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hotchscvm · 9 months

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leaked nudes — two

pt. 1

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you just wanted penelope’s feedback on your nudes. its hard for her to do so when you send them to your boss instead.

word count: 2k (another short one)

warnings: the word panties, stealing of shirts, reader checking out aaron’s ass, a mention of leonado dicaprio, mentions of suicidal thoughts

The next few days for him is torture.

Every time he looks at you, or even in your general vicinity, he’s reminded of the images he can never forget. Not that he’s been able to stop thinking about them, in the shower, in his bed, in his office, in the field—it was consuming him and he didn’t mind.

Aaron had resorted to wearing his darker suits, hoping they’d conceal his raging boner (an instance that only happened around you or when he thinks of you or when anyone even speaks your name). Unfortunately for exhausted cock, you noticed the change and complimented him on it, leaving him to lock himself in his hotel room and rub out a quick one.

After another unsuccessful day, Aaron sends the team back to the hotel, following them a few minutes afterward. He groans inwardly as he sees you coming out of the bathroom, knowing well enough he’d have to drive you to the hotel as the team had taken two of the SUVs back. He didn’t think he could stand another second alone with you without wanting to pin you against the wall and fuck you until the whole city knew his name.

You smiled at him as he opened the door for you, and he thinks he may develop heart palpitations with the number of times you make his heart stop—Aaron is certain one of these days his heart won’t continue and you may literally kill him with your smile.

Despite his cock stirring in his pants, the drive back to the hotel was lovely, though he can confidently say any time with you is divine. Though, he does rear-end the car in front of them when you unbutton your top, showing a white tank top under. Even worse when the seat belt tightens around you when he steps on the brake hard, causing it to accentuate your breasts, stuffed between them. He thinks he’s finally gone insane, being jealous over a seatbelt.

He opens the door for you once again, getting out of the car and the doors to the hotel. Aaron wonders if you can hear his heart beating wildly out of his chest when you link your arm through his, leaning slightly against him as you walk to the elevators.

Once you get to your room, you sigh loudly, taking off your tank top and throwing it on the unmade bed. You were feeling the effects of being unable to solve the case and being in Kansas City was like being stuck in an elevator running out of air.

After taking a shower, you realize your go bag was running out of clothes as you’ve been here for nearly a week. You were too tired to do laundry in the hotel’s laundry room and you knew Spencer was sleeping by now so you quickly wrapped a towel around your body and walked next door to Aaron’s room.

Knocking, you secured the towel around you, chuckling at the thought of flashing your boss. When he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of you in just the towel, nearly slamming the door close at the thought.

Smiling sheepishly at him, you said. “Hey, can I borrow another shirt? I don’t really want to wear another dirty one and I haven’t done laundry yet.”

It takes him a few seconds to answer, his eyes never leaving your face. Aaron nods, opening his door further. “Um, yeah, of course. Let me just see what I have.”

You step a foot inside his room as he gets a shirt from his duffel bag, checking out his ass as he had taken his blazer off, your view now unconstructed. You wanted nothing more than to have his belt wrapped around your hands instead of his pants.

Aaron gets a shirt from his bag, handing it to you. It’s blue and the material is rather thin from its usage. “Is this alright?”

“Yeah, thanks again, Hotch.” you flash him a grin, walking out of the room. “I promise not to steal this one like the others.”

He chuckles, waving it off. “You can steal as many of my shirts as you want.”

You laugh, opening your door. Truthfully, you liked his shirts better than any of yours. Most of them were faded but they still smelled like him and you often slept in one of them after stealing the first one. You preferred them to the clothing you’ve stolen from Spencer or Derek, though Emily’s hoodie was a game changer.

Thankfully, you didn't have to share rooms so you got dressed in Aaron’s large t-shirt and put on a pair of pink panties. Like the rest, the hem of the shirt fell down just below your ass, leaving you mostly covered.

Your phone buzzes as you get into bed, Penelope’s message causing you to chuckle.

Pen

I’ve been waiting not-so-patiently for these sexy pics.

Before joining the BAU, you had regularly sent nudes to the men on your roster, wanting nothing more than fun and compliments to boost your confidence. During a girl’s night, and after four shots of vodka, you admitted to Penelope you liked getting feedback on the pictures you took and in both your drunk stage, she had agreed to be one of your critics.

And while you slowly decreased your roster, Penelope was always the first person you sent them to, and she’d give you feedback based on how the picture was taken and what you were wearing. Multiple times she had asked where you’d gotten your lingerie.

So it wasn’t uncommon for you to send her nudes before you sent them to anyone. Not that you had anyone in mind to send this particular set of pictures to, but it was nice to get compliments from a friend after a long day. She was like your agent if you were famous, steering you in the right way.

Texting her you’d send them in a few minutes, you got ready to take several photos. Some included the bathroom mirror, some included you in Aaron’s shirt and two showed you completely naked. Inappropriate use of your boss’ t-shirt made the pictures hotter to you, though no one but you would know. You giggled at the thought of Aaron seeing you use his shirts in your nudes—that would be mortifying.

As if he could read your mind, your phone buzzed again, Aaron’s name popping up in the text notification. Clicking on the message, you saw he wanted to see pictures you had taken from the coroner of the most recent victim.

You’re about to send them to him when Penelope’s text pops up on the top of your screen, reminding you once again to send them. Grinning, you click on your naked images and send them before responding back to Aaron’s message about the dead body. As you click send, you put your phone on the bedside table and pick up the tv remote, putting on whatever the first show you came across.

Normally, Penelope would take about a minute to “study” the photos you’ve sent her but just as you turned the tv on, your phone buzzed, her text lighting up the screen. Frowning, you unlock your phone, confused by her text.

Pen

Ewww, why’d you send me the vic’s dead body???

Heart pounding, you tap on your messages with the blonde, heart dropping when you realize you sent her the pictures from the coroners instead of the promised nudes. You don’t bother to apologize to her when you see you’ve sent Aaron Hotchner six pictures.

And if you didn’t send Penelope your nudes …

Hands shaking you clicked on Aaron’s name, throwing your phone across the room after seeing a photo of your bare cunt in the message you sent him. It hits the wall, denting it slightly as you stare in its general direction, absolutely mortified.

What the actual fuck.

You rush towards your fallen phone, calling Penelope, face red and hands shaking. “Shit, shit, shit. Answer the phone.”

“Hey, when I mean send pictures–”

“I accidentally sent my nudes to Hotch.” you blurt out, plopping back on your bed.

“WHAT?”

Groaning, you banged your head on the mattress, wanting nothing more than to switch places with the corpse you took a picture of. “I meant to send them to you but I guess I switched you up by mistake—I don’t know, I’m really tired and I sent our boss pictures of my tits and pussy, Penelope!”

Silence meets your confession, and you only hear her breathing for a few seconds. “It’s … I don’t … What … I mean, it's not as bad as you’re thinking. Has he seen them yet?”

“How would I know?” you hissed. Pacing back and forth in your room, you bit your lip, worried. “Oh, my God. He’s so going to fire me, or worse: he’s going to want to talk to me about it instead of just ignoring it. OH, MY FUCK.”

Penelope chuckled quietly. “To be fair, they’re probably good pictures.”

“PENELOPE GARCIA.” you whisper-shouted, fidgeting with the hem of your—Aaron’s—shirt. Oh, how you wanted to crumble on your knees and die. “This isn’t like I accidentally sent them to Spence or Derek, I sent them to Aaron Hotchner. It’s like the worst-case scenario. I’d rather send my pussy to Rossi than Hotch.”

“Really? You’d rather send them to Rossi?” she questioned, amused and almost as mortified at the situation, though for different reasons.

“I’d rather send nudes to Rossi than Derek,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “At least with Rossi we can laugh it off but Derek would probably tease me about it until I do something more embarrassing. Oh, God, I’m so going to get fired. I might as well shoot my brains out before he tells me to come to his room to talk.”

“Or … you could go to his room and … you know,” Penelope replied, her tone flirty.

“Leonardo Dicaprio would date a woman over twenty-five years old before that happens, Pen.” you groaned, looking longly at the gun on your bedside table—not that you would actually consider it but, oh to be dead. “I’m actually going to die of embarrassment.”

Before she can reply, someone knocks on your door and you have a suspicion about who it is. You hurriedly say goodbye to the tech analysis, heart heavy as you walk to the door. You think about breaking the hotel window and jumping off from the fourth story but he knocks again, leaving you no choice but to open the door.

Aaron Hotchner stands on the other side, eyes crazed and shirt unbuttoned. You open your mouth to apologize, to make up an excuse, to do some damage control but it seems as if he has other ideas.

He takes a step forward, hands encasing your face as he kisses you. You freeze in shock, and he takes the opportunity to back you against the wall, a hand tilting your jaw and the other tangling in your hair. He bit your lip and you squeal quietly in surprise, his tongue slipping between your lips.

After a few seconds of trying to wrap your head around your boss kissing you, you kiss him back, closing your eyes as you enjoy his lips on yours. His hands drift down your back, squeezing your ass briefly before reaching the hem of your–his–shirt, pulling it up and exposing the pink panties you wore.

He pulls away, both of you breathing hard. Aaron glances down, smirking at the color of your thong before looking back at you, taking a step away and reluctantly taking his hands off of you. You don’t realize you’re whimpering, objecting.

“Do you want this?” he asks, eyes piercing and panting. He still wore his suit, but his shirt was half unbuttoned. You could see his chest peeking from them.

You nodded, taking a step closer to him, bringing you to his touch. “Yes.”

Aaron’s hands are immediately on you again, lips on yours as he whispered. “Good. Tonight, you’ll be filming my cock fucking your needy cunt instead of your fingers.”

a/n: i wanted to write smut but i gotta save my smut juices (ew) for bad ideas 2. also thank u to @callm3c0nfus3d and @gublersgibson for convincing me to do pt 2 :))))

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic

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beesspacedotorg · 2 months

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Third Leg?

Summary: after spending time with Minho after exams, you remember something he said in the heat of the moment about your packmate Jeongin. You decide to confront Jeongin about it, because after all, what's the worst that can happen?

Warnings: sex. uh. poly ot8 and reader. more omegaverse. continuation of Dibs but can be read on its own. breeding kink?? manhandling ??? reader is lowkey a brat, uh. Jeongin's dick is huge. I actually don't know what else to add, so let me know if there's another thing I should put in here. reader is an omega but gender and genitals are unspecified as always

notes: I got possesed by a demon when I was writing this. I don't even have a breeding kink. Also if the title is bad, no. this is my first time writing Jeongin, so if it's bad no it isn't. this is his very late birthday present. Happy Birthday, King.

to read: Dibs

In most things, you try to be reasonable. It does not come easy to you, it doesn’t come easy to most people. You wish your pack would be more understanding of this sometimes. You know that’s an unfair thing to say about, to say to, your pack, but you can’t help it. You really don’t want to, you really can’t spend Jeongin’s rut with him. It’s the middle of the semester, you’re still convinced the Luna doesn’t like you, and you’d prefer not to think too hard about your relationship with anyone else. You’re comfortable with Hyunjin and you’re comfortable with Changbin. Everyone else, you think, couldn’t care whether you were around or not.

“That’s unfair to think, dove. Of course they want you around. We want you around.” Hyunjin says, he’s holding your face in his palms in a way that he often does when he talks to you.

“I know, but I really don’t feel comfortable yet, it’s only been a couple months, and it took me so long to get used to being around you.” You huff and you can feel a heat forming behind your nose. “I just really- I don’t want to spend Innie’s rut with him. I can’t.” Hyunjin hums affirmingly and swipes a finger under your eye to cut off a tear, but otherwise makes no comment about your crying.

“You want them to stop pushing,” he says, and you nod at him.

“I want them to stop pushing.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. But, please don’t say we don’t want you around. We do. At the very least, I do. Okay?” You nod at him and smile slightly as he kisses your nose, it turns into a laugh when he gets insistent, peppering kisses all over your face until you’re shoving him off and smiling wide at him.

“So.” You have a spoonful of cereal halfway to your mouth when he comes into the kitchen. In all reality, you aren’t supposed to be here. You only stopped by for a quick snack before you went to head into work, but then there was something at the shop so your boss told you to stay home. You’d intended to detour to the campus library instead to catch up on some homework, but between your first and second bowls of cereal you had switched out of your outside clothes to sweats and an old t-shirt, and now you’re standing three feet away from Yang Jeongin.

“So?” You set the bowl down on the counter.

“You don’t want to spend my rut with me.” You draw your shoulders up to your ears defensively. You think something in your scent must turn sour because you see Jeongin wrinkle his nose.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not mad or anything. I just wanted to know if you’d tell me why.” You pause, picking up your spoon and stirring the milk around the bowl, listening to the clink clink clink of metal on ceramic. Something about his question confuses you.

“If?”

“Yeah, ‘if.’ I don’t want to pressure you for information if you’re not ready to give it. If you’re uncomfortable with spending my rut with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to tell me you’re uncomfortable, that’s also fine.”

“I don’t want to tell you why.” He shrugs. You’re surprised at how easy that was.

“That’s fine. I have another question though.”

“Hmm?”

“Could we hangout, or something? Before you steer clear of the house for a week and a half, I want to spend time with you. Unfortunately,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ve come to enjoy your company and if I don’t spend some time with you I might do something drastic.” He’s slowly approaching you now, crowding you against the counter. He’s given you plenty of time to walk away or move, but you haven’t, so he continues.

“Drastic, you say.” He hums, taking your bowl and putting it in the sink, not bothering to rinse it out.

“Drastic like breaking every single door that separates the two of us just to make sure you’re safe.” He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, nose against your neck. His hair smells like baby powder, like his shampoo that you and Hyunjin sometimes steal. You can feel him shake with laughter when your scent changes with arousal as he gets in your space.

“You’re easy.” You hit his back slightly.

“You’re mean.”

“Will you hangout with me, though? I was mostly serious.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll hangout with you.”

“Great,” he says, and you let out a small shriek as he drags you in the direction of his room. The door is halfway closed when he yells across the house.

“I call dibs until my rut starts!” You can hear the groans and complaints through his now shut door.

So, you spend time with him, both before and after his rut, and nobody comments on how annoying it is that you’re monopolizing his time like you thought they would. There’s a point where Hyunjin interrupts you because he wants Jeongin’s dick in his mouth, and when you move to leave, they both start complaining. (You left anyway, not being ready for that just yet, but the idea made you feel warm regardless.)

You don’t get to spend much time with him after that though, because then you have Minho and exams flooding your vision and your senses, and while one of those things is enjoyable, the other isn’t and for two seconds you’d like your brain to be off. Just for two. That time comes and it’s as you’re waking up from your post-fuck nap with Minho that it hits you.

“You said Innie was talking about me during rut?”

“What? Sweetheart, we just woke up.” Minho is rubbing his eyes, smacking his mouth, and blinking cutely. You feel the urge to pinch his cheek but worry that would land you in hot water so you just poke it instead.

“Yes, I know, I know, but. You said Jeongin was talking about me during his rut.”

“Yes? Why do you sound so surprised? You’re our Omega after all.” You flush again at his casual claim on you, he keeps catching you off guard with it.

“He never mentioned it to me.” Minho yawns and slings his arm over your waist.

“You were busy, of course he didn’t mention it to you. Besides, you seemed so … hesitant to spend his rut with him in the first place that he probably didn’t want to mention it at all.” You frown, brows furrowing as you think about it. You move to get out of bed when Minho stops you.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To talk to Jeongin.”

“It’s too early for one, and for two. I have some things planned for us.” His hand wanders up your shirt.

“But-”

“I thought you had learned enough to stop arguing with me? Does your mommy need to teach you a lesson?” He says this, but he’s not holding you back. If you wanted to, you could leave this bed and camp outside of Jeongin’s door until he woke up. But you don’t. You don’t even know what you want to say to him, and Minho is tracing soft circles on your skin and you’re struck with undeniable want. You ease yourself back into bed.

“That’s my pretty Omega. So good for me, hmm?”

You don’t get to talk to Jeongin until several days later. You’re too busy sleeping like the dead for a day and a half, then Chan steals you away for a celebratory dinner date, then when you finally get the chance to talk to him, you walk into his room and find him and Yongbok making out, so you’ve had to curb the conversation for later, until now.

“Innie!” He’s slipping his shoes on.

“Yeah?” He never ties them, you notice, ties them once and then slips them on and off over and over again.

“Where are you going?”

“On a walk.”

“Great.” You walk over to him and shove his jacket off his shoulders, then kick at his feet until he takes his shoes back off, and start dragging him to his room.

“What.” He’s confused despite the fact that he’s the one who let it get this far.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Okay?” He sits down on his bed, patting the spot next to him so you can sit too.

“Minho mentioned that you talked about me during your rut.” It comes out of you in a rush. Jeongin’s face flushes red. He covers his face with his hands, his huge hands with their stupidly long fingers.

“Ah. Yes. I did. Are you upset?”

“Am I up- Am I upset?” You’re incredulous. “One of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and one of my Alphas wanted me during his rut and you think I’m upset?”

“Okay, to be fair. You didn’t seem too thrilled about the idea of my rut to begin with.”

“I was new to the pack!”

“You’d been with us for three months!”

“Like I said, new!” He huffs and knocks you onto your back, laying across you in the way you’ve seen the others do to him.

“Why did you come to talk to me about it?” You flush at his question and you can hear his little chuckle. The members joke that he learned how to be mischievous from Minho and Seungmin, and you’ve never seen it more than right now.

“Oh? I see.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Minho hyung says you like when people are mean.”

“Minho said what?!”

“I’m kidding, he refused to tell us what you two got up to, but now I know that I’m not too far off.” You grab a pillow from behind your head and smack him with it. He moves himself until your noses are touching and smiles at you. You smile back and poke around his face until your finger lands in a dimple.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” His voice is soft, low, because of how close he is to your face and he smirks when your scent fills the room.

“You do?” You nod at him and he tuts.

“Minho’s taught you better than that.” You huff and pout at him. He laughs and kisses you.

“I’ll let you get away with it because you’re cute.” You beam at him and he smiles back.

He starts with kissing you, because of course he does. It’s soft and sweet and a little hesitant and it’s similar to the way you’ve seen him kiss Yongbok, but different from the way you’ve seen him kiss Seungmin and you’re struck with the realization that he sees you as something soft and precious. That he’ll hold you with the same amount of delicacy he uses to hold Felix and your heart stutters in your chest for a minute.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He’s pulling away, looking at you with wide eyes as your scent changes. “Did I hurt you?” You shake your head at him, pulling him close for a hug for a minute as you calm yourself down.

You’ve never had a pack before, your culture has moved away from it. You had to move from your family for school and since then you’ve been relatively alone. It’s been a while since you’ve felt loved, and when you’re faced with the sheer amount of it the eight of them have to give it overwhelms you every time. He hasn’t hurt you, it’s the opposite.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Ah, I see. Hyungs’ said you might cry a little. That’s okay. Do you want to stop?” You shake your head at him, answering with a verbal “no” after he stares at you pointedly. You lean in to kiss him again and he responds with the same gentleness he did before and you can feel yourself slicking up in your pants. You hear him take a sharp inhale and then you feel his grip tighten where his hands were resting on the side of your face and neck.

“Jesus, I can see why hyung keeps you to himself all the time. You smell so fucking good.” He stops kissing you to start making out with your neck, you can feel him starting to scent you and you tug at him, whining.

“Innie-”

“Yeah, I know, but-” he cuts himself off with a groan and you can feel his hips press into yours and dear God.

“Is that your leg?”

“No.” You whine again. There’s no fucking way his dick is that big. You tell him so.

“Well. Prepare to eat your words because it is.”

You huff at him again, and really, he should spend less time around the more sarcastic pack members because his attitude is making your eye twitch. He sees it and smiles mischievously at you before landing a soft peck right below the same eye.

“I’d like to see how you handle Hannie or Seungmin hyung. They’re worse than I am.”

“They also probably move faster than you do.” He grumbles at you at that and gets to work undressing the two of you. He’s sliding his hoodie off when you’re filled with the urge to bite his biceps. They’ve gotten bigger since you’ve been introduced to him and you think it’s crazy because you hardly ever see him work out. Suddenly, there’s a large palm against your forehead and any forward movement you had started is quickly stopped.

“What are you doing?” You can feel your teeth click together as your mouth closes and you blink a couple times.

“Nothing.” He squints at you.

“You were going to bite me, weren’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re a liar!” You’re being manhandled now, and you refuse to go down without a fight. You grab a pillow and nail him in the face with it.

“I am not! I’ve never- don’t pull my hair- I’ve never lied!”

“You’re doing it right- why are your nails so fucking long- right now!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Did you just fucking- ow! What the hell?” You finally manage to get your teeth on his arm and it’s just as great as you imagined it would be. Your victory is incredibly short lived because between one second and the next Jeongin has you pinned to the bed. Your cheek is pressed against the mattress and he has your arm twisted in a way that’s mildly uncomfortable, but that’s overshadowed by how you can feel him pressed against you to keep you pinned. He’s all lean muscle and you can feel where his shoulders press against yours and where his cock is pressed against your ass and if you tilt your hips just right, you can feel him brush against your slick hole.

“Oh? Does my pretty Omega want something?” You can hear the laughter in his voice. You can also hear how it’s dropped three octaves and you can feel it rumbling from his chest. You can feel how his cock is starting to leak against your skin.

“Jeongin-”

“I think,” he grabs your other arm, pinning your wrists at the small of your back, “that if you want anything you should beg for it.”

“Innie, you’re not being fair-”

“I’m not being fair? You bit me. I have you pinned. If you want anything from me, you’re going to have to work for it.” You turn your head into the mattress and let out a small sob, wiggling a bit in Jeongin’s hold. His hands loosen on your wrists and he lifts his weight off of you enough that you could get out if you wanted to. Minho did this too, gave you signals with his body to let you know that it was okay to not want it, the problem is that you do. You like how Jeongin has you pinned, and you like the humiliation that’s going to come with begging for it.

He notices you haven’t moved and so his grip tightens on your wrists again. You feel the chuckle he lets out as he presses his weight down onto you again and you know your scent must be doing something because he inhales with his nose pressed straight against your neck.

“Get to begging, baby. I have all night.” You whine at that, wiggling and trying to push your hips back against his to fuck yourself onto his cock, but he pulls his hips back, readjusts until you couldn’t reach his cock unless you dislocated something and he laughs at you.

Jeongin does have all night, it turns out, because you spend a considerable amount of time with your forehead pressed into the mattress trying to will the shame that comes with wanting out of your body. At one point, he asks you if you’re alright, dropping the act for a bit and when you respond he resorts to taunting you.

He’s doing it now, taking his ridiculously large dick in his hand and gathering some of the slick that’s leaked between your legs to jerk it. You can hear the wet noises it’s making and you can’t help but think of how much louder it would be if he were actually fucking you. It turns out that your Alpha was thinking the same thing because he starts talking, and each word chips away at the lump in your throat.

“Fuck, you smell so good, baby. Your slick is so warm, I bet it’d be warmer if I got it straight from the source, yeah? What do you think? You’re leaking so much you’ve made a wet spot on the bed, maybe I should fuck that instead, since you wanna be stubborn.” You whine in response.

“No? You don’t want me to do that? I think I should. Or should I just finish on your back?” Your next answering whine is more of a wail.

“Oh, I see. You’re a little cumwhore is that it? Want me to come inside of you? Hmm? Get our Omega pregnant?” You moan this time, drooling onto the sheets. Jeongin grabs your head and turns it to the side so he can see you better, or so that you can see him and how he’s about to waste his cum on you instead of in you. The drool smears onto your cheek and you can feel your eyes start to well up with tears because you know he’s close.

“Please.” It escapes from you in a pathetic whimper and the hand that was stroking his cock pauses.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you.” You know he did, but you also know that if you don’t repeat yourself and beg good enough he really will make good on his promise to finish on your back and leave you there.

“Innie, Jeonginnie, please. I want- I want-”

“Want what? Hmm? A slice of cake, a new Minecraft update?” You huff at his mocking, but it’s too wet to really hold any weight, and you can feel your lip wobbling, so you’re not surprised when what you say next is more of a sob than anything else.

“Your cock. Jeongin, Alpha, please. You said you wanted me during your rut, don’t you want me now?” It’s a low blow, and even through your desperation you know that, but you’ll do what it takes to get him to finally stick his huge dick in you.

“Oh, baby. I do. Don’t worry.” His fingers are searching for your entrance, stretching you out just enough for it to not burn too bad, but you’re so wet, and both of you are so needy, you know that you’ll just have to deal with the pain of not preparing for his stupid dick later because you want it now.

“Then,” he made the mistake of letting go of your wrists to grab your hip instead, and you ball your hands into fists and hit the bed in frustration, “why aren’t you fucking me?” He huffs a laugh.

“All that and you’re still giving me trouble? You’re lucky you’re cute, Omega. So lucky.” You start to kick your feet at him but you’re stopped by the fact that he’s slowly starting to push into you, making a home for himself inside your body and slowly forcing the breath from your lungs.

It burns, and you expected it to with how unprepared you were, but it feels good and you don’t care so that will have to be a later-you problem.

“Jesus, you feel so good, baby. Better than I imagined.” He starts a rough rhythm right off the bat, and you’re needy enough that it doesn’t bother you, besides, you’re pretty sure he was edging himself earlier, so he’s entitled to this.

“Felix hyung and I talked about it, you know. When I was in rut. You left.” The last part comes out as a soft growl, and he coughs to get himself in check before pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.

“You left and I thought about how warm you’d feel inside. Felix wondered too, said he wanted to know how sweet you were.” You hear him chuckle. “Y’know I got him to come untouched from just talking about you, pretty baby?”

You gasp, letting out a shuddery moan at that, and you hear Jeongin laugh above you. You were already halfway to delirious with how good he was fucking you- hard enough to shake the bed and bang the headboard against the wall- but something about knowing that the pack wants you always makes you just that much wetter, always makes your head that much lighter, so you can’t help but clench down around his cock and get everything around you soaked with more of your slick.

“Jeonginnie, Alpha, I- please- I want to-”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, baby. I won’t make you beg for this one.” He presses himself down against your back, knocking your knees out from under you so you’re flat against the bed and have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it.

“The next one, though. I make no promises.”

The new angle has you going dumber than you were before and you can feel Jeongin’s breath in puffs of hot air against your neck. You whine at him, moaning as you’re trapped underneath his body and when you come it’s with white spots dancing across your vision. You’re just coming down when you feel him start to pull out and you surprise both yourself and him with the growl that comes out of you.

“Yang Jeongin, so help me God if you do not come inside of me-” He shuts you up by doing just that, bullying his knot into you until it pops and rolling the two of you onto your sides so you’re not laying in the multiple spots of wet that have stained his sheets.

“You’re bossy.” It’s said against your hair while his stupidly big hands come up to massage the crick in your neck that’s finally made itself present. “How do you get away with that when you’re with Minho hyung?”

“I listen to him. Mostly.” He pinches you, you pinch back. You sit in silence for a minute.

“Was it good? Or, as good as you imagined?” You try not to sound insecure as you say it, but you know that you’ve probably missed the mark.

“Better. Way better.” He kisses the spot he was just massaging and winds his arm around your middle. “Nap time. You’ll need your energy when I get you back for being a little shit.”

“I wasn’t.” He scoffs at you.

“Yeah, sure. And my name is Chan.”

“Hi, Chan, how are you?”

“Cancel what I said earlier. The second we aren’t locked together anymore I’m kicking you out.” You laugh at him.

#bee blurbs #ft.innie #a bee o #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #i.n x you #yang jeongin x you #yang jeongin hard thoughs #yang jeongin smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut

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iluvpjo · 2 months

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HII !!

HEAR ME OUT. Charlie is definitely a thigh guy,he loveeeees to just lay on ur thighs and kiss them and theyre js so squishy and UGH.

I think he'd be very sweet in general like if you had scars (Sh or just normal scars) he's definitely kiss them and tell you how beautiful they are

REMEMBER TO EAT ENOUGH AND STAY HYDRATED !! 🫂

-🌻

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓱 𝓖𝓾𝔂

Synopsis: Charlie being a thigh guy, basically headcanons but also not rlly ??? Idk what this is tbh

Warning(s): IT GETS NSFW! MDNI, thigh stuff, talks abt scars, talks abt sh (in its own seperate bit so ur able to avoid it, I’ll put a warning there)

Pairing: Charlie Bushnell x fem reader (could be seen as GN except for one part where he calls u a sweet girl but you can just imagine otherwise if u wish!)

Word count: 528 words

Notes: I tried to write this n tumblr closed on me n didn’t save my draft ARGH 😭 but I’m so sorry I been away for a moment.. on an unrelated note last night I dreamt abt cuddling w Charlie n omfg

ALSO I’m so sorry it’s a lil short ahhh

Come find me on AO3!

Send me a request! Here’s my req rules!

(NSFW-ish!) Charlie whenever he sits beside you will always have a hand on you wether it be on your shoulder or on your knee, or other times where he’ll be squishing you’re thigh under the table in public somewhere. He of course does this at home too, and occasionally if he feels like it sometimes his hand will wander upwards. He still likes to do it nonsexually though, squeezing softly whenever he wants your attention.

(NSFW!) He would love to kiss your thighs while laying between your legs, often using it to tease you and not touch you where you need it the most. He also gets a little distracted, the feeling of your warm cushy thighs near his face can easily make him lose time. Charlie will kiss softly at your thighs, but he will also nip them gently too between his teeth just to watch you yelp and whine.

He would definitely get super hard from eating you out, I mean just in general, but especially when you cum undone and you squeeze your thighs around his head. Fuckkk he’d be in heaven, and he’d let you know that too when he dives back in for round two and has you repeating the same actions over and over. He will do it until you tell him to calm down, but if you don’t then I’m sure he’d be going on forever and ever until something inevitably disrupts the two of you.

(Scar stuff, more specifically sh) If he noticed you had scars on your thighs he wouldn’t be quick to point them out, maybe he’d spend a little extra time kissing over the marks or trailing them gently with his finger tips if they were healed. If they weren’t healed fully though maybe he’d ask about them, cooing softly for you to talk to him about what happened to make you do it. He’d leave it if you didn’t wanna talk about it though, simply comforting you with gentle kisses and cuddles.

“Don’t look at them..” You’d say, perhaps being a little insecure about them when his eyes would linger a little too long on your thighs, and Charlie would smile up at you dumbly before placing soft pecks to them and saying “Why not? Your thighs are so beautiful.” And you’d grow a little flustered. “No, they’re not, my scars-“ he wouldn’t even let you finish the thought about them, because he’d butt in and say “Your scars are beautiful sweet girl, I ‘dunno what you’re talking about..” and then his voice would get muffled n a lil quieter as he gets lost in the feeling of ur soft plushy thighs and he keeps leaving kisses all over them, his hands gripping at them like they’re his favourite thing in the world (and they are, after you as a whole of course.)

#luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader smut #percy jackson smut #percy jackson x reader smut #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell x reader smut #charlie bushnell x you #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #🌷 anon

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planet-dusk · 1 year

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🏷️ f!reader, best friend!minho, fingering, choking

the soft noise that escaped you when minho's fingers brushed against your throat was involuntary. there was nothing sexual about the way he was fastening your necklace. or at least there shouldn’t be. his fingers lingered on your nape and you were suddenly painfully aware of how close he was standing behind you.

“what was that?” minho asked and you forced out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. of course minho, your best friend of many years, would notice the smallest change in your behavior. you tried to even out your breathing when his arm wound around you, his hand coming to rest atop your clavicle. his thumb caressed the dip at the junction of your throat and you had to close your eyes to stay focused. if only he knew what he did to you.

you bit your lip and kept quiet, praying he wouldn’t move his hand. if he moved it a little lower he’d feel the erratic beating of your heart. and if he moved it higher instead? you weren’t sure what would happen then, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to find out.

but minho, ever the unpredictable friend, surprised you by nudging you back into his firm chest. his breath was hot against your ear and you had to stop yourself from moaning when his fingers grazed your throat again.

“didn’t think you’d be into that sort of thing,” minho drawled, “unless i’m mistaken…?”

he left the question hanging between the two of you, its implications clear as day. it was a way out before you reached the point of no return that would change the course of your friendship with him forever. a small mercy even though it was offered too late.

slowly, you grabbed his elbow and guided his arm up until his hand rested around your throat. he wasn’t putting any pressure on it yet but the warmth of his fingers against your skin was enough to make you dizzy with desire. it was as if all those years of secret pent-up longing were finally unlocked.

there was a moment where he, too, seemed to contemplate his actions — was whatever this would lead to worth risking years of friendship? but then his hand clasped more firmly around your throat.

“minho…” you pleaded, thankful for his strong arms keeping you upright. he tightened his grip while his other hand made quick work of the button on your jeans. you gasped in unison when his fingers pressed against your slippery clit, his whispered fuck at finding you so thoroughly drenched surprisingly shaky. as if he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life, and now it’d finally arrived he couldn’t believe himself.

his teeth nipped at the shell of your ear, leaving a trail of sloppy open-mouthed kisses as he worked you open with two fingers. his other hand never left your throat. you weren’t sure if the lightheadedness was a result of the lack of blood flow to your brain or the fact that it was minho, out of all people, who held you so tightly.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” his voice reached you through your haze, “thought i would go insane.”

his fingers were back on your pulsing clit now, circling the swollen bud. the knot in your tummy was quickly tightening and you held onto minho’s arm like it was a liferaft keeping you afloat. he kept it firmly in place around your throat, the veins on his forearm bulging with every flex of muscle.

“m-min, please, i’m so close,” you begged, grinding your hips into his palm. he squeezed your neck and your vision erupted in bright streaks as your orgasm washed over you in waves. minho murmured sweet words of encouragement into your ear until he was sure you’d come down, your legs trembling with exertion. you turned around. “lee minho, you are insane,” you finally croaked after you found your voice. the sight of his flushed face and satisfied smirk sent another rush of arousal through your heated body. “and for the record, i didn’t know i was into… that either,” you chuckled and shook your head in disbelief, “but let’s do it again.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #lee know smut #lee know x reader #;skz blurbs

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 12 days

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A Dance in Death

Title: A Dance in Death

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Word Count: ~3,927

In which Alastor takes the reader out to Mimzy’s club. Things go sideways much too soon, but the Radio Demon is quick to make amends.

A/N: This is a part 2 of sorts to my previous Alastor x reader fic, Doubt, but it can also be read as its own individual fic! Hope you enjoy :)

Mimzy’s speakeasy was most known for three things.

One, it was known for its captivating acts and performances. Demons and sinners from all around Pentagram City had heard stories and whispers about what could be experienced there. Two, it was known for being one of the most lively and entertaining places on this side of Hell. And three, it was known for being on the wrong side of town, making it the perfect place for no-good demons to spend their time and even do discrete business, so long as they paid their dues to Mimzy, of course.

That last point probably should have kept you away from this place. But you couldn’t help but feel safe knowing that you had come on the arm of the Radio Demon himself. After all, who would dare approach you with Alastor around?

Nobody, as it turned out. You and Alastor had been sitting in a corner booth for almost an hour now, and nobody had dared to come within ten feet of you, save for one unfortunate server who had graciously provided you both with your drinks before scurrying off and hiding, not coming back even once.

And although you enjoyed any time that you got to spend alone with Alastor, you couldn’t help but notice that the two of you were both on edge that night.

You, on one hand, simply wanted to dance. It wasn’t often that you were able to go to bars or speakeasies, and you would have loved nothing more than to lead the demon across from you on to the dancefloor. But you knew better than that. Alastor’s interest in you came with limits that you hadn’t yet discovered, but you’d be double-damned if you were going to find them out tonight.

Although you had to admit, as you gazed out longingly at the dancing demons on the floor, that you wouldn’t mind at least trying to share a drink and a conversation with your partner. But that wouldn’t happen until Mimzy finally decided to saunter over to your table.

Which led you to the reason for Alastor’s impatience.

The whole reason that he had invited you out tonight was because Mimzy had requested an audience with him at her place of business. To discuss what, you weren’t sure, but you knew that the Radio Demon hated to be kept waiting.

His impatience was starting to become evident, though it was likely that nobody around you noticed anything amiss. You, however, had become well versed in reading Alastor’s silent cues.

He had yet to touch his drink, though his clawed hand was firmly wrapped around the glass. He was surveying the building with apparent disinterest, but you could see the way that his sharp gaze roamed over each and every other demon and sinner present. You could see tension in the corners of his ever present smile, even though his eyes were hooded in an expression of mild boredom.

As you downed the last drops of your drink, you risked a glance over to Alastor once again. You had wanted to strike up a conversation since you had stepped foot through the door, but hadn’t wanted to distract him from his thoughts. But when his grip around the glass tightened once again, your internal war finally ended. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to have him suddenly lose his composure and bring the whole place to the ground.

You cleared your throat lightly as you placed your glass back down on the table. You received Alastor’s attention immediately, his eyes darting over to yours. “Yes, my dear?”

You smiled back at him. “Mimzy has a lot of nerve hyping this place up when it has such terrible customer service, doesn’t she?”

With no small amount of satisfaction, you noticed Alastor’s smile ease into something that almost resembled kind amusement. “Indeed,” Alastor hummed. “Though I must say, her choice in song is quite enjoyable.”

You shrugged, looking back at the dance floor. “It’s fine to dance to, I suppose. Not so much fun when you’re stuck sitting and waiting for someone to show up.”

There was no response. You returned your gaze to Alastor to see him looking at you almost curiously. “I wasn’t aware that you were one for dancing, my dear.”

A laugh bubbled up and pushed its way through your lips before you could stop it. You pressed your fingers to your lips to try and conceal it as Alastor tilted his head at you in confused interest.

At the sound of your laughter, his shadow suddenly perked up, quickly making its way over and sitting beside you.

When your giggle had finally subsided, you opened your mouth to respond to Alastor’s comment. It wasn’t completely his fault that he knew so little about your past life, after all, but you hadn’t expected that he, of all people, would make such blatant assumptions.

Before you could get a word out, though, the shadow placed a clawed hand under your chin, tilting your head to face it. Its fingers wandered until they reached the base of your throat before gently clawing their way back up, almost as if trying to coax another laugh out of you through touch alone.

It was so much more intimate than you had thought Alastor was capable of.

But then Alastor waved a hand in the air, summoning his shadow back to his side. It obeyed almost immediately, caressing your throat once more before melting back into the floor and returning to its rightful place.

You cleared your throat again, this time in an attempt to fight the red spots on your cheeks. Not that their presence had escaped Alastor’s notice. His smile had widened dramatically, though thankfully, he chose not to comment on the interaction, instead waiting for a response to his earlier comment.

“I do dance,” you finally replied, looking back up at the Overlord. “I used to dance plenty before…well, you know,” you said with a small grin. “I died.”

Alastor waved away your comment with a flourish. “Ah, yes, I do see how such a thing could impede on your abilities for a moment. Though, if I’m not mistaken, you now have two perfectly functioning legs.”

“But I haven’t been to a club since before I died. And there’s not much opportunity to show off my moves at the hotel,” you replied with a shrug. You tilted your head at the demon. “And you? Do you dance?”

The Overlord smiled wistfully. “Oh yes, I was quite known for my dancing abilities back in the land of the living.”

“I thought you were known for being a mass murdering radio host.”

Alastor shrugged, giving you a devious grin. “I’ve always been multitalented, my dear.”

You laughed again, this time trying to ignore the eager look you received from both Alastor and his shadow.

“You know,” you said slyly once you had calmed yourself, looking down at your empty glass. “I wouldn’t mind brushing up on my skills tonight after your meeting.” You looked up innocently, meeting Alastor’s eyes. “If you haven’t lost your impeccable skills, that is.”

The demon’s eyes flashed. “Careful, mon chere. I-”

“Alastor! How’re you doing, doll?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of the new voice. You stared as a short, blonde woman made her way across the floor, arms raised in welcome and a broad smile on her face.

Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all bothered as he greeted the woman. “Mimzy, dear,” he drawled, turning away from you. His smile stretched unnaturally. “You are extraordinarily late.”

The woman- Mimzy- waved her hand in indifference. “I’m busy running a business, Al, you know how it is. Can’t eva get anyone to do what you want without a bit of prodding.”

Her gaze slid over to you, eyes widening as her smile grew. “Say, Alastor, did you bring me a new toy?” Her eyes roamed over you slowly. “She’s a little dull, but I can spruce her right up.”

You suddenly felt very exposed.

You recoiled slightly, attempting to keep your movements unnoticeable as you pressed yourself further into the booth to get away from the Mimzy’s prying eyes.

You tried not to notice the way that other demons and sinners had begun to glance over at the sudden appearance of the bar’s owner. They aren’t looking at you, you told yourself. But you couldn’t help but take in Mimzy’s confident appearance and attitude, coupled with Alastor’s calm poise. You could see how the Mimzy could have mistaken you for one of Alastor’s wayward souls.

Almost as if it could sense your discomfort, Alastor’s shadow suddenly reared up and placed itself directly in front of you, blocking you from Mimzy’s line of sight.

“Unfortunately, Mimzy dear,” Alastor said from opposite you, though he avoided looking in your direction. “Charlie has grown quite attached to her little friend, and I doubt she would be thrilled to discover that I had allowed her to become a part of your…”

“Productions,” you piped up. Alastor’s shadow looked back at you in delight before shifting through the air to sit beside you once again.

“Precisely,” Alastor said.

Mimzy only shrugged, giving you a wink. “Well, I’m here if you change your mind, hun.”

She turned back to Alastor. “Let’s you and me talk for a bit, huh? I know this sorta thing ain’t really your cup of tea. I’ve got a room in the back that we can use. Your little doll will be alright on her own for a while, won’t she?”

At her words, Alastor finally turned to face you once again, his eyes roaming over your face for only a moment before he stood. “Of course. I never would have brought her otherwise.”

With that, he made to follow Mimzy without so much as a glance back in your direction. A move that he had made on purpose, you were sure. After all, it simply wouldn’t do to have others believe that the Radio Demon actually cared for someone.

Even so, you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment as the two sinners walked away. From beside you, in the dim light that the club so generously provided, Alastor’s shadow placed its hand on yours comfortingly. You turned to face it with a smile. “At least I still have you.”

The shadow grinned, using its other hand to gently cradle your cheek, pulling you closer until your foreheads met. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling as your heart grew light. The shadow might not have been Alastor himself, but you had learned enough to know that it was heavily influenced by Alastor’s own thoughts, feelings, and commands. This was as close to affectionate that he would ever be with you.

Suddenly, the shadow’s touch left you.

You opened your eyes to see that it was nowhere to be seen.

“My, my,” a voice said from behind you. You jerked forward in surprise, spinning around to see a tall, winged imp casually leaning against the booth. He definitely hadn’t been in the building a few minutes ago, you noted.

The imp leaned forward. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

You flushed, glancing around to see if you could catch a glimpse of Alastor’s shadow. But it was as if it had never been beside you in the first place. Which would explain why the imp had decided to approach you at all. Nobody would have dared spoken to you if they knew that you were here with an Overlord.

You opened your mouth to tell him as much before you caught yourself, clamping your mouth shut. No matter how well Alastor’s conversation went with Mimzy, it was likely that he never would have danced with you anyway. There were too many eyes and ears here for him to let his guard down.

“You here alone?” the imp asked, trying his luck once more.

You fixed a smile on your face. If this was your only chance to dance, you were sure as Hell going to take it.

You stood, extending your hand in greeting. “Would you like to dance?”

The imp’s flirtatious smile changed to one of intrigue. “Straight to the point. I like it.”

You wiggled your fingers. “Are we going to dance, or what?”

The imp grinned, taking your hand and leading you on to the dance floor.

Sure, it wasn’t exactly what you were hoping for when you and Alastor had come to Mimzy’s club, but you figured that it would at least be a decent substitute for something that you would never be able to have.

You felt your smile slipping as the pair of you began to move to the music.

You hated moments like these, when you realized that no matter what you did or how you felt, you would never be able to show your feelings for Alastor in public. It wasn’t just the fact that he disliked physical touch, which you had never faulted him for. It was the fact that as one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords, he felt the overwhelming need to keep up an appearance. One that did not, unfortunately, include you.

A gentle touch snapped you back to reality. “You alright?” the imp asked.

No, you weren’t. But you weren’t going to let that stop you from dancing.

You nodded, taking the imp’s hand in yours as you began to move to the music once again. “I’m fine.” You smirked. “Now, show me what you’ve got.”

~~~

If you were to later ask anyone at Mimzy’s speakeasy what had happened that night, you would probably receive a whole mix of stories.

Some would say that the Radio Demon had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, his antlers growing and his bones cracking as he laid waste to the bar, presumably for fun or out of an unjust anger.

Others would say that he had come to seek some sort of revenge on a winged imp that had been spotted dancing before he suddenly disappeared, not to be seen again.

One specific witness, who shall remain nameless, would say that she had been speaking to an old friend about a business opportunity that he had foolishly taken no interest in. As she was speaking, a shadow had entered the room, whispering in its owner's ear. Her old friend had walked away from her, re-entering her bar, where he was met with the view of an imp dancing with the very woman that he had brought here in the first place.

The witness hadn’t even had time to blink before her friend had taken on his true demon form, batting people aside as if they were only flies before promptly picking up the imp dancing with the woman and melting into the shadows with him.

When her friend returned, he refused to say what he had done with the poor imp, though the witness had no trouble making a few assumptions. He had walked over to the women, gently taken her hand, and gave the witness a clipped farewell before vanishing with the women into the shadows.

It was a brutal display, even for the Radio Demon. If the witness had to guess, she would assume that perhaps the woman had something to do with the whole debacle.

Not that she would ever say so to anyone else, of course. She knew better.

You, however, had no trouble saying straight to Alastor’s face what you believed had happened.

“We were dancing, Al. It was harmless. If I’d needed your help, you would have known.”

“You would never have summoned me if he was threatening you, my dear.”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. The two of you had been going back and forth like this ever since he had so graciously brought you back to the hotel from Mimzy’s bar.

You lifted your head and took a breath before continuing. “If he was threatening me, we probably wouldn’t have been just dancing.”

Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously, his shadow rearing up and scowling in disgust.

You whirled around and pointed at the shadow. “And you. You went and told him that something bad was happening, didn’t you? You are a liar and a rat, my friend.”

At your words, the shadow suddenly shrank down in size and hid behind its owner, almost as if trying to avoid your accusatory glare.

Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t break eye contact. “He only meant to protect you, my dear, the way he was instructed to.”

“What did you think I would need protecting from, exactly? I can’t exactly die again, can I?”

“There are things far worse than a second death, my dear,” Alastor said with false sweetness.

He was right, you knew. You had almost been subjected to such a thing after your death, when you had sold your soul to the Vees. You still weren’t sure exactly how it had happened, but Alastor himself had found out about you and somehow saved you from a life of imprisonment and torture.

Not everyone was as lucky as you were.

But that wasn’t why you were upset.

As soon as Alastor had saved you from the Vees, you had been determined to help him even a fraction of the way that he had helped you. You owed him so much more than that, you knew, but it was the only thing that you could give. And so, from that moment forward, you had tried your very best to become a solid and stable presence for Alastor, unmoving in your trust in him and, hopefully, eventually something like a friend.

But tonight, you had done the exact opposite. To see the Radio Demon defend you was to know that he felt things like affection, or even something more than indifference. That wouldn’t do for his reputation at all, you knew, and you hated yourself for being the cause of it.

You sighed in defeat, crossing your arms over your chest in defense. “I know that,” you said, holding your position and glaring daggers at the Overlord. “But I also know that you risked a lot today by protecting me. I’m not worth losing your power over-”

You gasped as Alastor appeared directly in front of you, glaring intensely. He didn’t lift a finger, but you swore you could feel the heat of his gaze.

“I do hope you haven’t finally started to doubt me, my dear.”

“Never,” you promised, searching his gaze.

The Overlord stepped back, his stretched out smile immediately concealing his true feelings. “Wonderful,” he said. “Then we both understand that my power and status will forever remain.”

You nodded once before finally breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at the floor.

You could feel the anger seeping out of you slowly, replaced by embarrassment. Of course Alastor would never give up his power for you. Even if someone had truly seen the incident, it was unlikely that anyone would ever be able to use it to their advantage. You were talking about the Radio Demon himself, after all.

“You’re right,” you muttered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “I made a foolish assumption.” You smiled to yourself. “I seem to be full of those today. I’m sorry.”

You were met with silence.

But before you could look up, you suddenly felt the cool touch of a shadow. It rested its hands against your cheeks, tilting your head up to make eye contact. It moved its thumbs in slow circles, leaning down until your foreheads were touching. It didn’t move any closer than that, but you knew that this was more than anyone else had ever received.

It was lovely.

But oh, how you wished it were really him.

The shadow stepped back, returning to its place beside its owner.

Alastor himself acted as though he hadn’t noticed the interaction at all, instead looking around your room as if seeing it for the first time.

“I do plan to maintain my powers, my dear,” Alastor repeated.

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, he pushed forward. “Although,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “I certainly wouldn’t mind losing a few souls to keep what is most certainly mine.”

He looked towards you then, his gaze hard, as if daring you to argue.

And you should have. You should have told him that you weren’t worth losing souls for. You should have told him that you only wanted to help him, never hinder him.

You should have done lots of things.

What you did do, however, was smile and duck your head to hide your rising blush.

You looked back up and extended your hand wordlessly.

Alastor looked down at it before glancing back up at you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question as his shadow looked on eagerly from behind him.

Your smile only widened. “I believe, good sir, that you owe me a dance.”

The shadow nearly leapt with excitement, rushing forward and taking your hand.

You laughed at its enthusiasm before Alastor stepped forward and waved his hand, whisking the shadow away and taking its place.

He placed his hand under yours, bringing your hand up to place a soft kiss on the back of your knuckles before releasing you and straightening. Slowly, he brought his claws to the base of your throat before gently dragging them back up until he reached your chin. He tilted your face up further to meet his gaze before dropping his hand down to yours once more.

With his other hand, he waved his staff, summoning a slow dance tune that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.

You tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks and looked up curiously. “Didn’t you used to dance to songs that were a bit more lively?”

Alastor smiled gently down at you before summoning his shadow and surrendering his staff to it. “I did indeed, mon chere. But we aren’t exactly alive now, are we?”

You smiled back in agreement. “No, I suppose we’re not.”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as he placed his hand on your waist. He lowered his head down until your foreheads were touching and began swaying, taking you with him on his slow trek around your bedroom floor.

You couldn’t have asked for anything more.

~~~

If you asked anyone at the hotel what had happened in your room that night, you would receive a few different stories.

Angel Dust would have told you that the Radio Demon had suckered a poor woman into going out with him that night, and you were most likely getting it on.

Charlie would have told you that she hadn’t seen either Alastor or the hotel’s newest resident all evening, though she doubted that the two of you had gone off somewhere together. Right?

Husk would have told you that he felt sorry for the woman who had gotten caught in the Radio Demon’s line of sight. You were such a sweet thing, and you deserved so much better.

You would have simply smiled and shrugged, giving nothing away.

Nobody would have dared ask the Radio Demon, of course.

But if anyone had bothered to ask the shadows, they would have received a rather lovely story about two sinners who had found their peace, only for a moment, dancing in each other’s arms that night.

An Overlord and a sinner.

A woman and a man.

Two damned souls, finding home at last.

A/N 2: I didn’t get to proofread, but I hope you guys still enjoyed it! If you read the first fic (or even if you haven’t), I’m thinking of making another part where it’s platonic Angel Dust x reader and he finally gets to give her a makeover. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Also, I want to write more Alastor x reader (maybe a continuation of sorts, maybe not) so let me know if you guys want to be tagged in those!

Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx-blog @maybememoriesx

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urf1lterr · 1 year

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afterglow | pedro pascal [1/3]

"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"

summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature

word count: 6.8k

status: 1/3 complete

author's note: i actually started this weeks ago but never had the chance to finish. hope you guys like this short one shot even though its gonna be two parts lol. not edited.

"Quick! Spray her hair some more! We need to make sure there's no flyaways," your manager demanded to your assistant, handing over a large can of hairspray.

Objecting, you swat it away making her gasp. "Too much will make me look greasy."

Here you were, all dressed up in your tight corset red dress in the back of some SUV one of your assistant's ordered being a nervous wreck.

If it wasn't for the two shots you had taken before, you were sure you would have fainted right about now. It was your first time attending the notable award show nominated.

And alone.

You did attend the past two years; however, you always had your boyfriend near from a distance as you walked down the red carpet and participated in interviews.

Well, ex boyfriend. But that's irrelevant now.

Of course you knew your team would be three steps behind you majority of the time, but it wasn't going to be the same knowing you had to sit alone for most of the show, especially since you were nominated.

Not that you knew you would win, you were up against women who dominated the screen year after year while you recently got your first big lead after so many years. But it was indeed a huge honor to even come to this point as you knew this might never happen again.

Pulling up to the main entrance, you could hear how loud the fans and paparazzi were through the thick, tinted windows. Your driver quickly jumped out of the car before rounding his way to yours, swiftly opening it, the chilly air instantly making you shiver.

Gulping, you try to hide any signs of fear in your body by smiling widely and immediately directing waves and bows to the crowd as your manager was right behind your ear, constantly informing you on how quicker you needed to be.

You were finally able to get rid of her when another worker offered their hand to you, ushering you to the main carpet for your pictures.

Taking a deep breathe, you are instantly dragged to a spot to start your first poses, doing the same angles- hands on hip and shifting of head- which the paparazzi demanded you do, as you followed down the long path.

Already in the middle of the walkway, you move your arms behind your back as you send a warm smile before hearing another roar from fans. Glancing to your side, you fight the urge to scoff knowing damn well you'd wake up to news outlet making headlines over it.

You just found it incredibly annoying the massive attention being displayed over nothing.

It just so happened that your infuriating ex thought it would be a brilliant idea to make his mark on the carpet right after you. Mentally sighing, you tried finding other things to plant in your head to stop you from cursing him out.

You were not going to let him get to you, especially not on your special night.

Once you came down the end of the road, you were met with your team again before being thrown into a line for interviews.

"If it makes you feel any better," you heard your assistant move up to your ear, whispering as you were neatly fixing the large necklace draped around your neck. "He was totally checking you out."

Backing your head away from hers, you give you a gross look as she shrugged. "Don't make me barf before the show even starts."

One thing about you assistant, she's been with you since the very beginning. From your first agency, she had been assigned to you until she was forced to cease the partnership as you changed companies. So she did that, but with her original company and took the move with you.

She says it's because that's what friends do, you think it's because of the increase in pay.

Since following you around for years, she witnessed all the shy, awkward, romantic, and crying stages of majority of your relationships.

Most certainly remembering the last one real well.

Him being your first love didn't make it any better as it led to you breaking down over the silliest things for months when you should've been moving on.

But every time there was a chance it was understandable to mention his name, your assistant wasted no time trying to make him stuck in your head.

Let's just say she believed what you two had was...special.

Blocking out the rest of her remarks, knowing where she was headed, you get called into an interview. Mentally groaning, it was always the same old questions every year that bore you to death.

How are you? Who are you wearing? Are you in a relationship?

You would always reply truthfully until it came to the last part. Your ex didn't mind publicly announcing it, basically pleading for its unveil anytime you two went out.

You on the other hand disagreed. Being a prominent actor himself, you knew the media would slowly take a toll and make your relationship harder.

This theory often left the two of you fighting constantly for many months, committing cruel and nasty jabs to one another before calling your almost three year-old relationship quits.

That was 10 months ago, tonight being the first time you'd be in the same room since screaming unholy words to each other's faces, throwing fragile objects in all directions before he stormed out of your home, never coming back.

Well, you did change all the locks that same night.

But long story short, only family and friends knew about your relationship from start to finish. Fortunately with that, you didn't have to deal with fans freaking out over the two of you being near one another.

Save that for Austin Butler and Vanessa Hudgens.

Forming a proud smirk, you beam back to the interviewer as she pushed a mic up your mouth. "I'm actually seeing someone."

Gasping, the interviewer looked at the camera in shock, trying to keep her audience engaged, before stepping closer. "Who's the lucky man- or woman?! We don't discriminate." You could hear the fans in the back cheering as more celebrities were passing by. "And just how long have you been keeping your lover locked up?"

'Lover', really?

Faking a grin you knew she thought was believable, you wave your hand in front of her. "He's not ready to be discovered quite yet, he's a little shy-," you wink to the camera as she squeals. "-but 9 months next week."

Ending the conversation with her wishing your nomination and 'relationship' the best of luck, you walked off to find your assistant giving you a disappointed look. "What?"

"Why would you do that?"

Shrugging, you move a strand of hair over your shoulder. "It's not that serious, maybe it'll gain me more publicity."

You didn't care for the attention, you just wanted to find a way to prove that you were moving on in life- for your fans at least. Even if it was a lie and you were still the same person you were 10 months ago.

She just stood there, making her silence loud and clear that she was not by the very least happy. Deep down you knew it was a low move to pull, but it's not like you did it in front of your ex.

Maybe the news will spread tomorrow when you don't have to breathe in the same air as him. Better for you, nonetheless.

"I love your dress," you heard someone praise you as you were in search for your seat. Turning, you were met with your familiar red-head friend. "It really compliments your eye look."

Smiling, you bowed to the famous Jessica Chastain, another actress you met a handful of times.

As the two of you reached out to one another a couple of times, you were indeed introduced by your ex as his close friend was actually a lead in a series with her.

"I could say the same for you, that necklace is breathtaking," you gush as she waves off your warm acclaim.

"I see we're sitting next to each other," she grins ear to ear, gesturing towards the seats nearby. "Good, now I won't have to only talk to my husband during the commercial breaks."

That's how the remaining half an hour went by, catching up on one another's life before the lights slightly dimmed, signaling the start of the award show.

Opening with Jimmy Kimmel's monologue, you quietly giggled from all the jokes he presented, especially the one about Pauly Shore you were sure he would take personally.

Towards the end of his act, you notice the act of violence come up, obviously referring to last year's fallout with Chris Rock and Will Smith, before he started acknowledging popular film heroes across the room.

You slightly jump as his first victim was Michael B. Jordan, exposing you and Jessica in the back trying to jump out of from the camera view but poorly failing, making the people near you laugh.

It wasn't even 30 seconds later before you heard the mention of an all too familiar character being called out, your ex boyfriend in his thick black glasses appearing on the big screen while acting tough to the lens.

Oh, how you used to love those glasses.

But you did notice another person making a small presence in the corner, causing you to pause for a moment. You were sure you'd seen this individual walking pass you down the row to his located seat.

Turning your head to see where this stranger was, your eyes instantly locked with the one person you hoped you wouldn't be near. How had you not have known he was literally sitting behind you- well, three people diagonal from you but same thing.

He was still behind you.

What made things worse was the fact his sister was right by his side, sending you a warm smile as you quickly turned your head forward, not daring to move an inch the entire show it if meant you didn't have to face his gaze again.

Continuing your attention on the stage, you didn't notice the set of eyes burning your side. In fact, that spilt second you did notice him, you didn't take account of the way his expression softened in heartfelt- eventually breaking once the swift turn of your discomfort became apparent.

It seemed you truly were disgusted by him.

But once the act was over, you felt Jessica lean over to you. "Definitely rooting for you," she lightly squealed. "If the nerves get to you, hold my hand."

You send her a questionable look. "For what?"

"Your nomination, silly," she giggled as your eyes widened. That was happening now? The memo you were given weeks ago said opposite. "Best Supporting Actress is up next!"

"But I was told it wouldn't be announced till the second hour."

She sends you a uncertain shrug, not sure what to say. There must have been a last minute change to the line up- which was totally fine, but you were not prepared for your nerves to hit.

Exhaling a shaky breath, you rub your hands together as you see the production team walking near the stage for the upcoming selection. You couldn't at least get a commercial break?

As the lights started dimming and the crowed cheered, you could see the two presenters make their way to the middle of the stage before the clips of films played.

Cringing, you jump and quickly close your eyes as you saw yourself on the gigantic screen. It's very weird watching yourself act out a character, which is why you avoid it at all costs.

Especially the crying scenes- you always thought of Kim Kardashian's crying meme whenever your tears were on the screen.

Your ex would say otherwise, constantly praising you every chance he had when you would appear on a film, claiming you had such a passionate aura when you expressed yourself. Often following with his additional, "it's what made me fall in love with you."

Swaying your neck, you try to clear your mind. Fuck your thoughts for daring to think about him in such a crucial moment.

Wishing for time to fly by quicker, you completely zone out as the wait seemed longer than usual. It also didn't help that the camera was zoomed up to your face trying to capture your reaction to this nerve wracking milestone.

You let out a sigh of relief as another actress, Jamie Lee Curtis, was awarded- thrilled that you didn't have to go up and make a dreadful speech that surely wouldn't be planned.

"Why do you seem thankful?"

Turning to Jessica, you send her a chuckle. "I probably would've fallen down the stairs if I did win," you declare as she rolls her eyes. "Plus, the other nominees had more of a lively feel with their roles than me- they deserved it more."

The rest of the show did seem to fly by smoothly. There was the segment where your ex did have to present an award in which you were forced to pull a contented face in case any random camera caught you.

He seemed nervous, but he did do well considering the room was filled with remarkable individuals- it was very intimidating to say the least.

But you weren't ever going to tell him that.

Standing up and patting your dress down, you quickly excuse yourself in search for your assistant during the intermission. You really needed to touch up your makeup and she was the only who had your powder in her bag.

Walking near the side of the stage, you slip through a door and make it to the backstage area where most celebrities' teams were scattered around, trying to be useful and take hundreds of pictures.

"There you are," you smile as you catch a glimpse of her bright red hair from the corner of your eye near a wall. "I really nee- uhm"

You halt as you were met with the same presence of the man who battered your heart and left it to rot months ago. The one who caused the constant breakdowns in your car after every Starbucks run from the frequent trips you two used to share.

The one who left you stranded for his ex.

"Oh, hey!" your assistant beamed while you just gave her an agitated expression, trying your best to stay calm and collected before you became the opposite. "You're not supposed to be here- the show is still go-"

"I need my powder," you grit your teeth, causing her to suck in her lips by your noticeable anger.

Quickly reaching to her bag and unzipping it, you tried ignoring the amused expression your ex was portraying as he leaned up against the wall in hope you would spare him a glance.

You didn't.

Placing the product in your hand, she shakily reaches out to you. "Here, I can take it once you're done w-"

"I'll hold on to it," you dryly cut her off, swiftly turning your back to them before speed walking towards the door you came in from. All you wanted to do now was sit through the remainder of the awards and sleep on the car ride home.

But of course things never went your way.

Hearing loud footsteps of shoes, you feel a gush of wind hit you as a person barged their way in front of you, causing you to stop your movements. "You didn't have to be so harsh on her, you know?"

Holding back your laughter, you mock him. "Harsh? What's so harsh about doing your job?"

He releases a wary look, knowing you would never act like this unless something was bothering you.

Sadly, he knew he was that something- or somebody.

"I was the one who went up to her," he explains, trying to defend her from your future wrath. "She was only kind enough to stay-."

"I don't care what my workers do when I am not around," you cut him off, glaring at him. "Nor you."

With that, you make your exit before he could further justify himself. In reality, you were upset she was talking to him, but you knew he must've started the conversation and could understand why she stayed.

But what really hurt was the fact you knew deep down she believed you were in the wrong as to why you resented him. Maybe the sight of the two of them triggered your feelings, but for a person who's never sat down and heard both stories she was not one to have any say as to how you should feel.

Sitting down on your seat, Jessica sends you a worried look by how fast you strutted back as if you were running away from something- your past. Returning a reassuring one, you steer clear from the body walking through the aisle as they eyed you down, ultimately brushing your backside as they shuffled to their located seat.

Goosebumps arose all over from the split-second contact. For such short contact, it was sure as hell strong as his warmth hit you.

Straightening your posture, you exhale lowly, trying to compose yourself. You don't want anyone thinking you seemed triggered or anxious because you weren't. And you were going to prove it, making it your best interest to stop thinking about all the unnecessary issues in your life and let loose a bit.

And that's exactly what you did.

"I think I broke my toe," you whine, hopping on your right leg as one hand held onto your left ankle. "How am I going to dance now?"

"That's enough shots for you," you heard Florence exclaim, quickly taking the small cup away from your right hand as you huff, trying to fight back.

It was no use, once determined you knew there was no stopping her from doing her thing.

"Give her a bottle of water and she'll come back to life," you heard Shailene suggest as you tried your best to stay balanced.

After the award show you swear you were going to go straight home until a certain somebody caused you to flip your plans around and party.

That somebody being Andrew Garfield.

"Why end all the fun so early?" you hum, finally feeling your feet numb from the pain and standing better. "The party is just starting!"

Swaying your arms crazily as your hips were rocking in all directions, Shailene's laughter fills your ears as you miss Florence's disturbed stare.

Your dancing was not a pretty sight to see.

"It started almost three hours ago!" Shailene called out over the blaring music that was playing on the dance floor. You were sure it was some EDM song until you took a notice of the familiar lyrics.

Instantly freezing, your friends stop in worry as your body movements halt. Slowly pointing your finger up in the air, you gasp. "Is this Ciara?!"

Feeling a body collide with yours, an arm immediately wrapped around your shoulder. "Oh god! I couldn't find the bathroom, they have like 20 rooms here" Andrew complained, out of breath. "I almost pissed myself!"

Florence walked in front of you two, taking his cup away from him as well. "And no more drinking for you, too. Sir."

Weeping and pulling a despairing pout, his shoulders fall. "Aw c'mon, I wasn't even dri- holy shit, is this Ciara?"

Excitedly jumping up and down, you rapidly nod as he cheers along, both of you fan girling to the iconic song choice. Your other friends just stared, not quite sure what your next actions would be.

Pulling away from you and gently pushing people to the side, Andrew began forming a circle as you giggled in your hand by how energetic he was becoming.

The large opening caught the attention of the other attendees who began walking over to see what all the commotion was.

"You're causing so much-"

"Shush! I'm about to do my 1, 2 step!" Andrew placed a hand to Florence's face, ignoring her parenting skills before swinging his body smoothly to the middle of the circle.

'I shake it like Jello, make the boys say hello 'cause they know I'm rockin' the beat'

Cringing hard, your two sober friends began covering their faces as Andrew allowed the dance floor to acknowledge his presence.

Soon enough, the crowd got bigger as guests began vibing to the rhythm, eventually making the space and air around you hotter.

'I know you heard about a lot of great MC's but they aint got nothing one me'

Constantly tripping over your heels, which you knew would reveal fucked up feet tomorrow, you find Florence and leap to her side, watching as her once stern expression was slowly forming into a grin.

She could never stay annoyed for too long, her lively personality forbid it.

"Because I'm 5 foot 2, I wanna dance with you and I'm sophisticated fun!" you hear someone beside you scream as you followed along, wrapping your loose arms around hers as the two of you begin twirling through the crowd.

Behind your drunken state, you just knew your sober-self tomorrow was going to be praying no one records your embarrassing moves.

The song seems to end faster than what you had anticipated, going from the funky beat to a familiar pop one which made you happier.

Shrieking in joy, Andrew jumped back to Florence and you once realization filled his ears. "I'm about to fucking go insane right now! This son-" stopping, he turned his head to find someone swaying right beside him before leaning towards their ear. "This is your song!"

Bursting out in laughter, you see the devoted artist agree to the obvious note he had made.

"Sorry about him," you intervene, your words coming out in slurs. "He's a dedicated Swiftie...as well as me," you squeak and watch as she waves her hand in appreciation.

God, if only you could see how badly you were humiliating yourself in front of the legendary Taylor Swift.

Not being able to begin your upcoming requests on scoring some of her sold-out concert tickets, you were dragged back onto the dance floor by your very hyper dance partner.

'I knew you were trouble when you walked in, so shame on me now'

Walking closer to get a better look at you two, Shailene's eyes widened as the song continued. "He better not-"

"Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground!" Andrew sung, falling on his knees with his head back. Following after him, you sink to the ground in despair as others continued screaming the lyrics over and over again.

Everybody's a Swifite.

Getting back up by the help of Shailene, you begin to serenade her as Taylor's famous lyrics start catching up. Expressing a face of sorrow and grief, you dramatically chant.

'And the saddest fear...'

But with the crowd of people pushing their way through, your vision ends up falling upon another person- one you were sure you would've avoided if you weren't as plastered as you were now.

'Comes creeping in...'

A sudden harsh push has you involuntarily making your way to your target, you accidentally pushing their shoulders back as they halt their movements, surprised you were even giving them any bit of regard in public until they realized what had happened.

Oh god, how can you be in this situation with a sad Taylor song playing. How ironic.

Noticing the sufferable look of discomfort forming upon your features by his proximity, he tries taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you from the rough crowd but you rejected his hands.

'That you never loved me or her'

Giving him one tough push of his chest, which was incredibly hard by how weak the night has made you, his face filled with hurt at the sight of your developing teary eyes.

You couldn't help it, all the memories of your relationship began flooding your mind. The laughs, the love, the arguments- and in this moment you weren't stable enough to contain your true feelings towards him.

Trying to reach back out for you, your ex steps forward but someone else begins to distract you.

"Or anyone, or anything, YEAHH!" Andrew hollers, viscously shaking your shoulders with his eyes closed before opening them, his beaming grin falling instantly. "Did I make you cry?!"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head and look down as you feel tears slowly begin pouring out. "Hide me before Taylor sees me, I don't want to look ugly in front of her." you joke, trying to stop his flourishing worries but it didn't.

Instead, it made him even more concerned by how unfazed you were after releasing your waterworks out of nowhere.

Nodding, he holds your hand and begins to lead you away from the crowd but another grip was holding you back. Looking at your other hand, you move your gaze to discover your ex was the one who ceased your steps, sending you an alarmed stare in return.

Trying to free yourself, you shake your hand vigorously as he leaned into you. "You can't just breakdown in front of me and expect me to leave you alone!"

Scoffing, you move your face away from his crazed one. "I'm drunk, ignore me."

"A drunk mind speaks the hidden truth."

Pausing your movements, you stare him down as he doesn't back away but only frowns by your rude attitude. He wasn't going to let this nonstop quarrel continue anymore, especially when you obviously weren't fine if you just fell apart over a silly Taylor Swift song.

In his eyes, you clearly weren't fine with him. He wanted to fix that.

Inhaling sharply, you forcefully pull your hand away as he winces by the sudden release. Trying to find a clever comeback in order to take a win on this minor bickering, you allow your drunken-self to take the lead. "I prefer Spider-man, anyway."

What the fuck? You pull a disgusted face, slapping your forehead once your back was facing Pedro to hide your embarrassment. How was that fucking clever? Spider-man- really?

Turning to Andrew, you tug his hand and swiftly make your way through the bodies of the crowd as your two other friends followed behind, definitely witnessing your intense argument with your ex- which you were sure people finally uncovered.

Strolling through the back door, a cold breeze hits your body causing you to shiver and clutch your arms together tighter in hopes of forming some warmth.

"Your car should arrive in a few minutes, Ma'am," you hear the valet attendant claim, awkwardly standing still as your makeup was smudged near the corners of your eyes.

You thank him as your friends quietly gawk you, curious to figure out what was going on but not wanting to trigger you more.

"Will you three stop staring at me like that and ask already?" you groan as they jump in alarm. "I know you're all very confused."

Slowly taking a step forward, Florence placed a soft hand on your arm for comfort. "We don't want to intrude. It's your business."

"I believe I welcomed the party in my business ten minutes ago," you sarcastically smile. "So, it's fine."

Sighing, Shailene was the first to speak up as Andrew gave you a sympathetic face, trying to be respectful. "You and Pedro dated?"

Shrugging, you nipped on your bottom lip to prevent the fear of tears from flowing again. "I guess?" you lightly chuckle, trying to lighten your mood a bit. "3 years must have meant something, right?"

Pulling you in for a hug after capturing your weak voice crack, Andrew cradled you in his arms as Florence and Shailene tried rubbing your back.

Being emotional wasn't really your thing, so being consoled was very strange yet nice.

It made you feel wanted, sadly.

All thoughts through your mind disappeared once a deafening bang was heard from the building, the four of you pulling away from the hug instantly and averting your focus to where the sound directly came from- the back door.

With harsh steps, you make out Pedro's agitated body language as he rapidly shook his head and pointed at you while your friends froze in shock. "I'm sick of you always running away from me every time we talk. Is that fair? I can't have one normal fucking conversation with you because you scatter the second words leave my mouth."

Feeling your hands tighten up, you hug yourself tighter as he takes your silence as complete bullshit.

Now you wanna be quiet?

"Do you know how hard it was trying to find you? Hearing everyone ask if you were okay because you decided to come up to me and run out crying?" he sternly declared, his face now serious as he inched closer to you, your emotionless expression killing him. "As if that was my fault!"

You knew he wanted you to breakdown, to cry in his arms and beg for forgiveness by making you feel as if this was all your fault. It might be- but you weren't going to give him that satisfaction.

His greed to be right was popular during your arguments, but of course he never saw it that way.

Stepping in front of you, Andrew awkwardly tried blocking Pedro from your view to calm him down. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Andrew began speaking. "Look man, maybe now isn't the right time to be discussing this." Giving a slight nod to the street, he continued. "There's paparazzi nearby, we don't want this getting out."

Faking a laugh, Pedro tilted his head before glancing over Andrew's shoulder to meet your eyes. "I'm sure the paparazzi won't be at fault for that one, right y/n?"

God, you hated how petty he would become when provoked. It was one of the rare traits that made him so unattractive and you hated how you shared it.

Maybe you both are just too toxic for each other if you can't be near one another, after months, without fighting- even if you did start it. It was a clear sign after all.

Glaring, you were about to break and fight back until a familiar SUV pulled up. Internally cheering for the literal perfect moment, you slowly ignore his presence and make your way to the car door as he scoffs.

"So you're just going to leave again, like always," he flares, crossing his arms over his chest as you pull the door open. "You can't be serious."

Groaning loudly, you slam the door shut and march over, facing him head on as his strong expression never falters. Instead, he released his arms to his sides and angrily looked down at you. "Can you just leave me the fuck alone?!"

Gasping, Shailene and Florence look at each other in disbelief as Andrew scratched the back of his neck, trying to process where this may be leading to.

Nowhere good, that's for sure.

Before Pedro could speak, you harshly place your hand over his mouth to shut him up. Which he did, but he was certainly not happy by your actions. "Yeah! I'm the one who caused all of this-" you start as you feel your adrenaline going crazy. "-but it's done. Over. Nothing we can do now to change what happened and if you're so worried about it, I'll make a public apology if it means I won't ever have to deal with you again."

Frowning, he snatches your hand away from his face that causes Andrew to wince at the rough contact. "Worried? You think I care about what happened in there?"

You swear you could see sadness fill his eyes as they hid under the blaring anger that was presented. He didn't dare to look at any other direction but your own, scared if he did you would run away again.

But he knew deep down that was coming, soon.

"Why else are you this upset with me-"

"Because you act like we never happened!" he interjects, exclaiming loudly as your mouth shuts. "You-" he begins, running his hand over his hair in frustration, "-you pretend like I don't exist. That we weren't together for all those years and for what? Why do I deserve to be treated like shit in the end? Why am I the only one trying-"

"Trying?!" you shriek, laughing sarcastically as he sighed in response, not taking your tone well. "Really? I don't recall you trying to reach me after you left me-"

"Left you? You changed the locks to the damn house! I couldn't come back in-"

"You still left!" you yell, causing him to flinch by your increase in volume.

Feeling the warmth of someone's hand on your shoulder, you could already tell it was Shailene's by the rings on them. "Maybe we should go. It's getting late and soon people will be coming out..."

Slowly breaking eye-contact with Pedro, you nod and back away. You were done with this conversation and you surely didn't want to even attempt to talk things over when you already knew you both needed help in order to even let things go.

But letting things go didn't mean reconciling.

The sight of you walking away from him terrified him when he knew it may be the last time he was ever going to be face to face with you again for a while. He didn't want to give up, not now when he finally had your attention after months of trying to bump into you.

That's hard when you blocked him on everything and instructed your neighborhood security he was not welcomed to see you weeks after you changed your locks. Of course he could've just waited until you left the gate to trap you, but he wasn't a stalker.

Slamming the door shut after you opened it, Pedro leaned his back against it to halter your movements. Freezing at his quick actions, you try pushing him away but he doesn't budge.

"I know you don't have a boyfriend," he blurts out, breathing heavily as he blocked your hands from grasping the door handle. You immediately pause as he continues to let his thoughts flow freely out of his mouth.

Did he watch that interview? Impossible, he was walking the red carpet. He couldn't have had time to.

"I know you said that to seem happy or I don't know, make me jealous? Fuck, you could've said that to fake it for the cameras but I'm not going to stand here and act like you don't love me."

Choking from his last statement, you immediately try pushing him away from the door to get in, even sending a look over your shoulder, you glare at your friends who sheepishly stand there not helping, too invested to intervene.

Those little nosy bitches.

Finding your wrists, Pedro stops your forceful shoves and lowers your trembling arms. "You still love me."

Not being able to move, you were stuck in his trance. Maybe it was from all the chaos happening and your emotions spiraling out of control, but you felt the sudden urge to give up.

You were tired. Tired of fighting, crying, being mad whenever his name popped up.

You wanted all of this to stop.

Gripping the back of your neck, he leaned in and sent you a hopeless look before pulling your body closer as a way to find comfort and security. "And god, I still fucking love you and you know that."

With that, you were snapped back into reality.

Finding all the power you had left in you, you yanked your body out of his arms and jumped back before he could catch you. Angrily glaring at him, you make sure there's enough distance so he wouldn't latch himself back on you before speaking your mind.

"Don't say that," you spit out, redness filling your face as your fury kept growing. "Don't say 'you know that' when you didn't seem to when you were constantly out with your ex without telling me!"

The dropping jaws behind you went unnoticed as you stared Pedro down, catching the way his face ached with agony the longer you two continued your shared meltdown.

This was getting out of hand and you both knew it.

"Why would I tell you when I knew this is how you'd react?" he snapped back, his hurt now forming into irritation by how ignorant you were being. He knew he did nothing wrong, so why couldn't you believe him? "Nothing happened and you know that."

Pointing a finger at him, you release a snarky smirk as he tried to contain his calm this time. You were getting on his nerves bad. "Hiding secrets with someone you were intimate with for five fucking years is deceiving," you huff, gripping the bottom of your dress. "and you know that."

Before he could fight for his defense, you completely shun him. Speedily avoiding his following presence, you make it to the passenger door of the SUV before he could block in and jump inside.

However, your movements weren't fast enough as he gripped the door hard, not letting you close it. Anxiously sighing, he lowered his head to keep contact with you as you ignored his close proximity, focusing on finding a stern hold on the door so you can shut him out, again.

Leaning in closer, he shakes his head. "We need to talk about t-"

"You didn't want to talk about it last time because you it was your own business remember," you intervened as he closed his eyes in exasperation. "What did you say again? 'This isn't about you. Stay out of it.' I'm out now so you can go."

"I was angry and ups-"

"Andrew!" you call out, causing Pedro to stop talking and confusingly gaze you. "Can you please help? I really want to leave."

Pedro let out a loud scoff, returning his past hurt look as you simply waited for your friend to rescue you. Within seconds, Andrew came by your side and sent Pedro a look of sorrow, not really sure how to make him feel better by his wanted removal.

He didn't need to do much as Pedro backed away himself, shaking his head and sent you one last glance of betrayal. "I'm fucking done," he declared, walking backwards and you prayed your sudden feeling of panic wasn't on full display.

"I'm not going to waste my time anymore when its no use." With that, he made his way back to the building, muttering a swift "have a great life" before aggressively pulling the door open and disappearing inside.

Ignoring the presence of people around, you stared at the windshield in front of you as Andrew stayed by your car door, not wanting to close it just yet.

You didn't want to admit it, but you felt your chest tighten as you began to feel uneasy. Was this it? Did you finally get what you wanted?

Or what you thought you wanted?

Of course you wanted this, now you could move on.

You had even forgotten about Florence and Shailene until the sounds of the back door opening flooded through your ears as they hopped in and made a seat for themselves.

As an intense wave of guilt took over, you immediately turned your back to face them for your explanation until Florence waved her hands to make you stop. "You don't need to explain anything right now, all I want is for you to relax."

Sighing, you slowly nod and turn back towards the front to see Andrew give you a small, condoling smile before gently closing your door, trying not to smash your feet or dress in the process.

Awkwardly gazing to the driver who was cautiously scanning over you making sure you weren't going to puke or breakdown, you send him a sad grin. "I'm sorry...for causing a scene."

He chuckles, shaking his head as you felt your cheeks burn from how embarrassed you were. You must've looked so childish fighting with a grown man over your secret relationship. "Don't worry, as long as I get a big tip you can do whatever you want."

Frowning at his response, your eyes widen as he laughs louder, his body shaking from how funny he thought this miserable situation was. "I'm only joking, I would never let a woman tip after dealing with an unfaithful ex."

Sitting up straighter, you send him a surprised look. "So you think he was cheating, too? Right? I'm not cr-"

"Okay! Let's not continue this conversation anymore," Shailene cuts you off and nods to the driver. "Please drive us to her house."

Your driver sends you a promising wink before starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot to hit the busy streets of the city. You wish you could remember the rest of the car ride, but sleep took over after the car passed the third traffic light.

But as you finally got to forget about the recent incident, little did you know it would haunt you the moment you woke up.

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quimichi · 6 months

Note

calling Fontaine girls your girls ~~~~ (I like this symbol)

"=⌕ CALLING THE FONTAINE GIRLS YOUR GOOD GIRL /

Fontaine girls x Creator!Reader

Furina - I will not only judge travelers from abroad... but even the gods of other lands.

Furina looks up at you in surprise, but she complies with a nod. She folds her legs and sits in your lap, her expression completely innocent as she waits to see what her grace commands her to do. "What a good girl you are~" you say while playing with her hair. Furinas face flushes pink at your praise, and she shifts uncomfortably in your lap; this is much more intimate than she's used to with you. It only lasts for a moment, though, as she quickly regains her composure as she reminds herself of her place in your court.

She smiles up at you, and for a brief moment, a genuine, bright smile spreads across her face; something more suited to a happy child than a Archon. "You sure like being my good girl, hm Furina?" A slight tease in your tone, but it's still layered with genuine curiosity. Furina nods again, a slight blush still spreading across her cheeks.

Her voice is soft, even as he struggles to maintain her composure. "Of course, my grace." She tilts her head up to look at you, those ocean eyes of hers studying you curiously.

*Am I doing a good job, my grace? Am I still your good girl? Is my work pleasing for you?*

You lean forward, your soft lips touching her ear, it's sending enjoyable shivers down her spine as you say "I love you" Furina leans a bit into your touch, her expression softening as she closes her eyes and let's out a whine.

Your gentle caress stirs something deep within her, a sense of warmth that has been vacant for a long time before you spoke those words. Her body shivers at the feel of your breath, and she leans back against you; her face, for the first time, is completely untroubled.

Her voice is still soft, but it holds a sense of quiet certainty now.

"I love you too, my Paradies."

Lynette - Staying silent is beneficial for maintaining focus and gathering intelligence

Lynette can't help her knees to quiver and her ears to tingle. She meets your gaze once more, and the heat of your love burns her cheeks; they redden like the setting sun. What is happening, this is new...what is this

She does as you say, her movements quick but careful. She climbs onto your lap and faces you. Her eyes can't look ag you, staring at the ground— and she feels a sense of tranquility wash over her; as if your presence alone makes her feel like he belongs right in your presence. "You're my good girl, hm? My good girl only..." At your praise, Lynette looks up at you and smiles softly. You're praise is one of the only few things she wants and craves.

"Yes, Your Grace." The words slip from her mouth like sweet syrup. She leans in and nuzzles her head into your neck; but then, when she realizes her action, she freezes— but doesn't pull away. Once again, she doesn't knows what is happening.

Lynettes lips press to your neck, and she kisses you lightly— once, twice, and then again. She can't seem to pull herself away, and her nose nuzzles into your skin, purring. Her movements are soft and light, like a cat's whiskers.

When she finally does pull away, her breath is ragged. Her pupils are wide with awe and admiration, and her face is flushed. She stares up at you, her eyes pleading.

Seems like you got your own personal 'cat' now.

Charlotte

Her heart leaps— did you command her to sit in your lap? What a blessing!

Immediately, she sits on your lap, her legs curled and body pressed against yours. She is so focused on your body that she forgets how cold the throne really is, and how uncomfortable its sharp points are. She doesn't care. Now, she is closer to you.

"What do you wish of me, Your Grace?" she asks softly. "Tell me, are you my good girl?" Her voice trembles as she answers, this clearly took her by surprise. "I am, yes, I am your good girl..."

She is only yours, she wants to add, but to shy to do so. No one else's. Only you are her God, hers, her everything. Only you.

"I am yours." although she is embarrassed, she trys to cover it by as much seriousness in her eyes as she could. After all, what does this magician keep saying? Seeing is believing. "Good" oh she better be your only good girl, and you better be her only 'owner'

Charlotte's breath comes in slow, labored gasps. She is still on your lap, legs curled in front of her, her body pressed against yours. She is utterly and wholly focused on you. Your attention is as vital to her as the air she breathes. Your will is her will. But face you? While sitting in your much comfortable lap? This might be to much now...

She is your good girl. She wants to do nothing but to please you.

Navia

Navia shifts in her seat, as if she were trying to conceal an emotion of some kind— perhaps a wave of nostalgia, or regret? Either way, she remains composed and loyal as she awaits your next instruction. "Your Grace needs me, yes?" she says, her tone formal and respectful.

Navia nods and does as she's told, sliding up to your lap and sitting down neatly. Her expression remains solemn and serene, but the slightest hint of a smile appears upon her face.

"Yes, your Grace," she says with reverence. "I am at your service." "What a good girl you are, listening so well to me.." Navia is positively gleeful by this point, and she smiles widely, her cheeks reddening just a little. Being called a 'good girl' somehow feels like the greatest honor to her. If she could, she would hug you and never let go, but that would be wrong of her.

"Yes, your Grace," Navia says softly, trying to remain composed. "I am so happy to be your good girl..."

Clorinde

The command sends a chill down Clorindes spine. She is trembling at being this close to you; that you desire her to be this close, to be so utterly at your whim. She cannot say no.

And so she does as she was told, straddling your thighs. Her eyes lock on yours without faltering. Her face is inches from yours, close enough to touch. The pulse on her neck thrums, loud in the air as her breath catches in her throat. "My good girl, isn't that right?" you coo at her, getting even closer. "Yes, master," she whispers. She meets your gaze. Hee irises are a deep color of purple. The color of mystery. The color of her powers.

She licks her lips. Her mouth is dry. She is waiting for your touch. Waiting for your command. She craves you. She needs you. She loves you. Her whole body is at your command. "My only good girl"

The words leave Clorinde speechless. She feels lightheaded, overwhelmed by the fact that she is yours, and you are her. She is nothing without you. She is your own. In your presence, she is a completely different person. Her heart is racing as she whispers again,

"Yes, master."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau genshin #sagau #furina x reader #Charlotte x reader #genshin charlotte #lynette x reader #navia x reader #clorinde x reader

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seravphs · 1 year

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo's a brat.

wc — 1k

tags — been reading a lot of shoujo manga lately which is its own warning, jealous Gojo spoiling reader

Snap.

You hiss between your teeth, annoyed and barely restraining yourself from murder. The sting of the elastic jolts you out of your studies, but after a quick break to glare at the headache sitting next to you, you dive right back into your work. Patience is one of your strong suits. It’s why Yaga worked so hard to steal - in his words, ‘recruit’ - you from the Kyoto campus. Someone has to set a good example for the kids. He knows it’s not going to be Gojo.

Speaking of-

Snap.

This time, you feel the brush of his cold fingers against your skin as well. You yelp in shock, both at the sudden change in temperature and at the way your skin smarts. Gojo takes a break from his triple sized blue raspberry slushee to laugh at you hysterically, clutching his sides. It’s not even that funny. You wish all kinds of illnesses on him with fervor.

One more time. Just one more time, you promise yourself, and you’ll-

Snap goes the hair tie on your wrist against your skin.

You don’t even let him withdraw his fingers before you leap over the chair to punish him.

“You little punk,” you snarl, catching his collar in your hand and throttling him with it. It’s a rare day where he’s wearing business casual, which he doesn’t even do for meetings with the elders.

“I’m older than you,” he says. “Gotta respect your elders.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you respect!”

You’re already reaching out to pinch his cheek, only to come into contact with infinity. This comes with the realization that he must have had it turned off earlier, if you could have choked him. Why does the thought make you happy?

“Men don’t like women who are so high strung,” he teases.

“Tell that to my roster of Hinge dates,” you snort (lying through your teeth). You’re admittedly popular, but you’ve stopped seeing anyone in recent months for a reason you don’t want to explore further. That’s a stone you’re willing to leave unturned.

“Oh, yeah?” You can only tell his voice is just slightly huskier because you spend so much time with him these days that you can catch the slight changes in his mood. It’s for lesson plans, of course.

That doesn’t stop you from swallowing hard. Jealousy looks good on him. He had the kind of looks that could drive women crazy, but combined with his unfiltered attention on you? It was a difficult to fight the urge to provoke him further.

“Yeah. As for me, I don’t like men who are a pain in the ass,” you smooth down his collar once you realize you’ve still been holding it.

The tension breaks. Gojo never stays serious for long. You’ve only caught fleeting glimpses of the god that lurks within his skin, trapped and turbulent.

“Aw, come on. I’m not so bad, am I? Can I make it up to you?”

“Depends,” you sniff, highlighting a important sentence in your textbook. You’ll have to remember that for class later. Nobara had asked about it. You should really tell him to go away, he’s distracting you so much, but you rarely do tell him off no matter what he does.

“I happen to have a reservation-“

So that explains why he’s dressed so nicely, though you wouldn’t put it past him to show up to Michelin star restaurants in sweatpants and get his way. You have to remind yourself not to get excited that he’s doing this for you. If you do, you lose.

“Happen to, is it? What if I don’t want your leftovers?”

“Don’t be that way,” he wheedles. “I’ll pay for everything.”

“As if I was going to.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“You can do better than that,” you retort. This is almost fun, like negotiating with Yaga to raise your salary. Utahime thinks there’s something wrong with you for enjoying workplace politics so much, but maybe that’s why you can tolerate Gojo’s company so well when no one else can. You have to be a little crazy to put up with him.

“Hmm,” he says. You see right through him. He’s only pretending to think. In fact, every second of this conversation was predetermined. It’s all part of a bit you’ve done before. “Last offer, then. You can max out my card getting ready.”

And your answer, therefore, is also already prepared. You don’t even deign to give him one, simply holding out your hand.

“Who says I’m giving it to you?” Gojo’s eyes sparkle. He’s being particularly difficult today, so much so you’re tempted to just slap him across his pretty face so you can kiss the hurt away afterwards. He’d like that, though. “Don’t you need someone to carry your bags?”

This is the game he likes to play, messing with you so he can apologize with extravagant gifts. Just once, you wish he could be straightforward about it. You’re not bragging, but everyone knows he likes you. It would make everyone’s life easier if he could just be mature about it, but instead, Gojo insists on acting like a teenager with a crush.

Whatever. You can put up with it for a while longer. You’re not particularly opposed to this situation. He spoils you with attention and lavish gifts; you spoil him by being the only one who can tolerate him.

Besides, you’re keeping secrets too, a big one that Utahime had whispered to you the other day over lunch. She had been so excited to have something to hold over Gojo that she hadn’t even registered the look on your face when she told you.

The other reason Yaga tried so hard to steal you from Kyoto?

Gojo asked him for a favor.

#sera writes #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff

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vaguely-concerned · 1 month

Text

Ever since watching The Wire for the first time, my brain has doggedly kept working away at the Especially the lies of it all, and specifically at how much the structure beneath the different stories Garak tells contributes to the overall meaning of what he’s trying to say. While the contradicting narratives of course expertly obscure the factual circumstances of his getting exiled, using them also allows him to tell aspects and facets of the emotional truth I don’t think he ever could have, if he’d simply told the actual story of what happened. (It’s very Varric-core of him honestly.)

The first story — the ‘oh, you think you know me?’ story — says I have done things that would sicken you if you knew any detail of it. It’s clearly meant to scare Bashir away so he’ll leave him to die shamefully in peace already lol. But it’s also one of his (probably much-needed lbr) little lessons to Julian that are so frequent in the beginning, given while Garak still has some hold on himself — “Don’t be so quick to forgive me if you don’t even know what I’ve done; what would you do if this really were the sum total of what I am?” (And Julian seems to surprise him by going ‘Well, exactly the same thing, because no matter who you are I am a doctor. But I sort of take your point.’)

The second story — the letting the orphans go story — says I have failed to smother my soul in its cradle when it was required of me, and I regret that more than anything I’ve done. To my ears this is the one most shot through with active self-loathing too, which is interesting. He’s officially lost the control he’s been clinging to and it’s about to get ugly. His TL;DR is ‘Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’, even all the way back here. (Which is the one lesson Julian steadfastly refuses to learn, which I think in turn does some serious rearrangement of Garak’s soul over the course of the show haha. Get uno reversed into the process of loving and being loved without shame asshole.) This is also where he builds up to admitting to having any sort of need for companionship or closeness at all and — so much worse — that Julian’s role in his life actually has fulfilled some of that need, and he’s DRIPPING with defensive venom over it b/c well I get it Garak vulnerability is scary it can take a person like that.

(I also feel there’s something honest and forbidden in ‘Suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless’. I suspect ‘actually… why the fuck are we even doing this???’ is not a welcome sentiment in an Obsidian Order water cooler environment, no matter what you’re saying it about lmao. The very first seeds of him deconstructing the things he’s been taught about Cardassia and his work might be hinted at here, though they of course take a looong time to come to any real fruition.)

The third story — the ‘Elim was my best friend’ story — says hey, remember that thing you said once, about how sometimes, you have to be loyal to yourself before you can be loyal to anything else? Well. guess what. I couldn’t even be that lmao. It also furthers that thread of being divided from yourself, split, that having ‘Elim’ as a separate person around in all versions of the story brings in. He’s in control of himself again, but he essentially hands his life and soul over to Julian to decide what should be done with them.

I’ve done horrible things and it finally caught up with me, I’m getting what I deserve → I let sentiment master me and the fact that I’m too weak to do what’s needed of me shames me more than the evil I’ve done → I fucked up. I betrayed myself and everything I held to, all for nothing, and I have no one to blame for it but myself. But it’s very nice that you’re here anyway, Doctor. (Wow. I didn’t realize quite how isolated and lonely that last one was before right now. The way Tain has shaped him really has just… locked him completely into himself, huh.) We can also see a movement through from a completely professional context in the first story, to an intensely interpersonal and internal context in the last one — even his fake stories spiral in towards intimacy, which I think is what he longs for here even if he can’t quite like. Touch that without the stories as a buffer yet, it’s clearly like touching a hot stove for him to interact with it too directly.

And you know what I find incredibly interesting the whole way through? Even on his deathbed, where he’s dying from the thing Tain had put in his head, he’s protecting Tain. He puts all the blame for where he is on himself (‘My future was limitless, until I threw it away’), even if he has to employ a strange twisty logic where he’s split himself into two to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Garak has done horrific things all on his own haha, but it’s notable that he almost isolates Tain from that. ‘Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand.’ Tain in Garak’s stories is this infallible implacable weirdly distant figure, even now. Indeed, as will make a lot of sense with the revelations further down the line, more than anything it seems the gaze of an abused child desperate for recognition looking up at an idealized (if not in any way nurturing) parent.‘He was retired at that point; he couldn't protect me’, Garak says, as if what he’d need protection from in the first place isn’t Tain himself lmao, as if Tain had no active part in any of this. He never lets blame touch Tain at all. At this stage he would rather consider himself a broken flawed tool than accept that the hands that have wrought and wielded him have ever had any fault in them. AND in the middle of it all, with plausible deniability, on death’s door and knocking meekly to be let in before he must finish the mortifying ordeal of being known and test the even more daunting possibility of being loved, Garak at the same time manages to drop the breadcrumb trail of clues to make it possible for Julian to find Tain if he so chooses and gets in the ‘sons of Tain’ thing too for future dramatic irony purposes. Truly he is the Michelangelo of lying. Every falsehood a multifaceted masterpiece. Elim ‘achieving a state of intertextuality in real life is possible if you work hard and believe in yourself’ Garak. I love him so much.

I think all of this is why “I forgive you. For whatever it is you did,” works so well, because it too works on a structural level. It’s such a deceptively multilayered response — it has the syntax of a joke, in a way, and it is kind of funny even under the circumstances, but delivered with such earnest warmth and fondness. It’s both recognition and acceptance (forgiveness!). It’s saying ‘I finally understand enough of what you’re trying to tell me beneath and through all that, in whatever way you’re capable of, I see you’ and ‘my answer hasn’t changed (bitch)’. The forgiveness Julian offers here is complete — on principle, and out of personal feeling and empathy (only one of which Garak deigns to respond to during the second story, where he calls it ‘smug Federation sympathy’, placing it more completely on the principle side than it probably is. ‘Dude you’re my friend please don’t just lie down and die in a completely avoidable way on me, who else is going to not only tolerate but actually gleefully enjoy me being annoying as fuck over lunch’ seems to be the subtext that’s a lot harder to acknowledge and invite in for both of them. And yet Tain seems perfectly clear on the fact that Julian is Garak’s friend, which, y’know. Must be fun living with the knowledge that Tain has eyes everywhere looming over you every day haha guess you’d just have to tune that out.)

Most of all — ’Don’t give up on me now, Doctor’... and he didn’t! He didn’t. Augh. Ow.

#garashir #elim garak #julian bashir #star trek ds9 #ds9 #star trek #ds9 meta #S2EP22 The Wire #alternate title: baby's first brush with unconditional love through unreliable narration lol #I'm not sure I got to say everything I want to in this/found the exact right words in places or hit all the nuances #but god help me I so desperately need this out of my brain to free up some disc space so go forth little meta haha be free #I'm sure I'll come back to you in time #meta #enabran tain #(derogatory)

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Text

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 2

This was a collaboration with my dearest @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: After you and Eddie have given into your feelings for one another, complications arise that were never part of your fantasies.

Note from Red: The love I received for part one of this story blew me away. I absolutely could not believe it. It was a labor of love and the fact that so many of you wanted more just made it even better. Thank you all for your love and kind messages. Feel free to keep requesting stories from this universe 💕

Note from Bug: I’m so grateful that Red allowed me to collaborate with her on this amazing series. I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), infidelity, age gap (reader is 20, Eddie is 32)

Words: 7k

Part One | All stories in this verse

“Fuck, Eddie!”

You’re in the back of his car—correction, Brittany’s car, since she’d told him to bring it to the shop and fix a busted taillight. If it was anyone else, you would’ve assumed she’d asked him, but with Brittany, you knew it was a demand. You straddle Eddie’s waist, his grease-smudged coveralls and plaid boxers shucked down to his ankles; your skirt is pushed up to your hips, panties somewhere on the floor. Eddie had practically ripped them off once you two were alone.

Eddie’s lunch break happened to coincide with the end of your classes for the day, so you’d happily gone to visit him at work. When his eyes first landed on you and dipped down to your skirt, you knew what you were going to spend the hour doing.

It had been two weeks since the night you first slept together, and it was the happiest two weeks you could ever remember having. Of course, the kids didn’t know what was going on, so it was important to both of you to keep up the façade of your usual relationship in front of the boys. Since Brittany came home from work shortly after Eddie, that didn’t give the two of you any time alone without the boys around. That meant there were stolen kisses, longing looks, or lingering touches when the boys weren’t paying attention. Brittany knew, obviously. She knew from that first night when she’d come out of the master bedroom and practically threw your jeans in your face and all you did was wink at her. What could she say, though? Nothing that wouldn’t make her a hypocrite along with an adulteress and pathological liar.

Eddie’s thrusting up into you now, pinning your hips down so he can get impossibly deep inside you. “Holy shit, sweetheart,” he pants, sucking a harsh bruise into your chest. “Keep sayin’ my name like that and you’ll make me blow my load.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you moan; half teasing him and half because he just feels so damn good. You bounce on his cock, matching his rhythm. He’s already given you two orgasms, and you’re approaching your third. His thick finger makes its way to your clit, rubbing quick circles over it, and you cry out at the overstimulation. “P-Please, Eddie; can’t take much more.”

“You’ll—fuck—take whatever I give you,” he orders through gritted teeth, but his eyes tell you that he doesn’t want to hurt you. You dig your nails into his shoulders, bracing yourself for him to quicken his pace so he can finish.

“Eddie,” you moan out again—and he wasn’t lying before. The sound of you saying his name again has his hips snapping up against yours, and the feeling of his cock twitching against your walls lets you know he’s about to come. His finger keeping a strong pressure on your clit, you bury your face in his neck as you feel your orgasm start to wash over you. “Fuck, I’m coming.”

It’s all Eddie needs to hear before he’s spilling inside of you, hips stuttering against your own as he works you both through the pleasure. You press kisses against the side of Eddie’s neck as you start to come down from your high, smiling against his sweaty skin. His hands loosen their grip on your hips, and instead of the bruising pressure he now rubs his fingers up your sides.

“Y’with me, baby?” He smiles, kissing you again. This time, his touch is tender and loving, a stark contrast to his animalistic hunger just moments earlier. “God, you’re so beautiful when you come for me. You’re always beautiful, but, I mean, damn.” He licks his lips, making you giggle. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world to be with you, I swear.”

“Funny,” you say, resting your head against his shoulder. “I lay in bed at night thinking about how I’m the luckiest girl in the world. After I make myself come while thinking of you, that is.”

“Of course,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “Not gonna need to do that tonight, huh? Did I wear you out, pretty girl?” His calloused hands against your soft skin have goosebumps breaking out along your flesh.

“Yes,” you say, body still thrumming from the three orgasms. Picking your head up from his shoulder, you give him a sly smile. “Not bad for an old man.”

“Old man?!” he sputters, faking offense. “Baby doll, I’m 32 years young.” You stick your tongue out at him, reveling in the giddiness that being with him brings, and he leans over and licks your nose.

“Ew!” You can’t stop laughing, making it nearly impossible to kiss him like you want. “You boys never grow up, huh?”

Eddie flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Nope!” He smacks your ass and helps you readjust your skirt. “C’mon, we can split a sandwich for lunch. Bet my girl worked up an appetite.” He winks at you, and your stomach flutters at the words my girl. There’s a pang of disappointment with it, too, because you’re not really his girl. If you were, you wouldn’t be relegated to fucking in secrecy.

“Um, Eddie?” you murmur as he starts to open the door. “I’m, um, missing something.” When he looks at you with a puzzled expression, you whisper, “have you seen my panties?”

“Oh, shit,” he says, hand abandoning the door handle. He helps you look around the floor of the car, barking out a laugh when neither of you finds them. “What the hell?”

“How did they just disappear?” you ask, brow pinched in concern. Standing up as much as you can in the cramped space, you lean into the front seat to look. Eddie glances up and abandons the search when he gets a look at your pussy, his cum still leaking out.

“Fuck, what a view,” he muses. Looking over your shoulder at him, you roll your eyes and plop back down in the seat next to him. You swat him on the chest, and he catches your wrist, leaning in to press kisses to the side of your face as he laughs. “Think you’re gonna have to go home and get a new pair before you pick the boys up from school. And maybe some pants instead of that skirt, too. Unless you want me pulling you into my room and telling the boys I have to have a nice, long talk with you.”

“Hmm,” you grin, biting your lower lip. “It would be nice to have sex in a bed instead of the backseat of a car.” Of her car, nonetheless.

Eddie laces his fingers through yours and pulls you towards his chest. “How about,” he starts, leaning his head on the headrest, “I get us a hotel room one of these days. We stay up all night, sleep in real late, and then order room service for breakfast in bed.”

“That sounds incredible,” you agree, bringing your lips to the back of his hand. “When can this little vacation happen?”

“This weekend?” he suggests, but the light in his eyes dims as quickly as it appears. “Shit, wait. I told Brittany I’d wait at home for the plumber while she…does whatever the fuck, with whoever the fuck.”

Brittany. Brittany Brittany Brittany. You want to feel sympathy for him, but you just can’t. A scream lingers in your throat, but you swallow it down. “No, I get it.” But you don’t. You don’t understand how he can have someone who cares about him, who loves him, right in front of him, and continue to stay with the woman who breaks his heart time and time again.

“Rain check, baby? I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He gives you those puppy dog eyes that you’re pretty sure could have him getting away with murder. You hate that it works on you so well, but it does.

“Guess since you just gave me three orgasms, I’ll say okay.” Even if you don’t want to. But for now, you’ll let it go. “Now, where’s that sandwich?”

The rain outside provides a calming sound as you’re curled up on the Munson couch, Ryan tucked into your side as he reads to you from his favorite book. He’s so proud that he got an A on his spelling test today and his excitement is contagious. So, when he asked if you wanted to know what his favorite book was about, of course you’d said yes. Or rather, his favorite book this week.

“When the puppy ran down the street, the little boy chased him,” Ryan reads to you. Luke is sitting on the carpet near your feet, tongue poked out in concentration as he fashions his Legos together to make, what you assume, is supposed to be a fire truck.

The doorknob rattles and your stomach jumps for joy as Eddie makes his way inside. He shakes his hair out like a dog coming out of the bath, and it makes both the boys giggle. You just watch him adoringly and he shoots a wink your way when he notices.

“My boys!” He holds his arms out wide, and Luke and Ryan bolt over and give him a giant hug. “How were our little rascals tonight, baby—uh, babysitter?” His cheeks flush red as he realizes his slip-up; luckily, the boys don’t seem to notice.

You clear your throat. “Just the absolute worst,” you joke, watching their little jaws drop at your response. “Destroyed the house, yelled and screamed the whole time, and refused to do any of their homework.” You hold out your hand, keeping a straight face. “Just pay me and consider this my resignation.”

“My angels would never!” Eddie gasps, flinging his arms around your torso and pulling your back to his chest. “Boys, don’t let her leave!” Ryan and Luke cackle with laughter, each grabbing one of your legs and clinging on for dear life.

“I’m under attack!” You unsuccessfully try to shake the kids off, inadvertently pressing your ass to Eddie’s groin. You’d put on a new pair of panties after your lunchtime tryst, but you kept the same skirt.

Luke grips tighter, his hands now on your thigh. “Hey, Gollum,” Eddie says to him, breaking character for a second, “watch where you’re putting your grubby paws.” Luke nods and brings his hands back towards your knee.

“Thanks,” you whisper to Eddie, your voice barely audible.

“Gotta look out for my girl,” he murmurs in your ear, and you freeze at the pet name. The words sound so lovely coming out of his mouth, directed towards you. But there’s still this little voice in the back of your head telling you that it’s not true. And for once, that voice is right.

“Okay, okay,” you say, looking down at the boys. “You got me! I’ll stay!” Ryan and Luke release you, cheers of their victory being shouted as they dance around you. Eddie’s grip loosens on you, and you step out of his arms, crouching down to be at the same level as the boys. “Homework done?” You look at them and they both nod their heads. “Baths?” They both give you sheepish looks and you’ve gotten your answer. “Why don’t you go take your baths now? That way after dinner you can play a game with daddy?” The boys both give their dad excited looks before they slip down the hall and towards the bathroom.

“Volunteering me to play games, huh?” Eddie asks, snaking his arms around your hips once the bathroom door can be heard closing. He pulls his body against yours and your nose wrinkles up when you see all the dirt and oil on his blue coveralls.

“You need to take that thing off,” you say. Immediately, there’s a spark in Eddie’s eyes and a smile’s already on your face before he’s done anything. But you know the crazy tactics his mind comes up with, so you’re curious.

“Take it off, huh?” Eddie says, taking a few steps back from you. His hand goes to his zipper, and he starts to pull it down at a glacial pace. “This would be better if I had some music.”

“Should I put on Madonna? Or maybe Billy Joel?” you tease. His eyes narrow at you as he gets the coveralls down his shoulders. Once his arms slip out, you have to admit that this pseudo-striptease is working for you. Eddie recognizes he’s got you now, and he starts to swing his hips back and forth, which just makes you burst out into giggles.

“What?” he asks, body never pausing in its movements.

“Babe, you know I adore you. You’re handsome, you’re kind, you’re hilarious, a great dad. But you can’t dance.” The laughter spilling out of you has Eddie joining in as well. “It was hot until then.”

“Fine,” he says as he stills his hips. “I’ll just take my clothes off for you then.” You raise your eyebrows and cross your arms over your chest, ready to watch the show unfold in front of you. It’s hard for him to find a sexy way to step out of the coveralls, so he just kicks them off and to the side. When he takes his t-shirt off, he steps forward towards you, rolling the shirt until it looks like a long piece of rope. He brings it to the small of your back and uses it to pull your body up against his.

He smirks down at you and you’re just about to lean in for a kiss when the front door opens. Both you and Eddie turn to look and see Brittany coming in. She slips a raincoat off and hangs it on a peg near the door. When she turns, she freezes as she eyes the two of you. Eddie shirtless, you pressed flush up against him.

“Please tell me the boys aren’t seeing this bullshit?” she asks, as if she suddenly has an interest in the well-being of her children.

“No,” Eddie huffs at her. “They’re taking a bath.”

Her cold eyes scan you up and down before she scoffs and makes her way back towards the master bedroom.

“So, uh,” you back away, letting your gaze drop to the ground, “mood officially ruined.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, running a hand through his curls. “I’m sorry; you should get going.” He picks up the discarded coveralls and digs into his pocket for his wallet, handing you a twenty.

You nod and accept the money, cheeks burning with embarrassment. What, were you expecting an invitation to dinner after his wife just caught you about to suck face? “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he affirms. His expression seems lost, though you can’t quite pinpoint it exactly. You wonder if he feels the same heartbreak as you.

Eddie walks you to the door, giving you one last kiss before you go. It’s soft and sweet, but there’s something tainting it. After Eddie closes the door behind you and locks it for the night, he starts on dinner. The meal goes surprisingly well for an evening in the Munson household. There’s no shouting, no arguing, and Brittany even asked Luke about school. The little boy was clearly shocked but proceeded to tell her about the hamster someone brought for show and tell today. Tucking the boys into bed was suddenly a team effort, more than Brittany’s usual quick kiss on the cheek before practically shoving them into their rooms.

Once they’re both in bed, Eddie grabs a towel and heads into the bathroom for a shower. He closes the door and turns the water almost as hot as it can go. He steps in and does his usual routine. Quick rinse of the body, grab the soap and suds up, then grabs his dick in his hand and starts to think about you.

The way you showed up at the shop in that little skirt, begging to be touched. The way your tight pussy clenched around his cock as you rode him. The way you said his name over and over like a prayer—dammit, Madonna was right. He lets out a terse laugh, making a mental note to tell you tomorrow.

“Y’like that, baby?” Eddie groans softly, tugging on his hardening length. “Like the way I fill up all your holes, hm? Gonna take it all for me, my good girl?” He imagines you on your knees in front of him, obediently swirling your perfect tongue around his sensitive head as he fucks your face. “What’s that, sweetheart? You want it in your mouth? God, you’re so fuckin’ good to me.”

He stops for a second, practically edging himself, before running his slick palm over his shaft again. “But I really need your pussy tonight, baby. Need that tight, wet, perfect pussy. Jus’ like that, fuck.” He’s got a mental image of you bent over, leaning on the hood of a cherry red convertible, that damned skirt pushed up as he pistons into you from behind. “Yes, yes, oh, fuck YES!” Thick, hot ropes of cum spill into his hand and onto the shower tile as Eddie moans your name out louder than he intended. He freezes as the bathroom door swings open. There’s a pause, then a few footsteps closer to the shower, then the door closes.

“If you’re gonna fantasize about the kids’ babysitter, at least don’t let them hear. Can’t have them growing up and acting like you.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches and he lets his softening cock fall from his hand. He tries so hard to let the things she says roll off his back, but sometimes he just can’t help it. “Acting like me, huh?” He rinses his hand off and wipes his cum from the shower wall. “You mean, working hard trying to support my family?” He snatches his shampoo bottle up and squeezes some into his palm. “Wanting to spend every free second with my kids? Yeah, what a shame that would be.” Eddie scrubs the shampoo into his hair, fingers massaging his scalp as he works the citrus scented foam through his locks.

“No, I mean the part where you seem to think you’re in some porno film, fulfilling some sick fantasy. You realize she’s a kid, right?”

“She’s not a fucking kid,” Eddie snaps, pulling the shower curtain back just enough to glare at Brittany. “Can I finish my shower in peace, please?”

Brittany shrugs, holding her hands up in front of her. “You’re the one who sounded like you wanted some company in here.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he mutters under his breath, staying quiet for the boys’ sake, not hers.

Coming home from work has always been Eddie’s favorite part of the day. How could it not be when he knows he gets to see you and his kids when he gets there? But ever since you and Eddie got together—if you could even call it that—he loved coming home even more. He couldn’t tell you the last time he came home from work to be greeted by Brittany, happy to see him. It’s been at least two years.

But that’s exactly what happens when Eddie gets home today. His heart plummets when instead of your gold car in the driveway Eddie sees the red one that he just fucked you in the other day. Begrudgingly, he steps inside the house, ready to focus on his boys and only his boys. Eddie is in for the shock of his life though, when Brittany flounces up to him and presses a kiss to his lips. When was the last time that happened?

“Hi, honey,” Brittany says in a sickeningly sweet voice. The smile on her face is a mask, Eddie knows. She’s been lying to him for long enough that he’s able to tell.

“Um, hi,” Eddie says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What are you doing home so early?”

“Thought I’d start the weekend a little early with my boys.” She takes the keys from Eddie’s hand and puts them on the table in the hall next to hers before slipping her hand into his. Eddie’s becoming more and more confused by the second. “Why don’t you get washed up and we all go out for dinner?”

“Uh, I’m kind of tired,” Eddie says, which isn’t a lie. But mostly he just doesn’t want to go out with her. “Do you mind if we just stay in? We can order takeout?”

“Whatever my husband wants,” Brittany says, a fake smile plastered on her face as she tugs Eddie along behind her. “Now, you go get cleaned up and I’ll finish up helping the boys with their homework.” Indeed, as Eddie walks past the kitchen to get to his bedroom, the boys are both at the table, pencils scratching away on paper.

Luke and Ryan tell their parents about their days while the family sits around the table, devouring Chinese food. It’s what Eddie’s always wanted–family dinners, sharing stories–except something still doesn’t feel right.

“And then Tyler kicked the ball, and it hit Jimmy right in the stomach!” Ryan exclaims, eyes wide as he relays the events of recess. “Jimmy almost threw up his lunch, and we had macaroni and cheese today, so that would’ve been nasty.”

“Super nasty,” Luke echoes, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“That’s nice, honey,” Brittany responds absently, spearing a piece of sesame chicken with a plastic fork. “Glad you had fun at school.”

Eddie catches the confused look on his eldest son’s face. “I think Mommy means that the whole thing sounded exciting.” He’s not entirely sure why he’s trying to cover for his wife, but it seems to placate the situation for now.

After everyone is full, Brittany cleans up while Eddie gets the boys ready for bed. After their usual routine, including an extra two bedtime stories, they finally fall asleep. Eddie kisses each of their foreheads, silent apologies for their mother’s behavior at dinner.

All he wants to do is go to bed, get a good night’s sleep–maybe dream about you–but Brittany’s waiting in their room in a black lace teddy. It’s been a long time since they’ve had sex, so he’s understandably caught off-guard.

“Hi, baby,” she coos, dragging a painted fingernail down his chest. “Wanna have a little fun tonight?” She presses her body against him, and Eddie could kick himself for involuntarily starting to get hard. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She brings her lips to his neck, smearing her lipstick on his collarbones.

“N-Not now,” Eddie stammers out, frozen in place.

“C’mon,” she protests, grabbing his erection and making him hiss at the sensation. “I know you want another baby. Why don’t we get started tonight?” She nibbles at his earlobe, whispering, “want you to get me pregnant, Eddie.”

Eddie pulls back before she can fully draw him in. She’s so familiar; it would be too easy to fall into bed with her and pretend like nothing’s wrong. Just the average married couple making love on a Friday night. But he can’t do it anymore. “No, Britt. I…I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Brittany’s sensual expression quickly turns to anger. “Seriously?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You’ll fuck the babysitter, but not your wife?”

“Can you stop calling her the babysitter?” Eddie retorts. “She has a name.”

“Yeah, I know; I heard you moaning it in the shower last night,” Brittany scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you. You’re willing to throw away the life we’ve built together, forcing your kids to have a broken home, all so you can live out some twisted fantasy with a girl who’ll dump you once she finds a younger model?”

He’s stunned into silence. He knows all too well what a broken home looks like; he remembers the utter chaos of his parents’ rage before he went to live with Wayne. The nights where his mom would scream at his dad until her voice was hoarse and scratchy or until he drove off to God-knows-where. He’d never wanted that for his own children.

“You know what?” Brittany’s shrill voice punctures his rambling thoughts. “Fuck whoever you want. I don’t care anymore.” She stomps towards the bathroom and slams the door shut behind her, making Eddie grimace. He waits for one of the kids to wake up from all the clamor, but no one comes in the room.

It’s not until after he’s gone to bed that his worst nightmare occurs to him: they’re already used to it.

You’ve barely slept since Brittany caught you and Eddie about to kiss; your brain is overwhelmed with anxiety. You feel like some kind of slut, messing around with a married man, regardless of how awful his wife is. And it’s pathetic how easily you’ll do whatever he asks, desperate to keep him, when he’s never fully belonged to you in the first place.

You’re being selfish, wanting him all to yourself. He has a whole family, and you’re just a way for him to get what Brittany isn’t giving him.

You have to talk to him. You have to know where he stands. He cares about you, that much is obvious. But is it enough?

Since he told you he was going to be home on Saturday to wait for the plumber, you know this is a good time for you to go over. The kids will most likely be there, but hopefully you can somehow squeeze in some alone time to talk to Eddie. The whole ride there your stomach is in a nervous knot. This is what you wanted, your brain tells you. You wanted him to kiss you and care for you and sleep with you. But maybe it was worse to have a taste if you could never really have the whole meal.

Hand shaking as you raise your fist to knock, you try to steel yourself. It’s still Eddie you’re talking to. The same caring and loving man that you’ve been dreaming about forever.

When he answers the door, you can tell he was expecting you to be the plumber. But his face switches from polite smile to full out glee in a fraction of a second. It knocks the breath out of you because you know you’re the only one lucky enough to have that smile aimed your way.

“Hey! This is a nice surprise,” Eddie says. He grabs your hand and tugs you inside. One arm wraps around your waist while the other closes the door behind you. The kids must not be nearby because he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. “You know, you’re pretty hot for a plumber. Here to check my pipe?” The smirk on his face is so endearing and playful that you almost want to abandon the conversation you need to have with him. Deep down you know that you can’t, though.

“Mm, maybe later,” you say, resting your hands on his chest. “Where are the boys?”

“In Ryan’s room. Either they’re playing quietly, or they’ve killed each other,” he jokes, but he becomes solemn when he sees that you’re not laughing along. “I-I’m kidding; they’re both very much still alive.”

“I need to talk to you about something, Eddie.”

His mind spins all over the place in a matter of moments, trying to read on your face what could be wrong. His eyes scan up and down your body, assessing if you’re hurt anywhere. But as his eyes move back up to your face, a thought flickers to life in his mind as he gazes at your stomach. Unable to tamper down the joy that comes at the mere thought, a smile graces his lips.

“Are you..?” He trails off, eyes darting back towards your stomach.

“What?” you ask, before catching his meaning. “No! Oh no, Eddie, I’m not pregnant.” The way the smile melts off his face makes your heart lurch in your chest. He really wants to have a baby with you? He got that excited after only being “together” for two weeks?

“Oh,” he says, disappointment clear in his voice. “Well, what’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you grip his hand in yours and lead him over to the couch. His eyebrows are furrowed as he sits down next to you, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. The concern in his eyes feels the opposite of butterflies in your stomach. It feels like moths were drawn to the light only to be killed by a bug zapper. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Shit, you really should’ve figured out how you were going to start this conversation.

“I, um, I need to tell you how I’ve been feeling,” you say. “And I want to know how you’ve been feeling, too.”

“Okay,” Eddie drags out the word, a frown creasing his forehead. “Are you all right?”

You’re not sure what the honest answer to that question is. “I’m feeling guilty, Eddie. B-Because you’re still married. And I know you care about me, but you have a family here. Am I just…” you break off and take a deep breath. “Is this thing between you and me only because you want the attention and affection that you’re not getting from Brittany?”

“What?” Eddie’s baffled by the question. He shakes his head, trying to make things make sense in his mind. “You think I only want you for what my wife isn’t giving me? What, you think I just want to sleep with you?”

“That’s not exactly…” Again, you trail off, not sure what the right words are. “It’s just that you haven’t really made any steps towards leaving her. I’m not saying to pack up your stuff and leave. But…I just want to see you doing something, I guess.” You fidget with your thumbs. “I can be with you, or I can be your kids’ babysitter. But I…I can’t be both anymore.”

Eddie massages the bridge of his nose as he contemplates his options. “I want you,” he states plainly, “but it’s not that simple.” He thinks of what Brittany said last night, about breaking up his family. His boys having to split their time between Mom and Dad.

His hesitation gives you all of the answers you need. “I’m not asking you to choose,” you tell him. “I…I’m telling you that I can’t do this anymore. I’m not going to force something that isn’t meant to happen. I just have to take care of myself.”

Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes mist over. “No,” he mumbles, gnawing on his lower lip anxiously. “I want to take care of you. I want to take care of my girl.”

“Stop calling me that,” you choke out, tears burning behind your eyes. You try to blink them away before he can see.

Eddie’s thick eyebrows pinch together. “I thought you liked it,” he says. Concern is written all over his face.

“Look, I get it. You and Brittany are married, have kids together—you can’t just pick up and go.” There’s no use trying to hide your emotions, and you heave out a sob. “I was the Other Woman, and that’s just something I have to accept, I guess. But you have to stop calling me your girl. Because I’m not.” Your eyes dart to the coffee table, where a frame holds a photo of Eddie and Brittany on their wedding day. They look so in love, and it’s a punch to the gut to realize you’ll never have that with him. “She is.”

“No.” Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing. His heart breaks, knowing he’s caused you to feel this way. “No, she’s not. Not anymore. It’s you, baby. Only you.” He starts to reach out to wipe away your tears, but you jerk back.

“If we were just having fun, that’s fine. But I need to hear you say it.” You muster up all of the courage you can. “And you need to stop calling me your girl, or baby, or whatever other cute nicknames you come up with.”

Eddie lets his hands drop to his side. He stares at you forlornly. “I don’t…I can’t…”

“Me either.” You can’t meet his gaze as your trembling hand turns the doorknob. “Goodbye, Eddie.” You pull the door closed behind you, vision blurred as you hurry to your car. You leave behind a stunned Eddie Munson, stuck in place as he watches his world crumble.

“Fuck!” he yells, slamming his fist into the wall so hard that it dents. He hisses as the pain sets in.

“Dad?” A small voice calls from behind him. Eddie looks to find Ryan peering out worriedly from the kitchen. He hadn’t heard him leave his room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie tries to reassure him, but his voice catches. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, buddy; I’m okay.”

“Did she leave?” Eddie didn’t even realize that the kids knew you were here.

Eddie glances out the window to see that your car is no longer in front of the house. “Yeah,” he says sadly. “She’s gone.”

Brittany comes home after the plumber’s been gone for hours. After Eddie fed and bathed the kids, all on his own. After he tucked them in and kissed them goodnight. Eddie wonders if she was spending time with more than one of her boyfriends today. It doesn’t matter, though. It hasn’t mattered to him for months. There’s no pain whatsoever associated with being cheated on or lied to. That nerve went dead a long time ago.

The pain he feels right now doesn’t really have to do with Brittany at all. It all falls on him, in his own mind. He was the dumbass who finally had the girl he had been pining over for the longest time. Found out she returned the feelings, even when Eddie thought no one would ever love or want him again. The woman who made him feel cared for and important. Who had made him truly happy for the first time in God knows how long.

Apparently, the pain is clear on his face as he stares at the television, eyes not really absorbing whatever is playing on the screen. Brittany hangs up her coat and strolls over towards him.

“What’s the matter?” she asks. “Did your little girlfriend have to be home before curfew? She wouldn’t want to get grounded, would she?”

“Fuck off, Brittany,” Eddie says, glazed over eyes not even bothering to look in her direction. She doesn’t, of course. She takes a few steps closer, the heels of her shoes thumping against the carpet. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie sees her cross her arms over her chest. Her hip juts out to the side and he knows this isn’t going to end well.

“So, have you learned your lesson?” she asks. That makes him finally look over at her, face scrunching up.

“What?” he asks.

“She already found someone better, didn’t she? Probably just wanted you because she couldn’t have you. Or that’s what she thought, anyway. But you caved because she still has that new baby smell about her, right?”

Eddie pushes himself off the couch, jaw clenching as he stares her down. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Just because your God damned harem of men think it’s hot to be fucking someone who’s married—if you even told them—doesn’t mean that everyone is like that.”

“A harem is made up of women, you idiot,” she scoffs.

“That’s what you fucking took away from what I just said?” Eddie’s hands come up to grab at his hair, his fury and heartbreak reaching a boiling point. “You’re incredible. You know, I’ve known about your affairs for years. Fucking years, Brittany. Years. I was terrified Luke wasn’t even mine but thank God the kid looks just like me. And you know, I accepted it after a while. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was beyond pissed and hurt. But you, with your psychotic ways, made me think that no one else would ever care about me. Would ever want me. And that’s why you’re so mad now, isn’t it? Because I don’t feel so fucking worthless anymore. Because someone made me feel important after all your years of you trying to do the opposite.”

He takes a few deep breaths, his pulse raging and his breathing labored from behind so worked up. Brittany is looking at him with fire in her eyes, but Eddie doesn’t care. This explosion was long overdue and she was going to stand there and take it. “And yeah, maybe she’s young. Too young for me? Probably. But that’s not fucking up to you. That’s between me and her. But don’t you dare insinuate that I only want her because she’s young and beautiful. She is everything this world needs more of. Kind, caring, compassionate. Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot that you don’t know what those words even mean. I’d love her even if she was seventy-five and had more wrinkles than my shirts do after you attempt to do the laundry.”

It’s not until Brittany’s eyes widen that Eddie realizes what he just said. He loves you. It just came out with the litany of other words that spewed from his mouth, but he finds these to be truest of everything he said. God, I’m a fucking idiot, he thinks to himself.

Brittany stalks forward, a lioness about to devour her prey. If there was fire in her eyes before, now there’s an inferno. She grabs Eddie’s hand in one of hers, holding it palm up to the sky. With the other hand, she pulls something out of her purse and slaps it in his hand.

“Here,” she seethes. Eddie looks down and sees the pair of green lace panties you had lost in Brittany’s car. His fingers curl up around the material. He takes his hand that’s clutching the lace and holds it against his chest.

“You’re pathetic,” Brittany sneers. “We both know you won’t actually leave me. That would require you to grow a pair.” She walks into the kitchen and grabs a cupcake from the fridge; Eddie recognizes it as one that you brought over for the boys. “Have your fun, Eddie. I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back with your tail between your legs once you realize you’ll never have anyone as good as me.”

He wants to yell back at her, call her all the names in the book, blame her for cheating first. But she’s right–he’s a coward, too afraid to make waves. Instead of committing to the woman he wants to be with, he stays with the one he feels obligated to be with. He grabs his pillow from the bedroom, trudging to the couch for the night. He can’t bear to share a bed with someone who isn’t you.

Eddie can’t sleep, of course. Too many things are going through his head. I don’t want my kids to come from a broken family. But do I want them to grow up like this? Hearing their parents scream at each other at the top of their lungs? It’s not an example of a healthy relationship either, Eddie knows. And even at five and seven-years-old they already know their mom isn’t there for them. She doesn’t listen to them, show them affection, or even take care of them, really. Sometimes it feels like Eddie is a single parent. Although, that might be easier than this, he thinks.

But then he thinks about how you are with the boys. Always taking care to make sure they know you’re listening to them, that you hear them. Being firm but never mean when they act up. Buying them things with your own money just because you thought they’d like it. How excited they get when they see you, running over and smothering you in hugs and hellos. How much happier they are around you than they are Brittany. He’s seen the way they’ve physically cringed away from their own mother before. But with you, they never get enough. They always want one more hug, one more game, one more song. Yet, you never get annoyed by it. Most of the time, you agree to it. If Eddie is sure of one thing in life, it’s that you’re meant to be a mother. But did he miss the chance to share in that with you?

A tear snakes down the side of Eddie’s face and the heel of his hand comes up to rub at his eye. He sighs and turns on his side on the couch, adjusting the blanket on top of him. Something soft presses into Eddie’s hip, pressed between his body and the couch. He lifts his body enough to slip his hand into the pocket of his pajama pants. When he looks at the offending item, it’s your panties that Brittany had handed him before. A sniffle comes from Eddie as he balls up the lace in his hand. After holding it for a few minutes, Eddie slips the material back into his pocket.

Crying over a pair of panties, Munson? he thinks, that’s a new one. He flicks on the TV, desperate for a distraction. A rerun of that old crime show, Vega$, is playing. Eddie watches as Robert Urich struts across the street past a flashing neon sign advertising “Girls Girls Girls!!”

Eddie sits up so quickly that the blood rushes to his head. As soon as the dots clear from his vision, he’s grabbing the phone book.

At Eddie’s bachelor party, Steve had drunkenly married a stripper. He’d woken up the next morning and immediately got a lawyer, and it was like the whole thing never happened. Eddie knows his case won’t be so straightforward—he’s been married way longer than 24 hours, for one thing—but the lawyer who’d handled Steve’s divorce made it as painless as possible.

He finds the guy’s name and number and tears out the page, tucking it under his pillow. He’ll call first thing in the morning. And then he’s going to win back the love of his life.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #ayw #AYWS

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colonelarr0w · 2 months

Note

Hey! I saw that you’re writing for JJK characters - do you have a limit on your requests? I have some ideas!

My first one is yuta x sorcerer reader where they’re starting to develop romantic feelings for each other and reader begins to put themselves down by comparing themselves to rika (yuta is unaware they’ve been feeling this way)

Thank you!!🫶🫶🫶

Sypnosis - As odd as it was, you were jealous of a curse. But in truth, your own self-worth was to blame for the situation.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, RIka (I love her but she terrifies me)

A/N - I feel like this request would actually be me if I was at Jujutsu Tech, so thank you Anon for unknowingly making me feel very seen.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

It all started when you slowly began to distance yourself from Yuuta.

"Hey, Maki!" Yuuta waves, jogging towards Maki with a smile plastered onto his face. His arm is lifted in a friendly wave, one that Maki returns as he makes his way over to her. "Quick question, have you seen (Y/N) anywhere? I've been looking all over and I just can't find her."

Maki hums in thought, the tip of her weapon tapping against her lip. She shakes her head shortly after, her shoulders lifting in a shrug. "No idea, I haven't seen her either."

Yuuta's face falls, an expression of worry overtaking the smile that had previously turned his lips upward. His fingers fidget with one another, nails scraping against the sides of his skin as worry crawls into his stomach.

"I'm sure she's just caught up with her own missions, that's all," Maki says reassuringly, taking a mental note of the concerned expression that had slowly wormed its way onto Yuuta's face. She reaches out, placing a gentle palm against his shoulder and squeezing, smiling at him.

He nods in agreement – there had been times where his missions piled up and he was left with little to no time to relax. Maybe you just so happened to be caught up in the same situation, it wasn't unlikely.

"Right, yeah," he mutters offhandedly, his gaze shifting to the floor. He stares down at his shoes for a moment, feeling the pit of worry in his stomach only deepen.

< ... >

"(Y/N)! Hey!" Yuuta smiles widely upon seeing you walking beside Inumaki. He lifts his hand in a wave, pausing as he notices the darkened expression on your face. Your eyes flicker away from him, and through the side of your mouth you mumble something to Inumaki before quickly departing.

Yuuta slows as he grows nearer to Inumaki, eyebrows knit together curiously. Already, you were halfway down Jujutsu Tech's front stairs, back turned to both Yuuta and Inumaki.

He watches as you leave, turning then to Inumaki, who also stares curiously at you. The sudden change in attitude was unlike you — and he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t curious as to why you acted out the way that you had.

“Is everything okay with (Y/N)?” Yuuta inquires, lifting his finger to his mouth, nibbling nervously on it. Just over his shoulder, Rika watches curiously, her head tilted slightly to the side in a mixture of jealousy and intrigue.

"Salmon," Inumaki responds, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

< … >

Groaning to yourself, you catch your head as it falls into your hands. Laid out on your desk are your schoolbooks, none of which have anything written into them even though your original intention had been to catch up on the homework that you were missing.

But, of course, your mind had wandered elsewhere, too focused on a different situation entirely – your avoidance of Yuuta.

You hadn't meant to avoid him as much as you did, but it wasn't as if you could help it. Each and every time you did so much as look at him, she was right there to curl a protective hand around him, tugging him further and further away from you with every interaction.

Was it a little pathetic that you were comparing yourself to a Cursed Spirit? Maybe. But that didn't eradicate the fact that she actively kept Yuuta from doing anything with anyone – Maki was lucky to be within a five mile radius of Yuuta for training purposes.

Rika was protective – but it wasn't that fact that bothered you. What bothered you was the fact that, unlike Rika, you weren't able to protect or be there for Yuuta in the same way that she could. You weren't nearly as strong as she was, you were a measly Third-Grade after all.

You couldn't even keep up with your classmates – even Maki was too swift for you sometimes. Of course, there was always room to improve, but watching everyone else improve while you remained the same stung, like a fresh wound that you had just poured peroxide over.

Even with your lack of skill, your classmates still respected you like they would any other Jujutsu Sorcerer. Maki always made sure to offer her hand to you after training with you, Panda would offer you helpful advice when you ran the track with him, hell, even Inumaki would fix your form when you practiced your Cursed Technique.

And, of course, there was Yuuta.

He was the one to cheer you on during training, he was the one to help you patch whatever scratches your body sustained after lessons, he was the one to crack muttered jokes to you while Gojo lectured, he was the one to cut his lunch in half on the days that you had accidentally forgotten yours in your dorm – Yuuta had been there for you since the very beginning.

So then why did she make you as insecure as she did?

Rika was a curse, a manifestation of negative emotions. Her sole purpose is to protect Yuuta in situations where he's incapable of protecting himself. And even then, you had only really seen her in action once – and that was when she had lost control of herself watching Maki overpower Yuuta during a physical lesson.

You sigh to yourself, fingernails scratching against the sides of your head. A gentle sound rouses you from your thoughts, and it's then that you realize you had unintentionally started crying. You stare down at the tear marks that had fallen onto the pages of your notebook, smudging the lines and your writing.

You lift your fingers to swipe your tears away, already feeling pathetic at the fact that you found yourself crying over an issue that you genuinely had no control over. It wasn't as if you could exorcise Rika and suddenly all of your problems would have fixed themselves.

A knock at your dormitory door stops that thought before it can escalate.

"(Y/N)? It's me!"

Yuuta.

Quickly, you swipe your palms against your eyes, no doubt leaving the skin there red and irritated. Huffing in annoyance, you wipe the end of your shirt against your eyes, praying that he wouldn't be stupid enough to point out the obvious once you opened the door.

You stand from your desk, not bothering to push in your chair as you stride towards the door. On the other side is Yuuta, his lips pulled upward in that smile that always seemed to brighten everyone's day, no matter how dark it may have been.

You don't say anything, already feeling guilt seep into your bones. Even with you avoiding him constantly, Yuuta still came to find you. God, you felt like such a bitch.

"Hey," you say quietly, swallowing the waver in your voice and forcing yourself to smile at him.

"Hey. I – uh – noticed you've been distant lately. Is everything okay? Is there anything that you want to talk about with me?" Yuuta offers softly, wringing his hands out nervously in front of him. He did that often, mainly when he spoke to Maki. It was cute to you, how nervous he was.

"Oh," is all you manage to get out. Your eyes flicker away from his, instead watching as a group of students wander the hallways, turning the corner before vanishing from your line of sight. You know that Yuuta is still watching you expectantly, wanting you to say something but also not wanting to force you into an uncomfortable conversation.

No time like the present, right?

"It's a stupid issue, really. I wouldn't want to--"

"It's not stupid if it's you (Y/N)," Yuuta cuts you off, his cheeks immediately burning a bright shade of pink. He swallows quickly, lifting his hands and waving them back and forth. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to cut you off! But it's true!"

You stare in awe at him for a moment, your mouth dry as you stand silently in the doorframe of your dorm. Neither of you say anything for a second or two, staring at the other as if they had sprouted a second head.

"Sorry...how about we just talk, yeah?" Yuuta offers, his lips turning upward in another one of those smiles that melts your heart.

You nod, stepping to the side and permitting him entry. He walks past you, taking a seat on the small couch in your dormitory. He had been in there many times before, but recently, many of your little traditions had faded into nothing but little memories.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, tugging the skin upward before you release it just as you feel blood beginning to drip from the self-inflicted wound.

Hesitantly, you sit on the couch beside Yuuta, lifting your legs and crossing your ankles over one another. He waits patiently for you to start talking – the last thing that he wanted was to make you uncomfortable.

"I swear I didn't mean to be so distant," you begin. A buzzer sounds loudly in your head – liar. You continue anyway, ignoring the little nagging voice nestled in the back of your mind. "It's just, I don't know, I haven't felt great recently."

Yuuta remains silent, his hands folded in his lap as he watches you intently. He can feel his heart clenching at your words, how had he not noticed that you were suffering before?

"Why?"

"Because I'm not like you or anyone else. You all are special, you're all talented in your own way. Hell, even Rika is--"

You cut yourself off before you bite out an undeserved insult towards Rika. Your jealousy of her was strong, obviously, but you never wanted to verbalize that to Yuuta. What if then he turned his back on you too? Then you'd really be left with absolutely nothing.

"I just don't feel like I'm supposed to be here – at Jujutsu Tech," you finally admit. Internally, you cringe at just how childish your voice sounds, how it breaks between words and shakes as you bite back the sobs that rise in your throat.

You pause at the feeling of someone's fingers slipping into your own. Your gaze flickers down to where your hand had been resting on the couch, shocked to see that Yuuta had bravely reached out to hold your hand.

"You do belong here (Y/N). You're just as good a sorcerer as any of the rest of us, if not better. I mean, who else could take on Inumaki in a fight and stand a chance?"

Your lips quirk apprehensively into a smile. Yuuta smiles at the sight of it, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his fingers momentarily squeeze your own.

"I've always thought that you were the strongest," Yuuta whispers, talking as if he's sharing a secret that he wants only you to hear. Your cheeks heat at his words, eyes widening slightly.

"Really?"

Yuuta nods happily, squeezing your fingers again. "Yeah."

You find yourself smiling at him, feeling your heart warm at his sentiment. Suddenly, every single negative comment you had ever uttered to yourself fades into the void – replaced instead by the warmth that Yuuta's words had provided you.

"And I've always love-" Yuuta cuts himself off, pressing his lips together into a firm line before he's able to finish. You glance upward, already feeling your heart sink at the sight of Rika hovering behind Yuuta, her clawed hand resting on his shoulder. It feels like she's tempting him to finish, wanting to have an excuse to begin screaming and throwing a tantrum.

You retract your hand from Yuuta's grip, but amazingly, he reaches for you again. For the first time, he ignores the curse behind him, keeping his focus solely on you. Only you.

"Yuuta-"

"I've always loved you (Y/N). And I hate to hear you say that you think you aren't as strong as the rest of us because in all honesty, you're stronger than any of us could ever be," Yuuta explains, wincing as he feels Rika claw into his shoulder, but he continues to ignore her presence.

"If it wasn't for you, I don't think that any of us would be where we are right now."

Weirdly enough, you feel yourself tearing up at Yuuta's words, the burning sensation of tears blurring your vision, obscuring your view of Yuuta. He smiles at you, using his other hand to brush away the tears that just barely cling to your bottom lash line.

He opens his arms to you, smiling as you shift into them, pressing your face into his shoulder and allowing yourself to be wrapped in the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice caught by the fabric of his shirt, but he hears you all the same.

"You don't need to thank me for anything."

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta fanfiction #yuuta fanfiction #yuuta okkotsu x you

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axelsagewrites · 4 months

Text

Jamie Tartt*Famous

Pairing: Jamie x reader

Word count: 1841

Warnings: mentions of football related hate but nothing graphic, angst/breakup but everything’s happy by the end

Masterlist Here

Dating a famous footballer was not exactly something you’d ever planned on. You were never into football especially when you saw what it could cause. You remember being five years old crawled up crying as your relatives gathered round the television shouting and swearing because their team missed the penalty. Then you got older and found out the even worse things some men did because of a missed kick.

But somehow you ended up dating ‘the’ Jamie Tartt. Though you didn’t even know who he was when you met him. He was just a boy, and you were just a girl both sitting alone in a bar. Jamie had been nursing a pint for an hour when you came in and his jaw about dropped. However, he’d sworn to himself when ted told him last night, he could come back to Richmond he’d fix his act so he didn’t pounce like he usually would.

“Can I get a vodka lemonade please?” He heard you from across the bar and he could practically hear the sweetness in your voice.

The bar however gradually got busier and when Jamie returned from the bathroom, he realised there was only one seat left and it was next to you. “d’you mind if I sit? Just someone stole my seat,” he asked, suddenly realising how nervous he was for no reason.

You turned around and smiled at him before nodding to the seat, “Yeah sure. It’s pretty busy,”

“Tell me about it. Hate crowds sometimes. Make my head feel all fuzzy,” he smiled at the way you giggled not even caring if you were laughing at him. “Watcha want?” He asked after ordering his own drink and you hesitated for a moment, “Cmon, no strings or nothing. Just a drink. Vodka lemonade maybe?”

You laughed lightly and nodded, turning to the lady, “Yeah one of them please,” you turned back to Jamie as she worked on your drinks. “Its nice to meet you…” you said, words trailing off till Jamie finally realised you were asking his name.

“Jamie,” he said, sticking his hand out for what turned into a half awkward half laughy handshake that then turned into you both chatting till last call and Jamie walking you home.

Somehow his job hadn’t came up. It was partially because you had made a joke about hating football on your second date but also because Jamie was enjoying the normalcy of it all. Even if it meant when he spotted a paparazzi, he would very suddenly drag you away to a random shop or restaurant, putting up his hoodie to ruin their shot.

However eventually he had to tell you. He hadn’t put his hood up quick enough and their plastered on a magazine was Jamie holding your hand walking through London. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, staring at yourself on the magazine in shock.

“You never asked?” He offered with a sorry smile, “I wanted to love but I just,” he sighed, “I didn’t want you to judge me or that. Cause I really like you,” he reached out to take your hand as you both sat on your couch.

You gave him a small smile, stroking your thumb over his hand, “So is this something that happens all the time? Pap’s following us around? Do people come up to you in the street and stuff?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged since to Jamie this was just life, but he didn’t know at this point what was normal, “I mean like they’re pretty easy to ignore most the time,”

“Its just weird. I mean I’m on a magazine,” you said, eyes wide as you gestured to the glossy paper, “I never thought I’d end up being just some WAG,”

Jamie scoffed, “Babe you’re way more than a WAG,” he said as he put an arm around your shoulder, “You’re my girl. That is if you’ll still have me?”

“Of course, I will Jamie. It’ll just take me some time to get used to,”

However now the press knew you existed the paparazzi weren’t exactly easy to ignore. It was one thing being followed around with Jamie but one of them was waiting outside your work last week asking if you were another fling or if the pregnancy rumours were true. His comments sent you into a complete spiral with Jamie coming over to try comfort you.

“He was just rude Jamie,” you sniffled into his chest.

“I know baby,” he tried to comfort you as he stroked your back, “It’ll be okay. You get used to it really and they’re not all that bad. Promise,” he said as he kissed the top of your head.

“I just wish,” you sighed, “that you’d told me in the first place,”

“What difference would it have made?” Jamie asked however your lack of response made him worry as he pulled back to look at your face, “Would you have said no? When I asked you to be my girlfriend. Would you have said no if you knew?”

You opened your mouth to speak but you struggled to get the words out. “I don’t know,” you managed to choke out, “I just don’t know if I can deal with this. I’m not good with attention let alone paparazzi following me. I never asked for any of this Jamie,” you began to ramble. “I like you I really do. But it’s a lot, okay?”

Jamie sighed however he almost cried when you pulled yourself out of his arms, “I like you too, but football is my job. It’s my life,”

“And I would never want you to give that up,” you said instantly, reaching for his hand, “Maybe we should just take a break? That way I can I don’t ease into it? Or like I don’t know just wrap my head around it,”

Jamie felt himself freeze in his seat. He nodded slowly before standing up, “Okay if that’s what you need,”

“I’m sorry Jamie. I really am,” you said, standing to follow him as he headed for the doors.

Jamie nodded once more as he reached for the handle, “Its not your fault. I should’ve told ya,”

“Jamie,” you said but he’d already opened the door. “We aren’t over its just…”

“Just a break,” he said, nodding his confirmation before walking out the door but you felt your heart shatter as the door shut.

Even though the paparazzi had stopped, and two weeks had gone by you still felt absolutely awful. You hadn’t seen Jamie in real life but suddenly you were seeing him on the news and his name on the back of kid’s jerseys. You began to wonder if it was for the best but every reminder of him stung.

Neither one of you had texted the other. You’d not heard from him at all since you left. Until yesterday when you got an email confirmation from Richmond fc with a ticket reserve confirmation in the buyer’s box under the name Tartt. The game was tomorrow, and you spent the whole day and yesterday debating if you would go. Eventually you decided not to.

However today when you woke up the first thing you saw was an article about the match going on today. Richmond was playing some team you’d never heard of but then again you only knew who Richmond were because you lived a 15-minute walk away from the stadium. The game was supposed to start at twelve. As your eyes fell to the clock that read 10:48 you finally made up your mind.

You’ve never gotten ready so quick in your life and you were practically running out your flat at 11:35 and half sprinting to Richmond. However, you had no idea how to collect the tickets and the ticket man at the counter looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, so you just bought a seat instead.

You were ushered inside alongside hundreds of rowdy football fans decked out in Richmond gear. You did your best to find your seat and thanked the gods when you saw it was at the end of the aisle. It was three rows up from the front and you quickly realised right next to the thing the footballers came out of.

You felt your smile almost split your face when you watched Jamie walk out of the tunnel in his uniform, but he didn’t see you. As they turned to wave to the crowds the whole crowd jumped up so there was no chance, he heard you screaming his name alongside everyone else.

As the game started you actually found yourself enjoying it as you screamed and cheered alongside the football fans as Jamie scored another goal. It was 2-2 thanks to Jamie and you’d never felt prouder. “Cmon Jamie!” You screamed but you weren’t even the loudest as he ran down the pitch with the ball.

He passed to another player. Him to another. Back to Jamie. Now to someone up the field and then, “GOAL!” The crowd began to cheer and a few seconds later the final whistle rung. Everyone began to jump up and down and you quickly joined them as you jumped up clapping as you did so. The team were all smiles, well apart from a really big hairy guy, as they headed for the tunnel. Jamie however wasn’t smiling as he wore a look of concern.

Your eyes however were locked on Jamie. He however was looking up at the buyer’s box waiting to see you. However, it wasn’t until his eyes fell, thinking you were officially over when he saw you. His smile suddenly appeared, beaming brightly as he stopped in his tracks.

“Woo!” You cheered, clapping even harder. You could never quite predict Jamie. No one could. Not even Jamie thought he was going to do what he was about to do.

He ran for the stands, throwing himself up and climbing over the wall. The crowd was going mental, but your cheers stopped but the smile on your face didn’t as he ran up the stairs, ignoring the fans trying to pat him on the back.

“Hey,” he breathed out with a wide grin.

“Hi,” you giggled right back at him as you stepped forward. You could hear his team yelling at him and a ref coming but neither of you cared as his arm wrapped around your back and his head began to dip.

God you’d missed these lips. Your hand went to the back of his neck as the crowd whooped and hollered. Jamie pulled back as a ref rang a sharp whistle in his ear. “Call me yeah?” He said just before the hairy guy from his team pulled him halfway down the stairs.

“Yeah sure,” You laughed as he was forced back down the stairs and out the tunnel, somehow only receiving a yellow card. It may not be how you planned it, but you were certainly never gonna let Jamie go again. Youd already made that mistake once.

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#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fluff #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tart x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tart fluff #jamie tartt angst #ted lasso angst

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cloveroctobers · 3 months

Text

FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.

WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.

You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.

The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)

It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.

Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.

Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”

“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”

That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.

Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!

You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”

Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”

“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.

Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”

“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”

Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”

You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.

Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.

Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”

“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”

Sydney says, “give it time.”

“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.

Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”

“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.

“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.

You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”

Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.

“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”

“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.

“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.

Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”

“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.

Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—

“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—

Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”

He nods.

“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”

“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.

If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.

He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.

That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.

You weren’t clueless.

He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.

What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?

The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.

“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.

“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.

“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”

“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.

Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”

“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.

See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?

You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”

Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—

“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”

“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”

You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”

Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”

“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.

The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.

If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?

You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.

A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.

“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.

It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

“We had fun at that club way back when no?”

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.

The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.

Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.

“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”

You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

“You didn’t even hear all the details!”

“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.

Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.”

You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”

“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.

Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.

Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.

Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.

You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.”

“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.

“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”

Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.

Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.

You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.

Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.

The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.

He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.

Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.

“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.

Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”

“Watching you prep.”

You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”

A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”

“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.

“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.

You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”

“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.

Which is a sight to see.

You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”

Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”

“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.

Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.

“The hell is this place?”

You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”

“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”

You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.

“What looks good?”

“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”

The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”

“Sounds good...I guess?”

“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.

“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.

You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”

“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.

You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”

It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.

“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.

You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”

“That’s not really my problem?”

“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”

Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”

“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.

You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.

*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*

Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.

Not you.

“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.

You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”

Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.

“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.

That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.

So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.

“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.

Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”

“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”

Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”

Sydney.

You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.

“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.

His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”

You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.

The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.

Communication was important people!

And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.

“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.

Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”

Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”

She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.

“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.

Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”

Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”

“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”

“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”

Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.

“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”

“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—

“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—

“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”

“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”

Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.

“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.

“I saw you—

“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.

You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.

“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.

You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”

Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.

He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.

“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.

He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”

“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”

Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.

“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”

And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!

You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”

You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.

You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.

If you believe in that shit.

So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.

He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.

Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.

He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.

Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.

Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉

“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.

You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.

Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”

“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”

“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.

Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???

Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.

He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.

Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”

He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.

“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”

Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”

“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.

You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”

“Uh, cash.” Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”

“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.

Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”

“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”

Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”

“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.

The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.

“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.

You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”

“What’s the rating?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.

He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”

“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.

Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”

Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”

“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”

And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”

“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”

“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”

“Yet.”

Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”

“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”

Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”

“I said that?”

“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”

Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.

Someone just had to look hard enough.

“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”

“What do you want?”

“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”

“You swore off love.”

“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”

Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?

Maybe.

Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.

He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.

“How’d—

“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.

It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?

So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.

“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.

You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.

“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.

Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”

You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”

Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”

“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”

Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”

“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.

And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.

You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.

Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.

And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

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