, hopefully.

“Yeah,” Carmy half smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And as the pandemic drags on, you find yourself FaceTiming with Carmy more and more. Once a week turns into once a week and a consistent exchange of texts. He shares with you the recipes he’s working on. You bounce ideas around with him on dishes he feels stuck on. You send him silly memes and TikToks, even though he refuses to get an account himself. Once a week turns into twice a week, and then phone calls, and soon enough, you don’t go a day without talking to Carmy in some capacity.

You’re not sure how you’ve done it but you think that maybe you and Carmy just might be friends.

May 2020:

“Thanks so much for all the help guys. It means a lot. Especially having two chefs of your caliber,” the volunteer coordinator says, addressing both you and Carmy.

“Listen, we’re just happy to be a part of something right now. With so much going on… it’s hard to know where to begin helping,” you reply with gratitude. You’re genuinely thankful that you’ve been able to be a part of World Central Kitchen’s COVID relief efforts, and you know Carmy feels the same.

“We’ll see you guys next Friday?” the volunteer coordinator asks.

“Heard,” Carmy answers, thanking the coordinator one more time before the two of you leave the building.

Around the corner, there’s a bench that the two of you find. It’s an easy choice to sit down – neither of you are quite ready to go home yet. You sit on opposite sides before removing your masks as Carmy pulls out a pack of marlboros.

“You want one?” he asks you, holding out the pack.

“Yeah,” you agree, taking one from him at a distance. You watch him light up, before handing you the lighter he keeps in his jean jacket pocket.

It’s nice to take a moment to pause. Between the chaos of being in a kitchen again to the chaos of the world around you, it feels good to smoke a fucking cigarette on a street corner with the man that’s so unexpectedly become your friend. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the sounds of the city, each others’ company, and your fuckin’ cancer sticks.

You break the silence between the two of you, letting out the smallest chuckle.

“What?” Carmy asks you, your laugh garnering his attention.

“It’s just… it’s almost funny,” you say, continuing your giggle.

“What?” he asks you again, a look of amusement on his face. He can’t imagine what must be so funny.

“Just… seeing you here… Mr. Fine Dining…makin’ sandwiches,” you tease playfully. “Thought you were too fancy-pants for that.”

“Fuck off,” he rolls his eyes playfully, sucking on his cigarette as he inhales. You laugh again as he shakes his head, shooting you another look.

He takes his time, exhaling the smoke out in the opposite direction, before addressing your playful remarks.

“Nah. It uh-, actually reminds me of my family’s place a little. Back home,” he shares with you.

It catches you off guard. Carmy rarely ever talks about home, let alone his family.

“Yeah?” you ask curiously, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod, before placing the cigarette back in between his lips.

To your disappointment, you realize that’s all he’s planning to share. You resign yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette as the two of you smoke to the sounds of the city. After a long shift at the volunteer kitchen, your exhaustion begins to catch up with you. It’s been a few months since you’ve had to stand for that long, and as exhilarating as it’s been, you can feel the fatigue in your back and your feet already.

“So… I was thinkin’ about something,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you.

You angle your body towards him before asking, “What’s that?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.”

He’s suddenly shy, and your eyes flicker over his cheeks that have turned a darker shade of red than they were before.

“Carmy, what is it?” you ask, leaning towards him, now intrigued.

He avoids your gaze before he replies, “Nah. Nevermind. It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not! What is it?” you continue to press him.

You’re not going to let this go.

“I shouldn't've said anything.”

He sighs, taking one more drag of his cigarette before leaning forward and tossing it on the ground. His left foot hovers over the cigarette butt as he stamps it out, his forearms resting on his legs as he finally turns to you again.

“I don’t know how you feel about it, and you can totally say no because like… shit’s still fucked, you know but-,” he starts, shyly. Was Carmy about to ask you out?

He pauses, his eyes scanning the pavement beneath his feet before saying, “It’s just-, I’m not like, seeing anyone else in person. Except you.”

“Yeah, no me either,” you agree.

Where was this going?

“Would you maybe wanna-?” he asks, before trailing off, his piercing blue eyes so intense it feels like he’s looking right through you. He nods towards the kitchen before continuing with, “... see each other in person. Like outside of here. As long as we’re being safe you know?”

You nod, quick to put the poor man at ease, and only a little intrigued as to why it was so difficult for him to ask you that.

“Yeah no. I’m not seeing anyone else in person either. And at this point if we had COVID, we’d probably already have exposed each other, right?” you reply.

“Yeah,” he answers.

“Yeah, I’d be down. To… you know. Maybe move some of our FaceTimes… in person, if that’s what you mean,” you agree, a smile on your face.

You’re not sure what you expected, but you weren’t expecting for Carmy to ask you to become his quarantine buddy – even if you’d already kind of been doing it anyways.

“Cool,” he says, taking a breath.

You can tell that it was a big deal for him – to ask you that – even if he doesn’t want to show it.

“Can I walk you home?” he asks.

You smile in return, “Yeah. And if you’re feeling wild… we can… pick something up on the way there. You can come up and hang.”

“No, yeah. That uh-, that sounds great,” he replies, something softer in his eyes this time. “If you don’t mind. I mean-, if you want the company-.”

“Oh shut up, Berzatto,” you roll your eyes at him. You shoot him a look, even though you’re kind of loving this softer side of him.

“I wouldn’t have offered, if I didn’t.”

July 2020:

Carmen Berzatto becomes an unexpected yet pleasantly surprising part of your support system, and your COVID-pod. It’s hard to believe that less than a year ago, you thought the man absolutely hated you. He’s still the hot and cold, emotionally turbulent man you met last October, and he’s also become your friend. You’ve learned that he can be soft, that he’s terribly uncomfortable in any and all social situations, and that he’s the most single-minded, driven, obsessed motherfucker you’ve ever met.

By now, the restaurant has pivoted and reopened for to-gos only. It’s nothing like the fine dining establishment it was before. You’re only open Thursday to Sunday and it’s a much more family style, to-go kit sort of operation these days: to-go cocktail kits, to-go curated menus, to-go assemble your own dishes at home.

It’s strange. And it’s a strange time for all of you.

You’re finished with your shift today, ready to head home and spend the next three days off. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get three days off in a row once all of this is over, so you’ve decided that you’re just going to embrace the slower lifestyle right now. You’ve been more creative in this chapter of your life than you can remember.

“So you layin’ it down for Carmy or what?” a voice asks, jolting you from your thoughts.

“Excuse me?” you snap, turning your head to a very smug looking Nate Walker, stripping off his face mask.

“What the fuck, man?” Tim exclaims, as he’s changing back into his street shoes. “Not okay to say.”

“What?” Nate defends himself. “I’m just wondering who I have to thank. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen the boss man.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Really nice, Nate.”

You shake your head, before slinging your backpack over your right arm, exchanging a look with Tim.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Carmy and I are just friends,” you correct. “Ever think that some time off has been good for all of us and that’s why Carmy’s been chill?”

“‘S not like we’re working at the same capacity we used to be. I think it’s been good for him,” Tim chimes in, trying to offer you a little backup.

“Sure,” Nate replies, unconvinced.

“What’s it to you anyways, Walker?” Tim asks, putting the spotlight on his coworker.

“Nothin’,” Nate replies, defensively. “Just noticed you guys spendin’ a lot of time together lately. Besides, the guy could use a good lay.”

“You’re a child,” you snap with an eye roll. You slide your left arm into the other strap of your backpack, ready to leave. “Now if we’re done with the girl talk, I’m going home.”

As you begin to walk away, you can hear Nate defending himself as Tim points out how inappropriate it was for him to say that to you. You’re grateful for people like Tim, because you’re not sure that Nate would listen to anyone else lower in the French brigade system – let alone a woman.

“We still on for tomorrow?” Carmy asks you, as you're on your way out. He’s still in his chef whites because, as the both of you know, he’s going to be the last person to leave. A smile spreads across your face as soon as you see him.

That’s right. You’re spending your day off tomorrow with him.

“Yeah,” you smile with a nod.

“Mine or yours?” he asks.

You shoot him a look – a ‘I know you haven’t cleaned up your place’ kind of look.

“Mine,” you reply.

“Sweet. There’s a cool market nearby I wanted to check out. I’ll pick somethin’ up on the way,” he says back.

“Heard.”

You wait a beat before adding, “Try not to work too hard, chef.”

He likes that you’re looking out for him.

He smiles, “Heard.”

As much as you’ve tried not to let Nate Walker get to you, you can’t stop thinking about what he said the day before. Did people think you and Carmy were sleeping together? Did the whole staff think you were trying to sleep your way to the top? Your mind races, and you notice the anxious feelings you have have settled deep in your chest. Carmy moves around your kitchen, intentionally, and while you’d like to enjoy how happy he looks when he cooks for fun, you can’t seem to shut off your brain.

“You sure I can’t help? I went to culinary school too, yknow?” you ask, trying to put on your best lighthearted tone.

“Nah,” he dismisses, pulling together a sauce in one of the glass bowls you keep in your kitchen for prep.

As Carmy steals a glance your way, he’s surprised to find that whatever weight it seems you were carrying when he first walked in, hasn’t gone away. He returns his focus to the stovetop, shaking the stainless clad frying pan that holds his precisely-cut lardons.

“What’s up?” he asks you, keeping his back to you.

“Uh… nothing,” you reply, trying your best to shake it off.

He knows you’re lying, and he turns to look at you again, more intently this time. Your lips are pressed together in a thin line and there’s a new tension knitted between your brows that’s not normally there. As much as you’re trying not to let it get to you, your face betrays you and he knows that something’s been bothering you all day. He shoots you an unconvinced look and you sigh in defeat.

Since when had Carmy learned what that look meant.

“Just-, you’re gonna think it’s dumb,” you start, almost embarrassed that you have to bring this up to him.

“What’s up?” he asks, patiently.

You shrug, “Just something that Nate said yesterday’s been… bothering me, I guess.”

He rolls his eyes, letting out a dry laugh as he asks you, “Well Nate’s a dick. What’d he say?”

“I-, I don’t know if I should tell you,” you admit hesitantly.

“Why?” he asks, a pang of nerves hitting him right in the gut.

You wait a beat, trying to figure out how best to convey what Nate said without freaking Carmy out.

“He uh… he kind of… suggested that everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?” you say cautiously, your voice going up at the end of the sentence, almost as if it were a question.

“Oh,” is all Carmy manages to get out.

“Yeah,” you exhale.

“Well, we’re not,” Carmy replies, simply.

Right.

“Right,” you agree.

You’re surprised by the feeling of disappointment that wells in your chest in response to Carmy’s reply. This had been eating away at you and for him to shut it down so quickly – like it was that simple – doesn’t quite make sense to you.

Maybe it’s because men never bear the burden of an inappropriate workplace relationship, not that you’re having one with Carmy, but you know it’d be a bigger cost to you than it’d ever be for him.

“I just…” you start, beginning to understand why it’s bothering you so much. “Do you think… like is it a problem that we’re hanging out? I mean, you are kind of my boss and… I don’t know. I guess we never really talked about the ethical implications of… you know. Us. Being friends. And also working together.”

Friends.

Right.

Maybe because it’s because he’s never really had friends, let alone a girlfriend, that catches Carmy off guard.

You’re just friends, motherfucker, Carmy thinks to himself.

It’s like he’d almost forgotten.

Perhaps it’s the isolation – the way of the world right now – but he’s never thought about what you were to him. Ever since the two of you had decided to start spending time together, it had been you and him against a very scary and uncertain world. Carmy’s surprised to find that, hearing it said aloud, friends, leaves him with a feeling of dissatisfaction – like the word friend didn’t quite describe the way he felt about you.

But he’s terrified to think about what that could mean. That anything else would probably scare you away – push you out of his life – and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let that happen right now.

Because he likes this too much.

Because he likes who he is when he’s with you.

Because you’re all he has.

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind for another time, because right now, you’re sitting right in front of him, and he’s got a problem to solve for you.

“As long as we’re professional in the kitchen… I don’t see why it should be a problem,” he says.

You’re not sure how it seems so simple for him, because it doesn’t feel this simple for you.

“Yeah, no. I-, I agree,” you lie.

Carmy returns to what he’s doing, and you accept that that’s probably the full conversation that you’re going to have with him. At least right now. You watch as he continues to cook, pulling together the sauce as he tosses the pasta and cheese in your frying pan. You open up your phone, scrolling through a few social media posts to try your best to get your mind off of your worries as Carmy finishes up in your kitchen.

It’s not long before he’s returned to your small dining table. You set your phone down, watching as he approaches you.

“I remember you mentioning that it’s hard to find a good carbonara so uh… thought I’d make you one,” he says confidently. Carmy hands you bowl containing a perfectly twirled nest of spaghetti, along with a fork he’d gotten from your kitchen.

“How do I know it’s gonna be up to my standards?” you challenge him playfully.

He shoots you a ‘don’t play with me’ kind of look and you giggle in response. You exchange glances with Carmy before messing up the perfectly plated nest by digging your fork into it.

“Make sure you get a little bit of everything,” he reminds you. He watches as you twirl the spaghetti around your fork, making sure to scoop up a bit of crispy guanciale. You lift the fork to your mouth before taking a bite, your eyes closing as the salty, cheesy, bite hits your tongue.

It’s perfect.

“Holy fuck,” you practically moan in response to your first bite. You open your eyes and he smiles back at you, proud of the response he’s earned from you. Your face twists into a look that falls somewhere between ‘this is so good I’m angry and hello, I’ve reached nirvana.’

“This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude,” you say, as you continuing processing the most perfect carbonara you’ve ever had in your life.

“No offense taken,” he says.

You shake your head at him, “Best carbonara ever.”

September 2020:

“So we go upstate, and we’re searching for outdoor activities we can do, you know, safely, at a distance, with masks on. And we end up at this goat farm,” Maya says, describing her and her fiance’s last few months spent in upstate New York.

“...Was the goat named Milo?” Carmy asks, a humorous tone to his question.

“Carmy!” you exclaim with a laugh, shooting him a look.

“What?” he asks back.

Both Liz, Maya, and her fiance Patrick send you questioning looks.

“I-, it’s an inside joke,” you explain, shaking your head once again in response to Carmy’s very silly interjection.

“Anyways, it’s so nice to be back in the city. Seriously, Liz, thanks for organizing this,” Maya continues.

“Oh, I’m kind of getting really into this whole cute picnic thing actually,” she replies, in reference to the picnic she’s organized for the five of you. “Plus, the to-go picnic kit has been killing at the restaurant. Thanks for letting me run with that, chef.”

“No, yeah. You’re killin’ it. It was a great idea,” Carmy compliments.

The five of you spend time in the park, catching up and enjoying time spent in person for the first time in a long time. You, Liz, and Carmy have been back at work, pushing through, what will hopefully be, the last month or so in the to-go only business at the restaurant. As the sun begins to come down, you all agree that it’s time to pack it up and go home. You’ve begun to collect all of the trash in a brown paper bag as Carmy offers to take it.

“You sure?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers.

As he takes a walk, in search of the nearest trash can, your friends are immediately on you about whatever the hell it is that you and Carmy are doing.

“So what I’m hearing is… you talk every day, you have inside jokes together, and you’re basically quarantining together. How are you trying to tell us that this man is not your boyfriend?!” Maya exclaims. Her partner shrugs in agreement.

“I know that what Nate said was hella inappropriate, but he’s not wrong… that this is the most I’ve seen him relaxed in… maybe since we met him,” Liz adds in as your friends make their case.

“He seems into you,” Patrick offers.

“I-,” you start, knowing you don’t have much time before Carmy returns. “I don’t know. All I know is… I like what we have. And right now, we’re friends so.”

“God, you’re so good at it,” Maya sighs.

“What?” you ask, looking from her to Liz as they exchange glances.

The both turn to you, before saying in unison, “Compartmentalizing!”

Patrick holds his hands up as he says, “I’m gonna stay out of this one.”

“You ready to go?” Carmy asks, rejoining you and your friends.

You can practically feel Liz and Maya staring at you.

“Yeah,” you reply to Carmy.

You say your goodbyes before going your separate ways, and Maya swears when Carmy isn’t listening that you’re not done talking about this. It’s just been you and Carmy for so long that you hadn’t thought about what it might look like to other people. Now that things were slowly reopening… you were beginning to get more questions, and maybe, you were beginning to have more questions too.

But the last time you’d tried to bring up any conversation about your relationship with Carmy, he’d shut it down and distracted you with the best carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. Not that you were complaining, definitely not, but you were hesitant to bring it up any time soon. As Carmy looks at you, there’s something about the way you look against the backdrop of the city, the setting sun, and the sparkling lights, that catches him off guard. He’s not ready to part ways with you yet.

“Can I walk you home?” Carmy offers, hopefully.

“Sure,” you nod.

read chapter three

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos

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beautification-tales · 1 month

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The Flight part 1

An Outbreak Story

Holly had always wondered what it felt like to be on a yacht. The white, billowing sails stretched taut against the blue sky, the sea breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean. As she stepped onto the luxurious vessel, her eyes darted around, taking in the gleaming teak deck, the shiny fiberglass hull, and the well-appointed cabins. She couldn't help but marvel at the sheer extravagance that surrounded her.

She walked confidently on the deck ready to sunbathe her bright blue bikini hugging her curves. As she stretched out on one of the plush loungers, she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. A cool breeze ruffled her hair, and she closed her eyes, letting the peaceful sounds of the ocean lull her into a state of relaxation. She felt a tap on her shoulder and opened her eyes. Standing before her was the yacht's owner, a handsome, middle-aged man dressed casually in khaki shorts and a polo shirt.

"Hey baby." he asked with a warm smile. "You are looking magnificent as always." Holly smiled as she arched her back looking up at him. “Babe, what did I say about wearing khaki shorts? You’re a millionaire and this is your ship. Now take them off sailor.” He chuckled and started to unbutton his shorts. She watched as they fell to the deck revealing his tan, muscular legs. He climbed onto the lounger next to her and propped himself up on one elbow.

“Did you hear the news about the outbreak?” The man asked in a woman’s voice. “Huh? What outbreak?” Holly shook her head as the man became fuzzy. She closed her eyes and opened them again. A black haired flight attendant was standing in front of her in the galley. She pulled her phone out and showed the story to Holly. Holly sighed as she realized she was no longer in her fantasy but back on her shift on the international flight. Holly held Lucy’s phone and read the article. Holly nervously bit her nails and wiped her uniform off as she read. “It says it’s airborne already.” Holly groaned. “I can’t do another Covid!” She handed the phone back to good friend Lucy.

“Yeah! But it’s like a weird disease. Some people get really sick but others….” Lucy trailed off not knowing how to explain it. “Others.. what Lucy?” Holly asked, her voice tense. “Well they change but it’s like hard to believe what I was reading.” Lucy said nervously, looking around the galley. Holly nodded, feeling a chill run down her spine. They both knew they had to focus on their jobs, but the news was hard to ignore. Holly bit her nails again before asking. “You think it might have reached Australia yet?” Holly asked as they had just left the country on their way to L.A.

Lucy shrugged, looking worried. They both knew it was only a matter of time before they found out. In the meantime, they had to go back to their duties. Holly attended to the first class passengers as she eyed the middle aged man reading from his paper. “Sir?” she said politely, trying to catch his attention. The man looked up from his screen, his blue eyes meeting hers. He smiled warmly.

“Umm, is there anything I can get you, sir? Another drink? A snack perhaps?" Holly asked, trying to catch his attention. The man shook his head, his smile never wavering. "No, thank you, Holly. I'm just catching up on some work here. You know how it is." He chuckled, and she couldn't help but smile back. "Of course, sir. I'm here if you need anything."

Holly brought the cart back to the galley as she found Lucy sitting reading from her phone. Holly wanting to distract Lucy brought up a new subject. “Hey did you see the guy in L6?” She asked, motioning to the business class section of the plane. Lucy nodded, looking up from her phone. “Yeah that’s Brent Book he owns that new tech company. Heard he was a real playboy back in the day. Not bad for his age though, huh? I wonder what he does on these flights...." Holly grinned, imagining the possibilities.

“I bet he still flies commercial because he has a thing for flight attendants.” Holly winked, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. She glanced over at the man in question, wondering what it would be like to be with someone like that. Holly was a sweet competent flight attendant but desired the life Lucy and many of her colleagues had. Holly was a bit average looking and her friends like Lucy got all the attention. Lucy was always glued to her phone because she had over 100 k followers on TikTok. Lucy would brag and show off the hundreds of DM’s she received as Holly read them with envy. Rich businessman and eligible bachelors would take her on amazing dates as Holly spent nights alone in her hotel.

“Oh yeah?” Lucy said as she got up from her bucket seat. “Let’s see if I can get his number.” Lucy adjusted her stockings and breasts as she walked into business class pretending to check on passengers. Lucy reached Brent’s seat and leaned down with a seductive look. Holly looked on with jealousy as Brent laughed and talked with Lucy.

A bell went off and it was a passenger in economy in . “Just great.” Hollly grumbled as she put on her fake smile and went to help them. As she reached the passenger she saw he was shivering and sweating at the same time. His face was pale as he rubbed his shoulders. “How can I help you?” Holly asked, her brow furrowed with concern. “Yes, I’m feeling really cold all of a sudden. Can I get a blanket?” The man asked, his voice barely a whisper. Holly nodded and went to get him a blanket from the galley. As she returned the man coughed in his hand as Holly leaned over to hand him the blanket. The man sneezed violently as fluid hit Holly’s face. “Are you ok sir? Are you feeling sick?” Holly asked, her face now inches from his. “No, so sorry about that. I am just feeling cold. Thank you for the blanket.”

Holly and Lucy exchanged stories when they met in the back again. “So he said he doesn’t go on TikTok but he has one for his company.” Lucy explained. Holly nodded, a little disappointed. Holly continued to wipe her face. “You are so lucky Lucy. You got to flirt with an almost billionaire while I was in the bathroom rinsing snot off my face. Ew I can still feel it. I think some got into my eyes.” She said, rubbing her face with a tissue.

“Yuck…. What if he’s infected?” Lucy whispered, her eyes wide with fear. “ Don’t you fucking go there Lucy!” Holly snapped, her tone harsher than she intended. They both looked at each other, Lucy heard a notification ping from her phone. “Oh my God! His company is following me now! Look!” She showed Holly her phone, Brent Book's company was now following her on TikTok. Holly couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. “Aaagh fuck your TikTok Lucy!” She yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. “Ok? Rude!” Lucy snapped back, crossing her arms. Holly went to her bucket seat as Lucy did the same. Holly began biting her nails as she read about the outbreak on her phone.

The captain's voice came over the intercom, announcing that the flight was halfway over The Pacific Ocean on target for L.A. Holly glanced at the clock, her heart racing. She couldn't shake the thought of the sick man from her mind. Lucy seemed to be oblivious to her friend's distress, busily engrossed in her phone, seeing if any celebrities slid into her DM’s. Holly felt sleepy as she felt her eyes closing.

It was two hours later that Holly woke up in a sweat. She felt her throat was dry and she was shivering uncontrollably. She glanced around and saw that Lucy was fast asleep, oblivious to her friend's distress. Holly struggled to sit up, her head throbbing with pain. As she grabbed a bottle she guzzled it all in seconds. It was then she heard a ping from business class. She forced herself to stand, her legs wobbly, and walked unsteadily to the curtain. Holly felt a bit woozy and heavy. She approached Brent who was deep in his phone. “Can I help you sir?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah Lucy, I was looking at your TikTok and…” Brent finally looked up and adjusted his glasses. “I’m so sorry you’re not Lucy.” He said, his face flushed.

“No, I can get her for you.” Holly said, her voice barely audible. She felt dizzy and her vision was starting to blur. Brent looked at her strangely. He sat up and said. “No, that’s ok but what’s your name?” Holly forced a smile. “Holly sir.” Brent gave a confused look. “Really? I could have sworn there was another flight attendant named Holly on this flight. I haven’t met you. Are you an influencer like Lucy?” Holly felt confused as he noticed Brent looked a bit uncomfortable as his hands were in his lap.

“Umm are you ok Mr. Book?” Holly asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and it seemed to intensify the more she stared. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and she could see his face get red at her question. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine and please call me Brent.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but it came out a little strained.

Holly quickly glanced down at Brent’s hands and could see that he was covering a bulge. She could feel her face heat up and her heart start to race. She knew what was causing that bulge, and it made her even more nervous. "Of course, Brent. Is there anything I can get you?” she asked, trying not to stare at his pants. “Not right now but I have a feeling I might need assistance later.” He winked at her, making her blush even deeper. She quickly looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

Holly walked quickly to the galley. Lucy was still dozing away. Holly rushed into the bathroom and almost squealed at what she saw. The woman in the reflection was completely different. She was looking at this stunning blonde woman in her uniform. The hair was a bit disheveled but her body was slightly bigger. She looked down and fully realized how her bust was more pronounced. She reached and cupped her right breast, feeling the weight of it. "Oh momma like," she thought with a sly smile. She noticed her nail bitten fingernails were gone replaced by red nails that matched her red lips.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She remembered Brent’s reaction at seeing her. She smiled “So this is what it’s like being hot!” she thought to herself. As she continued to explore her new curves, she noticed something else. There was a strange tingling sensation between her legs. She had never experienced anything like it before. She couldn't help but wonder what it was and if it had anything to do with what was happening to her.

Holly left the galley with a bottle of water in her hand. She made it to Brent’s seat and took the cap off the bottle. “Hey, I thought you could use some water. Oh no! I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy!” Holly had dropped a few drops onto the crotch of Brent. He jumped a little in his seat but smiled at Holly. “It’s ok… not a big deal really. It’s not that much…” he said, trying to be polite. “No this is my fault! Let me help you clean up.” She quickly ran and got a towel as she began dabbing at Brent’s stain. “It’s ok.. I think it should …ungh.” Brent groaned as Holly knelt in the aisle and began rubbing at his crotch. Brent’s eyes widened as he looked at Holly’s sensual focused face. “Don’t worry Mr. Book. I’ll have you cleaned up in no time.” Her words were dripping with confidence. Holly laid the towel down as she continued to rub at Brent’s crotch.

She looked up at him and smiled, "Like I said. It was my fault so I need to take care of it.” Brent’s became red as he realized what was actually happening. He looked down her cleavage and licked his lips. “Oh no. I think it may have reached your boxers. Let me help you.” Holly said as she leaned over even more to get a closer look. She unbuckled his pants as Brent attempted to stop her. “Shhh, let me do my job.” She whispered, seductively. As she pulled down his boxers, Brent gasped, revealing his throbbing arousal. Holly looked up at him with a wicked grin.

She grasped his member as he shivered. He covered his mouth not wanting to wake the other passengers. Holly continued to stroke him, her grip firm and confident. She leaned closer and whispered, "I know just how to take care of this." Brent's heart raced as she increased her speed. Brent grabbed onto the sides of his seat as the pleasure was immense. “Ungh fuck!” He cried as he could feel himself close to release.

As she continued, Brent felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He tried to hold back, but it was no use. Holly could feel him twitching and knew what was coming soon. Brent erupted as almost a river of cum shot out of his cock. He completely relaxed as Holly took the towel and cleaned him. She pulled up his boxers and buckled his belt. “There we go. I’m so glad I could assist you. Remember to buckle your safety belt when the Captain turns on the light.” Brent in complete shock of what just happened nodded and smiled. He felt so relaxed that he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Holly wanted more. She had felt something unleashed in her. She was sexy, she was powerful and she was still horny.

-To Be Continued-

#beautification #transformation #breast expansion #f2f transformation #bimboification #origin stories #beauty is power #slutification #flight attendant

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kkami-writes · 7 months

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Devil's Advocate – chapter ten. cw. not? really spicy? but kinda implied sex. wc. 1.5k reference. skz-talker ep. 34

It was the day of the AAA’s and anyone could clearly see just how nervous you were. Even though it was just going to be a recording due to covid, it was still your first big event with the boys and you want it to go as smoothly as possible. Somehow you were more nervous than they were and they were the ones performing.

One by one you had made sure they were getting ready, constantly glancing at the clock and making sure you were still on schedule and not running behind. You had gone to check on Felix, but the boy was not in his room and you decide to find him later. The biggest probably would be Hyunjin if the boy wasn’t awake yet. It’d take you at least ten minutes to drag the boy out of bed. You freeze in front of his room though and you can immediately recognize the familiar energy that was pulsing inside the room. You curse under your breath, sighing deeply. Really? Did they have to decide to do this today?? Of all days?? An hour before they had to leave?? Oh you were gonna strangle them.

They don’t leave you much choice as you open the door and enter the room.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but in case you’ve forgotten you have the AAA’s today,”

The two boys on the bed freeze, eyes wide as they stare at you. Hyunjin is currently shirtless with a flustered Felix underneath him, legs wrapped around the taller boy’s body. It would almost be comical how shocked they were but to be honest you felt a little bad. You had promised to yourself that you would never…go near them when they were having moments like these but this time it could not be helped.

They scramble to disconnect themselves from each others bodies, Hyunjin desperately looking for his discarded shirt and Felix has his head in his hands, ears a bright red.

“I’m so sorry but we leave in an hour. So you can either hurry up or take a cold shower but we gotta go. I’ll come back in an hour ok?” You make to leave the two alone but surprisingly Hyunjin holds you back.

“Wait what? That’s it? You’re not gonna like…ask? Or interrogate us?” You raise an eyebrow at him, tilting your head.

“Huh? Do you want me to? I already know all of you guys are fucking,”

“WHAT?” They both scream at your confession and Felix flushes even more if it was possible. You laugh.

“Ok, first of all. You guys are NOT subtle or slick at all. The amount of times I’ve walked in on some of you making out is hilarious. Second of all, did you forget I’m half-succubus? I can quite literally feel the energy when you guys are…you know,”

Both boys blink at you, jaws practically on the floor.

“Plus even if I had never noticed or wasn’t a succubus, you do realize that the first thing the company did when I got the job was sign a NDA that explained all of you are in a polyamorous relationship and that I shouldn’t be concerned if I see anything. That it is strictly a company secret,��

Felix lets out a small groan, going back to trying to hide himself into the palm of his hands.

“…You don’t…think it’s weird?” Hyunjin asks, his voice on the quiet side, uncharacteristic for the boisterous boy.

“Weird? Hyunjin, I’m a succubus for devil’s sake. People summon me to have mind-blowing sex. I have to feed on semen of all things. And you’re asking me if I think it’s weird that eight people are in a relationship? You’re so cute,” This time Hyunjin is the one blushing. “If you want my honest opinion? I love it. I’ve been here a month and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that all of you have such a special bond. You guys have something so beautiful, so rare and you guys shouldn’t be ashamed of it. I mean of course, I understand why you have to hide it but that’s not the point. I think it’s so wonderful that you guys have so much love in your heart and my point is, is that you guys should cherish what you have. Honestly? I’m kinda jealous. I could barely get one boyfriend let alone eight when I was alive” You joke half-heartedly but they cam both tell you’re being more honest than you’ve ever been with them. “Anyway yeah, that’s what I think so please, you guys don’t have to skirt around me anymore. I know a lot more then you think. I don’t mind if you guys are all lovey-dovey around me ok? Okay good. ONE HOUR. We gotta go and if you’re not ready I will drag you out of this apartment”

Felix is looking up at you with those pretty eyes, a sparkle of what looks like hope shines in them. You don’t have the time to even begin to unpack what his gaze could possibly mean as you exit the room. You never see the look Hyunjin and Felix give each other.

Somehow you manage to get everyone to the venue in one piece. You think you deserve a medal for that alone. For now though, you get to relax while the boys get their makeup done. Jeongin is the first one done, sitting in the little kitchen area and stuffing his face with food. His hair is bright blue now, having gotten dyed just a few days ago. He looks good, you think to yourself, especially with the pretty red eyeshadow dusted across his eyes. You come over to poke his cheeks that are filled with food and he playfully swats at you, causing you to let out a small laugh.

You lean down a little, resulting in a confused look from the boy but you simple open your mouth, blinking and waiting for him. Jeongin stares at you for a minute before finally realizing what you want, placing some tteobokki into your mouth. You hum appreciatively, enjoying the sticky spicy rice cake.

“WHAT!!! This is blatant favoritism!!!” Changbin whines, pointing towards Jeongin. He had just tried to get the boy to share but he had pulled the food away from the other. Jeongin simply shrugs.

“Noona’s pretty,” and then he goes back to stuffing his face happily as Changbin stares at the boy with his mouth open. Of course Jeongin eventually let’s the other eat some of his food, but not before Changbin had thoroughly pouted.

Jisung walks into the room once he’s all dressed and you ‘oooh’ at the golden glitter in his hair. Your hand comes to run through his hair, an action Jisung throughly enjoys as he almost pushes against your hand more. But as soon as your hand leaves his hair he suddenly remembers why he had come over. Before you know it, Jisung is pulling you towards a smaller room with Minho.

“Um..where are you taking me? Are you gonna murder me?” Jisung snorts.

“No, no. Can you film us for SKZ-Talker? The other staff are busy,” He asks, pushing a small camera into your hands. It’s very hard to say no to the boy so you follow them into the room. There’s a keyboard pushed up the the wall and Jisung takes a seat. As soon as you start recording, you point the camera to Minho.

“Sorry you can’t be in here without permission. It’s authorized personnel only,” Stays will assume he’s talking to the camera but he’s actually teasing you, a grin on his face before taking a sip of coffee. You playfully glare at the boy from beyond the camera.

Jisung is pushing some buttons on the keyboard and then it’s playing a rapid song, his fingers pretending to glide over the keys as if he was the one playing. You’re trying to hold back your laughter at the sight, biting at your lower tier. He plays it up even more as he pretends to have a conversation on the phone, now ‘playing’ the keyboard with one hand.

After he’s done, Minho has already left the room, presumably to go bother someone else. Jisung starts to try playing an actual song, focused heavily on trying to remember the correct keys. He can only play the first few notes but the tune is strangely familiar to you. The boy continues to try to play as you wrack your brain of where you know this song. And then it hits you.

“OH. This is from Howl’s moving castle right?” You exclaim, happy that you had finally remembered.

“Yeah!! You’ve seen it?” You nod your head eagerly.

“Yeah, I love that movie. All ghibli movies really. I’m a little upset that I didn’t realize it sooner. I guess it has been awhile since I’ve seen it,”

“It’s my favorite movie of all time!! I’ve seen it like 8 times,” He chuckles. He would never get tired of talking about the movie.

“Wanna make it 9?” His head shoots up to look at you. Jisung’s smile gets brighter, small sparkles in his eyes.

“Hell yeah,” Devils advocate taglist (50/50) ⛤ send an ask or sign up here ⛤ @hannieslove @alnex05 @liknws @hyunelixbun @mixtape-racha @inlovewithallmusic @noellllslut @143lix @lolli4me @minhoie @soobery @sunnibearr @adorawritesalot @chlodavids @tasteskzsworld @chowmein69 @suebinn @yoonrimin @hyunestrella @elizalabs3 @chaotic-world-of-the-j @realrintaro @surefornext @minhwa @0325tiny @tfshouldidohere @hanjingin @slay-and-gay @princelingperfect @strawberryepie @yeetmehome @min-doesnt-know @shakalakaboomboo @skz-streamer @lovestayforev @the-simpy-simp @beautifulcolorgarden @foliea @studygirlmaxx @kpopsstuffs @highlydestiny @lenilla15 @@chocolate-scoups @mits-vi @lovemyself-persona @rensimps @raehawthorne @miss-rose-dixon @producedbyy3racha @loverlixie @hibs8

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phyrestartr · 7 months

Text

Simple Things [3] - Miguel O'hara x Male!Reader

# Mild NSFW, fluff, comfort, flirting, light angst, male!reader, dad!reader, spider!reader, implied depression, mentions of trauma, mentions of past relationships, mentions of manipulation, old men just doing their best, miguel is a sweetheart and a nerd, multi-part drabble collection

[ 1 ] Smoke Break | [ 2 ] We Change Like the Seasons | [ 3 ] Meet the Kids

Notes: Covid is still kicking my ass but I wanted to finish this part off so I can make the reader and Miguel fuck in the next part wahoo \o/

-- Meet The Kids --

A girl walked into the lab. Miguel thought maybe Gwen or another spider had come to ask something of him or to steal one of the cookies from his desk console (wouldn't be the first time), but the lazy scuff of shoes on polished floors sounded too clumsy to be one of his agents. She wasn't wearing a suit either, Miguel realized after sparing a glance over his shoulder; she did, however, sport a day pass on a small wrist.

"And you are?" Miguel asked before turning back to his screens. He wasn't really in the mood for conversation while he tracked the next anomaly, but he couldn't say he wanted some random kid to be touching his stuff in his lab.

"I dunno. Who're you?" Ugh.

The clattering of something hitting the floor made Miguel's eye twitch. He took a breath. "I'm the guy running the show here." He closed screens with gruesome scenes of destruction, hiding them from the prying eyes of the innocent in the room with him. "And I'm the one who's about to call your guardian."

She scoffed. "My guardian?"

"Whichever spider dragged you into HQ and let you off your leash with a day pass." Miguel spied her out of the corner of his eye, but didn't have the decency to face her. "Lyla. Scan her."

"You got it, buddy."

"Woah, wait–!" The girl gasped as a warm orange light washed over her, flickering across her entirety before vanishing. "Dude." Despite the attitude, her voice trembled faintly. Miguel almost felt bad. But she touched his stuff. Not his fault.

Lyla whistled and adjusted her sunnies as she leaned into a tiny screen of her own. "Oooh, you're gonna love this, Miguel–"

"Miguel?" The girl repeated. "Like…the guy Dad talks about?"

A clairvoyant feeling overwhelmed the spider, probably the same way spidey senses hit the normal spider-people around him. Somehow, he knew who she was, who her dad was before Lyla even said it.

"Yep, that's (Name)'s kiddo," Lyla chirped.

Miguel looked at the girl. He really looked at her this time, feeling some sort of stupid with how much she looked like you; her hair was fluffy and unkempt in the same shade yours was, the shape of her nose was like a smaller, cuter version of yours, too. Then there were her eyes. That same hazy hue of uncut gems, a colour of protective dullness that hid something brilliant and effervescent from the outside world.

"(Name)'s kid," Miguel repeated. Your name felt comfortable on his tongue these days. "Kid, I–what're you doing here? Where's your dad, huh?"

The girl, very clearly looking around the room to try and spot the elusive Lyla, shrugged. "I 'unno."

Colour Miguel unimpressed. "Oh, you don't know. Good. Great." He tutted before running a hand through his hair. "Lyla, call the kid's dad–"

"He's sleeping!" She blurted. "You can't just, like, wake him up; Dad never gets to sleep." Her arms crossed tightly over her chest as her cheeks puffed. "And my name's Isabella, y'know."

Miguel's dark brow raised in question. "Isabella." Said with a Latin accent. Interesting. Miguel's chest felt tighter. "If your dad's asleep then he probably left you with someone." He looked at her expectantly.

Isa shrugged again and scuffed her worn soles against the floor. "Mr.Parker didn't notice. He's watching Natalie and Nico and May 'n whatever. So. Yeah."

Mr.Parker? Oh. "Hm. He babysit you a lot?" God, Miguel should stop asking questions, but curiosity and that damn attention deficit had him by the throat. He turned around and folded his arms over one another, too, before leaning back against the stage console to speak with Isabella properly.

"Ugh, why are old people so–so freaking annoying? I'm not a baby, I don't need anyone to watch me." Ah. Of course.

"Oh, wow, ah-huh, yeah. Sure. I'm sure your dad agrees." Her amateur glare wrought a smirk out of him. Would he have argued with Gabi like this?

Miguel cleared his throat and turned back to the console, reaching for another cookie absent-mindedly. "Look, you can stay here until your father comes to get you, but you have to stop touching things. Got it?" But Isa only grumbled and scuffed her feet again. "Isabella."

"Uuugh. Fiiine." The girl plopped down into an old rolling chair. Miguel tried not to twitch. He would not snap at a child for breaking his chair, he would not do that. Absolutely not.

Not even one minute of silence passed before the kid rolled closer to the centre stage Miguel stood at. "Sooo you're, like, my dad's boss or something?"

"Guess that's the easiest way to put it." Miguel peered at the girl from the corner of his eye.

"Okay, but what's the hardest way to put it?" Isabella wiggled and sat backwards on the chair, hugging the backrest as she scooted around the lab. "Are yooou…friends?"

Miguel shrugged. "I'd say so."

"Hmmmm. Are you more than friends?"

His eye twitched again. "Do you interrogate every adult like this?"

Isabella huffed. "Uh, he made you cookies. It's sooo not weird to ask if you're, like, a thing."

"A thing."

"Like boyfriends–"

"Santa Muerte, I know what you mean, kid."

"Okay." Silence fell for all of ten seconds. "I'm just saying–"

Miguel groaned. "Can you stop talking for five minutes–"

"--you'd be waaay cooler to have for a step dad than all the people Dad's been dating."

"Yeah, well, I'm hard to beat." Oh, wow, did he just say that about himself? Christ. Miguel took a deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders with all his might. "That came out wrong. I–look, you need to just–he's dating?" Miguel cringed. It's not that he was interested in you like that, just…he was nosy, that's all. But he was incredibly aware of how that must have sounded to an equally nosy tween.

Isabella perked up. "Uh, yeah. But everyone he dates ends up being suuuper crazy and weird. Like, it's reaaally bad."

He shouldn't pry. He really shouldn't. "...Bad how?" Ay, Miguel.

"Like, they're always super clingy or don't like kids or something. And, like, Nico and Nat had moms who had dads who super hated dad, so they gave him money to make him go away." Isabella nodded matter of factly. "That's what Dad said. He's super sure he's cursed or something. Granny was a bruja y'know."

Miguel shouldn't be listening to this. He shouldn't be prying into your life through the conduit of a chatty kid. Asking you would be the better option, but this way was so much easier. It felt like he could finally get a grasp of what you'd been through, and maybe catch a glimpse of who you were behind the scenes.

"Then what about your mom?" Miguel asked, crossing his arms and flicking his gaze back to the monitors. "That didn't happen with her?"

An offended gasp burst from the young lady. "No! My mom was so not like that. She was Dad's girl!"

"No kidding." Miguel hummed. He wasn't about to ask what happened to her. Spiderman never had an easy romance, never had an easy life.

"Yeah! They fought in the war together, and her name's–"

"Isabella." Your voice cut through the air like winter rain. Miguel almost got chills, and Isa squeaked before hopping off her chair and scrambling on the stage to hide behind Miguel.

"Oh, look at that. Someone's in trouble," Miguel mumbled, mean smirk quirking the corner of his mouth.

Isa glared up at Miguel. "Jerk."

"Isabella, quit bothering the boss," You groaned tiredly. Miguel's ears perked as the coo of a little one fluttered through the air. He turned and found you holding the littlest baby in one arm, and a toddler in the other, both incredibly K.Oed.

"M'not bothering him!" She protested. "I'm just hanging out!"

"Cut the crap, you're probably complaining about school or about my love life or how I wouldn't get you a new phone or some shit." Miguel had to fight back a laugh. He'd never heard you so exasperated nor animated before. "And why the hell did you run off, huh? You had Pete freaking the fuck out."

"I got bored! I just wanted to go look around!" Isabella pleaded with a puppy-level whine.

"Isa, this place, it's–it's not meant for people without powers. You could get hurt, alright?" You adjusted your grip on the two little ones in your arms. "And the lab is a whole 'nother story, Christ–"

"It's fine, (Name)," Miguel cut in, turning to you. "She was fine."

But the worry lines creasing your forehead didn't smooth quite as much as he wanted. "'Ppreciate it, Boss. But, I…" you trailed off, sighing softly. "Yeah. Just. Thanks. I'll, ah, get her out of your hair. Bet you've got work to do."

Mija, let's go is what Miguel swore he heard come out of your mouth before Isa pouted and ran after you.

Mija. That word brought a world of hurt and comfort to his chest–the coincidence of Spanish on your tongue felt too…perfect, like you'd learned it just to shove it in his face. But Miguel knew better.

Isabella.

Mija.

Your girl, Isa's mother, must have taught you. He liked that, for some reason. The idea of learning something new for a partner. What would you teach him if you were–

Woah, woah, stop, Miguel. Stop. His ears turned hot. He worried at his bottom lip with fidgety hands before shaking his head free from such dangerous thoughts.

Focus, he chanted to himself, you've got work to do.

You decided you were sick that day. No, you weren’t really, but the headache chipping away at your skull suggested that, hey, maybe staying home for a day wouldn’t be a bad thing. You could use a break from dragging yourself around New York, searching for the next big scoop, the next tragedy to document and earn a living off of, too.

So, there you were, in bed, with the tv in the front room playing some sort of movie that you’d heard a thousand times but never learned the name of, while your littlest, newest addition to the family starfished in a laze, his tiny tummy pressed to your broad chest. Your fingers lazily rubbed circles against his little back as he snoozed and drooled on your shirt. Somehow, the giggling and chattering of his sisters didn’t wake him up. Maybe the drumming of your heart, or the safety of a warmth he hadn’t known until now, drowned all of it out.

He didn’t even stir when his sisters screeched.

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. God, please just let it be a spider, please just let it be a spider. You sat up, holding your baby to your chest as you plucked a gun from the side table. You carefully set Nico down into the warmth of where you were laying before stalking to the door and whipping it open, gun poised and ready for–oh. A big spider.

“What the fuck, Miguel,” you hissed, beyond exasperated as you lowered the gun. “Why the–what–I could’ve shot you.”

Miguel looked beyond bewildered, though some would say entirely bamboozled. He had his hands up like the police had them in his sights, his face was a combination of embarrassed, shocked and annoyed, and his claws had popped out in his flustered panic. His spiderman suit was still on, but he had that white hoodie thrown on top like it’d hide the fact he was spiderman. Hopefully it did.

“I–” Miguel started.

“Ah-ah.” You cut him off like a dog misbehaving. “Girls?” Their heads popped up from behind the couch and you sighed in relief. “It’s alright, he’s a friend. From work.”

One of your daughters gasped. “It’s the weirdo that’s suuuper into dad!” Isabella cried, jumping out from behind the couch and pointing an accusatory finger at a very unamused-looking Miguel.

“For the last time, I’m not–”

“You so are!”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Yeah!” Natalie joined in, hopping up and down by her sister excitedly and pointing at the man they deemed guilty. “You are, you are!”

Miguel, probably halfway to an early grave, looked to you for help. But you flashed him a tight-lipped smile that said more than words could offer: perish.

You let the girls hound him while you turned on your heel, heading back into the bedroom to sooth your stirring little boy. The gun found itself back in the drawer, safety on, magazine removed, before you scooped the tiny being into your arms and smooshed up against your chest. Your son quieted and clung to you. You left a kiss on the top of his head to welcome him.

"So," you started as you came back to the scene of the crime, "the hell're you here for, Boss?" You asked, completely unfazed by how the girls had corralled him onto the couch and had his hands in their own, their curious fingers pushing on his tendons and making his claws pop in and out. Honestly, you were pretty tempted to do the same.

Miguel pursed his lips and ignored the gremlins on him as he looked at you again, something distant softening his features.

"I, uh. I heard you were sick," he confessed with a small shrug. "Just thought…y’know."

You hummed as you rubbed your son's back. "Huh. How'd you find that out?"

"Peter mentioned it."

"Pete doesn't know I'm sick."

"Must've been Jess, then."

"Jessie doesn't know either."

Miguel was caught. His ears grew red before his cheeks did, and you smirked. Cute. Way too cute.

"Lyla told me," Miguel grumbled, finally.

"Ah. There it is. Not so hard to tell the truth now is it, Miggs?" You said with a Cheshire smile and a wink. "Good to know you've got your confidant spying on me."

Miguel freed himself from the children and stood up quickly. "It's not--I'm not spying on you, I–you–" Miguel pursed his lips. "I don't need to explain myself."

That made you laugh. "Relax, tough guy. I don't mind ya swinging by. Or, hm, guess I don't mind ya portal-ing in." Miguel didn't seem to think you were that funny, but thankfully Nico, in his haze of dreams, giggled at the right moment. "Nicky thinks I'm funny. You should take notes."

It didn't take much convincing to get Miguel to stay for dinner. You made him take a shower, though, and leant him some clothes to lounge in while you cooked everything from scratch. From scratch. Miguel couldn't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal.

"Yeah? That's sad as shit," you remarked nonchalantly as you diced vegetables. "Tell ya what, you make it a habit of coming around, and I'll make sure I make extra for you, yeah? It's important to have that home cooked goodness for your soul 'n what not."

Miguel felt his chest fill with something fluffy and warm. "Good point." But it wasn't, really. "Guess I'll have to make it a habit." He leaned back against the counter as he watched you prep everything. "Wouldn't want you putting in all that extra effort for nothing."

You twitched a bit of a smile and nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

You spared a glance at Miguel. He looked calm, at ease, like the threat of the dimensions collapsing wasn't at the forefront of his mind for once. You thought, maybe, this might be the first time in a long time that he had his mind off work. Maybe he was doing that whole human thing and enjoying the present for a change. Jumping to conclusions wasn't really your style, though.

Crimson eyes flickered, then, gazing towards the crib settled in your bedroom. He must've heard your little man stir. He must've wanted to do something about it, if his sudden shiftiness told you anything.

"You mind checking on him?" You asked softly, knowing that, maybe, this was a big ask for a man who only had a phantom to tuck in at night. "He's fussy. Likes to be held."

"You're sure?" The other man asked, brows furrowed in concern.

"You kidding? If there's any guy I'd trust with my kid, it's you." You fiddled with the wrapper of the packaged chicken meat before ultimately stabbing it with a knife. "Go on. Before he starts crying."

And Miguel wandered off to the little one. His voice had that sound to it when he spotted him, that kind of gentleness a man unlocked when he felt what it meant to be a father, a protector of a smaller soul. You listened hard for Miguel's smile, and felt your heart throb when you heard, "Hey, mijo. ¿Estas bien?" leave his lips. Your little boy cooed, and Miguel made a noise that sounded so frightfully domestic and dad-like, you thought you might perish on the spot, or fall in love in a second.

Get it together, get it together. A deep breath steadied your blitzing nerves when Miguel came back to the kitchen, Nico in his arms, smooshed up against his chest. You stole a glance, smiling to yourself when you caught Miguel mooning over the lazy bundle of joy.

You worked fast, feeling a weird, undeniable desire to talk after you had your army of children fed and sent to bed. Miguel didn’t leave your side, nor did he deign to put Nico down, not through soup and sandwiches, not through 20 questions hosted by Isabella and Natalie, and not through the moments alone where you herded the young ladies off to wash up before getting them to bed for the night.

“Y’know, you’re gonna spoil that kid,” you said with a smile when you came back to find Miguel on the couch with your son. You sat down by him with a dad-like sigh and peered at the little one snoozing away. “He’s gonna demand you hold him every time you come around.”

Miguel huffed a laugh. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“Hey, with arms ‘n pecs like that?” You pat one of Miguel’s impressive biceps to prove a point. “I get where he’s coming from. Lots of free real estate with good foundations.”

“Oh? You want me to hold you too?” Miguel offered, some sort of impish lilt lifting his voice as he looked over at you.

You fought back the urge to swallow. “Sure. If you’re offering.” But Miguel looked a little caught again, a little unsure of how much to tease and how hard to press, so you let him off the hook with a laugh.

“Man, you really remind me of her.” You rested your head against the couch, maybe a little bit on Miguel’s shoulder, as you watched your boy sleep. “Liliana,” you amended, “Isabella’s mom.”

Scarlet eyes flickered to you. Seems you caught his attention. “Liliana,” Miguel tested the name on his tongue slowly, thoughtfully. “Isabella’s mom.” And after another pause, he asked, “I guess she’s gone?”

“Gone. Yeah.” You blinked slowly, and let the words rotting in your lungs breach the surface: “I killed her.” Ah, maybe you said that with too much nonchalance, you worried, but Miguel’s low hum seemed to suggest otherwise.

It felt good. You couldn't stop yourself from talking. “It was an accident, I guess. She was a scientist. Geneticist, I think. Made me into, well, whatever I am now.” You flexed your hand and looked it over, like the blueprints of your design were still hidden under tired skin. “‘Cause, y’know, I was a soldier, she said I was gonna be the next Captain America, but… that doesn’t matter. Anyway, side effects were bad, really bad. I freaked out, then--then, y'know.” You took a breath. “Killed my little girl’s mom.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as you stared at nothing, sucked back into a daze and a trance you’d long forgotten about. But you remembered the blood, the screaming, the way you and those webs ignited and how the white lab coats all howled and screamed and popped. The scent of roasted flesh should have disgusted you, it should have knocked some sense into you and dragged you out of whatever episode you were having, but instead–

Your stomach growled, and you cleared your throat.

“Yeah. That was a bad day.”

“I get it,” Miguel said, and sounded like he meant it. “Guess something like that happened to me.”

You peered up at him, glimpsing his conflicted, troubled look.

“Yeah?” Thought Spiderman had a boring, normal story. Because, in totality, you were something more demented than just Spiderman, so your story was more fucked up than the rest. Maybe you were wrong.

“Yeah. I was–my research killed someone when I was trying to make them into, well, Spiderman.” Miguel sighed and shook his head, admonishing himself from the past. “I didn’t want to. I got pressured into it. Drugged when I wanted to quit. It was a mess.

“Tried to rewrite my DNA, and then a colleague shocked that up for me, and I ended up with the claws, the fangs, the–the everything. Slashed his throat by accident, got some other people killed when they tried to help me, killed some baddies when I didn’t mean to.”

Miguel’s gaze turned to you. “So don’t think you’re alone.”

“Huh,” you said astutely. “Guess you really meant it when you called us ‘miserable bastards.’”

“Takes one to know one, I guess.” Miguel’s shoulder shifted slightly, easing down so your head could rest more comfortably against him. Your chest swirled with errant embers, but you tried not to think too hard about it.

“You said I reminded you of her. Of Liliana?” Miguel asked, quiet and tentative.

You hummed. “Yeah. The good parts.” You smiled (when had that gotten so easy?) and reached over to brush some dark hair from Nico’s tiny forehead. “She was smokin’ hot.”

“...Huh.”

“Way too smart for her own good,” you continued. “It's always the smart ones that get me, y'know? Anyway, she was sly 'n funny in a mean way, but hey, I like that shit. Maybe I'm a masochist."

"So," Miguel started, shifting slightly to face you more, "let me get this straight. You think I'm 'smoking hot,' 'too smart for my own good,' and 'funny in a mean way'?" The grin on his face was too much for you to handle. Why did you feel so hot suddenly? Why was he so close suddenly?

"I think that sums it up."

"Huh. Anyone ever tell you you're an asshole?"

"Ouch. Okay, what if I throw in 'she was born to be a bangin' mom','' you offered, feeling a long-forgotten rush of excitement as you sat up and leaned in close, so close, your hand coming up to cup the side of his strong neck as you kept talking, "and that she made me feel somethin' for the first time in a long time?"

You could feel Miguel's breath hitch in his throat as he measured the gap between you two, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back to your eyes in debate. You wanted to close it. With every inch of your being you wanted to take the plunge and crash your lips against his.

But, with every fibre of your soul, you didn't want to fuck this up. You didn't have words for what this even was, but you cherished it. Sauntering down this line of friendship, of companionship, was better than taking the dive back into that world of icy yearning and wilting roses–this type of love, the platonic sort shared between brothers and men, was meaningful in and of itself. It was good enough.

Wasn't it?

You looked over his face, in disbelief with yourself. "Who am I kidding?" You whispered, letting your hand fall from his neck like a glacier shearing away from its home.

A small, tired laugh crawled from your chest, and you rubbed your face. "I, uh, think I oughta call it a night. I'm gonna–I gotta tuck Nicky into his crib." And carefully, gently, you scooped up your monkey and whispered quiet thanks into his hair–your little man was the perfect scapegoat.

What're you thinking? Careful hands pulled up the banana-patterned blanket over Nico's tiny form after you'd set him down in the cozy crib that he loathed so much. You thought it was nice and comfy. Hell, if you could fit, you'd probably snooze in there all day.

"Good work today, Nicky. I think you made the big guy relax a little, y'know?" Your son cooed sweetly in his sleep, and your spirit lifted just slightly. It almost gave you the strength to go face Miguel after coming onto him so hard.

Finding the last bit of courage yourself, you gave your boy one last kiss on the noggin and quietly snuck out, closing the door with utmost caution behind you, only to be pressed up against it a moment later, and smothered with a kiss.

A bolt of lightning kicked your pulse into triple time as you kissed Miguel back. His hands caught you by your hips, and your arms hooked around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. The simple thing was exhilarating. He was exhilarating. The embodiment of strength and resilience, of power and intelligence, was crushing you up against a door and taking the air from your lungs with such ease.

"Fuck," you gasped when you parted with a wet noise that sounded far too Hollywood. "You're not half bad."

"You've got a talent for ruining the mood." Miguel scoffed and tilted your chin up. His half-lidded eyes drank you in as soft breaths left his parted lips. You wanted nothing more than to be eaten whole by him (was that weird?).

"I got a few other talents, too," you purred, voice swirling with velvety dark chocolate. "But that might be too much for an old man like–"

Your squawked indignantly when he scooped you up and hoisted you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a petulant child. Your hands scrabbled against his back, and a shocked bout of laughter bubbled up from your core as he slapped you on the ass hard. Was this real? Were you seriously getting manhandled and spanked by Miguel O'hara?

Miguel almost threw you onto the couch, but you guessed the children snoozing in the next room over hampered that decision.

"If there's one thing I'm never too old for," Miguel murmured lightly, almost condescendingly as he set you down on the couch and got on top of you, "it's sex."

Your eager hands flitted across his taut muscles, too excited and undecided as to where to land first. "Thought you were too old to sleep around?"

"I don't sleep around," Miguel corrected, letting you fill in the blanks.

That helped you relax a little. "Yeah?"

He looked so conflicted, a little embarrassed, too. But that was becoming more and more common these days, thanks to you. "Yeah."

You nodded and reached a hand up to his cheek, and he leaned in graciously as a needy cat might. "Okay. Then I don't either."

Miguel hummed, and turned to mark your palm with a little kiss. "Alright."

"And maybe…we don't fuck tonight." His sleepy gaze found you again with one dark brow raised, surprised. "I'm, uh, I think I'm down pretty bad for you, Boss. I don't wanna fuck this up."

And, truth be told, you wanted to give him some respite. Maybe you wanted to give some to yourself, too; Liliana and Dahlia danced through your mind so much these days, no thanks to the burgeoning fondness growing for Miguel. He reminded you of both of them, of Winter and Summer, of snow and flowers. But it wasn't fair, not to you or him, to compare him to the epitome of cold and the apex of warmth. You needed time, too. Time to learn how to compare him to no one.

Miguel smiled, small and sincere. You admired the fine lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. He looked so handsome when he smiled. You wanted him to do it more. Were you enough to make him smile more?

"Yeah. I don't want you to shock this up either," he said, and your brows raised, incredulous.

"This is what I get for trying to be mature ‘n romantic, huh?” Your fingers drummed against the arms caging you in. You thought about chancing a finger-taser to his ribs, but with those damn claws of his, you were a little too worried about your couch cushions getting demolished.

His handsome smile turned into a punchable smirk. “What? I’m agreeing with you.”

“Ah-huh, ah-huh, that’s all, hey?” You leaned up and kissed Miguel again, slower and tamer this time, but still burning with want. Ugh. Why did you have to try to be all mature and romantic? “You’re just being a good boy?”

Miguel’s hips twitched at that, and it was your turn to smirk. Oh, how the tables turn.

“Lay down,” you ordered, sitting up to get out from under him. “Come on.”

“I–what?” He grumbled, looking a little befuddled and frustrated. Cute, cute cute. “Thought we agreed on–”

“Heavy petting’s not off the table, right?” You cut him off. Miguel perked a little bit at the suggestion and did as he was ordered, his hands finding your hips again as you took your turn straddling him. “Luckily for you, I’m an expert at the clothes-on experience.” You winked and Miguel sucked in a breath.

“Show me.” He ordered, voice deep and gravelly.

And you did.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr

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kindestofkings · 6 months

Text

sunshine baby [1]

robert keating x reader (she/her)

faceclaim: gracie abrams (ofc hahah)

authors note: hello hello! this is a really random one, I am a broken record but I am self projecting in these hence why the reader is always home friends with the boys. also theres so many time skips lol

I really home you enjoy, would really appreciate any feedback or comments yee might have <33

2020

yourusername

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername 2 months into lockdown we are playing, we are hot girl walking and most importantly we are hot girl drinking 💅

view all 20 comments

bobbyskeetz thanks for choosing the most flattering photos luv x

yourusername any time baby any time :))

yourbestfriend i miss you and your impromptu sing songs <3

yourusername no I miss you so much !! boys are really smelly sometimes 😀 yourbestfriend thats what you get for dating bobby SKEETZ bobbyskeetz heyy yourusername I know right?? bobbyskeetz HEYYYY

elijahhewson there is very little going on behind those eyes

yourusername the bulmers was very warm... and we just lost a zoom quiz

joshjenkinson_ keep our boy sane !

yourusername and whos gonna keep me sane?? whos gonna keep me alive? ryanmcmahon_15 did you put yourself on the line?

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend and others

yourusername as y'all know I dabble with playing some piano andddd my very cool, talented boyfriend and his friends asked me to play on a few tunes for their DEBUT ALBUM. thank you for briefly employing me :))

view all 30 comments

joshjenkinson_ no thank YOU

ryanmcmahon_15 we owe you forever, this is so exciting !

bobbyskeetz as your boss can you make me a cuppa?

yourusername and your legs stopped working when?? also you're closer to the kitchen than I am rn!

bobbyskeetz they just cant take the weight of being such a musical success 😔 friend1 @bobbyskeetz how does she put up with you? bobbyskeetz shh dont make her reflect on her decisions

yourmam so proud of you chicken!!

yourbestfriend and the start of your music career is when?

yourusername oh hush you heheh elijahhewson she asks the important questions yourusername why be a musician when you can be a broke college student right 😀

yourusername posted to their story!

if the boys have zero fans, i am dead.

bobbyskeetz so extreme but I love you <3

bobbyskeetz

liked by joshjenkinson_ and others

bobbyskeetz EVEN BIGGER NEWS !!! Our greatest hits debut album is coming out on July 16th for all you beautiful people to hear. We poured our hearts and souls into this and can’t wait for you to listen . Couldn’t have done it without @theantski @thedrewmanshow @johncatlin @andrea.cozzaglio and all the other talented people who helped get this record finished.

IT WONT ALWAYS BE LIKE THIS !

view all 100 comments

bobbyskeetz ALSO @yourusername for the pretty piano playing

yourusername hushhh rn CONGRATS ON THE SUPERB album

inhalerfan1 i'm seriously so proud of you guys 💙

inhalerfan2 finallyyyy

yourmam well done boys!! huge achievement

bobbyskeetz thank you :))

yourusername

liked by yourmam and others

yourusername it is very cool and a lil strange seeing my fella on posters while im on my daily hot girl walk....

it always be wont this like is out today woooo!

view all 15 comments

elijahhewson I dont remember that photo being taken 😑

yourusername you just release your debut album you gotta celebrate! yourfriend shes just too nice, you were locked.

yourmam lovely photo, why are yee outdoors though? 😂

bobbyskeetz sure we're following covid restrictions! you're looking at four v responsible boys!! yourmam hmmm I don't know about that one now!

yourbestfriend no cause robert and sir hewson would wanna stop looking into my soul..

elijahhewson 😐😐 bobbyskeetz 😐😐 bobbyskeetz what about josh huh he's also throwin some looks yourbestfriend josh can do whatever he wants 🫶🏼 (liked by joshjenkson_ and yourusername)

yourusername oh also everyone compliment ryan on his GORGEOUS hair

yourbestfriend such a power move I adore x yourfriend ryan how does it feel being coolest member of dublin's coolest band?? joshjenkson_ so fit, is he single...?

bobbyskeetz not sure if you got the album name exactly right there..

yourusername huh I dont see anything wrong 🤔

2021

yourusername

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername the trio is back and just in time to see the boys killing it at fairview park 🔥

view all 15 comments

yourbestfriend forget about them WE are killing it

yourfriend mmhmm we slay 😤

yourbestfriend posted to their story!

when the base player with a staring problem is away, the girlies can steal his girlfriend 🤘🏼

bobbyskeetz oi oi get your feet of my dining table 😤

bobbyskeetz

liked by yourusername and others

bobbyskeetz happy birthday beautiful.

view all 50 comments

inhaler1 this is my thirteenth reason 💔

yourusername miss you rockstar!

inhaler1 miss girl who are you? and can you please accept my follow request

inhaler2 nooooooo you're taken ?!?

ryanmcmahon_15 hundreds of girls heartsbroken with the softest of soft launches haha

lewevans the spooky powers of mr skeetz

yourbestfriend FINALLY you're letting him show you off

yourusername haha this is too much please stop 🥺 🥰

inhalerfanupdates

liked by inhalerfan1 and others

inhalerfanupdates I hope its real cause I need a gun after seeing bobbys soft launch

view all 10 comments

inhalerfan1 im so sad I cant

inhalerfan2 im afraid to ask but how long do you think they've been together

inhalerfan3 i 😭 cant 😭😭 think 😭😭😭 about 😭😭😭😭 it

part 2

#bobby skeetz #robert keating #robert keating x reader #robert keating imagine #inhaler dublin #inhaler band #inhaler fanfic #inhaler imagine #smau

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thistledropkick · 10 months

Text

Last year, Kasai Jun was interviewed as part of the interview project DEATH, which interviews various people about death in order to find a better understanding of how to live and appreciate life.

I thought it was a fascinating interview, so I decided to translate it.

Please go visit the original interview - the photography accompanying it is absolutely gorgeous.

Also, please don't repost this whole translation elsewhere. If you want to quote an excerpt of my translation for something, please make sure to also credit the original team behind this interview and link back to the original interview.

Deathmatch Fighter Kasai Jun - 4/27/2022

“It’s not a deathmatch until you return home alive” The reason this 47 year old Charisma Wrestler continues to shed blood in the ring

Within pro wrestling, there is a genre called “deathmatch.”

An extreme set of rules that allows deadly weapons and has no disqualifications. Brawls with fluorescent light tubes, and dives onto barbed wire boards. Without hesitation, wrestlers stab their opponents in the head with fistfuls of bamboo skewers. When wound-covered bodies violently collide, shards of glass and sprays of blood shower the ringside seats.

Upon first seeing it, surely everyone thinks “Why are these people hurting each other like this?” “What the hell am I looking at?”

This is the world of the man known as “Charisma,” professional Wrestler Kasai Jun of the independent promotion Pro Wrestling Freedoms.

In November of 2009, he had a “razorblade board plus alpha deathmatch” against Ito Ryuji in Tokyo’s Korakuen Hall. Kasai, 35 years old at the time, dove from the second floor balcony, a fall of 6 meters, onto a table, aiming for his opponent Ito.

Afterwards they continued to fight with various weapons, in a match that concluded 15 seconds before the 30 minute time limit. That year, this match was awarded the Best Bout award. And Kasai, the winner of that match, became a living legend overnight.

12 years have passed since then. Kasai is now 47 years old, and he continues to rule over the world of deathmatch wrestling. Under the weight of many literal life-or-death battles, Kasai’s body no longer moves the way it did when he was young. Even so, why does he continue to set foot in such a dangerous place?

We asked “Charisma of Deathmatch” - a man who makes the crowd go mad in the space between life and death - about his views on death and on life.

Desiring to truly feel alive

- Normally, people try to avoid pain and suffering. Kasai, why do you continue to shed blood in the ring?

Hahaha. From an outside perspective, you must really wonder “Why do you keep doing something so painful” huh? That’s a normal way to feel. But from the wrestler’s perspective, it’s completely different.

In your normal daily life, do you ever feel like “Ahh, it’s so glorious to be alive”? You’d almost never unconsciously blurt out something like that.

But in a life or death battle in a deathmatch ring, after you step down from that ring, that’s exactly what you feel. “Ahh, I’m alive. I’m so grateful to be alive.” Because of that, I can’t quit.

Mountain climbers and stuntmen probably feel like this too, don’t they. Stepping into a situation where their life could end, and returning home safely. I wonder if they’re searching for that feeling of being “truly alive.”

This feeling is passed on to the audience too. Fans often tell me “Watching Kasai Jun’s deathmatch gives me the strength to continue forward.”

They say things like, “I’m being bullied at school so I wasn’t going to go any more, but now I feel like I can keep going.” Or, “It’s exhausting to keep going to work, but after seeing Kasai persevere while shedding blood in the ring, I can persevere and keep going to work.”

Recently I can’t do this much because of covid, but in the past when I’d sell merch, fans would often say things like this to me.

Because of this, it seems to me that deathmatch wrestling is simultaneously a way for wrestlers to feel truly alive, and a way for those who watch it to feel more positively about living.

- Because of the sensational way “death” is shown in the ring?

Probably, yeah. Because it looks like we’re doing something really painful.

But don’t get me wrong. We aren’t in a particular hurry to die. And we aren’t wasting our lives either. What I always say is, “It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.”

[Note from me - this phrase (生きて帰るまでがデスマッチ) is a play on a well-known Japanese phrase 家に帰るまでが遠足 “The field trip isn’t over until we return home.” This started as something a teacher would say to students in their care, and Kasai has altered it into his motto towards both himself and other deathmatch wrestlers.]

- It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.

If you get in a ring where you might die or get seriously injured, and you do die, or you do get seriously injured, you’re no different than a rank amateur, right? But a guy who dives into a deadly dangerous situation and returns from that ring unharmed, he’s the absolute greatest and the absolute coolest.

Like a stuntman, right? If he returns home alive, people say “amazing,” but if he dies, he’s no longer a pro.

At 35 years old, his view on life did a complete 180 during a match

But, when I was young, I thought about it completely differently. I never thought “I’m grateful to be alive.” In the ring, I did dangerous stuff and defeated my opponents. I just thought of it as my job.

The more dangerous stuff I did, the more people said “Kasai is amazing!” That felt really great. Every time I stepped into the right I thought, if something goes wrong and I die I guess that’s how it goes. I thought “Deathmatches should be a memento mori.”

- What caused such a big change in your values?

That match against Ito Ryuji in Korakuen, in 2009. It changed my mental state by 180 degrees.

The truth is, I went into that match thinking “This is my last match before I retire.” Because it was my last match, I would do everything I wanted to do. Win or lose, I went into the ring thinking “I’ll retire.”

But during the match, my feelings completely changed. I thought “If I quit like this, I’ll be half-dead.” There’s nothing else I want to do, and I’ve never felt joy like this anywhere else. It was just too much fun.

So, after the match ended with 15 seconds remaining, I announced my decision to continue wrestling. “I was thinking of retiring but, I’m gonna keep going.” That’s what changed.

- Since your values have changed so significantly from when you thought it’d be good to die in the ring, what’s your “ideal death” now?

Spending the day with my family as I always do, watching tv with an after-dinner drink as I always do, getting comfy in my futon as I always do, and passing away. That’s the best death, isn’t it.

I’ve said it before but, people who say “It’s my ambition to die in the ring” are just trying to look cool. For a pro, it all comes down to returning home alive. And so, I believe that when the life of Kasai Jun the human being comes to an end, Kasai Jun the wrestler will die as well. I want to be a pro wrestler until I die. That’s how I feel now.

When I was young, I thought the best time for a wrestler to retire was when he could still move, when people would say “It’s a shame, because there’s still more he can do.” But if that’s true, I’ve already missed my best time to retire.

Since I’ve come this far, maybe it’s better to keep doing this until my death. Since around the time I turned 40, I started thinking this way.

Gaining years = leveling up. I’ll reach my peak just before death.

- Since you’ve been doing this for so long, it’s inevitable that your body has become weaker. Kasai, how have you dealt with aging?

The word “elderly” is a concept created by human beings, isn’t it? Since that’s the case, I believe it’s something we can absolutely overcome. I don’t think increasing in age is the same as becoming elderly.

Look, it’s true that my physical stamina has decreased and my muscles have gotten weaker than they were when I was younger. But my will and my spirit have continued to grow. Instead of just breaking even, I think I’ve leveled up. 47 years old is level 47. I now see growing older as a positive, like leveling up every year.

Because of that, my peak has yet to come. I’ll reach my peak just before I die. I’ll be at my strongest just before my death. That’s the ideal I envision for myself.

There was a time when I felt insecure about my age. When I hit my mid 30s, I hated that my body was becoming weaker.

But then, while drinking at home and watching a documentary on TV about (rock musician) Yazawa Eikichi, I realized something. “If you think about it, uncool young people are uncool, and cool guys are cool even if they’re old.” Since then, my way of thinking changed. I started calling getting older “leveling up” at around that time.

[Note from me: Suzuki Minoru also refers to getting one year older as “leveling up” in the exact same way. They are friends, so I assume Suzuki got it from Kasai.]

- I'm surprised that a pro athlete who uses his body as a weapon would think of aging in that way.

Pro wrestling and deathmatch are unique among sports. Unlike say, track and field, or swimming, it isn’t a competition where every second counts. I can’t move the way I could when I was young any more, but through my facial expressions, pauses during matches, and so on, I have many ways to express myself.

A guy can be handsome, macho, with great muscles, and completely suck as a wrestler. In contrast, a guy like me who’s ugly, short, and middle-aged, can get support from the fans. It’s a completely different genre, and that’s what makes pro wrestling so interesting.

- What about your emotional struggles? In your documentary film you said you were having some difficulty maintaining your motivation, which you described as “Deathmatch Erectile Dysfunction”

Yeah, well, that can definitely be a problem. When you’re young, you’ve just got piles of hopes and dreams and things you want to do. But as the years go on, and as you accomplish those things, you can kind of get lost.

What’s helped me increase my motivation has been the existence of people who make me think “I absolutely don’t wanna lose to this guy” or “I don’t want this guy to take all the best stuff for himself” In my case, for example, that’s been (fellow PW Freedoms deathmatch wrestler) Takeda Masashi. Or, although he’s from another organization, New Japan Pro Wrestling’s El Desperado.

That’s why for the past 3 or 4 years, I’ve been asking people to “stimulate me.” I want intimidating people to keep approaching me. Well, on the other hand, if they take the most delicious part for themselves, that’s a problem.

A fear of death led to a “selfish life”

- Incidentally, perhaps it’s too late at this point, but do you worry about being injured or dying?

I said it already but, “It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.” Since I’m a pro, I have the skills required to do this without death or injury.

But, it’d be a lie to say “I’m not afraid.” Even now, for several days before a match I get so stressed that I can’t sleep. Despite how I look, I get plenty scared. Much of my life has been driven by a strong fear of death.

- How do you mean?

It sounds silly, but when I was in grade school I believed in “The Prophecies of Nostradamus.” Have you ever heard of it? “In the year 1999, all of humanity will be destroyed.” Every night I shook with fear in my futon, thinking that my life would end at the age of 24.

Propelled by that fear, I concluded, “If the earth is gonna get destroyed anyway, I should quit studying. Instead I should use the rest of my remaining lifetime to do stuff that I like.” I completely quit studying, and instead spent all my time watching pro wrestling, which I loved.

Conversely, my fear of death also led me to become a pro wrestler. After graduating high school, I got a job in Tokyo as a security guard, but I gave into temptation and visited brothels daily. One day I happened to be reading a magazine with an HIV checklist inside, and almost every item applied to me.

At that time, I still thought “AIDS = death” so I thought “Oh, this is AIDS.” “Oh, this is how I’ll die.”

Luckily, when I got tested the result was negative, but after preparing myself for death, I thought “I really should do what I want” and knocked on the door of Big Japan Pro Wrestling. My life has always been influenced in this way.

- I get the impression that many wrestlers die at an early age. Since then, your fear must have increased.

Nah, that’s not really true. I’m surprisingly practical about the deaths of others. I just accept it, like “That’s the kind of life you lived.” I suspect my fear of death isn’t a fear of death itself, but a fear of becoming nothing.

- A fear of becoming nothing.

I’m no (actor and spiritualist) Tanba Tetsuro, but if after you die, you go to the spirit world, and cross the Sanzu river, that’s not all that scary is it? I wouldn’t go so far as to say “it’s fine if I die” but there’s some kind of hope or meaning. But if “After death, you become complete nothingness” “After death you feel no joy or sadness” I think that’s really scary.

But these days, I don’t experience that fear of death as much as I used to. If after this interview a dump truck hits me and I die, I wouldn’t have any regrets. I could say I did what I wanted to do.

Pro wrestling is a business where you depend on your popularity with an audience, but I’ve never tried to flatter the audience to get sales or support, or thought about how to increase my popularity. Ultimately, Kasai Jun puts himself first. I’m my own number one.

To die without regrets is to win at life

- But, if someone wanted to imitate your way of life, I think most people would be profoundly afraid of not getting by financially, or of being rejected by society. Why do you think you remain stoic in the face of such fears?

What’s there worth imitating about me? If you’re selfish like me and you can change it, you should want to!

But, this is probably related to that “fear of becoming nothing” I mentioned earlier. Ever since I was little, I’ve thought stuff like “This whole world isn’t real” and “Maybe all of this is just a dream.”

Nothing in this world is certain. Since that’s the case, all you have are your own body and your own feelings. In short, I don’t believe in anything but myself, so I put myself first.

- So in order to “feel truly alive” you throw yourself into the painful world of deathmatch wrestling, which leads us back to where we started.

That’s right. I guess you could say that pain is the only thing I believe.

But when I was young, I did understand the fear of not making enough money to survive. When I was around 30 and my son had just been born, I was seized by that fear.

Really, I was broke, and I couldn’t even pay into the National Pension Fund like I was supposed to, so I went to the ward office and said “I do intend to pay, so please wait a little.” I thought to myself, “Living is so expensive and so difficult.”

- A deathmatch fighter scary enough to quiet a crying child, with such an everyday problem.

Three years after my debut, when I was around 27, I was badly injured. I quit Big Japan, and after a year’s absence, I transferred to a different group called Zero-One.

Zero-One was founded by ex-New Japan Pro Wrestler Hashimoto Shinya, and the pay was good compared to Big Japan, and they held a lot of shows, so I could wrestle frequently. The environment there was very pleasant.

But, due to the policy of the organization, I couldn’t do the deathmatches that I love. During that time as a “salaryman wrestler,” I survived, but I think deathmatch fighter Kasai Jun, pro wrestler Kasai Jun, was completely dead.

“I really should do the pro wrestling I want to do,” I thought, and I quit Zero-One, and persisted with the pro wrestling that I love. Maybe that’s why I feel like I can now “die without regrets.”

Ultimately, if you live your own life as you wish, and think “I have no regrets” when you die, you win. Maybe people today have lost sight of the essence of what it means to live. It’s fine to work hard at your job, but if you’re spending every day miserably, is that kind of life really okay with you?

I’d rather live for 20 years and laugh every day than live for 100 years and never smile. If you’ve lived for 100 years and never laughed, that’s the same as being dead, isn’t it?

写真：本永創太 ~ Photographer: Motonaga Souta

執筆：鈴木陸夫 ~ Author: Suzuki Atsuo

編集：日向コイケ（Huuuu）~ Editor: Hinata Koike (Huuuu)

#kasai jun #jun kasai #pw freedoms #pro wrestling #deathmatch #my translation #This is definitely the longest thing I have ever attempted to translate!#I've got nobody checking over my work or anything like that so as always apologies for any typos or errors that I didn't catch

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justpked · 5 months

Note

you’re like if edging was a person instead of concept

you arrive with an overwhelming aura

then right when it gets good

you fade into existence

I respect it so hard

Errr... Hi. I'm alive. I'm sorry for disappearing without a word. I tend to do that a lot, now that I think about it... I should really stop doing that.

So, you guys remember when I told you all I forgot my password.

I wasn't kidding. Like literally.

I forgot my password and email address to my COG account, Dashingdon account and a lot of other things. So my access to Fell Star for my Dashindon account is forever gone, but I'll make a new one with the new update. And to make things worse and to top it off about my loss of memory, my laptop finally broke down after serving its life for seven long years.

It lived a long, good life... but the only problem is that it took some files I didn't save yet, with it. Of course, fret not, Fell Star is still alive and going. I managed to get some of the stuff back, but had to adjust new scenes for the upcoming 2.1 Chapter.

It's already at 346k words, I lost 200k+ words, dammit, and I'm not done editing it yet. I told myself no action for the Gem Path, yet, here I am, sitting at my new computer I had to buy to work on this project. I least I was able to buy a computer to play some BG3-

So, er, yeah. Hi. I'm sorry for not keeping you up to date and disappearing. I'm a very forgetful person. I should really write my passwords and email addresses down on a piece of paper or something.

Thank you for your kind messages of asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. I think. I managed to break out of Covid but I was sick for two months. Like damn, my immune system is horrible. Let's hope I don't get sick again. ^^'

Christmas is coming up, huh... I might be dropping something on that special day.

Let's embrace the sins again, huh? I did promise y'all something. I should at least post something, after my time gone.

#pk talks #i'm alive #i swear #i think #i love you too anon #ayo what's with this new layout #it's weird #like damn #wut is this

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stardust-goddess · 8 months

Text

Covid Sucks

Dean Winchester x Sick! Reader

Summary: Reader has covid and Dean takes care of her.

A/N: The universe might be out to get me or looking out for me by giving me covid the day after my birthday lol. Since I’ve been stuck in bed I decided to write this up. I apologize if it isn’t as good as usual, I’m still not feeling that great. Thank you as always for the support,likes, reblogs, etc. it means so much to me. Enjoy💕

Warnings: Should be mostly fluff. Mentions of being sick and covid.

You really didn’t think anything of it at first. You had always had seasonal allergies, especially when the temperature liked to change from hot to cold and back in the span of days. When you woke up this morning with congestion and a slightly scratchy throat, you chalked it up to just that. You had been in the bunker all day, specifically in the library. You hadn’t been a hunter for as long as the boys have, so you tried your best to research when you could on all the different supernatural creatures out there.

As the day progressed, you started feeling a little worse. By dinner time, you were starting to think that maybe it was more then just allergies. In addition to your congestion and sore throat you now had a headache, body aches, and chills. Rubbing your hands up and down your arms discreetly to try and get some warmth, you knew the boys would notice soon, especially Dean. You and Dean had only been dating for a few months, but he was very attentive and good at reading you. You had always been a little sensitive anyway, having trouble masking your emotions. You were pretty much an open book, and Dean knew you very well. You hated getting sick, and you hated worrying Dean, but you knew that once he noticed there was no trying to hide it.

Eating small bites of your dinner, you are vaguely aware of the conversation the boys are having about a possible hunt. Feeling a little out of it, you don’t realize right away that Sam is trying to get your attention.

“Y/N, you ok?” Sam looks at you confused and a little concerned.

“Sorry, yea must of zoned out. What did you say?” You replied, trying to sound more cheerful. But you knew it was only a matter of time before you were caught. Dean’s eyes zeroed in on you, giving you a once over as you answered Sam’s question. You looked a little paler then usual, the skin not covered by your t-shirt and pants covered in goosebumps. Every now and then you’d give a little sniff that sounded like you were trying to clear your sinuses.

“You feeling alright baby” Dean speaks up, watching you carefully.

You tensed slightly, yup you were caught. But in your foggy headspace you still tried to cover it up.

“Yea my allergies have been bugging me today, but other then that I’m good.”

“Allergies huh?” Dean says in disbelief. He gives you a no nonsense look before leaning over placing his lips on your forehead for a minute before leaning back “Do your allergies usually give you a fever? You’re warm.” Dean said with a look of concern. Slumping in defeat you let out a small sigh that makes your breath catch and causes a cough. Quickly turning away to cough in the crook of your elbow, Deans suspicions are confirmed.

“Ok so I might be getting sick, but I’m sure it’s just a cold or something.”

Standing up Dean takes your hand and helps you stand, before guiding you to the bathroom. Sam following along behind. Dean flicks the light on and has you sit on the closed toilet seat, rummaging through the medicine cabinet. Sam leans up against the door to watch. Grabbing the thermometer Dean turns to you, gesturing for you to open your mouth. You do so and Dean gently places the thermometer under your tongue. Muffled you try to speak.

“Guys I’m sure it’s nothing, really-“

“Baby stop, don’t jostle the thermometer” Dean says, cutting you off and giving you an exasperated look. Pleading with his eyes to let him help you.

Defeated you sit quietly. You knew he was doing all of this because he cared, you just didn’t want to be a bother. Finally hearing the little beep, Dean grabs the thermometer and looks at the digital screen.

“100.5, let’s make sure it doesn’t get any higher.” Turning back to the medicine cabinet, Dean grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. Shaking two in his hand he passes them along to you, grabbing a glass of water for you as well. Crouching down in front of you Dean watches as you take the medicine. When your finished, he moves the glass on the counter for you and then places a hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles.

“What are you feeling right now baby?” Dean hated when you got sick. He was already protective of you, and you being sick increased that feeling tenfold.

Not trying to hide it any longer you reply. “I feel cold, my head and body hurts on and off, I feel congested, and just gross all around.” Raising two of your fingers to your temple when you start to feel the ache come back, you rub at it gently. A slight look of discomfort takes over your face, that doesn’t go unnoticed by Dean. Replacing your hand with his, Dean takes over rubbing before turning to look at Sam in the doorway.

“What do you think Sammy?”

“Sounds like covid to me. The store in town should still be open, I can run and get some tests to make sure.”

Groaning you slump forward pressing your forehead against Dean’s shoulder. “Covid sucks.”You whine. You hated this. Dean holds in a chuckle at your outburst. Even when you were sick you were still adorable.

“Alright, come on let’s get you into bed while we wait for Sammy.”

After getting you settled, Dean sits next to you. Grabbing your hand and running his thumb along your knuckles. Deciding to ask the question that had been on his mind.

“Y/N? Why did you try to hide this? This could’ve ended up being so much worse if left unchecked. You’re health is important and I don’t want anything to happen to you”

You looked at Dean, seeing deep concern in his eyes. “I just hate worrying you and having you take care of me like I’m a child or something. When I woke up this morning I really did think it was my allergies, but I just felt worse as the day went on. I figured I could just handle it on my own. I’m sorry if I made you mad.” You look down at your lap, embarrassed that you tried to lie.

Tilting your chin up so you’re looking back at him, Dean tucks some hair behind your ear that fell forward when you looked down.

“I’m not mad baby, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide things from me. I know I’m not the best at that myself, but I’m trying. You are never a bother to me and I don’t want you to have to go through things by yourself. You, your health, and your happiness are my priority. You can tell me anything and everything and I’ll always be there to help you. I love you and I’m not going to be mad or annoyed if you need me.”

You feel your eyes well up at his sweet words. He may not have always expressed it but you knew deep down he was a nurturing person. That was one of many reasons as to why you loved him. He had such a good heart.

Wrapping your arms around him you burrow your head into the crook of his neck. “I love you, Dean. You’re my priority too.” Wrapping his arms around your waist Dean pulls you into his lap, making sure your comfortable. He kisses your temple then places his chin on your head. Holding you close as you continue to wait for Sam.

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

After taking a test it was confirmed, you had covid. Dean had already gotten it a few months prior, luckily before you were dating so you were safe back then. Since you were dating now and sharing a room, there was no issue with him being in bed with you and taking care of you. Sam however hadn’t gotten it previously, which meant you were confined to your bedroom. You knew you were going to be bored, but you didn’t want to risk Sam getting sick and knew that this was necessary. Dean had also made it clear that he wasn’t going leave you alone, so at least you had him to keep you company.

Waking up the next morning, you let out a little groan. You felt worse then yesterday. There didn’t seem to be any new symptoms, but you’re current ones felt more intense. Trying to get more comfortable you take note that your by yourself, Dean’s side of the bed cold. He must’ve gotten up before you. Slowly pulling yourself up you lean against the headboard. Cradling your head in your hands and rubbing your forehead to ease the intense ache. Hearing the door open you look up, Dean coming into the room with a tray in his hands. Placing the tray on your night table, Dean takes a seat at the edge of the bed on your side facing you.

“Morning baby, how are you feeling”

“Not great, honestly I feel worse then I did yesterday.”

Frowning a little Dean leans over and grabs the thermometer off the tray he brought in. Taking your temperature you wait for the beep.

“101 still not terrible but hopefully it doesn’t get any higher then that.”

Grabbing the ibuprofen next he gives you another dose to take.

“Are you hungry? I made breakfast.”

“A little bit.” You reply slightly surprised that despite all your symptoms you still had an appetite. Dean takes the tray and puts it on your lap, before standing and rounding the bed to go back to his side. You notice two plates of eggs and toast, one for you and one for him.

“Don’t force yourself to eat it all if you don’t feel up to it, but at least eat a little. Do you need me to help you?”

“I can do it, thank you though.” You reply picking up your fork and starting to eat. Satisfied that your ok, Dean grabs his plate and eats as well. You get through about half of your plate before your feeling full. Taking the tray to move it off the bed, Dean beats you to it.

“I got it, let me clean this up and I’ll be right back.”

Watching Dean leave the room you scoot down a little further into the bed. You don’t want to fully lay down due to your full stomach but don’t want to be fully upright either. Entering the room again Dean gets back in the bed pulling you closer and wrapping his arm around you so you can burrow into his side.

“Comfortable?”

You nod against his chest, relaxing into his embrace further when his hand starts rubbing up and down your back.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You nod again and Dean grabs the remote for the TV. Scrolling through the options and settling on your favorite. Dean keeps the volume a little lower then usual so it wouldn’t make your headache worse. You smile at Deans actions “Thank you Dean, I love you.” Dropping a kiss to your forehead Dean gives you a smile in return.

“I love you too baby, now rest up. I’ve got you.”

Relishing in his warmth you felt content. Yea covid sucked, but Dean would be there to make it better.

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