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n0tamused · 10 days

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Can i request a drabble with Newbie Assistant reader! x jing yuan? I've been thinking (daydreaming) abt this for a while with my delulu brain. From what qingzu says, he prefers everyone adress him as jing yuan. And not full title.

Where reader is his wife and he can't go 1 minute without hugging her and worst part, she works at the seat of divine foresight and everyone at the seat has to witness his love sick behavior. I imagine especially fu xuan will be pissed like 'get to work, general!'

Honestly just a food for thought u don't have to take this srsly. Luv u, byeee <33

A/n: Anon you got my gears turning with this food and you have successfully dragged me out of the hole of writer's block. Thank you for that and I really hope you enjoy this little drabble I made, specifically for the second prompt! Man I love this man I wanna eat him. Just imagine him with a wife that's also on the strict side and just knows to get him back to his work but he just wants another kiss before he lets her leave his embrace-

Content: female reader, fluff, drabble

Big arms find their place around her waist and before she can pluck them off, Jing Yuan has slotted himself against her back. His chin rested on top of her shoulder and his golden eyes sluggish dragged their gaze over the documents his lovely wife was working on sorting out. A signature smile remained plastered over his lips even when he felt the scolding words bubble in your throat.

He never shared her shyness, as he called it, in the workplace. It was nothing that could damage either of their reputation, a little bit of hugging and a few cheek kisses here and there - if anything, he held firm belief that more warm displays of affection could even make the workplace be less stagnant. Why does everyone have to be so stiff? Jing Yuan knew to not cross any boundaries that could make his affections be perceived as something odd or even bad. But in an empty office, like the state it was in now, where no one paid them any mind, he really couldn’t help but pounce at the opportunity.

“Have you finished your paperwork so soon today, General?” she’d bite at him with her words, fully familiar with his tendencies to neglect the piling papers on his desk.

“Certainly. For today I have done the amount my hands could endure” Jing Yuan responded with a peck to the side of her exposed neck, smiling into her skin when he smelled some of his soap there. She smelled so warm, so relaxing, and it made him squeeze her in his arms just a little more. He heard his love exhale at his squeeze, and despite the facade she tried to keep on, he could see traces of a smile on her pretty lips when he lifted his gaze. “And what did we say about name calling? I’m Jing Yuan to you, your white lion, your husband, am I not?” He playfully nips at her ear, his warm breath fanning across her skin and making her hairs stand on their ends. “Or have you decided to take back your vows all of a sudden?” That gains a reaction out of you, a huff of a chuckle flying past your mouth at the absurd way he delivered that question. He sounded so serious about it, offended even, making her shift in his embrace.

“Jing Yuan-”

“You just keep gaining more beauty, my love, do you know?”

A long sigh and her shaking her head tell him enough, and he smiles when he sees her smile. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of this. Unhand me now, my dearest husband-” she says it as if she hates it, swatting at his hands until their grip falters. She could swat at them all she wanted but she knew that getting him off of her in this instant would be like trying to separate a nail from the flesh. “You may have done what you think is all for today, but I have more work to get to.. Tell you what..” her eyes finally grace him with the attention of her gaze and he feels like kissing her again, but he refrains as to hear her out. “If you tend to all those papers I’ll pamper your scoundrel self once we are back home, hm? If you don’t, well you can expect the cold shoulder and the couch as your bedroom until it gets done”

“You are too cruel to me, my dear, you hurt me so..” he feigns offense, all while he leans in and litters her cheek with feather kisses before he finally gets to her lips. One of his hands had snuck its way up and held her other cheek in its palm, tilting her head towards him as he pressed his lips against hers.

"You know I must resort to rougher measures when you're slacking off-" "Shhh.." he hushes her and places another kiss to her mouth.

Safe to say, that paperwork did get done later. And Jing Yuan got to enjoy a really touchy afternoon with you in his arms.

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x female reader #female reader #jing yuan x yn #jing yuan imagine #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagine #hsr x reader #-dragon.treasure #imagine #fluff #fluff drabble #honkai star rail fluff

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horang-07 · 6 months

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i am about to ramble like a crazy person abt the fnaf movie so scroll if u don’t like spoilers

was not expecting all the love on my last post so i will keep posting thoughts abt the movie

another thing that rlly interested me in the movie was the focus on images, how humans process things through what we see rather than context, and how this sets up the fnaf movie trilogy to focus on fnaf 4 in the next movies.

the most obvious example is abby, we’re explicitly told that children communicate and understand things through pictures, which mike sorta shrugs off until he starts seeing the bigger picture. this then applies to the animatronics when he learns that they are also children and incredibly influenced by the drawings in their environment. the restaurant in the movie is very much a living thing of its own, the way it thrums to life when abby enters, and the animatronics know the truth of the drawing the second it is pinned up, and the animatronics are an extension of that.

a less obvious example is mike. even though he shrugs off abby’s teacher, and the point she makes about him being at the centre of all her pictures, he is much the same. it isn’t just children who are influenced by images. he has been returning to the same image every night for we don’t even know how long, the same picture of the nebraskan trees, the same perfect family picture he describes to vanessa, the same image of his brother looking at him out of the car window. everything he does is a result of this image. he is wholly consumed by it, believes he can somehow change the picture and see the truth beneath it if he just tries hard enough.

the ghost children, specifically golden freddy, change the image for him in an attempt to placate him into giving them abby, but no matter if he dreams of a happy family, it wont change the truth of what happened. just like how pasting a picture of five children happily holding hands with a golden bunny won’t change the truth underneath. images are fallible, they don’t tell the truth and we cannot trust our brains.

firstly i think this is a really fun direction to take in context to how the movie humanises the animatronics. fnaf 1 is a game made entirely of scary, still images of the animatronics, save for the jumpscares and foxy’s run. the lore is sparse and entirely given through exposition (if i hear one more person complain abt vanny only being there for exposition and not phone guy’s two minute loredump at the start of every night in the game i will lose it), and we know nothing other than that our death is imminent.

but the truth is that these animatronics are kids. they’re scared and lost and confused and cannot understand what has happened. underneath bonnie in the west hallway camera and freddy staring at you from the showtime room are terrified kids doing what they feel they have to. the movie was incredibly dedicated to showing that these kids still want to build pillow forts and sing to music and tickle their friends and be a family and i think it was a great choice.

i think all this focus on images is definitely a perfect lead into fnaf 4 (im not 100% on my book lore but i believe there are three books that cover fnaf 1, fnaf 4 and then sister location??) especially with the recent lore update that all of fnaf 4 is hallucinations. we don’t need a lore explanation of how the nightmares could be real because… they aren’t. following the game timeline, fnaf 4 would have already happened by now but we could easily see a return to it through mike, especially if the schmidt-emily or schmidt-afton theories are true and mike could have been the child in fnaf 4 but surpressed his memories. firstly we have a protagonist who is already on sleeping medication and has dreams that can be easily manipulated. this is a perfect setup for the nightmare animatronics to start making themselves known.

i also think that fnaf 1 was intentionally visually tame. the themes of the movie are actually very dark, they don’t shy away from the truth of the bodies being hidden in the suits, the animatronics Very Brutally kill the burglars, max is literally bitten in half and her body is hidden away, but the on-screen gore keeps it pg. this 100% allows them to experiment further with the levels of gore, tension and violence if they do fnaf 4, because quite frankly some of the nightmares are horrifying.

TLDR this movie sets up a million directions and theories that the next one could go in, and theres nothing the fnaf fandom loves more than vague lore and theory crafting

vanny post next bc i have Thoughts

#eden rambles #fnaf spoilers #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #william afton #five nights at freddy's #vanessa afton #fnaf 4 #fnaf theory

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delicrieux · 10 months

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—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.3: sweet dreams, chicago

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—anxiety, (+18) masturbation, mb one (1) allusion to a blowjob, swearing, excessive use of cigarettes word count—3.6k

detailed instructions on how to fuck up your life in 30 seconds

author’s note: tremendously down bad, lonely, and socially inept? not talking abt u LOSER im talking abt carmen. my lil meow meow

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | eyvcte masterlist | < back. next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3

tell them

not white, gray – the exact color of cigarette ash, the red ember a reflected streak of sunlight; these walls box him in, and it’s always a surprise that space can feel so vast and so confining all at once. the plastic chair he sits on is unforgiving on his back. his foot sounds a pattern on the tiled floor to impair the silence.

he’s aware of it, of everything: his pursed lips, trembling lashes, quick blinks, slight sniffle, flitting irises, the light coat of sweat forming by his hairline. the taunt flex of his muscles; twitch of fingers that have nothing to grasp onto but each other. the tapping. pulsing in his jaw and temple. the tapping.

tell them

he tries to stare ahead, keep straight – it’s not expected of him, but he wishes he could do it. wishes he could face the silhouette sat across, too close and too far.

“well?” she prompts – a prim woman with a kind face sunken from all the miseries she had collected over the years, “how are you, carmen?”

a sharp exhale through the nose, like a humorless snort; corner of his lips pinching into a grimace that could resemble a smile, if one was generous enough, “how am i?” he repeats, “how am i?”

tell them

tell them your

“chef?”

storage closet. he keeps his hand firmly on the handle and breathes, jaw tense, head bent, illuminated in the shitty buzzing lights. the containers are organized – did it himself. methodically set cans with no spaces between them, all in neat rows. one’s a bit too close to the edge, sticking out. someone had moved it. he rubs his chin before pushing it back.

his hand falls from the handle and settles on his hip as he sighs, looks up, feels a rush of air tinted with spices and the overwhelming noise of the kitchen pierce the coveted silence of his hiding place when the door cracks open. she pokes her head in and he doesn’t look, can’t look, can’t sleep, can’t–

“you good?”

kindness is always startling, even when it’s the standard. her words hold no weight of deep inquiry, only a shallow question mark. it’s enough. he lives on scraps. “yeah, uh, thanks,” his tips his chin in her direction and his eyes flit over the crown of her head. can’t look for long; he’ll search for thank you and love you despite knowing they’re covered.

“i was just, uh, was just, needed to check,” he vaguely motions behind himself, and the knot in his throat tightens slightly, “something, s-so…” maybe she decides to take him out of his misery. maybe he’s the only one that notices he’s drowning.

“family’s up.” she informs him, offers a small smile that he thinks is pity. can’t be sure.

“yeah, yeah, o-okay, i’ll, uh, i’ll, i’ll join you in a,” the hasty spill of his words slows, quiets. he inhales, brows crinkled and eyes focused on the new streaks on the floor he’ll have to clean, “i’ll join you in a minute.”

“i’ll save you a seat.” not a proposition mentioned aimlessly and left to rot in his subconscious, but a statement. and she’ll always save a seat for him, because he’ll always be late, and in the rare occasions that he won’t, he’ll be too early. she’ll save him a seat by the table and pat the couch next to herself when the staff’ll huddle to watch a Bulls game; she’ll save a slot for him on her free day to come into his office and help sort through papers; she’ll save her hand from others so that he could hold it and she’ll save a pair lace panties the color of her eyes that’ll tear through the flower pattern because he’ll be too rough and because he’ll like the way they look on her.

she’ll save a cup that’ll shatter during one of their arguments, glue it back together. the cracks will show, and it’ll be blotched, but he’ll still use it, even if the edge’ll be chipped and he’ll cut his lip and she’ll be long gone by then.

he’s mostly himself when he joins everyone, if he even knows what that entails. tina’s explaining form to marcus, and sydney’s on her phone, and richie and neil are discussing something with too many theatrics, and the rest of the staff shares idle conversation punctuated by comfortable silence. there’s an empty spot for him, food set in a plastic container and cutlery placed trimly – must’ve been her. too even, she’s borderline about these things. he appreciates them, because he’s like that, too.

a smile eases the tension from his shoulders, if a bit. he pulls the chair back, takes a seat, and her head ticks to the side to acknowledge him. no big speech, no welcome back or you good again, just a slight curiosity that makes her teeth pull on her lip. he dares a glance that doesn’t linger.

"verdict?” he asks the table, feeling the familiar flutter of anxiety squeeze his throat.

sydney: ‘s good. real good richie: too fucking fancy [god] this the type of shit they serve up in yee-whole-fucking-new-of-the-fucking-york? her: wouldn’t expect you to recognize shit from food [fuck you] since your mouth is always full of it richie: oh ha ha [cousin] look at us folks [cousin] we got a fucking comedian with us tina: shut it [so/rry] both of you. not by the table richie: not by the fucking table, kid [fuck you] marcus: i like it

it’s kinda funny, it’s kinda familiar, it’s kinda comforting. he glances at her again, sees her holding up her knife like a sword aimed at richie on the other side of the table. they mimic one another – in movement, in tone, in smiles that are careful not to display too much. friends. carmen watched this happen in his peripherals, sometimes through the haze of cigarette smoke. observed the pointed jabs and nudges that were harder each time as if they were competing who could knock the other off of their feet first. stupid, amusing, the nascence of a friendship.

whatever. it’s not that, it’s just, just that carmen’s the way he is and someone could roll their eyes at him and kill and sydney, well, he got along with sydney instantly – she came at a confusing fucking time, a breath of fresh air, and really, for a while, he only had her to help him navigate the clusterfuck of a dynamic of his brother’s staff. she was new, he was new, and it was natural they stuck together to survive the nuclear winter of a chicagoan kitchen. till he was approved as one of them, and she was, too, but, and it’s nothing, it’s dumb, fucking idiotic, it’s like he’s six again all of a sudden and no one wants to play ball with him in the fucking playground.

he’s not even left out, and he still feels like he’s somehow forbidden to join, even if he doesn’t want to, even if he doesn’t know what to say. as if he’d break some sacred law and inspire a drastic butterfly affect that would ripple into something abhorrent. the other shoe. there’s no first one and he’s already waiting for the drop.

“cousin,” richie calls, “cousin, she’s trying to fucking murk me. pretty sure that violates some sorta fine print.”

“better sleep with one eye open in that case.” carmy mumbles, a faint smile pulling on the corner of his lips as he watches the exchange briefly before he returns to the food. melts in his mouth. holds a sweet, syrupy tang, and, fuck, this is noma, this has fucking noma written all over it, even the cinnamon zest blended with orange peel.

no noma on her resume; dad must’ve taught her, then. how to blend and cook all of this shit to make the chicken taste like butter. probably needed to scour the whole kitchen for leftover ingredients, open a few rusted drawers for pipettes to measure lemon drops. stay up again prepping. filming. not sleeping. don’t look.

needlessly complicated and missing some parsley. coincidentally, they ran out of it this morning.

he looks at her because she’s not looking at him and for a moment he takes in her profile – the slope of her nose and the dip leading to her cupid’s bow. “‘s good.” he says after a short pause, and as soon as she turns in his direction he’s back to his food. the taste, this time, is compounded by added discomfort, “where’d you learn this from, anyway? there are recipe?”

“my dad. sorta,” she explains, “he’s also a chef. and he used to make it for me when i came to visit, soooooo, since it was my first time cooking family ‘n all…i thought, why not? y’know? just to upset richie.”

“heard that, kid.”

he snorts, leaning back into his chair, head dipped and container held in hand. glances at her from under his lashes, and maybe direct eye contact is not as scary when he wants her to be looking back. that small smile of his is pulls on his lips again, “‘s good.” he repeats.

“you like it?” her voice can be soft, and so can her features.

“i like it,” he admits, “thank you, chef.”

she smiles and it’s like a fucking firework.

he tries not to look too hard, scared what he might find there. metronome. dull, almost, like the beating of his heart in his chest, yet it pulses through him, from the back of his head all the way to his feet. the tapping.

tell them

he rubs his faces with his hands, leans forward, as if the words are physically trying to get out. doesn’t want to say it; doesn’t want to admit that he can’t dress for the weather and that he’s wearing a gray woolen sweater which blends into these walls, that he blends in, that he’s invisible.

“i’ve, uh,” pinches the bridge of his nose, wanes the upcoming headache – too many cigarettes and not enough sleep, “i’ve been going through somethin’.”

like her pictures on a late monday night fresh out of the shower. the phone light catches damp hair falling in ringlets. the towel is still slung around his shoulders – white, clean, he’s done his laundry, it’s a fucking miracle. it was a notification that distracted him mid-way putting on a t-shirt, was like a beacon in the dark on his bedside table. bare feet padded to grasp it and here he stands, gaping like a fucking idiot with nothing but boxers on and cold water dripping down his back.

wasn’t supposed to look. made a promise, swore it in the mirror staring into clear blue eyes that held nothing. wasn’t his intention, either, it just happened. everything seems to just happen to him. she just seem to text him at 1 in the morning the recipe from a few days back, and he just seems to find her profile again because he just wants to look. no further reason. she just seems to follow him and he just seems to pretend not to notice because he’s not very good at this, he’s not really good at anything.

and there she is, confined in a little electronic device held in his hand, looking at the camera, looking at him, and he’s not really sure what to do with himself. text back, likely, but he can’t think of a response – thank you? thanks? thumbs up emoji? chef emoji? just to mix it up a bit. the mattress dips when he sits on the bed. where the fuck are his cigarettes?

never too far, and the lighter isn’t, either, so he stands, and his phone is still in his hand like the thing is fucking glued to it, and he cracks the window open to let the summer night in. chicago doesn’t sleep, and neither does she, it seems, but he doesn’t, either, and when his teeth have something to bite onto he feels like he found an anchor.

thank you and love you are objectively interesting detonators, but there are other rare gems. where she’s smiling. look taken off-guard and never by her personally, always by someone else: hugging a bottle in the midnight new york vista, nursing a to-go cappuccino by the bodega too early in the morning, holding up a plastic puka shell necklace in the backdrop of a souvenir shop somewhere in yucatan. hugging her mother wearing a tracksuit while the former’s poised in a neat blazer. they look similar. carmen looks like his mother, too.

she’s more approachable when her eyes crinkle and cheeks apple and lips stretch to reveal a crescent line in the corner. pretty. real pretty. too pretty. maybe that’s why he doesn’t know what to say. maybe she doesn’t expect him to say anything. maybe that’s why she sent the message.

‘s not fair. he knows too much about her. knows her dad’s a renowned chef and her mother’s a business exec with a penthouse in brooklyn; knows she gets her tattoos in-house, on the couch, from some low-key junkie-looking artist that always wears a beanie; knows she worked in an upscale restaurant in wallstreet. chef whites, neat, trimmed, fitting – nothing he can offer in his fucked joint. fuck is she doing in chicago, anyway? spent last summer backpacking across europe with a distinctly new york-looking art school dropouts that wore the latest sneakers and tiffany necklaces. rich kids, rich kid, what she gets now was likely her daily allowance.

all of that just because he’s noisy. just because he’s curious. just because she’s pretty and he’s too scared to actually talk to her.

shouldn’t talk to her about anything anyway. too awkward – can hardly form a coherent sentence without ripping his hair out in the first place. he’s her boss, she’d think he’s a fucking weirdo if she knew how much he had gathered about her already. just from looking. does sydney know? does richie know? that would be fucked. oddly insulting, even. but since carmen hasn’t heard richie calling her a spoiled brat yet, he supposes it’s safe to assume this information hasn’t reached him yet.

parasocial as shit. he feels on the verge of a panic attack by the way his heart is hammering in his chest. maybe it’s the 5th cigarette. maybe it’s because he’s been sleep deprived. maybe it’s because looking at her makes him lonely and this is fucked and just put the fucking phone down, carmen.

she's really hot, though. but he can’t say so, not out loud. not right now. not here. not in front of the bed, where the mattress sags when he sits, or in the window, where the wind rattles the glass ringing of common sense.

‘thanks for the recipe’ is a good start, ‘cool tats by the way’ is definitely a line that has crossed his mind, but can’t text that, either. too personal. too easy. too close. fuck did he look at them anyway, too busy staring at her tits. fuck.

she’d think he’s a creep because somehow, in the divine comedy of his life, he’d let it slip somehow, because he’s stupid. because thank you and love you slap at him on odd hours during the day. because he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

feels like he’s a teen again and a girl from school sent him her homework to copy. only the girl in a hot rich kid from nyc that works in his restaurant and is so far out of his league that she’s in a different fucking orbit.

the mattress dips again. he closes his eyes, exhales slowly, rubs his face with his free hand. can’t stop thinking. can’t stop looking. staring. wanting. get a fucking hold of yourself. doesn’t want to. too tired. too fucked. too alone.

she’s so pretty.

so smart.

so fucking pretty.

what is he doing? what the fuck is he doing?

he tries to swallow, but it feels like there's sand in his throat. can't think straight, every corner leads to her anyway in a comical gotcha moment. can't go back. can't go forward. can't do anything but sit here, stare at the phone, think the last threads of his fizzling mind will conceive a reply.

say something. say something.

she's so fucking pretty and his dick is so fucking hard.

inhales again, this time slowly. feels the first tremors of an erection ignored, the pulse in his neck, in his wrists.

his heart is pounding and he wants her to look at him, wants to look at her, wants to feel her touch him, wants to show her how much he wants her.

"fucking christ," he can hear the breathless crack in his voice. feel it, taste it.

his face burns and his hair falls over his forehead, already drying. there's sweat on his brow and a lump in his throat from the steady rise of panic, anticipation, desperation, whateverthefuck. the blood in his veins pounds through his chest – he can feel the vibration in his bones, and god, god god god, he’s so fucking horny.

can't move. can't breathe. can't think. can't stand being alone. can't stand the silence. can't stand not doing anything and can’t stand being like this because he’s not supposed to. not allowed, breach of contract, jesus, who does this shit in their spare time? a lot of people, probably, but carmen wouldn’t know.

"fuck."

he wants to close his eyes because she’s so cold on the screen but so warm in his mind. can’t do that. can't stop palming dick over his boxers, either – wants to pull them down, but that would mean looking at himself, so he stares at her picture instead.

he feels like a teenager again, vaguely wants to throw up. can't believe how hard he is. he's not supposed to be like this. this isn't going to end well.

he knows he's gonna fuck this up because he's already fucking it up. can't stop staring at her. can't stop touching himself. can't stop thinking about what she'd do if she knew he was sitting here ready to jerk off to her.

she'd probably freak the fuck out, and she'd have every right to. that doesn't stop that wandering hand of his from dipping below the elastic band anyway.

his breath scratches at his throat, stuck there as he feels his hand brush something warm. glances down, sees his middle finger pressing against the swollen tip. looks back at the phone, sees her smile, the hint of her teeth; his cock twitches at the sight of her like some deranged pavlovian response. his fingers curl around his shaft and go down in a nice, long stroke.

"fuck me," he hisses. eyes squeeze shut and hips push forward and head rolls back to release a small groan.

it's a slow slide of a rough palm, with just enough pressure to cause shivers. he thinks of her lips wrapped around his him. the way her tongue would tease him. the way her hair would tickle his thighs.

"so pretty," he breathes, but the words are lost in the rhythm of his hand, "fuck, sorry."

fingers and palm slide over the sensitive head, each pass adding more pressure until his hips buck and it feels like someone punched him in the gut and he sucks in a breath, the sound coming out more like a moan; squeeze, tighter this time, and he groans louder, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. teeth clamp down on his lower lip and all the oxygen in his lungs leaves with that.

the hand with the hand pierced by a kitchen knife pumps faster, coating the creases and veins in warm, sticky pre-cum leaking from the tip and leaving a stain on his boxers. he's breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that matches the throbbing of his cock.

he's so close already. so close he feels like he might actually lose his mind if he doesn't come soon.

"hm, fuck," he breathes out, eyes squeezing shut and fist tightening around the shaft as his hips jerk forward to meet the movement.

everything is swimming and spinning in the liquid dark around him, all the sensations coiled up into one chaotic bundle that's threatening to overwhelm him.

"yes," can't be his voice, can it? too raw, too desperate, too loud.

fist tightens even more and the throbbing is too much. feels like something is trying to get out of his body, like it's going to burst through his skin.

"oh fuck. oh fuck, oh fuck—"

everything is happening at once. everything is mounting to a small cry of her name.

he comes. coughs and huffs, head tipping back and hand still pumping. there's a low groan coming from his chest that sounds like it originated from some other person entirely.

then, it stills. his back hits the bed and he tries to gulp down air that stutters down his throat, the phone bouncing on the mattress beside him. the motions ripple in his spine, in tensed muscles that’ve gone lax. calm. outside the window, a siren howls first, then a dog.

he’s spent. feels good. cold air bites skin coated in sweat, like ice melting in the bed of a warm palm. “fuck.”

but the reality of the situation rips through the haze just as quick, and ignited by a sudden fucking unbearable anger, he grabs his phone and throws it across the room, “FUCK.”

ch.4: normal people

tags <3 @rexorangecouny - @astridyoo15 - @elliesbabygirl - @fortisfilia - @diorrfairy - @frequentnosebleeder - @eddiemunsonreader

more notes: sum fun lil gemmie gems for my narrative lovin girlies in chat 1. timeline is worky asf, things flowing in an out perception - imagine it like moving frames of the show 2. carmy says “’s good” whilst he admires her silently - is he referring to her or the food? 3. who text their boss at 1am? rich kid explain 4. the swearing increases the more he’s distressed 5. major virgin alert, can u tell? 6. this is the only chapter so far where ive used caps lock

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader #we need the extended version directors cut live commentary with bloopers for the second half of this fic

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forthelostones · 6 months

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𝚙𝚝.𝚘𝚗𝚎 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby (eventually), mini slowburn, suggestive language, jealousy, nora & mel ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parental death, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: hi everyone, waaaa thanks for all the follows! i appreciate you all sooo soo much. this is something i just thought of idk, maybe a series who knows! i am thinking abt putting this on ao3 too!

(no y/n)

wc: 2.4k

The noise you dreaded hearing the most pulled at your heart, jolting you wide awake at 4:45 a.m. You roll over to the screaming phone and detonate your alarm for clinical. Not even one minute later you get a message from your neighbor, Abby, who is also your classmate.

Anderson: Rise and shine Dummy.

In the final year of your nursing program, every day became harder. You feel your body morph back into the cavernous mark you left in the mattress, so warm, you could just… You let your heart settle before you toss your feet off the edge of your mattress, tuck your feet into your slippers, and head to the bathroom. You couldn’t risk the temptation of laying back in bed. On clinical days you were the most nervous but it felt real, like what you had been working towards was actually obtainable. These days were also the longest, so mentally preparing for that was a large part of your success.

You slip your legs into your light blue scrubs and grab your backpack that was heavy with supplies. Flickering all the lights off and then slipping into your shoes you open the door to find Abby in the corridor at 5:20, ready to head out. You pull your hand over your hair in an attempt to parry any imperfections you might’ve missed in the mirror. She had her keys laced in between her fingers, peering down at her watch. Her scrubs were pressed and well-fitted, hugging her thighs comfortably and falling just above her ankle. Her arms bulged out of the cap-sleeved top complimented with a slick back bun, and her badge attached at the hip, perfectly placed. Meanwhile, you were struggling to find clean scrubs this morning, do your hair, and search for your badge floating in the mess called your backpack.

“Ready?” She muttered.

You just nodded your head with your eyes fluttering, fighting off any lingering sleep.

Ever since freshman year, you have been deeply inspired by Abby. She always aced her tests and made it her mission to become a real nursing student. Which sometimes meant taking on more than she could chew. In one of your entry levels, sophomore term, you became her patient — or dummy — for the year. Your professor explained the patient's situation and you sat limply, very anxious.

“Anderson, go ‘head.” Your professor spat.

“Hello, I’m Nurse Anderson, I’m here to take some vitals.”

You just nodded your head as her large hands reached for her stethoscope, heading towards your back.

“Come on you need to be a better dummy than that.” Your professor said.

Her comment made Abby break character and laugh, since then, you’ve been her Dummy.

You settled into the passenger seat, letting the familiar scent of pine infiltrate your senses. On clinical days Abby insisted on driving you both to the sites. Abby was meticulous about everything and you noticed that early on. Her car was in pristine condition, even though it wasn’t very new. There was no trash or any misplaced items, it was faultless, and it baffled you how she kept up with life and school.

“Wanna review notes?” She suggested.

“No, I didn��t get any sleep last night I was studying for Pharma. Didn’t finish the midterm study guide we made until 1 a.m.”

“Shit. Today’s gonna be rough for you.” She said, pushing the button to start the car and turning the heat on, which made you sleepier. The sun wasn’t even peaking out yet, and you cuddled up to the window listening to Abby mutter off terminology that turned into nothingness as you fell into a sleepy abyss.

“Dummy. Hey, we’re here.” She said tapping your thigh.

You had really fallen asleep and were embarrassed at how deeply and easily it happened. The sun was dull in the sky and you shuddered at the cool air as you opened the door.

The NICU was peaceful. A few of your classmates were cooing over the babies with the instructor, while Abby was observing and taking notes while they were talking.

“Sorry, another question —" she’d probed, with her iPad in hand. Watching her scribble small annotations and pictures distracted you. Her brows would dip into each other, mentally absorbing every small detail, you just stared at her until she caught you.

“You’re staring again.” She’s said many-a-times.

“Anderson, can you send me your notes after?” Mel asked as we packed up our book bags to head out of the hospital. Of course, Abby obliged, even though she and Mel were coveted enemies, she would photo-copy them and email her notes anyway.

“I don’t know why you even entertain her.” You whispered.

“I feel bad, she’s struggling, least I can do is help her out.” She shrugged.

Back at your apartment building Abby invited you to her to drink a little, and you couldn’t say no. Due to the fact that you lived next to each other and that Abby was introverted, you were one of her few friends. But then again you didn’t know much about her outside of being classmates. You changed into sweats and then walked into Abby wearing a tank top and grey shorts. The white, ribbed fabric clung perfectly to her chest, exposing the outlines of her upper body, hugging the cusps of her breasts. Which made you lock your eyes sweetly onto her without fault. She had set out two glasses and brought a bottle of wine to the coffee table in front of the TV.

Her apartment was cozy, the temperature was perfect, it always smelled nice, and the warm lighting was inviting. You sigh as you join her on the couch, it felt good to sit down, not to mention on something other than your shitty couch. She grinned as she handed you the glass.

“Now what’s this?” You smirk.

“Just Prosecco, to start.”

You both keep eye contact as you take the first sips. Her lips perched onto the edge of the glass and while she was staring into your eyes, they drifted slightly downwards to the pinky pillows on her face. She raised her eyebrows and peered into her glass with a nod of approval.

“I think today went well, I wouldn’t mind —"

“No school talk.” You interject.

“Oh, so now you wanna be like friends?” She smirked.

“I mean…” You trail.

She shrugged as she took another sip. “It’s not. I’m pretty boring.”

“Come on, talk to me.”

She was pressed into the opposite corner of the couch, but you felt inclined to lean in more and inch closer to her body. She tucked her leg under herself, so you really saw the stretch of her willpower. Her quads leading up to her thighs were sucking you in like a lazy river guiding you to her estuary.

“Well, I hit a new number at the gym.”

“Is that why you’re wearing this little number tonight?”

Her face turns pink as she turns her head away in guilt. You watched her break into a nervous laugh pressing her lips together tightly.

“What’s the point if I can’t gloat?”

You both share a silence for a moment before she composes herself as she feels the heat of your eyes on her. Your vision trailed from her thighs back to her warm eyes. Her fingers turn white while she pinches the stem of the glass.

“You make it hard to look away, so I don’t blame you.”

“See, I told you I’m boring.” She said ignoring your comment.

“I guess I’m curious to see what goes on in that brain of yours. How can you be so put together and still be sane while everyone else is drowning? I admire you so much but I think you’re fucking crazy.”

She reaches up to her scalp to remove the ponytail holder that held back her blonde locks. Her hair falls just above her chest in a long bob, perfectly cut, not a wrinkle from the hair band anywhere.

“My dad was a surgeon so I guess I became familiar with his lifestyle while growing up. He was crazier than me, super detailed, borderline obsessive,” She glanced toward the ground. “He’s the reason I’m here.”

“Is he still working or did he retire.”

She dipped her head down and sipped the last dribbles of her wine, “He passed away a while ago. Just before I came to university.”

“Abs, sorry.”

You didn’t have the right words, no one ever did with that type of thing.

“Ah, it’s fine. So, I just bought this new mezcal, I’ll be right back.”

She ran to the kitchen and brought shot glasses.

“So you want me tipsy or what?”

“Just enjoy this with me?”

Her request was soft and inviting, how could you even think of saying no. She poured more alcohol into the small glasses, “Come here.” she demanded.

Her command made the pit of your stomach wobble. She took her right arm and looped it with yours, pulling you into her. You didn’t realize it but your heart was beating faster than its resting rate. Her skin was so warm and her hair smelled like honey, her bicep was curling against yours and suddenly you realized your lack of muscle. She lifted the glass to her lips and you followed, not breaking eye contact, her arm tightened, pulling you upwards slightly. She took the shot like a fucking champ. You pull away gasping.

“So smooth.” She teased.

“Sure.” You gagged.

She tucked a strand behind her ear and licked her lips, looking at you fight a fire. She gets a notification on her watch and instantly breaks the tension. You see her eyes light up and a smile creeps up as she reaches for her phone and begins pecking at the screen. You didn’t understand but you felt slightly jealous of whoever was interrupting your night.

“Who’s thattt.” You say in a sing-song voice.

“What? No one, it’s just a friend.”

“The fact that you told me it was a friend tells me…”

“Fine. It’s Nora, remember from freshman bio?”

“The TA? What? How didn’t I know any of this?”

“No, because it’s nothing. She’s in grad school, we rekindled recently — I don’t know it was random.”

“Abby, you are literally blushing.”

It was true, her skin had turned to the likes of a strawberry. She looked up to you and shoved you in a playful way, slightly embarrassed. You shove her back and she tosses her phone and retaliates. In one swift moment in between the laughter, she pinned you down on the couch cushions. You look up at her, hair flowing into your face, her straddling your legs, and an unwavering smile. Her phone dings with another message which she ignores and it makes you stifle your breathing.

“You should get that.” You whisper. “And why is that?” She tilts her head playfully.

She stumped you, no smart rebuttal this time. Another notification slides through and she finally releases you from her grasp. She runs her hand through her hair and reads the messages slightly biting her lip.

“Well what did she say, come on.” You say leaning over to which she pulls away.

“No! I, okay. You. Okay. Okay okay.”

She looked and sounded like a teenager nervous about a pending text.

“So, context, I told her I was unwinding you know after clinical… So, she said ‘ah, the best. how do you unwind’ right? So I just said, drinking a little, letting my body settle in, you know comfy — being comfy. She said ‘maybe I can help?” Like okay, that means… what I think right. Anyway, I said, how can you help? She said ‘tell me what you have on and I can assess the situation.’”

You sat taken aback at her brute honesty.

“So.”

“She’s flirting, isn’t she?” Her eyes sunk at this discovery.

“Indeed she is.”

You felt a sense of betrayal, fucking Nora, you thought.

“Help, what do I say. You know better than me.” She admitted.

“I am so honored you want my help. Say it again.” You scooch closer.

She refused. “You know what never-mind.”

“Abbbbyyy, say it.”

A minute passes before she finally gives in. “You know better than me.”

Suddenly you became an expert for Anderson.

“Let me see your phone.”

She was hesitant but finally handed it over. You type a possible reply with her looking over your shoulder.

“What? I’m not wearing a lacey thong.”

A bit of you wished she was.

“Abby, it doesn’t have to be true.”

“Yes okay. Red thong. Send it. No-no, just say nothing. I mean that’s more realistic right, oh add that I just got out the shower.”

She replied instantly.

Naked, just for me?

“Why would she say it like that?” Her face turned sour.

Not for you, just me and my eyes only, you reply.

“Okay, I like that.”

When can I see you?

Abby took her phone back and turned it off while you two shared loud laughs.

“Fuck, I am not good at this flirting stuff.” She groaned.

“So, I finally found what you’re not good at, huh?”

She flicked her eyes up at you and away, she was hiding something, a secret.

“Abigail…” you trail.

“What.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“Have you ever been with someone before?”

Deep down you knew the answer. Her ability to not get wrapped up in bullshit led to her hyper-focus on life and not the fun parts.

“I mean, describe with.” She said going back to the fridge.

“Had sex with, made out with, also just dated.”

She brought back two bottles of cider, her lips already pressed to one. You grab yours by the neck patiently awaiting her answer. She just sips her cider.

“Abby,” you say theatrically. “What is it, no one has tickled your fancy or maybe you’re too much of a workaholic to prioritize your needs.”

Her mouth fell open slightly. “The second one. I’ve gotten there but something always felt off.”

Hearing Abby talk about sex made you giggle, she couldn’t even mutter the word. Your mind swarmed with all the stuff you could teach her, the positions you could put her in, and the way you would make her feel.

“Hmmhm.”

“Wait, what the fuck does that mean.”

“What?”

“Hmmhm.” She mocks.

“It’s nothing, right now it means I should go, we have Pharma remember. This has been fun,” you stand. “Good night Anderson.”

You reach out to nip her chin with your cold hand and in that moment when peered at you through those thick lashes you could melt.

“Good night, Dummy.” She smiled goofily.

#abby x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #sub abby #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou abby #abby anderson #abby smut

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freshbakedbreadstick · 10 months

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No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter One

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: You finally grab the bear by its ears and face it head on, despite all the unanswered questions.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of self harm, grief, death, mental health issues, strained relationships, smoking.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: OMG thank you all for all the kind words and love ! ! ! I'm gonna b honest with you all, after i posted the prologue I completely logged out of my account for the week LOL I was SO nervous abt it and so I just left it alone 😭 but I'm back with the first official chapter ! Also, I am opening the taglist for this series, so please let me know if you want to be tagged ! Thank you to one of you lovely readers for asking about that ❤️ your comment was very appreciate bc tbh I completely forgot abt even considering making one 💀 thank u babes ily and I hope you all enjoy !!!

Taglist: @marysucks-blog

PROLOGUE / MASTERLIST

The rumble and honk of a car driving quickly down the street took you out of your thoughts.

Here you were, once again, on the sidewalk and across the street from The Beef. This time, it was not some odd hour of the night but rather 4 o'clock in the evening.

After tossing and turning all night long, you rose early that morning much to the insistence of your mom and dad, who were very much eager to get you to reunite with Natalie, with bags under your eyes and stiff joints. You trudged around the house, jumping at every small noise that somewhat resembled the notification sound of your phone, before finally giving up and plopping down on the sofa to send Sugar a text.

'Hi Sugar, it's me. Nice to talk to you again. I'll swing by The Beef at around 4 if that's okay with you.'

About 5 minutes later, a loud buzz made you drop a glass of water to the floor.

'Of course! I'm so happy to hear from you! I can't wait (:'

You could feel a pit forming in your stomach as you read the message. You can practically hear the way her voice lifts in excitement as you read it. To make matters worse, the smiley face felt like it had a mind of its own and it was taunting you. It practically said 'Remember the good days? Remember how close you and Sugar were? Before everything happened?'

With a shallow breath, you threw your phone onto the nearest soft surface and scooped the broken glass up with your bare hands.

Your parents fussed around you all afternoon before you left. At first, they said it was to make sure you were okay with going over there but it became pretty clear that they were pretty much just making sure you weren't going to back out. While you understood why they were chasing you around like a chick chased their mother hen, you got tired of it really quickly.

"Mom, I'm serious, I'm okay!" You insisted, pulling your shoe on and pausing at the threshold of the front door.

"Are you sure? Do you want us to come with you? How about you let us drive you-"

"I'm fine!! I'm going now!"

With a sigh, your mother glances at your father before nodding, "Alright honey, be safe."

With a weak smile, you headed off.

And now here you were, finding yourself halfway down the street and being honked at by someone in their car.

Snapping back to the present after replaying your hectic morning, you jump at the realization that you were unconsciously halfway across the street and heading towards The Beef.

"GET OUT THE WAY!" The person in the car yelled, sticking their head out the window.

You ran to the sidewalk and half slammed your body against the wall, chest heaving. You had no idea what took over you and made you move without thinking but here you are now, in front of the same place you vowed to never be at again after Mikey's death: The Beef.

"Fuck…" you murmured to yourself, trying desperately to catch your breath as you closed your eyes.

Focusing on the sounds of tires on pavement and rustling leaves on trees, you took a breath. You counted from 1 to 100 and then back to 1 again. You then opened your eyes and counted 5 things you could see, 4 things you could touch…

With a hard swallow, you turned around, ready to walk to the front door now. It was past 4 now but from the messages you got earlier from Sugar, you knew that there was 'no rush' and to just 'come in the front door'.

"I can do this, I can do this…" you whispered to yourself and lightly jumped in place, hyping yourself up.

You pushed forward, rounding the corner of the wall and to the front door, when BAM! Some guy just slams into you.

You fly backward, stumbling as you try your hardest to avoid falling onto the pavement.

"Watch it, idiot!" Some guy in a high vis vest barks at you before marching away with a wrapped sandwich in his hand.

You stare, mouth open in silent shock and confusion, unable to respond. If this guy had bumped into you about a year ago, you would have practically beat him up yourself. Mikey would've had to come out of the restaurant and drag you off the guy, laughing and cheering all the way. His strong arms would wrap around you and somehow lift you up and off, voice husky in your ear as he alternates between voicing good humored apologies to the guy who had the misfortune of being an asshole to you and murmuring about how hot you looked while you defended yourself.

But in this moment, all you could do was regain the little confidence you had and go back to the task at hand: walking in.

You swallow before standing up straight, plastering on a faux confident but cool grin onto your face. With your head held high in a way that you used to do but doesn't feel like you anymore, you jam a fist into your pocket and use your other free hand to push the front door open and waltz in.

Cooly, you scan the empty restaurant. It seems like the lunch rush was very much over by now and the last customer for a while before the dinner rush had crashed into you and left moments before. So now, it was just you and The Beef.

"Give me one sec!" A loud and charmingly obnoxious voice yelled from the kitchen.

Your facade slipped as you heard this voice. Instantly, your shoulders sagged as you let out a quiet but pained laugh under your breath.

The booming voice of Richie got louder and louder as he came out of the kitchen and to the counter, "How can I help you-"

He paused. You immediately stood up straight again, a wide and sly but fake grin spreading over your face.

Richie blinked, frozen. His eyes were wide and mouth had dropped slightly open.

After a couple seconds, the awkwardness started to set in for you, prompting you to speak up, "Jesus, Richie, you look like you've seen a ghost."

In an instant, Richie snapped back to reality with a grin on his face, "COUSIN!"

You winced at the volume, apparently not being the only one as you heard a couple muffled groans and protests from the kitchen as well as someone saying "what?!"

Richie threw his arms out, wide, before dropping them and racing around the counter to you. With a laugh, Richie's arms enveloped you, squeezing tight.

You stiffened up immediately, feeling bad for not reciprocating instantly like you used to do. But whether or not that bothered Richie, you would never know because as fast as he enveloped you in a hug, he pulled away.

"Cousin, what the hell are you doing this side of the country, huh?!" He grinned and placed his hands on his hips.

"Oh my gosh!" Another voice said.

Your head whipped to see Sugar at the doorway to the kitchen. She clutched a clipboard in her arms but as both of your eyes connected, she let it fall to the floor with a clatter.

You can see her eyes well with tears as she raced around the counter to join you and Richie and as she got closer, she blinked them away. A wary smile appeared on her lips as she stood next to you, making her look a cross between nervous and relieved.

"Richie, give her some space. Oh my gosh, hi!!" Natalie gasped.

You winced a bit and smiled, "Hey…"

You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and stay there forever.

"Shit cousin, I had no idea you were coming here! If you let us know beforehand, we could've made you a welcome party or, or, or something!" Richie said, ignoring Natalie.

"How the hell have you been? How was it out west? I heard you got back in town but had no clue you were coming over here to visit!" Richie continued, going on and on and on.

You stared at him, eyeing the way he looked rugged and much more tired than usual. But Richie was the same old Richie, loud and brash but caring when he wanted to be.

Your eyes wandered from Richie's frame over to Natalie, who seemed to be analyzing your body silently. Her eyes were filled with worry and her fingers rapidly intertwined with themselves as she gave you a look that meant to say, 'Is this okay? Are you okay?'

You glance back at Richie before your eyes fell behind the two and to the entrance of the kitchen where a crowd had formed.

And in front of that crowd was Carmy.

Your shoulders tensed up, visibly enough to make Natalie perk up and whip her head around to see what you were staring at and make Richie go silent. The two glanced at Carmy and, unbeknownst to you, gave him a look of warning.

Carmy wiped his hands on the towel he had and stared back, silent. His body language was unreadable and you couldn't tell whether or not he was upset at seeing you. Either way, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand.

"Carmy…" you said, voice hoarse.

You cleared your throat and awkwardly nodded, acknowledging those around him. You recognized a couple faces and others seemed unfamiliar but either way, they all looked at you with curious and cautious eyes.

After stewing in silence for a bit, Sugar spoke up, "Carmy… say hello".

Carmy blinked, eyes still set on you making you feel pinned to the spot. You could feel your breakfast swirl in your stomach as his eyes glared into you, analyzing your every move. Finally, he nodded and turned around, making the crowd behind him part like the red sea as he moved back into the kitchen.

Suddenly, another face appeared in the doorway of the kitchen before yelling out your name excitedly. Fak came racing out of the kitchen, following the same path that Richie and Natalie took, before stopping in front of you.

"Holy shit!," he exclaimed happily, "Your home!"

Your shoulder sagged.

Home.

You were home.

He giggled to himself, not at all noticing your reaction "I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?"

"Jesus man, give her some space she just arrived," Richie began, already launching into an argument.

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine!" Fak said, head snapping over to Richie before the two began to bicker.

Natalie rolled her eyes at them and turned to you, still concerned, "Just ignore them. Are you okay, sweetie?"

You stood up straight again, wiping the wide eyed expression you didn't even know you had on your face for one with a lazy smile, "Yea, I'm okay."

She reached her arm out, hesitating for a second to see if you would reject her, before resting her hand on your forearm when you seemed okay with it. She gently ushered you around the bickering men and behind the counter, to the kitchen. The crowd watching dispersed with curious eyes and kind smiles from those you recognized, letting you two pass through.

As you walked through the kitchen, gulping as your eyes retraced each corner and crevice you had tried to forget about, your eyes stopped briefly to look at Carmy. With his back towards you, he silently chopped some vegetables, seemingly ignoring what was happening around him.

"Here we are," Sugar said, quietly announcing to you to get your attention.

You turned and dug your heels into the ground, soles squeaking as you did so. Sugar jumped back and glanced at you.

"Can we… I'd rather we talk outside." You announce, voice wavering in a way that made your previous confident persona waver.

Right in front of you stood the door to the office; an office you were very much familiar with as you too had spent many times there. All those memories, all bittersweet at this point, came rushing back; the nights you spent arguing over bills and paperwork with Mikey, the days you came with a bag of donuts from your favorite shop nearby, the intimate moments where your and his lips connected behind the closed door, the moments in which you hid in the office and cried your heart out.

Sugar noticed the way your eyes had become misty and promptly led you to the back door of the kitchen and to the alleyway.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that's okay. We can talk here.” she said soothingly.

Her voice was so comforting, making you feel nauseous. You hated the way that Sugar would always act very motherly, even when you were all kids.

With a shaky breath, you nodded and smiled anxiously, “I'm okay Sugar, you don’t need to worry.”

Glancing at you, Sugar smiled softly. But her smile quickly dropped when she scanned your features, taking in your face again.

“You look,” she began quietly, “You look good.”

You chuckled to yourself, knowing damn well that she was wrong, “Thanks, you too.”

Richie bursts out the back door, with Fak in town, still bickering.

“My God you two, just stop!” Sugar yells, getting the two to finally snap their mouths shut.

Fak playfully salutes Sugar, a knowing look on his face while Richie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Yea whatever. I’m just happy to see you again, cousin.” Richie says, directing his body to you, with a tone of softness in his voice that felt so foreign that it made you shiver.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said softly, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

It was silent for a bit as the four of you all glanced at one another, unsure where to start and what to say. Each party had so much they wanted to say to each other at that moment, but you knew that the three people standing before you had the most to say to you.

Carmy came out the back door, silent and unsurprised to see the four of you glance in his direction. He closed the door behind him and stood off to the side, away from all of you. He then proceeded to take out a pack and light a cigarette, quietly puffing.

“Cousin, did you even say hello? It’s rude as hell to just ignore her,” Richie said, a bit agitated at his dismissive behavior.

Yet Carmy ignored him, staring out to the side and away from you all, his blue eyes flickering, but refusing to even glance in your direction.

You could feel your eyes prickle and your throat tighten, regretting even showing up. Carmy was the one person you haven't seen the longest and here he was, ignoring you as if you didn’t even exist.

“Hey,” Richie barked, taking you out of your thoughts, “At least look at her!”

Richie began to stomp forward to Carmy, making you and Sugar flinch as you watched. Fak moved forward, reaching out to Richie and mumbling quietly to get him to stop. Right before Richie could grab Carmy by the shoulder, Carmy spoke up.

“I’m glad you're okay.”

Your mouth dried up.

His eyes turned to you and all you could see in them was pained understanding. He knew you weren’t okay; an okay person wouldn’t just pack up and leave the night after her boyfriend’s funeral. But, he saw that you were alive and the fact that you showed up here after so long meant something.

It meant that now you were okay.

“Thanks Carmy” you said, making everyone’s head turn to you.

Richie rocked his jaw and nodded silently, stepping back from Carmy.

The three of them watched as Carmy lifted his box of cigarettes and offered one to you. They then watched as you walked forward, arms that had wrapped around your body falling, to grab one. He fished his worn lighter from his pocket, carefully lighting the cig you held around your lips for you, before pocketing it and leaning back against the wall.

You take a deep drag, letting the nicotine smoke fill your lungs before exhaling. It soothed your nerves, reminding you of the moments that you spent outside with Carmy, avoiding the yells from inside the house during a Berzatto family event.

Suddenly, a deep funny feeling began to strew about in your belly. It felt odd and you tried to suppress it, but you just couldn’t help it. You barked out a laugh.

It surprised you and everyone, not at all expecting it. You felt your cheeks heat up, horrified as to why you just laughed.

You breathed in, only for it to come out as another laugh. Your horror was then replaced with amusement, making you laugh even harder.

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all averted their gazes, a mixture of remorse and shame written all over their faces.

You laughed even harder, slamming your back against the wall before sliding into a crouch. Your body shook so hard as you laughed, barely able to keep the cigarette between your fingers.

Carmy looked away, an empty look on his face as he too chuckled to himself.

After laughing so much that your belly began to hurt, you finally spoke up between dissolving giggles, “What the fuck am i even doing here!?”

Natalie turned her back to everyone, clutching her body in her arms. Fak walked forward and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even look at him as he hooked one of his arms under your arm and helped you up from the floor to stand against the wall again. Your knees buckled slightly as you continued giggling and wheezing in an attempt to catch your breath.

Fak stepped back and sighed softly, watching your chest heave as your breathing began to stabilize.

An uncomfortable silence fell as you caught your breath, leaving the four of you in limbo to listen to a couple cars pass by and the wind blow softly by.

Carmy straightened up, making everyone except Sugar turn to him. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking and crushed it under his shoe. He then reached behind him to untie the knot of his apron and then moved to his neck where he took it off completely. He thrusted it forward, pushing it to you.

“Okay Chef, break is over.” He said.

You looked over at him, finding no fear or sadness on his face, before nodding and grabbing the apron. He stepped back and turned, moving to open the back door and step inside.

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all turned to you.

“Break is over,” you repeated and began to tie the apron around yourself before opening the backdoor and walking back inside.

#the bear #carmen berzatto #reader #carmen berzatto x reader #michael berzatto x reader #mikey berzatto #carmy berzatto #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #carmy the bear #richie the bear #mikey the bear #carmy berzatto imagine #richie berzatto imagine #mikey berzatto imagine #sugar berzatto #natalie berzatto #neil fak

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dachher · 1 year

Note

Can u write abt reader and boyfriend gavi having a fight and he kicks her out of his house so she goes to pedri and he comforts her plssssd

useless

paring: pablo gavi x fem!reader, pedri gonzalez x fem!reader(platonic)

summary: angry gavi saying too much

words: 409

warnings: angst.

a/n: i am having baby fever lately, so you might expect baby fics🥹

masterlist

gavi was known from his anger. he was just angry teenager. not only when he was getting fouled on field.

today pablo just wake up with shit humour. he was pointing you your every mistake looking for fight.

first you did him breakfast.

“you gave too much salt.” he grunted not even looking at you.

then you were doing your daily makeup.

“you’re going somewhere?” he asks harshly walking to the bathroom without even knocking to the door.

“no, why?” you were putting your lipstick on as he was staring at you through the mirror.

“because you are again sitting in bathroom doing your makeup, trying to hide all your imperfections.” as he said that you look at him with wide open eyes don’t believing that he just said that.

and you were thinking that everything was normal again till 9 pm.

you were sitting on couch watching new episodes of your favourite show.

“you know were is my training kit?” you heard from behind you.

“it’s probably in laundry.”

“what? i need it. why are you always sitting on couch. you should do something useful like dinner or laundry!” he yelled at you angry.

“i am not you housewife!” you snap back at him standing now in front of him.

“oh i can’t stand you! you are not doing anything in this home any more! you are so useless!” tears were forming in your eyes as you heard that. “yeah, now go cry about it.”

you go past him wearing your boots and hoodie.

“where are you going? it’s already dark?”

“i am useless. so i’m out of here.” you said as you left with only your phone.

you didn’t really know were to go. tears were falling down on your face ruining your makeup.

after twenty minutes of walk you find yourself standing in front of pedri’s house.

he was yours and pablo’s mutual friend so it wasn’t probably a good idea but you were looking like a mess and you were so cold and you could feel raindrops falling on your face.

you quickly knocked to his door, now being soaked with water.

minute later you saw shocked pedri standing in front of you. he pulled you into his house.

“what happened?” he asked caring.

ten minutes later you were sitting on couch in his living room in his clothes and with tea in your hands.

#football imagine #gavi #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x reader #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine #pedri x reader

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tojisbbygworl · 10 months

Text

Just For The Night - Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader pt. 1

Summary: Two anarchists meet at a concert and decide that one night just isn't enough...but one night is all they have.

Characters: Mentioned - Gwen, Pavtir, Miguel. Featured - Miles, Hobie

Words: 3,694

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Mutual Pining, Suggestive Content (Smut in part 2), Hobie is Whipped, Aged-Up Characters (Miles/Gwen is 17), Reader and Hobie are 21+, Mention of Marijuana, Canon Divergence (Doesn't follow ATSV events/Miles is not an anomaly/Hobie's universe is present day instead of 1978), Hobie and Miles are like brothers, I tried my best with the British slang

author's note: The Hobie brainrot is real. I wasn't planning on writing for ATSV at all, but some of the fanfictions just weren't scratching the itch and you have to be the change you want to see in the world and all that other shit. I don't think that Miles would listen to Rico Nasty, but I definitely think Hobie would. I had to write something putting the two together like it just makes SENSE TO ME!

You don’t have to listen to the music at all I’m not even sure if I want to keep it in there. Anyway, here's the story. More notes abt me at the end.

AO3 version part 2 epilogue

"You tryna' go to this concert with me?"

Hobie stopped playing with his guitar pick to look Miles in the eyes. The day was over, for them at least. Miguel was satisfied with their work and they didn't have to deal with him until it was time to be called back into action. Gwen had already gone back home, something about her band, and Pav wasn't on the schedule for today. It was one of the only times where Miles and Hobie could really work as partners and they cherished it.

Miles was especially glad to have Hobie all to himself, as he felt this question would be a bit more awkward around the others. He waited until they were grabbing something to eat in the food court so he was sure anyone who would overhear his question couldn't. He had always been a fan of this artist, but never really embraced it in fear of embarrassment or rejection.

"Who's playin'?" Hobie asked him, already knowing he was going to say yes no matter what Miles said. He saw him as a little brother, and he was happy that he wanted to spend time together outside of work.

"Her name is Rico Nasty." Hobie raised a brow. Either this artist is only popular in America, or he didn't have her in his own universe. He had never heard of her before.

"Oh? Who's that?" Miles lit up like a fire, excited to show Hobie something new. He hoped to whoever was listening that he would enjoy her.

To say that seeing Hobie begin to head bop with his headphones in filled Miles with joy was an understatement. As the song continued, He began making a stank face and looked at him. He was enjoying himself, clearly, and Miles knew he had him hooked.

When the song ended, Hobie took out his headphones and gave Miles his phone back. "Yeah, I'll go with you."

Miles throws a small celebration. He pumps his fist and says "Yes!" dancing for a second before stopping and clearing his throat. He turns back around to see Hobie looking at him amused.

"Am I the only one going?" He asks him, biting into a burger.

Miles sits back down across him and sighs. He looks down at the table. "Yeah," he says, dejected. Hobie gives him a worried look, which Miles is quick to dismiss. "Oh, no! It's nothing bad. I just...I don't really know anyone else who would come with me and it seemed like music you would like..." He trails off for a minute. Hobie urges him on by gesturing his hand. "And I kind of wanted an actual adult with me because I'm really nervous and kind of scared and I needed someone I could trust completely. You fit all the criteria."

Hearing that made Hobie insanely happy. He gives Miles a sideways smile. "That warms me up inside, you know that?"

Miles lets out a small, breathy, laugh. "Yeah, yeah."

"So," Hobie wipes his hands with each other and takes a sip of his drink. "What's the scene gonna be like?"

"Well...you, really. Your whole aesthetic."

Hobie raises a brow. "Oh yeah?"

As a connoisseur of moshing, in Hobie's opinion, the venue was perfect. Big enough to fit scores of people, too small to have any personal space.

It was completely painted black with a black floor as well. Purple, green, and red stage lights shone over the thickening crowd. It was already so hot, a stark contrast from the chilly Brooklyn night air.

That day, Miles had visited Hobie's apartment to get dressed. Hobie gave him loads of clothes and accessories to choose from. Miles, unfortunately, had no sense of style, and everything he chose clashed with each other. Hobie had to completely dress him from head to toe. "You look like a proper rebel without a cause," Hobie had told him, which Miles took as a good thing.

Miles took one look at the bartending stand, gave Hobie a stupid smile, and as funny as it was, he shot him down immediately. "Uh-Uh. 'low it."

It was 7:30. The concert didn't officially start for another 30 minutes, and Rico wasn't going to come out for an hour after that. Miles was taking everything in. He had a look of wonder in his eyes. Hobie found it amusing. Him and Miles have been friends for some time now, but he’s never seen him this relaxed.

“You didn’t think about bringing Gwendy here?” Hobie asked him. Gwen should see this part of her boo thing. (They still haven’t made anything official).

Miles hisses and scratches the back of his head. “Eh…nah man. I’m still nervous about showing this side of me to people. You’re the only person I’m confident enough to show it off to.”

Miles’s sweet words brought a genuine smile to Hobie’s face, and he smiled back. Hobie wrapped his arm around him and rubbed his head. They continue talking as the venue fills more and more and people gather behind him. Soon, it’s hard to move around and the two boys finally notice how packed the floor has become. Miles begins to look a little nervous, but looks up at how chill Hobie is and adjusts himself accordingly.

When he’s done trying to look cool he taps Hobie on his arm. The man looks down at him in curiosity. “Hey, so…what’s your situation?”

“What do you mean?”

Miles makes a fist and punches his palm. “I mean, do you got a girl, bro?”

Hobie scoffs and laughs at his question. “Nah, man. My Gwen Stacy is a capitalist pig. And I don’t know a Mary Jane.”

“Maybe you can have the Gwen from my universe.” Mike’s jokes. Hobie laughs and punches his arm.

“Sorry mate, but if she’s anything like others, I don’t want her." He gets a far off look in his face, and Miles's grin straightens out. "It’s like in every universe, she’s a "good" girl.” Hobie explains his thought process. Miles is greatly interested in what he has to say. Hobie looks up and speaks as if this is something he’s put a lot of thought into. “My person needs to have my ideals. I want her to be loud and obnoxiously motivated. Like me.” He says the last part with a grin. Miles shook his head.

“So you want an anarchist?”

Hobie shrugs. “If she’s not a felon she’s not for me.” They laugh with each other until the opening DJ comes out. It was 8:00 and the concert was starting. He played some popular mainstream music that Hobie wouldn’t otherwise listen to. But Miles had started rapping 21 Savage with some other teenagers around him and he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Hobie easily towered over the crowd, so he took a moment to take it all in. In his opinion, he had the best spot on the floor. Right in the middle. He could see everything. Everyone had on some form of punk-like, gothic, or emo styling. He saw many spikes, chains, and buckles. So many creative hairstyles and outfit choices. He truthfully felt that he was in his element. It was nice.

Oh! Es-pecially the fine thing standing right in front of him.

Well, he assumed that she looked good. He was absolutely digging her hair. She had large Bantu Knots going across her head. It was was a nice Cajun Spice color. This hair definitely takes the cake for him.

His eyes trail down her body to look at her outfit. She had fishnets on her legs and torso. Over the fishnets, she had on an AC/DC crop top with jagged edges that she probably cut herself. Her bottoms were black ripped shorts. Extremely short, they wrapped around her ass so nicely, and some of the flesh hung out of them. He couldn’t see too much of her feet, but he could guess that she’s wearing Demonias. He really wanted to see the front of her choker.

She was moving to the music and shaking her hips to the beat of ‘The Boy’s a Liar.” It was a cute song in his opinion, and her dance was just as adorable. But it was dangerous how the plush of her ass moved in those shorts.

Her friend who was dancing beside her accidentally backed into him. She turned to apologize and Hobie gave her a nod and a “you’re good,” then went right back to staring at Bantu Knots. The girl peeped him, and she smiled and nudged her to get her attention. She whispers in her ear, then turns back around completely.

When Hobie makes eye contact with Bantu Knots, his heart feels like it’s slowing down. Then, immediately, it runs. She had big brown eyes and the cutest ring on her round nose. Her makeup wasn’t much, but she still looked stunning. She clearly had on foundation, concealer and some sort of powder. She had long false lashes on, sharp wings, and black glossy lips. On the flush of her cheek, there was a small black heart drawn with eyeliner. She was gorgeous.

He was mesmerized, it was like his body did the work for him when he nodded and smirked at her. She gave him a sideways smile back, looked him up and down, then turned back around. The whistle that Hobie let out was long and smooth. Miles nudges him in the arm having been witness to the whole thing. Hobie grins.

He takes another chance to enrapture her. He taps her shoulder than leans down next to her ear. He keeps his voice low, and mutters, “I love your hair.”

He guessed she really liked that compliment, because she immediately lights up and turns around fully to look at him. The girl puts her hand on his shoulder to pull his ear towards her. A shock courses through his body when her breath hits his skin.

“I love yours, too.”

Somehow, her voice was even more breathtaking than she was. Hobie shivers. He resists the urge to ask her if she wanted to use his wicks as handle bars. Then he blinks. He has no idea where that idea came from, but he liked it.

He also liked her voice. She didn’t sound like she was local. Most spidermen in the spider society were from New York or some variation of it. He had heard his fair share of Northern American accents. Hers was more southern. Not nearly as southern as Webslinger’s though. Or, a different kind of southern.

"You’re not from around here, are you?” He asks her.

“Neither are you, mate.”

Hobie chuckled at her joke. Even though she was mocking him, it was pretty good. He decided then that he likes her and he doesn’t want to stop talking to her. He looks to his side to see Miles caught up in his own conversation with his new buddies. Good, he’s occupied.

“I don’t entirely think it’s fair that you know where I’m from and I don’t know where you’re from.” He suggest.

“I’m from Atlanta,” she answers, her deep voice relaxing him. “I moved to Brooklyn not to long ago.”

That was interesting. “Oh, really?” He wondered what might have brought her all the way up here.

She nodded. “What about you?”

Hobie rubbed his chin and quickly thought of a small lie to tell you. “I’m just visiting my bro, he invited me to this concert. I’ve never heard her music before, but I like what he showed me.”

The girl gasped as if Hobie had just told her of a terrible crime. “You've never listened to Rico before?”

Hobie shook his head. “Don’t worry, love. That’s gonna change real soon. Especially when her fans look like this.” He looked her body over and smirked.

She returns his advance with a sensual smile of her own. “Like what?”

His face doesn’t fall. “Like, bare fit.”

“What that mean?”

“It’s UK for, ‘fine as hell.’”

She continued smiling at him. They stared at each other for a second, then she spoke. “My name is Y/N.”

“Hobie.”

Before she could continue talking to him, the music starts to pick up a bit more. The playlist becomes a little more raunchy. She turns back around to dance with her friends and Hobie begins rapping along with Miles. While the music played, Hobie would occasionally catch Y/N’s eyes look at him. She was dancing really cutely, which was absolutely not the vibe of the songs that were currently playing. He could tell she wanted to really move. But, she was most likely afraid of making him uncomfortable.

Hobie had to let her know that he wants it. With all the confidence and audacity he can muster, he rubs his hand on her lower back, wrapping his fingers and palm around her waist. She turns slightly to look at him, and her eyes are full of mischief. Hobie leans over to her ear once again. Her friends are watching the scene somewhat discreetly and giggling.

“You can throw it back on me, love. I don’t mind at all.”

Apparently, that was all she needed to get absolutely loose with it. She beamed at him, caught the beat, then started dancing on him while he held her waist. Hobie’s grip is firm, but he doesn’t force their hips together, no matter how much it would turn him on. This wasn’t the first time he’s been twerked on, but he hasn’t been this into it. He grabs the other side of her hips with his other hand.

She bounces herself on him a couple times, and Hobie had never been more happy that he was wearing jeans. He doesn’t know how she would react to feeling his boner on her. However, the thought excites him. How good would it feel to just start humping into her backside? Everyone is paying attention to themselves. Would anyone even notice if he slipped his finger in between her thick thighs and underneath her shorts?

As she continues to dance on him, his imagination begins to run wilder. He doesn’t even realize how much time had passed and that the opener had already came and gone. There was a new DJ who was to introduce Rico any second now, and all Hobie could do was watch her skin bounce on his pants. There’s only a slit going from the back of her shorts to the front to cover her pussy. He assumes that she has a thong on, or he would be able to see her panties. If she just bent over a little more and stuck her ass in the air, Hobie could play with her for a little bit. And if he just angled his hips down a bit, he could pull it to the side, unzip his jeans, and just…

That would be disgusting. Fucking this random girl in the middle of a mosh pit floor. It excites him. He wonders if she likes that idea too. He doesn’t even realize that she has moved his arms completely to the front of her torso. His hands were gripping her lower stomach. She was practically grinding on him. Hobie’s mouth opened only slightly. He licked his bottom lip then bit it, not noticing the way Miles’s eyebrows lifted in shock.

At one point she looked back at him without stopping with the same bright smile on her face. Just when Hobie was about to say ‘fuck it’, the DJ begins to hype everyone up. He lets go of Y/N and looks towards the stage. The lights are going crazy. So is the crowd.

Miles is shaking his arm back and forth. “That girl was going crazy!”

Hobie slapped their hands together and bumped his chest. “Hell yeah.” He takes one more look at her back. As if she feels his eyes on her, she looked back at him. They smile and she turns around. Hobie doesn’t stop.

Miles squints his eyes. “Wait a minute, big fella.” He holds his arms out. “Whatchu thinkin’?”

Hobie shrugs, but still doesn’t stop looking at her. “I’m not thinking anything, mate.”

The crowd gets louder as one of Rico’s songs finally start playing.

“You ready?” Miles yells at him.

“Ha!” Hobie laughs and grabs Miles’s arms. “Are you? Your first time moshing, big steppa,” He shouts back.

“I’m scared as hell!”

“Don’t be! I got you!”

With that, Rico finally comes out and the crowd screams. All at once, the entire venue starts jumping. Hobie’s eardrums feel like they’re about to explode. With the way he’s moving along with his height and his firm grip over Miles’s shoulders, he feels sorry for the people behind and next to him.

The crowd isn’t pushing so much as everyone is just too filled with adrenaline to stay still. Rico herself is having a lot of fun on the stage too. Jumping up and down with everyone, screaming into the mic, feeding off the crowds amazing energy. Hobie’s really feeling it too. He hadn’t been moshing for a while, it felt good to be in his element.

As the songs change, the crowd gets more and more hype, but it isn’t until STFU when they really start moving.

Hobie doesn’t let go of Miles and pushes people around, almost falling over himself. At the same time, he makes sure to push against Y/N’s back. Everyone is screaming, pushing and throwing themselves into each other. It’s wild, hot, and exciting. It’s the most fun Hobie has had for a minute.

Y/N kept up pretty well, as if she’s true to this too. The concert goes on, and Rico begins to play her more down tempo songs. Hobie and Miles are sweating , but Miles is heaving. Hobie nudges him.

“You alright, bro?” Miles doesn’t stop heaving, but gives him a thumbs up. Hobie groans and slaps his head.

“Bro, so sorry, I completely forgot to bring some water for you. Ay listen, we can go and get some, and I’ll push us back up here, that good?” He suggests.

Miles waved him off. “Nah man,” he says exasperated. “I’m chilling.”

His new group of friends hand him a hydro flask and tells him to waterfall. Hobie thinks it’s gross, but it gets the job done. Miles looks fine again. He sighs in relief and turns back to see Y/N just vibing.

He takes the liberty to tap her shoulder and lean down into her ear. “You doing okay?” She was sweating, so was he, but she was still the most gorgeous girl in the venue.

She smiled at him thankfully and nodded. Once again, placing her hand on his shoulder she talks into his ear. “Yeah, thank you. What about you? You look just as crazy as I do.”

Hobie laughs. “How bad do I look?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t say you look bad, baby. I said you look crazy. I like it.” Hobie’s heart flutters at the pet name, her southern drawl coming out a bit. He decides then that this can’t be the only time they talk.

“How much do you like it?” Pussy Poppin’ begins to play, Y/N turns around, grabs his hands to put them around her waist and begins to dance on him again. Hobie smiles again. This time, there’s no letting of each other. His hands remain on her waist for some time. She often looks back and stares at him. He knows this girl likes him just as much as he does and if he was only back in his universe, he would have grabbed her and swung her back to his place immediately. But, he can’t leave Miles-

Where is Miles?

Hobie lets go of her and begins looking around in a panic. She becomes worried. “Are you okay?” She yells while placing her hand on his chest. Hobie is too worried to revel in her touch, but one of the boys Miles was interacting with gets his attention.

“Hey, that boy, Miles?” He starts. “He said to tell you he was feeling lightheaded so he went to his dorm.” Hobie closes his eyes and sighs in relief. But he was also upset that he had just left without a word. Then, the kid gets his attention once more. “Um, he also said good luck with your girl.”

Ah, so that’s why. That’s kind of awkward.

“Everything alright?” Y/N asks again.

Hobie’s reassuring smile relaxes her. “It’s fine. Was looking for my bro but he went home.”

That mischievous glint in her eye came back. "So you’re free?”

Hobie pauses. Was this really happening right now? Was he really this lucky? “Yeah.”

“Want to go to my place after this? I got a blunt.”

The night just keeps getting better. Hobie chased off a stupid smile and says a thankful prayer to whatever is listening. Then he realizes. It’s only gone 10:00. The concert can’t be ending for at least another hour.

“After?” Hobie debates his next move, then he grabbed her hand. Without looking away from her, he slowly brings her hand to feel his crotch. Her eyes widened. He was very turned on, he had been since she backed up on him. He rubbed her hand up and down a bit so she could feel his arousal even better. When she began squirming and rocking back and forth on her feet, Hobie's smirk grows. Her legs were clenched shut and she couldn’t take her eyes off his waist. He leans down again, his breath making her shudder. “You see what you did to me? You’re really gonna make me wait, love?”

He stares into her eyes. Hers flicker back and forth between his, and eventually to his studded lips. Hobie anticipates her answer, but from the way she began to grip his member he knows she’ll take him up on his offer.

She takes in a breath, turns to tell her friends that she’s leaving, the grabs Hobie’s arm and starts walking through the crowd.

ending a/n: That’s the end of part one to the story. How did you guys like it so far? I wanted to add a few Rico songs to get a gist of how the concert went, but I didn’t want to overload the story. I hope the suggestiveness is to y’all’s liking. I promise the nasty raunchy sex is coming next. I can’t help but to write lore for every story I write, so you, the reader, will have a little back ground story in the next part. Just a couple of heads up, it will be a little bit angsty towards the end, and involve having sex while under the influence. They’ll be smoking while they’re fucking, basically.

about the author: I do not write for this fandom, this will be my first and probably only story involving spiderverse. I write Jujutsu Kaisen fanfiction, pretty much exclusively Toji. I also don’t write on Tumblr. I will link my AO3 but please be warned that the stories I write have very dark content matter and are angst the whole way through.

#across the spiderverse #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk smut #hobie brown #hobie brown x you #miles morales #SoundCloud

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sparrow-ceiling · 3 months

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OK SO CAN WE TALK ABOUT CHARLIE'S WEAPONS AND HER FINAL BATTLE DESIGN

ik i already made a whole post abt everyone's final battle designs (if you want to see it check under my hazbinposting tag, its literally just me gushing), BUT I wanted to make a new one for Charlie because UGH

OK. So her costume stays fairly the same throughout the battle, the cute little dress with the heart on the front, which is so real of her. I mentioned this in the other post also but I thought it was really cute how Charlie usually wears pants, and Vaggie usually wears a skirt, but it switches for the battle. Idk if that has any like. Metaphorical meaning but i think it's cute.

For the weapons, we start out the battle and we see Charlie with her shield. Which yes is a very Charlie thing to have: she's a very protective character, all she wants to do is keep her people safe.

But if you LOOK AT THE shield. GOD, look at the shield. First of all, it's so pretty. Everything in this show is so aesthetically pleasing guys. BUT. There are literally FOUR visual motifs on this shield, plus colors (which are mostly just the normal color palette, but also relate to her and her father). SHIELD MOTIFS. It has (1), the wings. She's angelic & she's powerful (since Angels are kind of a symbol of power and heirarchy.) She has angelic blood from her dad, it doesn't seem like she has actual wings, but she definitely does hav the power that is associated with those wings. The wings also might be a nod to Vaggie's wings.

The shield also (2), looks like an apple. It has the little leaf in the back, and the core in the middle. Lucifer DEFINITELY also has a lot of apple imagery, so that's something she gets from her dad, to, another nod to where her power comes from. We also have (3), the snake. This might be a bit of a stretch but I'm pretty sure that part around the core of the apple that goes down into a point is a snake, which is also associated with Lucifer. Most of the motifs on the shield are a nod to her dad, to her power and where she gets it from. Also beyond physical power, she gets emotional power from her dad. She looks up to him, idolizes him, and she gets confidence from her connection with him.

The fourth and probably-not-final thing that the sheild has is its shape. This was honestly the fist thing I noticed about the shield, and you can really see it well in the above image: the shield is in the shape of a heart. As a Stranger Things fan, of course I am partial to heart shields. Just like Mike, Charlie is the heart of her party. She's the strength, she's where the love and the joy and the connection comes from. Sir Pentious, for example, only gets heart motifs in his design once he gets his heaven redesign, but Charlie has heart motifs in her design from the minute she steps on the battlefield. Look at her dress. That heart, that love, is a part of her. Love is so intrinsic to her personality and to her character that she can defy hell which honestly. She's so real for that (Also can we talk about how she looks at Vaggie in these pictures. I would die for her.)

So Charlie's heart/wings/apple/snake shield is not only a show of power because of her connection with Lucifer (with snake and apple) and her angelic blood (with the wings), but it's also an expression of her personality (with the heart and the fact that it is a shield in the first place). Her character development kind of comes to a peak here: she's learned to be confident in herself while still being that kind, loving, wonderful, dreamy Charlie, and the shield emphasizes that so well.

BUT WAIT. This isn't just a Charlie's-shield-appreciation-post (although it could be.) She literally gets THREE outfits in one episode (standard, the one with the shield, and the post-magical-girl-transformation one)

After Pentious dies and she tranforms, her appearance and her weapon change. Her physical changes are her horns, the inverted, glowing eyes, the tail (with the little heart on it!!), and her hair coming untied (so magical girl of her, but also look at the shape language! She becomes angrier more violent, and instead of that typical, soft, round bubble ponytail, her let-down hair is full of angles, especially in the picture below). We've seen her demon form a couple of times previously in the series I believe, and it happens when she experiences severe emotion and/or wants to show her power, both of which are happening right now (Honestly I love how it shows how much she loves Pentious. She's so sweet and I love her. He means so much to her.) HOWEVER, her physical appareance isn't the only thing that changes after her magical girl transformation. She also has (surprise, surprise), a new weapon!!!!

The trident doesn't have as many strong motifs in it as the shield did, but it's still fuckin. Crazy. So first and second of all we have the apple and the snake, which repeat from the shield, and still represent Charlie's power that she gets from her dad. The third thing about the trident is color scheme: The shield was red, gold, and white, will the trident introduces another color to the mix: black. I dunno what to say about this, but it's interesting to note. Something something her emotions get darker? There's probably a way to read into it but idk. lmk if anyone has thoughts on it.

Although there is the addition of the heart on Charlie's tail, this stage of her design also loses the heart on her weapon. Similar to the addition of black, this probably represents the darker turn in her design and emotion, and the darker turn in the battle. She's not completely out for love (haha see what I did there) anymore, she's also out for revenge (as an extension of love, but what she's really feeling and fighting from right now is anger, as opposed to the joy/hope/love from the start of the battle).

Anyway, the fifth and final thing about the trident is that it's no longer a defense weapon, like the shield was, it's now an attack weapon (also a very similar on to Vaggie's, which could be another nod to her). We also notice this in her demeanor! As opposed to the repeated sorries from before her tranformation, Charlie is now unapologetically violent. She charges right into the battle with Adam. She's no longer just trying to defend to protect (shield) her people, now she's going with the whole best-defense-is-a-good-offense ideology. She's on the offense in order to protect her people.

That's why I enjoy Charlie's character design and weapons in this episode so much. There are so many layers to it and UGH. THANK YOU for listening to me ramble, and lmk if you have any more thoughts on this because I would LOVE to hear them! As you can see I am totally normal about this show.

#hazbinposting #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #oh my god

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bobawitch · 11 months

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The Different Stage (Jack Wilder x Reader)

warnings: fluff, mentions of stripping, suggestive situations.

A/N: i was rewatching the now you see me movies and I am absolutely obsessed with Jack Wilder so I thought I’d write a fic abt it. So in this reader is a stripper, she’s not a prostitute but she pole dances at a strip club and Jack goes in with Atlas and Merritt. Jack likes her and wants to actually get to know her. that’s basically it! Hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 1307

Chapter 1:

It was just another night at the club. You had to work, in fact your hours had just about doubled since your rent went up. Though that’s just how it is in New York isn’t it. Thankfully you had done your last dance for the night and were packing up to go back to your crappy apartment. You pulled your hair up into a messy bun held together by a big clip. You walked back through the drinking area, the dancer scheduled after you had already taken the stage. You looked at her, smiling at her and waving, she smiled back. All the dancers were close, you all had to be to make sure no one got in trouble with a creepy customer. You turned to resume your journey home when you knocked into someone. A smooth male voice hit your ears and you found yourself face to face with these beautiful brown eyes. “Miss?” He spoke and you realized he had definitely said something else. The other two men that were with him eyed you before shrugging and walking to a table. “Oh uh, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.” You said before moving to the side to push past him. He let you leave but watched you very closely as you did leave. Then he found his friends. Jack sat down with Atlas and Merritt, still looking back at the door you had left from. Atlas nudged Merritt with a devilish grin. “Look Jack’s got a crush!” Jack smacked Atlas’s arm, his eyes not leaving the doorway for a few more minutes. “Shut up.” Merritt and Atlas laughed before their night went on.

The next day you found yourself thinking of the man you ran into. You had never seen him around the bar before but he looked so familiar. You tried to push the beautiful stranger from your mind as you got ready for your night. You chose a fan favorite dance tonight, with the fan favorite outfit too. You didn’t enjoy your job but you were damn good at it. You walked out onto the stage after their announcement of your stage name and the music began. It was your most popular song for stage dance, So High by Doja Cat. You slowly strutted to the pole, throwing one leg around and letting yourself swing around. Your arms stabilized you on the pole and your head made a slow circle. It was the first time you actually looked at the audience and when you caught a pair of chocolate brown eyes you nearly stopped your routine. It was the man from the night before. He had come with the other two men again though one was being escorted off for a private lap dance. You let your eyes linger on him as his eyes burned your skin with intensity. You slowly dragged yourself back up the pole before moving to the side of the stage. Fingers twisting together you dropped to your knees at the beat, crawling forward before touching up your torso as the chorus began. Soon you lost yourself in the music, temporarily forgetting about the candy-eyed man. After your performance you had groundwork to do, that of course entailed a costume change and small makeup touch up. Once you changed your outfit and pulled your hair to one side you walked out. You were headed to one of the tables in your area when you were stopped. A man had walked in front of you, causing you to look up. Once more you found yourself in an intense staring match with the handsome stranger. “Uh.. hi.” He said, obviously a bit flustered, You smirked and touched his shoulder, walking next to him. “Hello loverboy.” You replied, beginning to walk away, your finger signaling for him to follow behind you. Upon hearing his footsteps behind you, your smirk grew. You got to the bar and picked up a tray for one of the tables. The stranger finally caught up and leaned on the bar. “So what’s your name… y’know your real name?” He asked. You laughed, “I don’t give my name to customers, sorry sweetcheeks.” “Then who do you give your name to?” “Hm, let me think on that.” You winked at him before moving to the table you were to serve. You set down the drinks, chatting up the gentlemen at the table for a few moments. A few tips were made through that before you walked back to the bar, handsome stranger was waiting for you. “I’m Jack, by the way.” He said. “Alright Jack, you going to buy something or just keep talking to me?” You glanced at him, smirking again. “Hm, how much would a date cost?” His lips cracked into a smirk to rival yours. A sultry giggle escaped your lips before you shook your head. “Dunno, how much you willing to pay? And what do you want me to do for that date?” Out of the corner of your eye you saw him shake his head. You leaned against the bar now, looking at him and holding tense eye contact. His cheeks had gone a bit pink as you spoke but he composed himself as he replied. “No no, not that kind of date.” “Hm, how about I think about that? Maybe I’ll let you know at the end of my shift.” You shrugged, grabbing another drink tray before moving to deliver them. As you began to walk to the table one of Jack’s friends came over, obviously drunk as hell. “Heyy Jack! You found her! Great job!! Hey, how about I pay for a private lap dance huh?” He spoke, smirking at Jack and still blocking your path. Jack began to protest the idea of a lap dance, giving you an apologetic smile. You giggled a bit, his smile was kinda cute. But his friend had already pulled out the money and stuck it in your top string. You sighed, handing your drink tray to one of the other girls to deliver. Jack looked down at you when your hand pressed to his chest. “Well, come on loverboy, a lap dance was ordered.” You wrapped your fingers around his tie and pulled him off. “You don’t have to give me a lap dance, I’m so sorry about my friend.” He spoke in pure panic until you got to the booths for private lap dances. You turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Hesitant hands found your hips and you smiled. You leaned in, your lips almost brushing against his before turning him around and pushing him into the chair. You climbed onto his lap, your thighs trapping him beneath you. You leaned down to his ear and whispered, “If you want me to stop, just say that.” As your words left your lips you began the dance. Your hips grinded gently in a circle, your hands dragging up his chest. Jack opened then closed his mouth, his hands not knowing where to touch. You leaned forward, pulling yourself up. Your chest was at his eye level yet his eyes stuck onto yours. You brought your hands around his head, playing with his hair. You dragged his head back, leaning into his neck to whisper. “I’m Y/N. And a date sounds nice, if you still want that.” Jack’s hands finally found your waist and he sat you down on his lap, looking at you with a different kind of intensity. “When do you get off?” “11.” “Let me get you food after work.” “You have a deal Jack.” You stood back up and pushed your hand onto his shoulder. Slowly you climbed off his lap and opened the curtain. “See you at 11 Jack.” You winked and walked off before he could get another sentence in.

#jack wilder #jack wilder x reader #nysm #nysm2 #now you see me #now you see me 2 #jack wilder fanfic #jack wilder imagines

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cardiganloser · 7 months

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will probably try and script more coherent thoughts on ofmd s2 tomorrow and my opinion is overall very positive but i really don't like the way they're handling jim/archie and olu/zheng. to clarify i would be 100% okay with a more open/poly version of jim/olu, esp since vico ortiz is poly irl, but this just feels underbaked.

1) jim and archie only interact a few times in the first episode before one of their first scenes in the second episode is their kiss. i think archie will be a fun character and her banter with jim was decent but to me there really wasn't enough build-up to pay off a kiss, esp after jim/olu was a well-done plot line last season that was built up by a series of good, genuine moments across all ten episodes. i don't think a slow-burn is always a definite requirement for a good romance but more than like three scenes of build-up is.

2) olu fully admits in ep 3 he had no idea that zheng was flirting with him. full honesty i was expecting zheng to be a lesbian (idk why just vibes) but really? she apparently grows a crush on olu through all his visits to her soup stand, of which we see one where they have a normal, polite conversation. then they join up with the revenge, jim and olu reunite and five minutes later olu is making out with her in her office? i'm aware olu was probably still surprised by the jim and archie situation but it genuinely felt so out of nowhere to me. tbh her random crush on olu was the only thing abt zheng i disliked, other than that she was fantastic and i'm very excited to see more of her. her feelings read like an unrequited crush to me.

3) jim and olu were a fantastic couple in s1, i was and still am obsessed. again, poly/open relationship is fine if done right, but this just reads like they forced relationship drama. we are only three eps in and maybe they aren't even going the poly route but in that case why make this a thing in the first place? why have jim and olu make out with other people when ed and stede are clearly giving us all the relationship drama? yeah, they thought the other person was dead/didn't know if they'd see them again but surely they'd be holding out hope or still grieving after what's been a year at most.

anyways, like i said, overall a good start but this plot point is rlly dragging down the early eps for me. hopefully it resolves quickly.

#ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means death spoilers #jim jimenez #oluwande boodhari #archie ofmd #zheng yi sao #jim x oluwande

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ayyeitssarahh · 1 year

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Kinkmas Day 2! Billy Hargrove x Reader(Spanking)

TW: Spanking, Fingering, squirting, slightly Mean!Billy, maybe toxic!billy(if you squint), Soft!Billy, aftercare.(I believe that's it but lemme know if I missed any!)

(A/n: This is super late but I lowkey forgot so sorry abt that. Also I mentioned a taxi once or twice here and they probably don’t have taxis in Hawkins cause it's a small town but lets pretend ok. Also, There's like 2 maybe 3 time skips to get to the Smut faster. Anddd I wrote this at like 5 am so sorry if there is misspelling Lol, Anyways enjoy.)

Word Count: 2.1k

“Do you have to tell him when you got out all the time?” Claire asks as we get dressed in her room.

“No. He just worries a lot so I tell him so he doesn't.” I tell her, buttoning up my jeans.

“Mhmm, sure.” She replies in an unconvincing way. I roll my eyes. Turning around to look at her.

“You ready? I told Billy that I'd be home by 11 and it's 9 now. I wanna get hom ebay then because he said he has a surprise for me!” I said, getting a little excited.

“Yeah yeah, lets go, it takes like 10 minutes to get there so lets bounce.” She said, grabbing her house keys and walking out the front door. Locking it once I'm outside too.

“We’ve got everything? Keys, wallet?” I ask, just making sure before we actually leave.

“Yep! Let's get going. Hopefully the line isn’t too long” She said, walking down the driveway. I follow after her.

“We can always use our special charm! You know, being a woman and all!” I smirk, sending her a wink when she turns around to give me a quick look.

“Jeez Y/n. You are such a weirdo!” She exclaimed. Getting into the taxi she called 15 minutes ago to come get us, me getting in behind her.

*Time skip to the bar. 1 hour in*

The music is bumping in the background. Claire found someone to dance with about 20 minutes ago and since then I've been sitting here slowly sipping on my 4th drink tonight. A Bronx Cocktail.

Looking around, I spot a pair of green eyes staring at me, a male, maybe one or two years older than me.

I smile and look away, not noticing them coming my way.

I take another sip of my drink, feeling a tap on my shoulder.

“Excuse me miss, I noticed you're all alone and was wondering if you'd like to dance?” He asked, politely, might I add. Totally surprising to me.

I blush, realizing I haven’t answered him yet.

“Oh I’m sorry. No, I actually have a boyfriend so I don’t think that would be appropriate but thank you for the offer.” I told him, giving him a small smile.

He smiled and nodded, “understandable. Well then, you have a nice night…”

“Y/n” I told him, “And you have a nice night too…:

“Shane” he said.

“Well you have a nice night too Shane” I said. Giving him one more small smile and a wave as he walks away.

A couple moments later, Claire stumbled over.

“Who was that?!” She asked, hiccuping after.

I grab her hand, helping her sit down, waving the bartender over to ask for a glass of water.

He sets it down and I push it in her hands.

“Down this and then I'll tell you.” I told her.

She rolls her eyes, ”Yes mother.” She said, downing it and slamming the glass down after, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Better?” I ask.

She shrugs, “Kinda. Now, tell me. Who was that?” She asks again, shaking my shoulders.

I chuckle, shaking my head, “That was Shane, I just met him tonight, he asked me to dance but I told him I had a boyfriend and he totally understood. We said goodnight to each other and he walked away. It was nothing.” I explained to her what happened.

She shook her head. Getting another water.

“He asked you to dance?” She asked.

“Yes” I answered her.

“And you said no?” She asked, like she was double checking I really did that.

Annoyed, I nodded, “Yes! He asked to dance and I said no. I Have. A. Boyfriend. Claire. One that I don’t think would approve of me dancing with another guy.” I said.

Leaning over, she took my shoulders, Looking me in my eyes.

“Look girl, I’m not telling you what to do, you can do whatever you want. I just want you to have fun, and sitting here by yourself when I'm over there dancing, isn't fun. Now it's 10:30, before you have to get back, maybe asking for a dance, even just one could be fun. But if you just wanna sit here, by yourself for the next 20 minutes, then by all means go ahead. However, I am going to go back over there and dance with Danny, and then maybe go home with him, if you know what I mean.” She said, winking.

I laughed, shaking my head, “I know what you mean. I just, isn’t it cheating if I dance with another guy?” I ask her.

She shook her head, “No, not if you guys are friends and it's friendly. You said it yourself that he understood you had a boyfriend. If you just ask him to dance as friends, you're fine. And even if it's one dance, it can still be fun before you leave.” She explained.

I nodded, ”Yeah, I guess you're right.” I said, thinking about it.

“You don’t have to of course, but you have 15 minutes and like I said, one dance couldn't hurt and could be fun. Just think about it, ok?” she asks, standing back up, getting ready to head back over to Danny.

I nod for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“Thanks babe. I'll see you later ok. Call me when you get home or call me in the morning if you don’t go home tonight. If I don’t hear from you by noon tomorrow, Imma call the police. Understand missy.” I tell her, jokingly but also serious.

“Yes, yes, I understand. I'll call you later. Love you!” She yelled, already walking away.

“Love you too!” I yelled back. Turning back towards the bar.

I sigh, rubbing my head before finally making up my mind.

“Excuse, Sir? Can I get a shot of tequila please? Thanks” I said as he set it in front of me.

I grab the glass, counting to three before taking the shot, making a face at how strong it was before shaking my head.

I stand up, smoothing down my shirt, turning around, ready to have a bit of fun.

*Time skip. 45 minutes later*

“You did not!” I exclaim, slapping Shane's arm as I die of laughter.

“Yup, I totally did. I looked him up and down and showed him a shrimp. He was being a complete asshole and he deserved it for talking to my sister like that.: He said, laughing along with me.

“That's Hilarious!” I said, still laughing.

“What hilarious?” I hear a deep voice ask behind me. My eyes go wide before I quickly stand up and turn around.

“Baby.” I said in a greeting. Walking over to Billy, I grab his hand.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him.

“It’s 11:30. I got worried” He said, his voice holding no emotion, his eyes staring holes into Shane's head.

“It Is?! Oh my gosh, babe I'm so sorry I must have lost track of time. Lemme go close my tab and we can go ok?” I tell him, kissing his cheek before walking past him to the bar.

I do that real quick before walking back over, Billy in the same spot where I left him.

“Okay I'm good. Let's go.” I said, walking over to the table where Shane was at to grab my purse.

“Oh yeah! Baby, this is Shane, we met tonight and he was telling me about how this guy was an asshole to his sister and all that. It was so funny. Anyways, sorry about this Shane. It was nice talking to you.” I said, grabbing my purse and waving at him, grabbing Billy’s hand and walking to the door.

Shane waved back and in a second we were out the door.

Walking to the car, Billy opens my side for me before shutting it once I'm in. He walks around the car and gets in, turning it on and backing out.

Doing all this, unusually quietly.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing his hand, “You ok?” I ask

He clenches his jaw, “You were 30 minutes Late because you were talking to some guy! What the hell Y/N?! I thought we said 11 because of the surprise I had?” He asked, slightly angry.

“I'm so sorry baby. I didn’t mean to lose track of time. It won’t happen again, I promise” I said. Leaning over to kiss his cheek in reassurance.

“I know it is not. Not after I teach you a lesson.” He said quietly, I almost didn't hear it.

“W-what? What's that supposed to mean?” I asked.

His hand left the steering wheel, putting it on my thigh. Gripping it kinda hard.

“You’ll see when we get home,” he said. And that was it for the rest of the car ride.

Nothing but silence.

Once home, he opens the door and lets me go in first. Smacking my butt a little to hurry me up.

“Go in the room and get undressed. Everything off in 2 minutes” He said in my ear, walking off into the bathroom before I could ask questions.

Part of me wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t but the other half didn’t want to see what would happen so I went with the second one.

Walking in, I quickly undress and sit on the bed, waiting for Billy to come out.

A couple minutes go by, when the door creaks open and he walks in shirtless. His jeans unbuttoned but zipped up.

He walks over, and sits down. Looking at me then patting his lap.

Thinking he meant to sit on his lap, I go to do that when he stops me.

“No baby, lay across my legs, ass up dove.” He said.

I slowly do as he says, slightly confused.

He rubs my ass softly, massaging it almost. Until I feel a sting on it.

“Ow!” I said, trying to get up but his arms held me down.

“Hey- Billy , what are you doing?” I ask.

“Teaching you a lesson dove. Now count for me. If you refuse or stop for longer than 5 seconds, we're starting over. Understand?’ He states more than ask.

I just nod, not wanting to make a big deal and just get this over with.

“Good girl. Now let’s start”

He rubs my ass before I feel a smack.

“Count!” He demands after I don’t say anything.

“O-one” I say almost breathlessly.

“Hmm” he hums, smacking my ass again.

*A couple mins later*

“T-Twenty” I said, stuttering, Tears running down my face.

He rubs my ass, soothing it a little.

“Good job baby. We're all done. You did so good for me.” He says softly, still caressing my ass.

His hands, go over from one cheek to the other then slowly moving down until,

“Ohhhh”, I moan, my eyes rolling back.

He slowly moves his finger in and out of my, then adds a second one.

“Since you did so good for me baby, you can get a little reward.” he said, starting to move his fingers faster.

I grip the sheets, moaning out.

I feel my orgasm start to come unbelievably fast.

“I'm gonna, Oh god Billy! I'm gonna cum!” I screamed, cumming around his fingers.

He slows down his fingers but doesn’t stop, helping me ride out my orgasm.

“Okay baby, I'm gonna pick you up and lay you down. You made a mess so I gotta change the covers really quick.” Billy said, slowly pulling his finger out of me and removing me from his lap, taking the covers and then laying me down.

I yawn, “Mess? I made a mess?” I ask, confused but also very tiredly.

“You squirted all over my fingers and the blankets dove.” he said. Walking back over with a new blanket, shirt and a tube of something.

I hmm, not really caring anymore about anything except sleep.

“Alright dove, let's put this on, sit up really quick,” he says, helping me sit on a sore butt to slide a shirt on really quick.

“Okay now lay on your stomach, I'm gonna rub this ointment on your but ro help and then we can cuddle ok?” he says, Putting some cool ointment on my burning hot ass.

I nod, totally out of it now.

“There we go. All done! Alright dove, let's go to bed.” He said, getting up to wash his hands and then turn off the bedroom light.

He pulls the covers over you both, carefully putting his arm around you, mindful of your butt.

He nuzzles his head into your neck, “I love you, you know that right?” he asks, but you're already knocked out.

He chuckles and closes his eyes. So much for the surprise.

#smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x female reader #stranger things #billy stranger things

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