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phoward89 · 2 months

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Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Based on this ask

Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus Snow, Young Politician!Coriolanus Snow, Coriolanus and Reader are 25 in this.

Warnings! Cussing, Premature labor, mention of suicide, mention of death, heavy angst, underage smoking um I think that's it...

Hate That I Love You

There's an old saying that goes 'There's a fine line between love and hate'. An old saying that would ring true about your relationship with Coriolanus Snow.

Coriolanus needed to marry for power and money in order to cement his path to political (presidential) success. Which is why he married you.

Lucky you…

Anyways, he brokered an arranged marriage with your step-father, who was a high ranking general in the Peacekeepers, by reminding him that your real father Colonel Halvir had served with his father, General Crassus Snow. That they had died together in the woods of 12 by the hands of rebels and it's only fitting that the heirs of both military greats marry.

Honestly, he just wanted your step-father’s money and political support. What better way to get a seat on the war council then to marry the step-daughter of the Head Of The War Department.

Yea, your step-father was given that position after Dr. Gaul met a tragic and accidental death. It's such a pity that she ‘accidently’ slipped and fell into a tank of deadly mutts.

Well, Coriolanus was given her position as Head Gamemaker at only 23 while your family got an even bigger boost in political power.

Of course, your step-father agreed to the match. Your mother was leery about it and your older brother, Rein, honestly didn't give a shit since he was off in one of the districts serving as a peacekeeper. Your younger half-brother, Darius, thought that you were marrying a cold blooded snake.

Oh, how he couldn't be more spot on if he tried.

9 months of marriage (7 of them being pregnant) and your husband was still cold and offish to you. He seemed to avoid you, unless he wanted to get his dick wet.

Hell, he even avoided eating meals with you.

It was a miracle that he even ate Sunday dinners with you, considering he would grab the plate you made up for him and take it to his private study to eat.

All alone and locked away from you. As if you disgusted him.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you, because it did. It hurts (especially since you were pregnant) having a husband that hates you. What makes it worse is that you fell in love with the cold hearted bastard. You don't even know how you managed to do that, but you did.

And on top of everything, your pregnancy wasn't the easiest one either. Even though you’re young, you've been extremely stressed (of course you're stressed, look at who your husband is) and your OBGYN told you that you needed to calm down or else you'd be at risk for a few health issues.

Mostly high blood pressure and…well…you didn't even want to think about the other one the doctor mentioned.

Of course, since your husband’s too busy campaigning for the Senate (he claimed that he needed to become a Senator before he could even think about running for President) he never went to any of your appointments. He offered though. He always offered to go with you, but you always waved him off and told him to worry about his campaign.

That you'd be fine going to the doctor by yourself.

But the truth was, you just couldn't handle pretending to be a happy couple in at the doctor's office. It was easier to let everyone at OBGYN’s office to believe that Coriolanus was busy with his political ambitions along with being the head gamemaker then having them see how uninterested he was in your pregnancy.

How fake his smiles were; how his hands shook with disgust when holding yours.

You were afraid the little cracks in the facade you put on with Coriolanus for the public would crack in the doctor's office. It was too much of a close, intimate setting for the cracks not to be easily hidden.

It wasn't like when he drags you around to galas, showing you off on your arm to the right people only to shoo you off to talk to the rich Capitol housewives. You didn't spend too much time at galas with him. You spent your time playing the part of a pretty perfect housewife that got along with other rich women while your husband spent his time networking.

Talk about your husband, Coriolanus was currently in staring at his reflection in the floor length mirror near the closet while tying his red and black damask tie in a Windsor knot. He looked perfectly handsome today. His platinum hair (Which you were shocked to find out was natural. Say what?!) was perfectly styled and slicked back with gel and his face was freshly shaved. Like always, he was dressed in one of his custom suits that cost more than what somebody in the mines, fields, and factories of the districts made in a month.

It was a black one with a matching waistcoat. Which was a far cry from all white and various shades of red he wore.

Hell, it wasn't just him that wore white and various shades of red, but you too since he deemed what dresses were in your closet. Eh, at least he had his cousin design you some pink dresses to wear in-between all the white and reds he curses you with.

Pink was your favorite color, but you know that he's got no clue. Having his cousin design a few pink dresses for you was just a coincidence.

It didn't mean anything.

As Coriolanus tied his tie with a Windsor knot, his icy blue eyes watched you from the mirror. You were across the room, sitting at the your vanity. Your were brushing your hair and looked a bit lost in your thoughts.

He wanted you ask you what was on your mind, but he was…

Scared.

Yes, he was scared to put himself in a situation where he had to have an actual conversation with you outside of the clipped responses and simple questions that are detrimental to married life.

Coriolanus was afraid that if he talked, truly talked with you, then the well kept secret he's been keeping for the last few months would come spilling out. That he'd have to confront his feelings for you because he knew that once he started to listen to you share your thoughts that he'd be a goner.

That his hard, cold mask he wears around you would shatter.

He just couldn't have that.

He couldn't allow himself to admit that he's in love with you.

Coriolanus swore to himself that he'd never fall in love again. That he'd never give somebody so much power and control over him and his emotions ever again.

That he'd never make himself become weak for a woman.

After Lucy Gray broke his heart by betraying him, manipulating him, and using him to keep her ungrateful ass alive, he swore off love.

Love was painful.

He learned that the hard way.

Love was a weakness that he couldn't afford.

So, he decided to marry somebody that he felt that he'd never be able to love. Somebody that he could even hate. And that's why he picked you.

Yes, your step-father was a very prominent general, but it was your mother's blood running in your veins that made you the perfect candidate for marriage. It was the worst best kept secret in the Capitol that your mother, Helenium, had baby trapped your father, an officer in the peacekeepers, into marrying to rise out of poverty in District 12. The fact that you had district blood, not any district but 12, blood running in your veins was reason enough for Coriolanus to hate you.

So, assuming that he'd hate you til her grew old and died, he approached your step-father about marrying you.

Unfortunately, he didn't anticipate how easy you truly were to fall in love with.

Fuck!

He hated it.

Coriolanus hated having feelings for you.

He didn't like feelings.

He refuses to acknowledge them.

As long as he ignored his feelings then he couldn't get hurt. You couldn't hurt him.

He's never let himself get hurt over love ever again.

Coriolanus was about to turn away from the mirror and walk out of the room, but stopped himself whenever he heard your breath hitch and saw you quickly place your hand on your rounded belly.

Was something wrong? The last time you had a doctor's appointment he intended to take the morning off, but you insisted that he meet with his political team and work on his Senate campaign. But when he got home he asked you how the appointment went and you told him everything was fine.

Did you lie to him?

Turning around to look at you, he asked, “Are you alright, Y/N?”

You powered through the sharp pain and nodded, “I'm fine, Coriolanus.”

“Are you sure?” Your husband asked, starting to make his way over to you with worry in his striking blue eyes.

“I'm sure, Coriolanus.” You lied.

You weren't fine. You were having sharp pains; felt a bit nervous too since you were only 7 months along in your pregnancy. But, you couldn't tell your husband that.

Coriolanus was as cold as his name- Snow.

He didn't give a fuck about you.

Hell, you could die in childbirth and he wouldn't even care. He'd just hire a nanny to raise his heir, your baby boy Cassian Xandros, and then he'd just find somebody else to marry. Somebody else to hate and make miserable.

You felt that Coriolanus wouldn't shed a single tear if something went wrong and you died in childbirth. That he wouldn't mourn you, wouldn't give a shit if your headstone was overrun with weeds and overgrowth.

You were so wrong though. So very wrong about that.

Coriolanus would be utterly heartbroken if he lost you the same way he lost his mother and baby sister. He'd blame himself.

He'd be eating a bullet and joining you in that graveyard, making your son an orphan, if you died in childbirth.

A thin, but fake smile, graces your lips as you assured him, “I'm fine, Coriolanus. It's probably just braxton hicks or something.” You felt him stop right next to you as you set your brush down. His shadow fell over you, but you refused to look up at him. Instead you reached for your powder compact.

Coriolanus gave it to you as a gift after you told him you were pregnant. It was silver and had roses engraved on it. The face powder inside of it smelled like roses too.

Unknown to you, him giving you that compact was his love language.

It belonged to his mother.

The first time he gave it to somebody it was filled with poison to help that manipulative performer of a bitch Lucy Gray to cheat in the arena during the 10th Hunger Games.

The second time he gave it to somebody, the reasoning wasn't twisted, but was genuine. Coriolanus thoroughly cleaned his mother's compact, filled it with rose scented face powder, and gave it to you after learning that you were carrying his child.

He gave it to you because you made him happy. Because you were giving him a family.

It was also the moment when he realized he didn't hate you at all, but actually had feelings for you.

Coriolanus would never admit it, but your pregnancy wasn't a happy one for him. He imagined that he'd be more involved, but you were pushing him so hard to focus on his campaign.

Even though he avoided talking to you for longer then he had to, he still wanted to be involved with your pregnancy. Maybe the next one’ll be happier since he won't be campaigning.

And yes, he planned on having at least one more child with you. Cassian Xandros needed a sibling after all.

Opening the compact and grabbing the puff inside, you told your husband, “I'm fine, really.” Patting the puff into the compact’s powder, you urge him to leave. “If you don't go, you'll be late for your political meetings and duties as head Gamemaker.”

Coriolanus nodded, only to rub your shoulder and say, “If you need me, call me.”, before pivoting on his heel and walking out of your master bedroom.

You thought that your pains would ease up, but they didn't. As the day progressed, so did they.

It got to the point that as you gazed outside the window, looking at the bustling city streets below, you debated on whether or not to call your husband.

Coriolanus told you to call him if you needed him. But, did you need him? Maybe. Hell, you didn't know. All you knew was that he didn't care about you; would probably be upset that you called him. He was a busy man; you doubt that he actually meant it when he told you to call him.

He probably just said it because it was the husbandly thing to say to a wife that seemed upset.

He didn't mean it. No, he was cold and unfeeling towards you so the less you bothered him the better.

Coriolanus was busy preparing for the start of the games and running a Senate campaign. He didn't need to be bothered by you and your pains.

You let out cry, feeling like a thunderbolt has struck your side. Oh god, the pains were getting worse.

Clenching your teeth, you turned away from the window to shuffle over to the phone.

You weren't going to call your husband. No, you couldn't do that. But, maybe you could call your doctor instead.

You never called your doctor.

Your sure as hell didn't call your Coriolanus either.

Instead, your 17 year old brother did. And that call, well, it gutted your husband.

He just replayed it over and over again in his mind as he rushed to the hospital (opting to snag the car keys from his driver, Bentley, and just gun it to Capitol General Hospital himself).

“This is Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow, to whom am I speaking with?” Coriolanus answered his office phone, like he always did, with a polite but professional greeting.

“Coriolanus, bro, it's Darius-” Your brother began to say, only for the aspiring senator to cut him off with a question of, “Darius, what are you calling me for? Shouldn't you be in class at the Academy right now?”

“Dude, you're the damn Head Gamer, did you forget how the top students are stuck mentoring tributes from districts without Victor's to act as mentors?” Darius asked in a ‘duh, you're an idiot’ type of tone. “I'm stuck being a mentor for District 8 and was given half the day off to go to the Tribute Housing center to make sure everything's all prepared and shit. So, before going over to that shit hole of a glorified hotel, I went to visit my sister, but I found her passed out and bleeding. I had to call the medics.”

Coriolanus’ couldn't believe his ears. You passed out and bleeding! Were you alright? Were you hurt? Was something wrong with the baby? Were you downplaying your pains this morning so he'd go to work instead of staying home with you?

So many questions ran through his platinum blonde head, but before he could string his thoughts together to form a coherent sentence, Darius told him, “You need to get to the hospital quick, Coriolanus. I'm just her brother and can't make any medical decisions for her since she's married to you.” Your little brother let out a shaky breath. “They saved the baby; it's in the NICU cause it came so early, but it's touch and go with Y/N.”

“What?...” Coriolanus let out in a whooshing breath.

Touch and go…

Did that mean?...

No…

No!

He couldn't lose you. Not now, not when he finally realized that he didn't hate you at all, but truly did love you with every fiber of his being.

“I’ll be right there. Thank you for calling, Darius.”

“Don't thank me, Coriolanus.” Darius spat, only to go on a long rant of, “I only called you because I can't make medical decisions for my sister and the hospital staff’s pussies that are too scared shitless of you to do it. If it was up to me, I wouldn't have called cause you're a cold hearted snake that doesn't deserve my sister. Y/N deserved a man that actually cares about her, not somebody that just takes her off a shelf and plays with her like a fucking doll when the mood hits.”

All Coriolanus could do was blink as his brother-in-law hung up on him.

Coriolanus' knuckles were holding onto the steering wheel with a white knuckle grip as he broke every traffic law known to man to get to the hospital.

The fact that he could lose you just like he lost his mother was fucking with his head. It was breaking him in ways that he never knew he could be broken.

Love is a painful thing. Love hurts. Love is the only thing to bring him to his knees. A feeling that he hates.

A feeling that he's tried to avoid.

But he couldn't avoid his feelings for you anymore.

Once he reached the hospital, Coriolanus inquired about your room, only to rush to your side. When he reached your room, you were hooked up to some machines and monitors.

Your little brother, Darius, was by your side. He was smoking a cigarette (which is not allowed in a hospital, by the way) while watching the Makary Show, which was a TV talk show where district women dragged peacekeepers and Capitol men they claimed were their baby daddies to do paternity tests.

“You can't smoke in here, Darius.” Coriolanus told your little brother while making his way to your bedside.

“It's a private room, cause the name Snow gets the VIP treatment, so it ain't like anyone's gonna complain bout it.”

“Y/N doesn't need to be exposed to it while she's fighting for her life. Be considerate of your sister.” Your husband hissed at your little brother.

“Oh, so now you give a fuck about her all of a sudden? Oooo…that's nice to know.”

Coriolanus' frostily stared Darius as he seethed, “Don't stand here and assume you know how I feel about my wife because you don't. Now, you need to leave.”

“I’ll let my parents know what's going on with Y/N.” Darius sighed, tossing his half smoked cigarette into his water cup before standing to his feet.

Without another word, your brother left your husband alone in your room.

Coriolanus took vigil by your bedside. He never left your side. Not even when a nurse came in and asked if he wanted to be escorted to the NICU to see his son.

He refused, saying that he'd see Cassian Xandros with you when you woke up.

The nurse sadly nodded and left him be. She thought he was grasping at straws since there was a chance that you wouldn't wake up.

Coriolanus begged you to wake up. Promised to make an effort to be around more of you'd only open your beautiful eyes from him.

And finally, after 3 days in a coma, you blinked your eyes open. At first your vision was a bit blurry as you heard a gasp from next to you. As your vision cleared, you saw your that your husband's face was near yours.

And he was crying.

He was crying?

Why was he crying?

You took in his appearance and realized that he looked like shit. His platinum curls, usually slick back with gel, were disheveled and greasy. He also had light blonde stuble covering his jaw.

But it was his icy blue eyes that tooth your breath away.

They held so much relief in them as they welled with water.

“Corio-” You began to ask, only for your husband to cut you off. “My darling, I thought I was going to lose you.” Coriolanus held you close to his chest and his voice cracked.

“Lose me? What happened?” You asked, pulling away from his hold to look up at him with confusion shining in your eyes.

“Darius found you passed out and bleeding, Y/N. You've been out of it for roughly 3 days.” Your husband explained, his usually firm voice a bit unsteady.

The air was knocked out of your lungs as the realization of what happened hit you. “The baby?...” You shakily asked, hoping that your baby boy survived.

“Cassian Xandros is strong and a survivor, just like us.” Coriolanus smiled. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he explained, ‘He's in the NICU; the nurse can take us to see him.”

Assuming that Coriolanus has seen your son already, you innocently asked, “Does he look like me or like you?”

“I don't know, darling. I've been waiting for you to wake up so we can see him together.”

Your husband's answer blindsided you. You weren't expecting that.

But what he said next, well, that rendered you speechless.

His baby blue eyes met yours as he poured out his blackened soul to you. His fingers threaded with yours as he confessed, “I was terrified that you weren't going to make it, Y/N. I was afraid that I'd have to go through the pain of heartbreak all over again.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Heartbreak? Did that mean…

“The first time I fell in love it was 7 years ago, when I was Lucy Gray’s mentor.”

You didn't need to hear that. You already knew he fell for her. Hell, everyone that was in the Top 24 of the Academy graduating class of 10 ADD knew that (yourself included).

Great, so he was going to tell you that he was still hung up on his lost first love while you lay in the hospital bed? What a cold hearted man you were married to. Hell, why would he even do that.

A glazed over look appeared in his eyes and his baritone grew tight. “I nearly destroyed my entire life for her. For love. And you know where it got me? Heartbroken, used up, betrayed, and alone.”

“Corio-”, You began, not understanding where he was coming from, only for him to interrupt you with the simple request of, “Please, call me Coryo.”

You nodded, prompting him to continue his holy confession, “Lucy Gray and her love left me feeling like a fool. I hated feeling like that and swore that I'd never let myself feel that way again. That I’d never fall in love again.” Coryo's thumb brushed over your knuckles. “I swore to marry a woman that I could never love, but only hate in order to never feel weak, broken, humiliated, and manipulated again.”

Great…so now it's confirmed that he hates you. You always suspected it, but now you know the truth for sure. You swallowed down a lump in your truth and softly said, “I understand, Coryo.”

“No, I don't think you do, darling.” Your husband shook his head, making his blonde curls rustle around. “I hate myself for loving you, my darling rose, because you have the power to destroy me if you wish.”

“Y-you love me?” You gasped as tears began to tickle your eyes.

“Yes.” Your husband smiled. “Very much and it frightens me because of what happened between me and that manipulative bitch all those years ago.”

Oh wow…Lucy Gray sure did do a number on your husband. Oh, if you ever got your hands on her, you'd rip hair hair out and claw her eyes out for the emotional turmoil she put Coriolanus through. If it wasn't for her breaking his heart so badly, you would’ve had a better marriage.

“I love you too, Coryo, and I'll never hurt you the way she did.’ You promised your husband.

“You better not or else I'll burn down all of Panem this time in the wake of my heartbreak.” Your husband teased before pressing a kiss to your lips.

A kiss filled with every single emotion he's ever held back from you these last few months. His lips fit perfectly against yours as he drank in your soul with every moment they made against yours.

You broke apart whenever you heard a nurse loudly clearing her throat. Once you looked to the woman, she smiled and simply said, ‘I’m glad to see you're up, Mrs. Snow. How would you like to see your son?”

3 Months Later…

The way Cassian Xandros Snow entered the world was very dramatic but you wouldn't change a thing about it. In fact, if it wasn't for his dramatic birth then you and your husband might have gone your entire lives without confessing the love you have for each other.

Oh, that would've been horrible.

You were sitting in a white glider, rocking your son to sleep after feeding him, whenever the sound of barefeet slapping against the marble floor made you look up towards the doorway.

“Happy anniversary, darling.” Coriolanus smiled, single pink rose in his hand, as he walked into the nursery.

*Happy Anniversary, Coryo.” You smiled back, watching your husband as he made his way over to your side. Flickering your eyes between the pink rose and his icy blue eyes, you remarked, “I was expecting a white rose, not a pink one.”

“Yes, well, it's only fitting that I give you a pink rose today. After all, pink roses are your favorite; the white ones are mine.”

“How did you know that? I never told you?”

“I can be quite observant and a bit obsessive when I'm in love.” Was Coriolanus' answer as he passed you the rose, only to take your son into his arms.

Pecking your husband on his plush lips, you honestly told him, “And I wouldn't want you any other way, Coryo.”

Because, honestly, you preferred his obsessive love over his cold and distant hate. After experiencing both, well, you quickly discovered that it was better to be the center of Coriolanus Snow's world than to not be in it at all.

He hated that he loved you, but you loved that he loved you.

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quiet-onset · 6 months

Text

fever pitch

pairing: michael berzatto x reader

wc: 12.1k+, somebody sedate me

summary: an assortment of your time with michael berzatto

warnings: no use of yn, smut, so minors dni!!!, unprotected sex, sex under the influence, by ext. dubcon since reader is unaware at the time, oral (f receiving), drug use and addiction (character and reader), canonical character death/suicide mention, pregnancy mention (sorry not sorry), please do not read if any of this is triggering for you!!

a/n: beta’d by @brattylyricist bc she has no other choice than to put up with my bs!! also bc the content matter here is triggering and i have personal experience seeing the damage that addiction can do to someone you love, I’m including national hotline phone numbers here. please don’t be afraid to seek help if you need it: national suicide prevention hotline: dial/text 988, substance abuse and mental health services administration: 1-800-662-HELP. again, please do not read this if any of the warnings are triggering for you!!!

The day went by in a blur. You got up, showered, did your hair and makeup. You ate the little breakfast you could stomach. You put on an acceptable black dress and matching high heels.

You drove to the church — tried to sit in the back, but Sugar pulled you to the front pew, right next to her. You stood behind the lectern and said kind, loving words. You drove to the cemetery and watched as his casket was lowered into the cold. And you went to the repass, doing your best to stay out of Donna’s way, knowing how she gets when she’s both sad and under pressure.

But you hadn’t cried.

You sat on the stairs with your wine glass filled with water as everyone mingled, exchanging condolences about your dearly departed. You let your heart ache as you downed the glass, stories of him being told by this person and that.

But you still hadn’t cried.

Donna burst out of the kitchen, her hair a bit disheveled and eyes red from crying. “Have you seen Carmy?”

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh. It must have been the seventh time she had asked. “No, Donna, I have not seen Carmy.”

“What a fuckin’ help you are.” She snapped, pulling a box of cigarettes from her apron. With her other hand, she snatched your empty wine glass and turned on her heel. “I do all this work, and I can’t even go outside to smoke.”

You followed close behind, huffing as you stood. “I thought Sugar was with you.”

“Sugar is with her.” The middle child interrupted. She gave you a weak, empathetic smile when you entered the kitchen behind Donna. A wine glass of her own in hand as she sat on the kitchen counter, she sipped on red wine. “But Sugar can’t cook.”

“Not like Carmy, you can’t. Get your ass off my fuckin’ counter, shoo!” Donna swatted at her daughter’s thigh until she hopped off the counter, snatching her half full wine glass as well. She downed the wine in a couple seconds, and you and Sugar shot each other a look. It was passing, but you both understood the meaning — Donna needed a break.

“She doesn’t have to cook, Donna. Just watch everything. Keep an eye on it, y’know?” You tried to intervene but she was having none of it.

“I don’t need an eye. I need hands! I need someone who can cook!” Donna threw the glasses into the sink, and you flinched when they shattered against the metal. “Fuck!”

“I’ll do it, Donna.” From the shakiness in her hands, you know she’s so close to losing it. To taking everything in the kitchen and throwing it on the ground, at the wall, at whoever she deemed worthy of having something thrown at them. “I know I’m not Carmy, but I’m better than Sug.”

“Hey!” Sugar sounded defensive, but you and Donna barely paid her any mind.

“You can’t fuckin’ cook, Sugar, get over it.” Her mother snapped. “I’d normally have Mikey do it, but he—”

“Ma.” You gently placed your hands on Donna’s shoulders, and a bit of the tension fell from them. You hadn’t called her that in a long time — it no longer felt right — but doing so made her recall happier times. You looked her in the eye, reassured her. “You go outside and smoke. I’ll take over for a few minutes, okay?”

Her eye twitched ever so slightly, and she was still shaking, but you could tell it grounded her a bit. “If everything else goes to shit, make sure the fish is good, alright?”

“Save the fish. Got it.”

Donna nodded, pulling a cigarette out of the box. Then she finally walked toward the exit of the kitchen, twirling it in her hand. Just before she left, she glanced at you again, her voice shaky. “You.. you would’ve been good for him. If he’d let you.”

When Donna left, there were tears in your eyes. Sugar watched to see if you’d need comfort, especially after one of those tears fell from your eye. But you were quick to wipe it away, taking a deep, shuddering breath. You turned to Sugar, gesturing toward the sink filled with broken glass. “Could you…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She was quick to do so, grabbing a paper bag to put shards in. You both worked in a comfortable silence. The only sound was the clinking of glass against each other. Sugar battled over whether she wanted to speak, but she figured if she needed kind words, then you definitely did. “Ma’s right, y’know. Michael lo—”

“Sug. Please.”

“Okay.”

There was a pause as you stirred a pot of stew, then you sighed. “I know he did. As much as he could anyway.”

—

Michael met you on a sober streak. He’d been clean for three weeks, the longest stint thus far. When Richie found out about his addiction, he dragged Michael to Narcotics Anonymous. You’re gonna die cooking at the restaurant or doing something cool, not fuckin’ OD, Richie had sneered in the car.

He sat in a chair, his arms crossed over his chest, grumbling like a child. Despite being sober for three weeks, he maintained that he didn’t need to come to these meetings. To Michael, this was just proof that he could quit whenever he wanted to. Regardless, Richie drove him to every meeting and planned to do so until he seemed ready to go on his own.

The host of the meeting, Brayden, greeted Michael with a kind smile, but he responded with a grunt. For three weeks, Michael sat silently in that circle and said absolutely nothing. He wondered what it took to get the man to speak, but of course, he’d never pressure anyone to share before they were ready.

Then you walked in. You seemed a bit more put together than others in the room, but still a bit shy. An oversized sweater wrapped around your frame, and you pulled it even closer, eyes glancing around the room. You nodded a greeting to Brayden before sitting in the circle across from Michael. When you noticed him glancing your way, you offered a friendly smile, and he returned it.

He knew then that he’d return to his weekly NA meetings.

The session started shortly after, but Michael was only half listening. He was mostly glancing back and forth from whoever was speaking to you. He liked the way you gave your full attention to every person who spoke, even when they said things you didn’t agree with — he could tell when you didn’t, a little crease would form for the briefest moment between your brows. But it always disappeared, and your attentive expression returned.

“Alright, would anyone else like to speak? Someone new maybe?” Brayden asked, quickly glancing at Michael.

He’d never admit it, but his heart was pounding at the idea of airing out his dirty laundry to a group of strangers. He took a deep, nervous breath, but then another voice spoke up.

“I’ll go.” You said, watching the relief wash over Michael’s face. You cleared your throat, pulling your sweater closer as you introduced yourself. “I was in a car accident two years ago. It, uh, it killed my son… That plus divorce plus prescribed oxy apparently equals addiction.”

The slightly playful lilt in your tone made Michael chuckle quietly, though you both knew nothing was funny. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat. Still, you continued, “I’ve been sober for two months, but my son’s birthday is coming up in a few months, so I, uh, needed a meeting. But yeah, that’s my story.”

After the meeting, you stood by the snack table, nursing a cup of coffee. Michael approached cautiously as he poured his own coffee. “Can I ask what his name was?”

You looked up from your paper cup into warm brown eyes. “Sorry?”

“Your son?”

“Oh.” You paused, and your heart sank at the reminder that your baby was gone. “His name was Benson.”

He snorted into his coffee cup, trying to hide his quiet laugh by clearing his throat. You noticed the light in his eyes, and it inexplicably made a smile pull at your lips too. “Sorry.” He said. “Benson’s a great name.”

“It’s a dorky name. Dorky first name, anyways. It’s what his father wanted.” You confirmed with a chuckle. “But it was my son’s name. So I liked it.”

“Course.” He smiled at you kindly. He was charming, and you liked it. “I’m Michael, by the way.”

You gave him your name and shook his hand. You went against your better judgment and invited him to your place. You both spent all night wrapped in your sheets, in each other’s embrace. He left for work the next morning but not before getting your phone number.

You texted Michael and arranged to meet up again that night. Then, you called your sponsor.

That was the beginning of the end.

—

“Cousin, your girlfriend’s here!”

“Not his girlfriend, Richie.”

“Not yet.”

“Send her back!” Michael’s voice floated in from the back of the kitchen.

You sidestepped Richie and walked through the kitchen, saying your hellos to everyone. “Where’s he at?” You asked.

“The office.” Tina answered, lightly nudging you in his direction. “He’s not having the best day.”

You nodded your understanding and proceeded to the small office where Michael was leaning back in his chair, hand over his face as he spoke into his cell phone. “No, I just don’t understand why we keep talking about the same shit.”

You leaned against the doorframe, giving him a small smile. He gave you the tiniest acknowledgment, a small wave, before spinning around in the chair to face the wall. You scoffed jokingly, closing the door behind you, “Well, fuck me, I guess.”

“Carmy, you’re a big shot in some fancy, five-star, European restaurant, what the fuck do you wanna be here for?” He asked exasperatedly. There’s a short pause, mumbling from the other side of the phone before Mikey throws a hand in the air. “Five star, three star, who gives a shit? Look, Carmen, you’re doing big things, good things. Stay in Europe. I gotta go.”

When Michael hung up, a long, tired sigh racked his body. “This would be a perfect time for—”

“One month.” You interrupted. You knew all too well where his mind was headed. He was spiraling into that dark, secluded state of mind you’d found him in just a few weeks after you met. He’d relapsed after a particularly hard day at the restaurant, something about finances and paying back a loan that he refused to tell you more about. But you’d helped him then. Picked him up, dusted him off, and called his sponsor — Started him back on the path of sobriety again. If you could help it, he’d never reach that lonely place again.

“One month.” He repeated to himself. Then, he spun around. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You walked over to him, standing between his spread legs. He immediately rested his forehead on your belly, groaning when you carded a hand through his hair. Your other hand rubbed circles into his back, the tense muscles a sharp contrast to his soft black locks. “I take it that was your brother?”

He grunted affirmatively. “Keeps askin’ to work here.”

“At The Beef?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, isn’t he a professional chef? Why don’t you let him?”

“C’mon, sweetheart, you’re supposed to be on my side.” He grumbled, pulling you down to sit on his thigh.

“I am on your side.” You chuckled. You took your thumb and rubbed gently at the spot between his eyes until the frustrated crease disappeared. “‘M just saying, he’s a trained chef, this is a restaurant. I don’t get what’s not adding up for you, baby.”

Michael sighed, looking up at you. He brushed a stray hair from your face and smiled up at you. You smiled back encouragingly, patiently waiting until he found the right words. “Carm doesn’t know.” He admitted.

“Carm doesn’t know…?”

“About the painkillers. And I don’t know if I’m ready to tell him.” His brow furrowed once more, making you frown. “I mean, he’s got three Michelin stars. The kid’s a fuckin’ genius in the kitchen — he doesn’t need to be around all this shit, all my shit.”

You let his words sink in, deep in thought as you stroked his hair. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you thought about all the stories Mikey and Richie told you about the youngest Berzatto. How he could be quiet and unassuming, but, with a little encouragement, always came out of his shell around family and friends. Maybe, for Carmen, it wasn’t about the restaurant.

“Maybe he just wants to see you.” You said pensively. “I mean it’s been how long since he’s been home?”

A scoff passed Michael’s lips. “A long fuckin’ time.”

“Maybe the restaurant is a pretense. I mean, he would come work at The Beef and stuff, but maybe he just wants to see you again. Hang out with his big brother like he used to.”

His thumb stroked your thigh as he looked at you, silently admired the way you seem to come in and make all his problems melt away with a single thought, a word, a smile. “What about the whole bein’ an addict part?” He asked.

“You don’t have to tell him right away.” You suggested. “Baby steps.”

“You are too fuckin’ good to me, y’know that?” He grinned back at you. When you rolled your eyes playfully, he pinched your side, making you jolt and laugh.

You pulled his arm around your waist, settling your hands at the nape of his neck. “So, you’re letting your brother work at the restaurant?”

“How ‘bout we just start with a visit, hm? I’ll tell him to come home for a week or somethin’, stay at mine.” He compromised. “Baby steps.”

“Oh, I’m so proud of you.” You cooed playfully, pinching his stubbly cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He swatted your hands away, leaning forward to press wet kisses to the column of your neck. He smirked as you suddenly ceased your pinching, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “You should let me return the favor, sweetheart.”

“Not in your office!” You gasped when he bit down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder before soothing it with his tongue.

“Why not?” He chuckled, lifting you onto his desk. He probably should have been a little more worried about his records and papers getting folded under the swell of your ass, but all he could focus on was the small strip of fabric covering the part of you he wanted to devour. “Wouldn’t you prefer I be addicted to my girl than painkillers?”

“That’s not, ah,” You jolted above him, the sensation of his thumb pressing into your sensitive clit knocking you back to your elbows, “That’s not funny, Mikey.”

“What’s Brayden say?” He muttered, pulling your panties to the side. His fingers expertly tugs your lips apart, and he pressed a soft teasing kiss to your hood-covered button. “Humor’s my coping mechanic.”

“M-mechanism.” The correction came out in a soft moan. Just then, his words hit you — his girl. He’d never said that before. All the times you’d kissed, made out, had sex, he’d never called you his girl. You liked the way it sounded, the way it rolled off his tongue effortlessly. “Your girl?”

“Yeah.” He pulled away, his hands finding your calves as he looked at you. His brown irises held the tiniest bit of vulnerability in them, an emotion reserved for you and you only. “I mean, if you wanna be. Do you?”

You smiled and encircled his wrists, tenderly stroking his skin with your thumbs. It was a simple touch, but it made the hairs on his arm stand at attention. Strange how you always managed to do that. “Of course I do.”

“Good.” He exhaled. His large hands slid up your inner thighs, pausing at your core. With a gentle touch, he tugged your folds apart, watching the way your entrance fluttered. His mouth dropped open, and he let his saliva drip down onto your pussy, rubbing it into your clit with the pad of his thumb. “Now, get comfy, sweetheart, ‘cause I missed this pretty little pussy.”

—

“Where is it? Where is it? Where the fuck is it?”

You’d torn your apartment apart. Old storage boxes that gathered dust were now open and emptied. Your clothes were thrown all over the place. You managed to push the couch and check the floor, but you found nothing but crumbs and linty hair ties.

Tears started to blur your vision, and your chest felt heavy, like the entire world sat directly on your lungs. Your breath was just as shaky as your hands that tugged at the roots of your hair. You ran to your mess of a kitchen and scrambled for your phone, typing the familiar number from memory.

Your ex-husband answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Where’s Eli?” You heard him call your name, but his confusion was the last thing on your mind. “Benson’s stuffed cow, Eli. Where is it? I can’t find it.”

He sighed, his voice lower and more scratchy than you remembered. He must’ve been crying, too, you thought. “How am I supposed to know?”

“You helped me move out. Did you take it? I swear to god—”

“I didn’t take the damn cow.” He snapped. “Do you think I’m that selfish that I would keep it from you?”

“I didn’t call to rehash our marriage, alright? I need Eli, okay? I need him.”

The line went silent. You both knew you weren’t talking about the stuffed animal anymore. He let out a deep breath. “Have you tried therapy?”

“I don’t need to pay a bunch of money to have someone tell me I need to get over the death of our child.” You hissed, scrunching your nose at the suggestion.

“Have you been to his grave?”

You wiped your tears away, thinking about the cold, unfeeling stone that solidified your son’s death. You hadn’t seen it since the funeral. You took a shaky breath, “Do you have Eli or not?”

“I don’t.”

He tried to speak once more, but you already hung up. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe without this one piece of your son. Tears dropped onto your phone screen as you scrolled and scrolled through your contacts, finding the name you were looking for. The line rang three times before a deep voice greeted you. “What’s up?”

“I need to see you. Where can we meet?”

Hours later, Michael was walking toward his apartment building with Carmy. He’d been purposefully avoiding bringing up The Beef, and luckily Carmy didn’t push. Instead, his little brother decided to bring up the little stuffed animal that Michael had pushed into his jacket pocket. “So,” Carmy started quietly, “You startin’ a collection with that thing or…?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Michael laughed. He pulled the stuffed cow out of his pocket. “It’s my girl’s. Remember I told you about her son?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes she likes to talk to me about him. She brought this over to my place a few weeks ago to show me. Apparently, the kid was obsessed with cows.”

“No shit. Look at you, bein’ vulnerable.” Carmy chuckled in amazement, admiring his brother’s new relationship.

“Yeah, whatever. The, uh, anniversary of his death is coming up, and she’ll probably be wanting this, so you can meet her while you’re here if she’s feeling up to it. Sound good?”

“‘F course.”

When Michael unlocked the front door, he was met with chaos. The front door banged into the coat closet door, somehow left open with coats strewn across the floor. The rug in his living room was flipped over, and the couch was now far from the wall. Michael was only brought back to reality by the stunned woah that passed through Carmy’s lips.

Somehow, Michael knew. He wasn’t a mind reader, but he remembered that feeling. A feeling that bubbled in the pit of his stomach, traveling throughout his body until it pounded at his head. It was dread, hopelessness, not knowing how he’d find the strength to take another breath. He knew, and he needed to help you.

“Di-Did someone break into your house or something?” Carmy asked, closing the door behind him.

“Just stay here for a second, little brother, okay?” Michael’s voice was dismissive, preoccupied, as he followed the trail of despair into the kitchen.

And there you sat. Red eyes, swollen from crying. Head lulling from side to side and your heart almost numb enough to keep the darkness from creeping in and making a home, uninvited, in the hole of your chest. Your arms circled around your knees that you’d drawn up to your chest, hugging them close. Maybe, if you squeezed hard enough, you could stop grieving and move on.

Michael approached slowly, like you were a wounded animal. “Baby?”

“I couldn’t stop myself.”

“We don’t have to—”

“Please don’t hate me.”

He crouched down in front of you, steadied your head with a firm hand on your cheek. His warm, calloused skin helped to ground the thoughts in your fuzzy head. He looked you in the eyes, bold and sincere, just as you had when he relapsed. “I could never hate you. Never, you hear me?”

You paused for a moment before trying to explain. “I couldn’t find Eli, and I just- I started going fucking crazy—”

“Eli?” He asked, pulling the stuffed cow from his pocket. “Sweetheart, I have Eli. You left him the time you came over a couple weeks ago, and I was gonna take him back to yours.”

Michael thought the knowledge would console you, warm your heart enough to give him just the tiniest hint of a smile. But you just threw your head back frustratedly, the impact against the wall causing a dull pain to crash through the back of your skull. “Fuck.”

“Baby, why—”

“I’m so stupid.”

“You’re no—”

Tears gathered once more. “If I had just called you… I’m an idiot.”

“Hey,” He regained your attention, this time with both hands holding your face steady. “You’re not stupid. You’re not an idiot. You just made a mistake, ‘s all.”

“I fucking relapsed, Michael.”

“I’ve relapsed, and look at me, huh? Picture of a healthy, law-abiding citizen.”

“Michael.”

“You’ll start over. Just like I did. Here, give me your phone.” You dug around in your pocket and pulled out your phone, handing it to him. He turned the screen toward you so you could watch as he scrolled through your contacts until he found your dealer’s name. Then, with zero hesitation, he blocked the number. “See? Good as new, yeah?”

If tears could show your appreciation, you’d have cried an ocean’s worth. But the most you could do was throw your heavy arms around his shoulders and press a chaste kiss to the base of his neck. To you, nothing you could ever do or say would be enough, but to Mikey? If he could take your burdens and make them his own, carry the weight of your world on his back, he’d do it without a second thought. Your appreciation wasn’t needed — only your love. And he knew he had that.

“Uh, Mikey?” Carmen’s voice called from the living room. “What the fuck is this?”

Michael reluctantly untangled himself from you for a moment, signaling for you to stay quiet. But you knew what was in there — you’d left the needle on his coffee table. Immediately, you could hear Mikey try to calm his brother down. “Carmen, it’s not what you think.”

“You sure? ‘Cause that looks like a fuckin’ needle. Jesus Christ, are you—”

“I’m not high, Carm, just listen for a second.”

“Listen to what?” His voice got louder, more angry. “Michael, are you fuckin’ serious? You know this family has… issues and this is what you do? Fucking shit!”

“Hey, relax, alright? You’re making a big deal out of nothin’.”

“Nothing? If you’re getting high, it is a big deal. A huge fuckin’ deal.” Carm pushed his brother on the chest, hoping it’ll knock some sense into him. And Michael, he just curled his fists, restraining himself. The last thing he wanted was to lose control on his own brother. Carmen took a step toward, pointing one accusatory finger.

But before he could get a word out, a small voice, your voice, stopped him. “It’s not his.”

Icy blue eyes met yours as he took in your disheveled frame. You stood in the entrance of the living room, leaning against the threshold to hold yourself up. The high was starting to wear off a little, but you still felt the lingering effects. You tried to give him a smile, but a weary sigh passed through your lips. “Hi Carmen. I’m sorry, this isn’t how I wanted to meet you.”

Carmen looked back and forth from you to Michael. His eyes narrowed as his breath started to even out, confusion replacing anger. “You’re the girlfriend, yeah?” He finally asked, confirming your name.

You nodded, gauging his reaction as he let it all sink in. “I had been sober for a while, so I asked your brother not to say anything. But today was- today was hard.”

“Right,” The younger brother nodded, finally taking a step back and pushing his hands deep into his pockets. “Uh, sorry for your loss, by the way.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“So, Michael isn’t… he’s not using…?” He knew the words, knew the question he wanted to ask. But he was so afraid, so terrified of what the answer might be.

You knew the answer. It would have been less than savory, admitting that Michael was also an addict and had relapsed more than once since you met. The truth was potentially earth-shattering for Carmen and Michael alike. You glanced over at Michael, at how he hid the fear from his eyes. Still, you see it. In the way his hand flexed at his side, and how he refused to look in your direction. It’s almost like he knew what was coming if you told the truth, that he might have lost his brother for good.

That fear broke your heart. So, you lied. Took your blame and a little on the side. “No. No, just me.”

You excused yourself back to the kitchen to hide your tears. You hugged Eli close, burying the stuffed animal under your nose.

It smelled like Michael.

—

That fucking fork.

Fuck forks. Fuck Christmas dinner. Fuck all seven fishes. Fuck Pete’s eighth fish. And, above all, fuck Michael.

Chaos ensued after Michael gave in to his self-destructive tendencies. He all but flipped the table over in an effort to fight. Fak was making sure Sugar and Pete got out unscathed. Carmy practically begged his mother to stay out of it, and she only relented when her eldest son started making taunting braying noises — she retreated to the kitchen with a cigarette and the bottle of merlot in hand.

You gave up trying to help Michael calm down when he wretched himself from your grip, nearly knocking you into a wall in the process. Richie rushed over to help steady you, and Carmy, over all the chaos, called your name, “Yo, are you alright?”

“Peachy.” You called back sarcastically, rubbing your sore arm.

Carmen then turned his attention to his brother. “Michael, shut the fuck up for two seconds, for fuck’s sake! If you don’t calm down, you’re gonna hurt someone!”

“Kinda the point, little brother.” Michael’s eye twitched as he glared at Lee. He tried once more to push past Jimmy to no avail.

“Yeah? Was hurting your girl part of the point, smartass?”

Michael turned to you, the anger in his eyes slowly overtaken with concern. He hadn’t meant to push you; he didn’t even know you were one of the people trying to hold him back. But that didn’t take back his actions. Your gaze went cold as you pulled away from Richie, pushing Michael hard on the chest. “I’m not his fucking girl anymore.”

Then, you hightailed it out of the house. Everyone went silent as you peeled out of the driveway, rubber squealing against pavement.

Richie watched Michael carefully, noticing how his brow furrowed and his chest heaved. He took a step toward him and dropped a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Mikey,” Richie warned, “Don’t do anything stupid.” Michael pulled away and stomped his way up the stairs, leaving Richie to call after his best friend from the dining room.

Over Richie’s voice, Carmen could hear his mother sobbing in the kitchen followed by the soft glug of wine as she turned the bottle up. And immediately, he followed after his older brother. Richie tried to stop him, “Cousin, he just needs a minute.”

“Yeah, just a minute?” Carmen replied dismissively. “Fuck off, cousin, he’s not a baby.”

He pushed open every door looking for Mikey. Finally, he came upon one door that wouldn’t budge, locked from the inside. Carmy pounded on the bathroom door. “Yo, what the fuck was that?”

“Go away, Carmen.” Mikey paced the bathroom floor, hands pulling at the roots of his hair. He wished he had an answer for his brother, but he came up short. Maybe it was pride, or ego, or his innate tendency to self-destruct, he couldn’t choose. So he just paced the floor, avoiding the sight of his own reflection.

“Mikey, you need to go downstairs and fix this shit, alright?” Carmy continued. “Ma’s drinking herself stupid, Sug’s a mess, your girl just fuckin’ left, c’mon man.”

“Hey, you think I don’t know that?” The older brother hissed.

He braced himself on the sink, finally looking up into the mirror. He looked disheveled, angry. His hair was messy from pulling at it, and the whites of his eyes had a red tint to them. One prominent vein pulsed in his forehead, and suddenly, the need set in.

His head is fuzzy, brain pounding at his skull. So many thoughts, too many, clouding his head. He lifted his hand to push away a few strands of his hair, limp with sweat, and he realized that his hand was shaking. Even as he closed his fingers into a fist, it trembled like an earthquake. He blinked hard, eyes scrambling as he tried to think of a quick solution, a way to gather himself before he faced his little brother again.

Carmy was quiet as he started to think maybe he should have listened to Richie. “Mikey?”

No answer.

“Mikey, look, I’m sorry—”

The door flung open, and Carmy studied him. His hair was pushed back. His eyes were red, but Carmy assumed Mikey must’ve been crying. Everything seemed right, but there was something he couldn’t place. Something about his big brother that was very wrong. “Nothing to be sorry for, Carm.” Michael told him, one big hand on his shoulder. “I gotta go.”

When Michael started booking it downstairs, Carmy was quick on his trail. “Wait, go? Go where?”

Michael responded with a call of your name, “Gotta make sure she’s good.”

Carmy ran a hand through his golden brown locks as he followed his older brother out the front door. Their sister noticed the argument and followed them out the door, “Whoa, hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Sug, go back inside.” Michael stopped for the briefest moment to turn around and place a kiss on his sister’s forehead.

“He’s leavin’.” Carmy sighed frustratedly.

“He’s leaving?” Sugar turned to Michael. “You’re leaving?”

“Fuckin’ snitch.” Michael mumbled under his breath. He squeezed Sug’s arm with a tight smile, “I’m just goin’ to find my girl, okay? I’ll be back, I promise.”

“How are you even going to find her?” Carm scoffed.

“You know her password, right?” Sug asked her eldest brother. “I wouldn’t normally say this, but you could track her phone. Here, give me yours.”

“What about Ma?” Carmy threw his arms up in defeat. Michael was the one who started all that mess, and now that it was time to pick up the pieces, where did he go? Chasing you. Like always, Carm thought to himself. “You’re the only one who can get through to her when she’s all…” He waved his hands around as if the devastating words he was looking for would magically appear.

“Well, you’re home, ain’t you? She missed you — just sit with her till I get back, alright? I gotta go.”

And just as quickly Mikey was off too, running toward the closest train station.

If there were ever a time for oxy, that would’ve been it. But instead, you drove and drove and drove until the tank was damn near empty. You pulled into a parking lot and called your sponsor. She talked you down, persuading you to delete your dealer’s contact information in your phone. When the long conversation was over, you were still angry, furious even, but you’d at least lost interest in relapsing.

Knock knock knock.

You jumped in the driver’s seat when calloused knuckles tapped on the car window. Michael wasted no time in starting an argument. “What the hell were you thinkin’, leavin’ like that?” He yelled, voice only slightly muffled by the barrier.

“How did you even find me?”

“Sugar showed me how to track your phone.”

“You tracked my phone?”

“Open the fuckin’ door.”

You pushed the door open and got out of the car, deciding your best course of action would be to walk away from him. “Leave me alone, Michael.”

“Where are you goin’?” He was quick to follow you as you walked down the street, just a few strides behind.

“Leave me alone.”

“What’s the plan here, huh?” He asked. “You just gonna keep walkin’ till your feet fall off?”

“No, just till I’m away from you, Michael.” You retorted coldly.

“Hey, stop calling me that.”

“That’s your name!”

“Not to you! To you it’s Mikey, or baby, or my love, not fuckin’ Michael!”

“Fuck you, Michael!” You caught him off guard when you spun around, poking your index finger into his chest. “You couldn’t just let it be. You had to ruin Christmas for the whole fucking family!”

“Why do you care so much, huh?”

“Why do I— Jesus, do you even hear yourself? You do nothing but ruin shit for yourself for no goddamn reason! No one forced you to throw that fork!”

Michael scoffed and ran his hand over his lips, his warm breath evaporating into the cold air as he raised his voice again. “So we’re gonna pretend that’s why you’re upset? Because of the fork?”

“I’m upset because you ruined any chance at having a good Christmas with our family!”

“They’re not our fuckin’ family.” He laughed, though no traces of humor could be found in his eyes. “They’re mine! Okay? I’m the fuckin’ Berzatto, not you.”

Your eyes widened at his words. You parted your lips to retort, but he just kept going, slicing your heart in two with expert precision.

“You wanna act like the- the chaos bothers you, but you thrive on that shit — You’re just in a shitty mood because you miss your own family, and now that you can’t replace them with mine, you want some fuckin’ oxy to ease the pain, ain’t that right?”

Smack!

You’d never hit Michael before, never wanted to. Like any couple, you had your share of fights and passive aggressive comments. One thing you two never did, though, was weaponize your addictions against each other. It was an unsaid invisible line that had never been crossed until now. Michael Berzatto, the man you loved more than life itself, had never been so mean. At least not to you.

It happened faster than you expected, your small hand reaching up and slapping across his stubbly cheek. He just stood there, eyes dark and slightly angry, but you weren’t afraid. You were furious, hot tears filling your eyes. “Fuck you.”

You slapped him again. And again. Then, you beat on his chest with your fists. Michael started trying to swat your hands away, but when that proved ineffective, he caught your wrists in his hands, yanking you into a nearby alley, away from the night’s few prying eyes.

“Stop, stop.” He grunted when you landed another smack to his head, finally pinning you up against the nearby brick wall by your wrists. “Stop.”

“I hate you.” You spat.

“No, you don’t.”

You continued to fight against his grip, but he was strong and steady, keeping you in place as you continued to tell him how much you despise him. He knew he was wrong, but he refused to say it. After all the shit that went down that night with his family, with you, he felt like he was going crazy. It was like he was abandoned in the middle of the ocean in a boat with a tiny hole. And even though the hole was small, it was so methodically cut that water was pouring in like a faucet, and the boat was sinking. So he grabbed onto the only lifeline he was certain would be there: you.

You, with the most beautiful eyes that were now filled with angry tears. You, the hero of all his dreams and the victim in all his nightmares. You, whose heart was so broken, so crumbled when he met you, yet still managed to love him with all your being.

He loved you.

It all hit him at once, and he gently pressed his lips to yours. You turned your head away from him, rasping out your hatred once more. “I hate you.”

“You don’t.” His voice was deep and rough, but the tone was soft. Was he even talking to you?

“Yes, I fucking do.”

His lips trailed across your jawline, wet kisses placed on his path. “No, you don’t.”

You hated how easily he was able to do this to you, like pushing a button. You were supposed to be angry with him. You were angry with him. But your body didn’t care about the argument. Your body slowly gave up the fight against his grip, wanting the heat that his touch produced, your emotions be damned. A few tears fell from your eyes just as a soft moan slipped past your lips, an instinctive response to the way Michael’s body pressed yours against the wall, his growing length pressed into your hip.

He slipped a leg between yours, pushing his denim-covered thigh into your pussy. You could feel a wave of arousal soaking your panties. “You’re mean, Michael.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He admitted quietly.

He used his grip on your wrists to gently pull your hands to your breasts. He pressed your hands in before covering them with his own, helping you knead the sensitive flesh. Even beneath your layers, you could feel his touch, and it made you whimper. His deft thumb ran over your hardening nipples, and a soft groan tumbled from his lips. “Just let me make you feel good.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you noted his acknowledgement. And his lack of apology.

He kept up his movements, moving your hands to squeeze your breasts, pressing his thigh into your weeping pussy. Somewhere along the way, your hips began to rock back and forth on him. His brown eyes never left yours, even as you cried. It was strange, how your heart hurt so badly that tears fell freely down your face, but your body was pushed closer and closer to the edge.

Still, you gasped for breath as the pleasure began to creep out of your core. “Mi- Mikey,” You moaned. “Please!”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby. Let it all out.”

And it all came out at once, sobs pushing past your lips as euphoria crashed over your body in waves. You clenched around nothing, head tipping back to hit the brick wall. But you never felt the cold brick — one of Michael’s hands left your breast to cup the back of your head, the protective gesture juxtaposing the unending push of his thigh into your pussy to help ride out your orgasm.

Even as your orgasm faded away, your hips continued to buck against him. Your hands found a new home on his broad chest, trailing down, down, down until you felt the leather of his brown belt. You wasted no time in unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, sliding the zipper down so you could easily reach into his briefs and pull his cock out. He moaned at your firm grasp, hips bucking into your touch.

Everything moved much quicker now, more desperate than before. You stroked his cock, spreading his precum along the shaft. His forehead pressed against yours as he stared at the way your smaller hand worked him over, twisting over the head on every downward stroke. “Fuck, that’s good.” He groaned.

“Help me.” You whined needily as you thrust your hips against his thigh once more, hoping he’d get the message.

He nodded quickly, kneeling down in front of you. His big hands slide up your thighs under your jean skirt, flipping the rough fabric up over your belly. Your legs were covered by sheer black stockings, a layer of protection from the cold winter chill. But neither of you could bear to wait, to take them off properly. He tore a large hole in the crotch and pushed your panties to the side, muttering curses at how your arousal shone in the moonlight.

“Perfect fuckin’ cunt, sweetheart.” He pushed his index finger through your swollen lips, collecting your juices before slipping into your twitching hole. “Can you take two for me?”

He didn’t bother to wait for an answer. He pushed his middle finger in on the second thrust, curving them to press on that spongy spot on your upper wall that you can never reach yourself. You cried out his name, and your back arched off the wall. His fingers were bigger than yours, thicker too, but they still didn’t fill you the way that you needed.

You whimpered when he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking firm and hard. “Want your cock, Mikey. Want- oh shit!”

Your orgasm was hard and unexpected, pulling you under before you could even tell him to fuck you. Your legs buckled, and you buried your hands in his thick, black hair to ground yourself. A muffled moan came from between your legs when you tugged on the roots, trying to pull him off your sensitive clit.

He finally relented, pulling away from you and pushing his fingers, soaked in you, into his mouth. He licked them clean without hesitation, only stopping when you tugged on his wrist. You pulled him in by his shirt, kissing him. It was deep and passionate, proving what you both knew to be true.

You didn’t hate him. Maybe you wanted to, but you didn’t. Or maybe couldn’t is the better word.

He cupped your face with both his large hands, wiping away any remnants of tears from your earlier sobs. His tongue licked into your mouth as you moaned, tasting the sweet tang of your juices in his saliva. You reached down to stroke his cock again, and he crowded you closer to the wall. “Want you inside.” You whispered.

“I know, baby.”

His open jeans impeded his efforts to get closer to you, buttons, zipper, and belt now in the way. His hands hurried to push the waistband of his open jeans down and out, ignoring how the frosty air raised goosebumps on his skin. His belt buckle jingled loudly, and something clattered to the pavement, but you could only focus on getting him inside you. His hands returned to your face, making you keep your gaze on his.

You pushed his cock through your pussy lips, let your arousal messily coat his shaft until it was all over your inner thighs. Both your panting was the only thing you could hear over the wet sounds of his length sliding between your swollen lips. You whined when the head of his dick bumped against your clit.

“Guide me in, sweetheart.” He told you, eyes locked on yours. “Take what you want.”

His head, already weeping with precum, nudged at your entrance, and you canted your hips up until the first few inches sunk inside. You lifted your leg around his hip in an attempt to take more of him, but it wasn’t enough on your own. Finally, he pressed forward, fully sheathing his cock within your soft walls. All the while, Michael held your face between his hands, gazing deep into your eyes as you whimpered. “There you are.” He groaned softly. “My girl.”

Your heart twisted at his words. How could he even say that? After saying the most vile things to you, what made him believe that you’d still be his? He nudged his hips forward a bit, and the tip just barely kissed your cervix, shooting a strange blend of pain and pleasure up your spine. You shook your head, hands grasping at his arms to steady yourself. “No, I… I- fuck, Mikey, I hate you so much.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” You moaned pathetically, still seething, angry enough to lie through your teeth just to give him a glimpse of the pain he caused you. Your nails dug into the thick fabric of his coat as he began to move, thrusting in and out of your cunt. The alley practically echoed with squelching sounds, and anyone walking by would know what was going on in those shadows. But neither of you could bring yourselves to care, lips falling apart as your sensitive walls clamped down on his length.

“You don’t fuckin’ say that to me.” He repeated with a grunt, leaving the tiniest pat on your cheek to regain the attention of your eyes rolling in pleasure. “You love me. Know you do. ‘S — shit, you’re so tight — ‘s the only thing I’m goddamn sure of, you hear me?”

One hand left your cheek to wrap around your thigh, pulling your leg higher around his hip. He thrusted again with renewed strength before looking down to where you both connected. The sight made the pit of his stomach flip deliciously: the slightly tanned base of his cock coated with a creamy white ring, little strands of your wetness dangling between you both when he dared to pull his hips away. “Fuckin’ takin’ my dick so well, baby.” He bit his lip, his voice sounding almost entranced. “Squeezin’ like you don’t want me to leave.”

“Good thing I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He continued, groaning when your hands slid up his back and into his hair. You pulled hard, and his thrusts faltered ever so slightly. His other hand left your cheek to brace himself against the wall, and his head fell into the crook of your neck, puffs of his hot breath warming your skin.

“You can’t keep doing this shit, M-Mikey. Can’t take your shit out on me.” You mewled as he adjusted his grip on you, pushing you closer to the wall. He left you no space to squirm when his hips started to move faster, his cock bullying its way in and out of your soft, puffy folds to nudge against the spongy spot on your upper wall. You cried out as that unique sensation shot pleasure to every nerve ending in your body, “Fuck, right there!”

“I got you, sweetheart, that’s it.” He responded in kind, adjusting his stance just right so he could drag the notch of his cockhead along your G-spot with every thrust. “Right there, yeah?”

“Oh my god, don’t stop. You’re gonna make me come!”

Michael lifted his head from your neck, meeting your eyes again. They were dark, glazed over, as he slowed his hips, still moving but not enough to finish you off. You felt his cock twitch inside you, and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he flooded your insides with his release, but he wanted to hear you say it: he wanted you to take back your words. “Say you don’t mean it.”

Your pussy fluttered around him in tandem with the whine spilling past your lips. “Mikey—”

“You don’t hate me. You love me. Say it.” He punctuated each sentence with a nudge against your G-spot, soft and tempting.

“N-no, you,” You heaved out a shuddering breath when his fingertips met your swollen clit, rubbing in tight, slow, torturous circles. “You’re being unfair. You- oh my god, yes - you can’t be n-nasty to me and—”

“Just say it for me, baby.” He mumbled against your lips. He was practically begging you to take it back, but, of course, Michael Berzatto would never stoop to such lengths. So, he kept rubbing your clit and nudging your G-spot, punching the breath out of you with his thick cock. “Promise I’ll make you come. I’ll make it so fuckin’ good for you. Just need to hear it.”

And, of course, as you always did, you gave in. “I didn’t mean it.” You admitted breathlessly. “I love you.”

The tension visibly rolled off his shoulders as his head dropped to your breasts, pounding your cunt as you moaned beneath him. “Fuck, I love you, too, baby. Love you so fuckin’ much, it hurts.” He groaned into your skin.

“Mikey, ‘m close!” You gasped, the assault on your cunt and clit too much to bear.

“Wanna feel you squeeze my cock, sweetheart.” He huffed, nails digging into your thighs, your stockings providing no refuge from the dull pain. “Show me how much you love me, c’mon.”

And then, white-hot, earth-shattering pleasure. You nearly blacked out as you clenched around him, stars burning into supernovas behind your eyelids. Your fluttering walls begged him to stay buried deep inside you. Back arched against the wall, your breasts pushed closer to his face, and he didn’t bother lifting up, resting his cheek on the soft fabric that covered your warm flesh as he fell over the edge with you. He groaned out your name as he shot thick spurts of his warm, sticky come inside you. He knew he’d never come so much in his life, only lifting his head when he heard louder squelching noises from where you both connected.

As he thrusted, slow and deep, the white creamy juices that once only circled the base of his cock dribbled out of your pussy, around the sides of his length. A bit slid down your thigh, and his eyes rolled back, reveling in how his balls pulsed with pleasure at the sight.

His whole body relaxed as you both rode out the waves of pleasure. As you came down from your orgasm, your head lolled to the side. Your eyes fluttered closed as you cherished his weight on top of you. When your eyes opened, your vision was still a tad blurry, but you blinked through the fog.

There was something bright on the ground. It was small, cylindrical, and… red? No — it was orange.

“What’s that?”

Michael hummed in response, his speech a bit slurred. “What’s what?”

He lifted his head from your breasts, following your gaze. And he froze, eyes stuck on the tiny bottle of painkillers he’d swiped from his mother’s medicine cabinet after you left. It must have fallen from his pocket when he opened his jeans.

“Are you high right now?”

Michael almost cringed at your whisper. It was different from all your yelling and slapping and arguing before. You were just mad then, and he knew that he could win you over like he had a million times before. This time, it was sad. Cold. Disappointed.

He wasn’t sure if he could come back from that.

You wriggled beneath him until you could push him away, watching him stumble a bit. He was no longer standing tall, a bit slouched, and he swayed aimlessly from side to side. With the way he was fucking you, his blood was pumping, so they must just now be kicking in at full force. You knew — you were certain of the answer, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“Michael. Are you high?”

He had just enough of his wits left to take a step toward you with remorse in his voice, “Baby, I—”

You held up a hand, taking a step away from him. “I… I’ll call Richie. You can stay with him tonight. Or your mother, I don’t….” He called your name again as you fixed your panties and pulled your skirt back down over your ass. “I can’t do this with you right now, Michael.”

You waited for a moment. For what, you weren’t sure. An apology? An explanation? An unremorseful tirade? Part of you would have even been okay with a fight.

But he just leaned against the brick wall, unable to support himself on his own any longer. He clumsily tucked his softening length back into his pants and mumbled his short reply, a correction. “‘S Mikey.”

Snow began to fall in time with your tears. You drew your coat closer, and turned your back to him. “I’m going home.”

—

“Besides work, how’ve you been feeling?”

“I don’t know, just extremely tired all the time. But what else is new, y’know?”

“And how’s your love life?”

“This is your way of asking if I’m still sleeping with Michael.”

“Well, are you?”

You let out a scoff as you adjusted your position on the couch. Your therapist, Deborah, watched you with knowing eyes as you sat against the arm of the couch, offhandedly pulling a throw pillow into your lap. Your index finger wrapped endlessly around the fringe as you carefully mulled over your words. “Well, I haven’t relapsed in almost a year and a half.”

“That’s good.” She smiled. “Also not what I asked.”

“Okay, I’m still seeing him. Or, sleeping with him.”

“So, it’s not a relationship?”

“No.”

“Do you want it to be?”

You paused. You thought about the possibilities of what could have been — of what once had been. Dates, family dinners, shared apartment. Maybe you’d have gotten married and had kids. You’d have brought them up to be better, to break the cycle of whatever crazy shit made you both the way you were. But you also had to accept who he was.

You replied, “No.” It was a lie, and Deborah knew that, but you played it off anyway.

She leaned forward, setting her notepad down and resting her elbows on her knees. “Is he still using?”

You nodded reluctantly, “He says he’s not. And he hasn't been high around me since the, uh, Christmas dinner thing last year. But I’ve seen it… pill bottles lying around. Prescriptions that aren’t his.”

You trail off, once again running through what might have been. Would Michael still be sober if you stayed with him? Were you the only thing keeping him from losing his mind? Were you to blame? Your finger slowed around the fringe, heart aching in your chest.

Deborah gave you a cautionary look, like she could read your mind. “Stop it.”

You sighed, “But what if—”

“Michael is a grown man. His sobriety is his responsibility, and his alone. Just like yours.” She repeated the same words that she did almost every session, reminding you that you were not at fault. “I know it hurts, and it’s okay to let it, but you cannot blame yourself for his decisions.”

“I just- I miss him. How he used to be. But if this is all I can get…” You feel pathetic for even admitting it, but it was the truth.

Deborah watched you carefully, knowing that there wasn’t much she could do but advise you. You were going to see Michael whether it was a good idea or not. So she figured you should know what you’re really getting into. She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “Do you know what codependency is?”

Your brow furrowed, “No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“It’s when two people depend on each other in an unhealthy way. Usually, one person learns to placate the other, keep them calm, while the other person continues unhealthy behaviors because they know their partner will be there to help them when it gets too bad.”

“Okay, I see where you’re going here. It’s not healthy for me—”

“It’s not healthy for either of you.” She clarified. “I know you love Michael. And I’m sure he loves you as much as he can. But I think the best way for you to help him and yourself — if that’s what you want to do — is to stop enabling him.”

Stop enabling him.

That’s all you could think about for the rest of the session. Those three words terrified you. How would he react if you put your foot down, if you said this needed to stop? What if he never spoke to you again? You loved him, the man that put your heart back together when it was in a million shattered pieces. You were lost, unsure of how to handle the situation.

Twenty minutes later, when you left your therapist’s office, your phone dinged with a text. It was Michael, as usual;

u busy tonight? wanna see u.

And of course, you gave in. But not without thinking up a plan. You took a deep breath and typed out your reply:

meet me in the parking lot off fourth street at 7:30. wanna take u somewhere.

And you tried to hold out, you really did. But no sooner than you arrived, Michael’s lips were on your neck, sucking and licking, making it hard to think. Before you could even remember Deborah’s warning, you were in the backseat of his car, fogging up the windows as you bounced up and down on his cock. “‘M gonna come!” You warned him.

“Go on, sweetheart.” He encouraged with a groan, strong hands plastered flat against your sweaty back. “Tight cunt’s gonna pull the come right outta me.”

“Fuck, ‘m coming, Mikey!” You whimpered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. His hands gripped your hips, grinding you down on his cock to ride out your orgasm. Your clit bumped deliciously against his pubic bone, and your walls clamped down even tighter, throwing Michael headfirst into his own orgasm.

“Holy- oh my god, don’t fuckin’ stop, baby.” He moaned, throwing his head back. His hips pushed up of their own accord, his thick cock twitching inside you as he shot his come as deep as he could go. He brought one hand down on your ass as you thrusted weakly against him. “That’s it, sweetheart, get every drop.”

You rested your weight on him, your sweaty forehead against the leather headrest. You both took a silent moment to catch your breath, regroup after the explosive sex you always seem to have. Turns out, even with all your disagreements, the attraction never stopped. His hands rubbed up and down your back, almost lulling you to sleep until he pressed his fingertips a little harder, and a moan passed through your lips, eyes shooting open. Michael chuckled deeply and kneaded at that spot, “What was that?”

“Fuck, I don’t know.” You admitted, tension rolling away as he worked at the knot. “My back has been killing me lately.”

“Work?”

“Maybe, but ‘m not sure. Just hurts sometimes.”

“Lucky for you, you got your own personal masseuse.”

You snorted, “My hero.”

His hand smacked against your backside playfully, making you jolt on his lap with a giggle. He laughed along with you, “Watch that tone, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, laughter dying down as your eyes haphazardly scanned the ledge of the back window. And next to an empty cup, you saw a piece of paper. A prescription made for Natalie Berzatto.

And it hit you like a train. You couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t fair to either of you. You couldn’t keep taking the best parts of him and ignoring the fact that he needed help. And he couldn’t expect you to be around at his beck and call forever. The time for playing pretend was over — you needed to take a real step for the both of you.

You swung your leg over his lap and sat next to him, scanning the car floor for your panties. “Get dressed. I still have somewhere to take you.”

“You kidnappin’ me, baby?”

“It’s only kidnapping if you don’t go willingly.”

Minutes later, you were walking into a nearby building. The entire walk, he asked and asked where you were taking him, but you never answered, merely saying it was a surprise. When he walked in, and his eyes fell on the folded chairs set in a circle, his smile dropped. Without another word, he turned around and walked out.

“Michael, wait!” You were close behind, following him back outside into the hot, sticky summer night. “Just listen to me, okay?”

“So- so you think ‘cause you’re sober now you can do whatever the fuck you want, is that it?” He asked, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“I’m just trying to help—”

“I told you I wasn’t fuckin’ using anymore!” He yelled at you.

“And I know that you are!” You snapped back. “I’ve seen the empty pill bottles, Michael. All the prescriptions that are never in your own fucking name. I’m not stupid!”

“Stupid enough to keep comin’ back!” He spat at you. “W-what changed, huh? Is it the therapist? ‘Cause before her, you were happy to just fuck me and leave, pills be damned.”

“Oh, fuck that, Michael.” You laughed humorlessly, pushing at his chest. “You are not doing that anymore, being a dick to me because you can’t accept the truth.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what would the truth be, sweetheart? Fuckin’ enlighten me.”

“That you’re gonna fucking destroy yourself if you don’t get help!” You shouted. Tears were filling your eyes at the thought, and you realized you weren’t even angry. You were desperate — desperate for him to do something, anything to help himself. “You- you push everyone that loves you away! Me, Richie, Carm—”

“You leave Carmen outta this.” He grumbled, looking away to avoid seeing the tears that fell down your face.

“Everyone that cares, everyone that tries to help, you just treat them like complete and utter shit because you don’t know how to ask for help! But you don’t have to fucking ask, Mikey — we’re offering! You just have to take it and do something before it’s too late!”

Michael was quiet, eerily so. There was a time when you would’ve been able to read him like a book, to say exactly what he needed to hear. But you couldn’t anymore. And that scared you.

You stepped forward with a sniffle, placing your hands on his biceps. You rubbed up and down in a way that you hoped was comforting. “Just one meeting. That’s all I’m asking.”

When he finally looked back at you, his chest tightened at the sight. Your beautiful eyes, filled with tears and a shimmer of hope that he might agree. And part of him wanted to. Some inkling deep down inside of him wanted to wipe your tears, take your hand, and march into that meeting determined to stay sober for the rest of his life. If only to settle down and make a life with you, one that he could be proud of.

But, as always, something stopped him. A small doubt creeping in, telling him he couldn’t do it. That he wasn’t capable of normality, that it wasn’t in his blood. He was drowning in sorrow and pity, and he was willing to accept that darkness — welcomed it, even. But what kind of man would he be if he dragged you under with him? He cupped your face in his hands, shaking his head. Your hands slid up his forearms and stopped on his wrists with a desperate iron grip. His voice was barely a whisper, “I’m not going to that meeting, baby.”

“Mikey, please.” You begged. “I love you.”

“You can’t fix me.” He hoped you heard what he meant to say: I love you, too.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and responded in kind. It was gentle, melancholic, but it was his way of saying goodbye. His way of expressing the love that he could never quite show you in the way you deserved. But the love was there nonetheless, tearing at his heart until his chest was hollow, nothing left but the memory of you.

When he pulled away, he had to pry your hands off him and take a step back. He gave you a sad smile, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Enjoy your meeting, sweetheart.”

He turned around and walked away. A few tears escaped his eyes when he heard a heart-wrenching sob pass through your lips. He wiped them away quickly and tried to walk faster.

He was gone the next month.

—

“We’re closed!”

“Maybe you should lock the door then.”

You were still in your black dress and heels when you arrived at The Beef. No one knew where Carmy was, but you’d had an idea in the back of your head. You weren’t sure if you were right, but it only made sense that he’d be at his brother’s restaurant.

Well, at the restaurant his brother left him.

When Carmy emerged from the back, he stared, his eyes red from crying. “How’d you know I was here?”

You shrugged, “This is usually where I’d find him too.”

“Yo, please, please don’t come in here with that sentimental bullshit, alright?” He said, his tone sharp and mean. “If I wanted to hear about how great he was, I would’ve gone to the funeral.”

“You should’ve been there anyway. He was your brother.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, Carmen, I didn’t come here to pick a fight.”

He turned on his heel, stomping back to the kitchen, and you followed close behind. “What did you come for then?”

“We’re going to a meeting.”

Carmy kneeled on the floor, next to a bucket of soapy water and a wet rag. He picked it up and wrung it out with a grunt. “What are you talking about?”

“Would you prefer NA or AA?”

He was scrubbing at the same dirty spot that he had for the last hour and a half, but your question made him pause. He looked up at you in disbelief, letting out a scoff. “Excuse me?”

“There are two NA groups I know of, but only one AA, and it starts soon so—”

“Y’know, you’re the addict here, not me.”

“Which is exactly how I know you need to go to a meeting.”

He was seething, an angry red steadily creeping from his neck to his face, one prominent vein bulging in his forehead as he shouted at you. “Goddamnit, I don’t need to go to a fuckin’ Al-Anon meeting! I’m just grieving, alright?!”

“Carm—”

“No, fuck that. The whole reason I didn’t go to the funeral is so I wouldn’t be around that bullshit! You know how Ma gets, and without Mikey here to fix it…”

“Michael was never gonna fix your mother.”

“Right, ‘cause he was too busy trying to fix you.” Carmen let out a harsh chuckle. “‘I’ll call you back, my girl needs me. Hold on, my girl is on the other line.’ Instead of fixing his restaurant, or-or helping his mother, he was making sure you were on the right track. Making sure you don’t relapse.”

Your heart stopped. Your blood burned. You wanted to let loose on him then and there. Yell and shout and cry about how Michael could barely fix himself, let alone you. You wanted to tell Carmen that it was you who desperately tried to fix Michael, make him sober, turn him into the man you knew he could be. Or at least, the one you believed he could be. The man Carm thought he was.

It baffled you how the entire family managed to hide the fact that Michael was an addict from Carmy. But it was a group effort, a last ditch effort to give him the big brother he’d always wanted, the one he remembered from his childhood. He was truly blind to Michael’s true nature, but you knew it was partially because Carmy had his own thing going on. You could see it behind his eyes — it was the same look Michael got before he did something self-destructive.

Instead of yelling or screaming like you wanted to, tears filled your eyes. You knew from experience the Berzatto men could be mean, especially under pressure, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Unlike earlier in the day, you couldn’t hold them back. Tears fell freely down your cheeks.

But unlike when his older brother spat unkind words your way, Carmy didn’t try to distract you from it or talk his way out of it. No, his face dropped when he realized the severity of his words. He watched as your knees buckled beneath you, moving across the floor to catch you once an ugly sob wretched its way past your lips. He held you as your body shook with the emotions that you’d been ignoring all day. One of his hands rested on the back of your head, stroking your hair with his thumb. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, okay?”

You don’t know how long you cried. You just sobbed and sobbed until there was nothing left, until you felt completely and utterly empty. Luckily, Carmy helped you sit on the floor. He sat next to you, both your backs against the dishwasher. It creaked loudly under your combined weight, and you sat up. “Sorry,” You croaked out. “Should I not lean on that?”

Carmy chuckled quietly and drew his knees up, resting his forearms atop them. “Piece of shit doesn’t work, don’t worry about it.”

The tiniest smile tugged at your lips as you leaned back and wiped away your tears. “Good. For me, I mean. Sucks for business though.”

His smile faded away as he watched you wipe your tears. His stomach turned uncomfortably at the fact that he’d been so mean, that he’d made you cry. He knew, of course, that he wasn’t the only reason you broke down, but he didn’t like that he piled on. He called your name softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

“Carm, it’s ok—”

“It’s not.” He shook his head, blue eyes piercing into yours. “You were right. Michael couldn’t fix Ma’s problems. And you didn’t need him to fix yours. He was lucky to have you.”

A sigh passed through your lips, and for the first time in a long time, tension rolled off your shoulders. “He loved you, Carmen.”

He fought back a sad smile, “He loved you, too.”

You paused, tears of grief filling your eyes before you remembered what you came for. You took a deep breath and wiped at your cheeks. “I need to show you something.”

His brow furrowed, turning a bit to face you, resting one leg on the ground. “What?”

You grabbed your phone from your pocket and pulled off the case. You lifted the strip of film from your rubber case, handing it to him. “This is why I need to go to an NA meeting tonight. Figured you could go with me.”

A hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes, Carmy let out a single quiet sob as he stared at the two black and white ultrasounds. “Is it…?”

You nodded, “They are.”

“They?”

“Turns out, you can’t forget to take birth control for even one day. I thought taking two the next day might help, but here we are.” Chuckling quietly, you wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall once more. “I’m not… I’m not asking you to replace Mikey or be their dad or anything. It would… y’know, just be nice not to do this by my—”

“Woah, hey,” He stopped you with a shake of his head, not even wanting you to think like that. “You’re family, period. Have been since Michael brought you home. And always will be. Alright?”

Finally, a sliver of hope. You smiled, “Yeah.”

“Good.” He handed the photos back to you gently, as if one wrong move would ruin them. Then, he stood on his feet, wiping a hand over his face and taking a deep breath. He offered his hand. “Now, come on. I’m taking you to your meeting.”

#michael berzatto x reader #michael berzatto fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear smut #sorry in advance for this one lol

405 notes · View notes

pablitogavii · 8 months

Note

as you know gavi has a cut on his ear because of a foul and he returned back on the pitch. reader and gavi fight a lot because of this. reader is worried of his physic health and when he came back home they fight but with fluffy end

Worry

"Amor, you're being unreasonable! I need to go to Madrid! The team needs me!" Pablo and you were arguing abut his ear injury and the fact that the national team suggested he should consider taking a break to heal.

"Even the coaches said you should take it easy! You have three staples in your ear Pablo!" you said really worried when the doctor suggested about possible infection if he's not careful.

"Can you just let me do what I want!? Why do you care anyways!?" Pablo yelled feeling his ear getting sensitive and you sighed looking down sadly. He was so stubborn and you were so worried about him.

"Because I love you, cabrón!" you said pulling away when he tried to reach for your hand and walked out to travel back home to Barcelona.

"Ready to go Gavi??" Yamal called and Pablo sighed looked after you as you got into the car before leaving to the bus with his friend towards Madrid.

pablitoo❤️: pls don't be mad at me amor 🥺

pablitoo❤️: you know what this means to me

pablitoo❤️: i have to try and help my team

When you arrived home, you laid on the sofa watching some TV when your phone rang with Pablo's messages. You were not mad because of the stupid argument you had, but because he never takes care of himself properly.

You wanted to answer him but your phone died so you had to charge it first. During that time, Pablo was at the first training and he was dealing with impossible pain in his ear unable to properly concentrate on the game.

"Que pasaba contigo hermano?" Laporte asked Pablo who shrugged and started massaging his temple from the pain that started to become unbearable.

"Deberías haber escuchado a tu chica, hermano. Necesitas recuperarte." [You should have listened to your girl, brother. You need to recover.] man told him and Pablo knew he was right. When they first saw each other, he told him about the fight you had and he was going crazy that you weren't answering his messages.

He hated fighting with you especially seeing you sweet innocent eyes when you would look at him worried about his health. That same night, Pablo took a trip back to Barcelona anxious to see you again.

When he finally arrived at your shared apartment, it was the middle of the night and you were sleeping in your shared bedroom. Pablo smiled when he saw you wearing one of his big shirts and hugging his pillow while sleeping peacefully. He saw your phone charging knowing that's why you haven't seen his messages.

Pablo, you cabrón! She looks so adorable right now and you made her upset because of your stupid stubbornness!

"Amor..wake up" Pablo gently shook your body and you jumped a little afraid of who could be touching you in the middle of the night when Pablo wasn't home.

"Shh..shh.it's me preciosa..i'm home" Pablo said caressing your face while you calmed down sitting up and hugging him quickly as he pulled you onto his lap holding you tightly. Ah, how he missed having you in his arms like this.

"What are you doing home Pablito?? Did something happen?" you asked worried and he shut you up with a kiss reassuring you that he was alright.

"I couldn't stand you being mad at me..and you were right, I need to recover properly before playing again. I'm sorry preciosa" he said and you smiled nodding your head and kissing his lips again while he moved his hand underneath the t-shirt you were wearing and caressed your naked back gently.

When you laid down, you on top of him, he enjoyed touching your warm skin and smelling your freshly washed hair. This felt like home and Pablo could finally relax.

"I've missed you a lot your know..the way you smell..and feel..and even when you give me attitude..I've been craving it so bad" Pablo said and your cheeks were blushing as you looked up into his warm hazel eyes.

"It's all because I worry about you.." you say and he nods knowing that already and feeling really grateful for you in his life. He kissed your forehead lovingly and then your lips.

"I've never had anybody worry about me the way you do preciosa..so please never stop no matter what I say" he asks and you smiled nodding you head before moving up on top of him and kissing your his chin to his lips sideways to his cheek and finally to his ear.

"I promise.." you whisper into his ear before kissing around his stitched and he let you smiling wide enjoying every second of attention you were giving him now.

"What are you doing with me preciosa.." he said with a smirk and you looked into his eyes blushing while kissing him lips again feeling his strong biceps with your arms.

"Helping you recover mi rey.." you said and Pablo felt proud as he smirked nodding his head and letting you do as he please knowing that he made the right decision coming back home to his love.

#pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi icons #gavira #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavixreadersmut

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

aita for calling my roommate crazy?

I (28f) live with 2 other people, a former college roommate who I’m pretty close with (29f) and 2nd roommate (28nb) who we both met when we moved in together 2 years ago.

Let me start this out by saying, this isn’t a fandom aita, it’s going to sound a bit weird at first, but bear with me.

I have a medical condition (relevant later) which stopped most of my bones from maturing past puberty (growth plates closing, cartilage not hardening into bones, ect.), so my skeleton is basically stuck somewhere between 13-19, (I look about 17-19, but the last time I tried to buy hard cider, the cashier thought I was 14, so that’s how young I can look). I also have very pale skin (unrelated to my disorder, just a ginger), and (related to my disorder) lack some liver enzymes so I need eat meat or I get sick (the same reason why cats need to eat meat), I ended up in the ER when I lived with my vegan sister for a week and ate the same veggie diet as her.

Trouble is, Roommate 2 is really into conspiracy theories and other fringe stuff. Nothing alt-right or anything, just like, (for example) they fully bought into that Mermaids: the body found show, and wouldn’t be dissuaded, even when Roommate 1 googled it and showed them solid proof that it was fictional. Wholeheartedly believes the US government preformed 9/11, does alternative medicine (homeopathy, ect), wishes there were ‘all natural’ vaccines (still isn’t an anti-vaccer though, just needs to be persuaded that Bill Gates didn’t put microchips in them).

Anyway, Roommate 1 and I have a recurring joke that I’m a vampire because of the meat thing and the pale thing and the not aging thing. Roommate 2 overheard us and laughed, but weirdly. She kinda joked along with us, but she seemed...odd. About a week later, they start asking me stuff about being a vampire. But they seemed friendly and not nervous then and I was hoping they were just joking and I also sincerely thought they were just asking me about how vampires work on one of my shows (I’m a big fan of Carmilla and the Originals), so I tried to explain, but I cited each show when I’m explaining a thing. This continued for several weeks, but getting worse and more weird every time, eventually culminating about 2 and a half months later into them asking me more stuff about life as a vampire and I really realised that they were serious. Bear in mind, Roommate 1 and I were trying to be very clear that we don’t believe in vampires this whole time because we both know how Roommate 2 is about this. As a result, this was the first time I really registered that they seriously seemed to genuinely believe I was a vampire. I firmly told them that I am not a vampire and that vampires aren’t real, they’re fun to joke about, but they aren’t real. They implored me ‘to be straight with them about being a vampire,’ and that ‘I could trust them,’ and I’m ashamed to say, I kinda freaked out at this point, cuz I was afraid that they would be scared of me and maybe try to hurt me, since they seemed kinda unstable because of this.

This is where I think I was an asshole, I am usually very sensitive to mental health issues. I have some c-PTSD myself and there are a lot of mental health issues in my family (unfortunately, I think some history with my own mentally ill father may have made me react this way, since he has very similar issues to Roommate 2 (vaccines, alternate medicines, specifically involving me in his delusions) and I had a very bad experience in my early teens where he thought I was a demon and ‘sent to destroy him’). Anyway, I got very upset and I yelled at them, I told them they were completely crazy and needed to get mental help and said I thought Roommate 1 and I needed to move out because they might try to stake my heart or something. I feel really bad for calling them crazy, especially because Roommate 2 has some very mental health issues and words like crazy make light of and stigmatise that and I’m very big into not blaming people for their mental health problems, but this was very triggering and in this moment I was very distresssed.

So, aita, all things considered here? I’m still gonna feel like the asshole no matter what, since mental health problems aren’t to be taken lightly or blamed on the person, but I’m curious what the internet thinks.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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wordstome · 5 months

Text

Single Dad!König (Dream Daddy au)

(+ a bit of Ghost under the cut)

Thank you to everyone who indulged (said exactly what I asked them to say 😅) me.

Here’s the paragraph I wrote:

I imagine his heart sinking when Ava comes home sad and quiet, unwilling to look her dad in the eye. He recognizes what that means: that used to be him as a kid. His worst fears are confirmed when Ava admits she's being harassed by a boy at school, replaced by anger when Ava says her teachers simply shrugged and told her that boys will be boys, and has she considered that maybe he just has a crush on her? Needless to say, by the time König's walking out of that school, nobody will ever be hurting his little girl ever again. Honestly, one glimpse of Ava's dad by her classmates will keep her free from bullying for the rest of her life.

Now here’s a bit more about single dad König, namely, how he came to be a dad…and single :( Angst and death tw ahead (nothing graphic)

With Ghost, I said he would only have had Caden due to an accident, because of Simon’s previous trauma involving his family. He was firmly in the mindset that he would die in the field, he’s just not built for civilian life anymore, he's a danger to everyone who loves him. However, when Caden shows up at his doorstep, all he can think about is Tommy and his nephew Joseph when he looks at the boy. He probably does his best to get Caden sent to a different family member, but let’s suspend our disbelief that any responsible social worker would leave a kid with Simon “Ghost” Riley for a moment and say that the social worker is like “It’s you or the foster care system.” Realistically, Simon would probably be like “foster care is safer than living with me” but for the purposes of the AU, he took the kid in.

With König, he doesn’t have the same trauma/hangups regarding kids and family. He’s in the same boat as Simon: he’s a human weapon, and can’t function properly in civilian life. For König, his work is an outlet and keeps him stable. I’m gonna have to sit down and make a proper post about my König’s character (Alexander), but for my König, violence is a method of regulating his emotions and a way to manage his anxiety. Having power and being hyper competent in the field is key to his mental stability. However, I think he would be able to settle down, it would just take a very patient, special woman. (For the purposes of the AU his first partner is AFAB she/her.) Here’s where I start breaking hearts… 🤭

In Dream Daddy au, König considers his first wife the love of his life. She deeply understood him as a person and wasn’t afraid of him, even when he was socially awkward and intimidating. They were honestly kindred spirits: both of them had their neuroses and flaws, but instead of trying to fix each other or mold the other into some ideal partner, they accepted each other and thus were able to grow together. (And tbh they were already a match made in heaven anyway.) König’s wife never asked him to quit, and was completely ready to raise a child with him frequently being gone. She was a badass woman, and she really, really wanted to start a family with him, so they had Ava.

For three years, König was probably the happiest he’s been in a long time, and if you asked him he’d probably say it was the happiest time in his life. He was moving up the ranks at work, his mental health was in check, and he had a wife and adorable little daughter to go home to every leave. He started planning to transfer to a safer/more stable position, because as much as the military has done for him, he’s ready to step up as a father and a husband. Then he gets a call that changes his life forever, and suddenly he doesn’t get a choice anymore.

(I'm eternally sorry to the little fictional people I made up in my head because I entertained the idea of putting the Brooklyn 99 "Guess who got murdered!" gif here...)

One thing y'all need to know about my man Alexander is that he is the embodiment of "I am not meant for casual. I was born for soul-crushing devotion." His problem is that he never had devotion before his wife: he craved it like a starving man, and it engulfed him like water flowing into a basin when he got it. He had it for a handful of years (I'm thinking 6 but that's a flexible number), and now it's gone again. You know in movies when something horrible happens and they cut all the noise and there's just a high pitched ringing sound? That's König getting that phone call.

God. All I can imagine is König dropping everything and taking the next flight home. He’s in a daze, in a way that he’s never quite been before. His mind is finally quiet, but the emptiness is not peaceful. Then he finally sees his little girl, she runs into his arms, and the dam bursts. He just holds her and cries. He’s numb, a dead man walking throughout all the business that needs to be taken care of after his wife’s death. The only thing that brings him back to the land of the living is Ava. She’s so small, so sweet, and she doesn’t really understand what death means: all she knows is that her mama’s gone somewhere, and her dad is so, so sad all the time. She’s all that keeps him going, and the only reason he keeps himself alive.

By the time you come into his life, it’s been several years, but Ava is still a little girl. She doesn’t remember her mother at all except what König tells and shows her, because he’s determined to keep her memory alive. König’s been slowly rebuilding who he is as a person from whatever scraps are left. There’s a gaping hole inside him, and he’s reconstructed himself around the hole. In some ways he’s a totally new man, in other ways, he’s gone back to who he was before his wife came along. He’s bitter and angry at the way his life has treated him just as he was as a young man, but now he’s swallowed up by guilt and self loathing. He's gotten better at coping and functioning as the years have passed and life has continued on, but his grief has never really gone away.

(alexa, play "right where you left me" by taylor swift)

#HERE BUCCA GOES WRITING ESSAYS ABOUT A FICTIONAL MAN AGAIN #i spared you guys the 2 extra paragraphs about König’s changed perspective on death and mortality #könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #dream daddy au

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vespertiliosworld · 1 month

Text

Shivani

Damian x Reader

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

English is not my first language, forgive me if there is any mistake.

Some time had passed since Diana Price adopted you. You were used to living with her, of course she didn't tell you how she found you. You started a new school in Washington.

Once you got to a pretty good school and a good life, Diana decided you were strong enough and started taking you on patrols with her. Along with this, you also started seeing Superboy and Robin more often.

There were times when you felt like they were redundant because they had met before you, but you were still used to them. Although Robin was a little rude to you. You felt a little relieved when Superboy told you that this was his normal self.

You still like to go on patrol and train with them. Of course, it was difficult for you to stay awake at night and do a lot of activities. Come on, let's be honest, you can't expect your mental health to stay good when you have a messed up sleep schedule and so many problems in your hero life.

On one of those similar days, of course, under Robin's leadership, you attempted things beyond your scope. You were hesitant about this because Diana had told you to only do the tasks they gave you."What if they get mad at us?" you said as you examined the strange underground tunnel you had entered.

Robin turned to you with a stern look. "Don't be a coward, it's just a mission." His voice showed how uncomfortable he was with you being there. He was leading you and Superboy as he walked in the front row.

You frowned but didn't respond to him.

"He's right Damian, we should leave this to the adults. They just told us to check if there was anything suspicious." Superboy said, defending you.

However, you were thinking about Superboy calling Robin 'Damian'. "Damian? Damian Wayne?" You asked in surprise, involuntarily raising your voice.

Damian turned to Superboy and wrapped his arms around his chest. "Great! Now he knows my identity, good for you idiot!" You were trying to digest this new information as he scolded Superboy.

“Me too Y/N!” You spoke to him with a big smile. "Y/N L/N! Nice to meet you." You offered him your hand with an awkward smile. "I promise your secret will be safe with me, Robin."

Damian glared at your hand and shook his head. "Second idiot! We are in an unknown place, they might be listening to us!" he said scolding you.

You bowed your head, realizing he was right. You felt stupid for making a mistake. "I am sorry."

Without saying anything, Robin just took a deep breath and turned and started walking. Superboy approached you and put a hand on your shoulder. “I'm Jonathan Kent, nice too meet you, Y/N.” When he looked at you with his smile as bright as the sun, you felt a little relieved.

After smiling at him, you quickly followed Robin, but after a few steps, you felt a breath on your neck and turned quickly. You put your hand on the back of your neck and stared into the empty darkness. You took a step with the uneasiness that surrounded you, but when the ground started to shake, you fell to the ground.

You quickly wanted to turn around and check on the boys, but you panicked when you realized you couldn't see any of them. You quickly stood up and ran towards the path you thought they were on, but you started to feel like you weren't making any progress.

"Look at that lonely little gazelle! How lost, how pathetic." When you heard the familiar voice, you quickly wanted to look around and saw him. Void was sitting in the air, watching you with amused eyes. You took out your sword and quickly got into a fighting stance, but Void did not move."Aw! Don't be like that little one, you're so wild."

"Shut up! Where are my friends? What did you do to them?!" You started yelling at him. You were afraid of the dark and this narrow space.

But why did the tunnel seem to be getting smaller?

Your hands holding the sword trembled as you felt yourself start to lose your breath. You ignored the Void and tried to run and find the exit. As you ran, the tunnel became smaller and smaller, reaching a size where you could no longer even stand.

"Aw! Is there something wrong, kid?" Void chuckled and mocked you. His eyes were shining dangerously. He looked like a hunter having fun with his prey.

You tried to hold the walls with your hands and push them, you were suffocating. Your phobia felt like it was going to kill you. As the walls got smaller, you felt like the day your parents died. When the screams of your mother, who put you in a small closet and locked you from the outside, and your father's crying reached your ears, you fell to your knees and started crying.

“Please…” You begged with your broken speech.

Void looked at you as if he was enjoying this situation. When he squeezed the black ball he held in his palm a little more, the walls became tighter. “Guess you got nowhere to go, huh?” He underestimated you. "Give me your power source and I'll get you out of here." He tried to talk you into a deal.

Instead of answering, you pressed your hands to your ears, trying to escape your family's screams. "Mom dad!" When you screamed, Void let out a breath of boredom.

"Come on kid, we don't have much time. You either stay here or give up your powers." he said in a serious tone. His facial expression had become more threatening, but you were too scared to see it.

When your sword glowed, it brought you out of that fearful memory. You tried to get out of this darkness by reaching out and holding your sword. You felt yourself coming to your senses as a warm and safe feeling seemed to radiate from the sword. You weren't on the day your parents died, you were in a situation the Void forced you into.

You clenched your teeth. "Go to hell!" When you tried to attack him with the sword in your hand, you noticed something. You weren't actually in a small, confined space! This was a very wide tunnel.

"Fuck!" He swore as he dodged your attack, realizing you were free from the effects of his powers.

He dodged back as you swung your sword at him. "You were lucky this time, but I'll catch you next time." When he threatened you as he disappeared into the darkness, the ground disappeared and you fell.

You looked around as your eyes suddenly opened and a large gush of black liquid came out of your throat. Robin and Superboy were looking at you. Robin was furious, but Superboy was worried. You hugged Robin, who was right in front of you, tightly and started crying. Your body was shaking with the fear you had just felt.

Damian wanted to push you away, but when he realized you were crying, he rubbed his hand on your back instead. When they realized that you were not following them, they turned and saw you drowning in a pitch black liquid.

Even though they tried to wake you up and make you vomit the black liquid, it didn't work and you went into a kind of shock and started shaking.

"Are you ok?" Superboy asked as he placed a hand on your shoulder and tried to help you calm down. "What happened?"

"Void," you said in a fearful voice. "H-He pinned me down to the day my parents died. I couldn't escape, I couldn't help them." you said as your sobs got louder. "It was so scary, there was blood everywhere."

"It's okay, you're okay now." said Robin dryly. He didn't know what to say, his relationships with people were not good.

As you started to calm down a little more, you felt like you had lost all your strength because you were crying. You tiredly turned away from Robin and wiped your eyes. "I'm sorry, I acted like a stupid."

Robin stood back and didn't answer you. "Let's go.

If you nodded and stood up, you walked to the exit. Meanwhile, Superboy reached out and held your hand, smiling at you. "Britain, I won't let anything like this happen again, Y/N, trust me." said.

You gave him a grateful smile and walked towards the exit.

Robin was walking in front of you with a grumpy look on his face."While you were unconscious, we checked ahead but there was nothing. Just a big wall." It seemed strange to suddenly see a wall where there was a dark road before.

You nodded. "Let's tell the adults, they know what to do." you said in a meek tone.

Superboy nodded in agreement. Your body was still shaking a little.

You felt relieved when you came out. You thought Void couldn't reach you anymore. When Robin got on his motorcycle you and Superboy flew side of him.

It was good to have the cold air hit your body and make yoı feel like you wasn't in a confined space anymore. Once a smile appeared on your face, you spent the rest of the night around the adults, telling them what had happened.

The next day, you spent all day thinking. Void wasn't going to leave you alone until he got what he wanted, there was no escape from him. You thought about what you could do, what path you would follow. Meanwhile, the window of the room was knocked once or twice.

You turned your head in that direction with fear, but you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Jonathan. You got up from the bed and opened the window for him, but Damian walked in before you did. With a relaxed attitude, he checked in as if he owned the place and sat on the chair in front of the desk.

When Jonathan came in, you closed the window and turned to them. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on patrol?" you said curiously.

Jonathan smiled widely. "Yes, but we want you to come too! Besides, there is a place called BatBurger in Gotham, we want to take you there too." he said excitedly. Then he stopped and put his hand on the back of his neck and bowed his head. "Of course, if you want to come too."

You smiled softly. "I would love that."

"Great then! Let's go." said Jonathan excitedly again.

Damian looked at him annoyed. "Idiot! She needs to get dressed!" he said scoldingly.

You giggled at them. You put on the relic and let the power flow through your body. Now that you were in your hero form, you put your hands on your hips and smiled strongly. "Let's go!"

#damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian x reader #dc comics #dc x reader #dcu #dc universe #superboy #jonathan kent #jon kent

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gingiesworld · 7 months

Note

Hey

I wanted to ask i you can write some thing about fem reader who can shift into an huge wolf and natasha who finds out. Mary something fluffy with a bit Angst :)

Btw i love your storys, your a really good writer

Secrets (Drabble)

Natasha Romanoff x Werewolf Fem Reader/ Wanda Maximoff x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Angst and fluff

A/N: Thank you nonnie for this request and your sweet words <3

18+ MINORS DNI

Natasha thought she knew everything about Y/N from the moment they had become official. Although Y/N had a secret that only Wanda knew about, especially as the two have a history with Hydra. Although Wanda had volunteered thinking she was doing it to save her country, Y/N was captured because of her bloodline.

Wanda was in control of being her keeper, she helped with calming her down whenever she felt overwhelmed or like she was going to lose control. But the friendship between the two didn't go unnoticed by the assassin. Jealousy had sparked something from within and she found herself questioning her relationship with Y/N.

"Do you want a fresh drink?" Y/N asked her at one of Tony's parties.

"Please." Nat smiled at her as Y/N took her glass and headed to the kitchen. Smiling as she got the drinks but soon as she spotted Steve sitting a little too close to Natasha, she felt anger and rage as Nat looked uncomfortable.

"Just a moment Vis." Wanda told him as she noticed Y/N's stare, heading straight for her best friend and dragging her outside the compound. "Just breathe Y/N." Wanda tried as Y/N paced.

"I just." She tried to speak but her breathing increased. It was Vision who had went to ask Natasha to follow him since they both had a plan to catch the two in the act. But what they never realised was that it was the complete opposite to how they thought.

"Y/N." Wanda spoke in a soothing voice, Y/N shook her head no as her body started to change. Her screams filled the air as the bones broke as they changed form. Once Y/N had fully changed, Vision went into protective mode and flew over to tackle Y/N away from Wanda. "VISION!!" She yelled as she used her powers to stop his movements.

Nat slowly approached the the three of them with caution.

"She is dangerous Wanda." He told her as Wanda shook her head no.

"She has nevet hurt me in all of the years we have known each other." Wanda told him through gritted teeth as she went to check on Y/N, running her hands through Y/N's hair as she whimpered.

"What is going on?" Nat questioned as she watched both Wanda and Y/N in her wolf form.

"She is from a long line of werewolves and she was taken by Hydra." Wanda told her. "Hydra had her kill someone in order to activate the curse and ever since I have been their for her."

"I just." Nat looked at Y/N's whimpering form.

"Y/N had never cheated on you." Wanda stated. "Sorry, it's just that your thoughts are very loud and I couldn't control it." Nat just nodded as she gazed at the grey wolf. "Y/N loves you so much Natasha and she comes to me when she fears she can't control herself. She is afraid of hurting you so she kept this secret from you."

"She's hurt." Nat stated as she noticed the blood on her fur.

"She will heal." Wanda told her. "There is a lot that comes with this knowledge Natasha and Y/N needs you to be impartial."

"I love her Wanda and I will not go anywhere." Natasha spoke firmly as she knelt beside Y/N. "This secret won't come between us." Wanda smiled as she watched the assassin started to stroke Y/N's fur. "I don't care that she turns into a wolf, all I care about is her health and happiness."

"I love you too Natasha." Y/N whispered as they soon noticed Y/N had changed back, Wanda was fast to give her the hoodie she had on to cover her bare form. "And I am sorry that I felt as though I couldn't trust you with this."

"That's ok." She whispered as she brushed Y/N's hair from her face. "Let's get you inside and we can have a bath and watch a movie."

"I would love that." Y/N kissed her softly as Wanda cleared her throat.

"Well, I guess I best get Vision in line before he gets everyone to turn on Y/N." Wanda told the two as she soon disappeared, leaving the two lovers under the stars as Nat pulled her back in for a loving kiss.

#natasha romanoff au #natasha marvel #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x fem reader #wanda fanfic #my fic writing

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nights-legacy · 6 days

Text

Gift From Eywa Pt. 2 - Neteyam

Main Masterlist ~ Avatar Masterlist

1583 words

Part 1

Warnings: none except slight spoilers of you haven't seen ATWOW

+ The impossible has happened. Neteyam was back, breathing and unharmed. No one can believe it but everyone is beyond happy. After the intial high of his return, it was time for Neteyam to learn about

"This is impossible." I said while sitting next to his head. After Aonung and Tsireya returned with help, we took him back to my marui and Ronal had met us. She immediately began to check him over.

"Quite." She said as she circled him but paused next to me. "Maybe your visions were not just from grief. I think Eywa was trying to tell you of his return." She gives me a smile, caressing my head. She moved on around me. I heard commotion outside and then Netyiri ran in. She froze in the door before letting out a loud cry.

"Neteyam!" She collapsed next to us. She was crying heavily. "This can't be real. This can't be real." She cried out as she hovered over his side.

"Neytiri..." She Looked up at me. "He's here. He's really here." She smiled and reached up to cup my face, setting her forehead against mine. I held her wrists as Jake came in at that moment with Tonowari behind him. He stumbled at the sight of his boy and Tonowari held him up.

"How?" The question came out as a puff of air.

"I'm not sure. But I see it as a Gift from Eywa." Ronal said blissfully. Jake knelt down behind Neytiri. She grabbed her son's hand to hold it to her chest and I felt Jake set his hand on my head. I looked at him and he was giving me a look asking if I was okay. I nodded with a smile. He moved his hand to my shoulder and kept it there.

After Ronal had checked him over and deemed him in good health, she left with instructions for me to look after him. She said she would return when he wakes. Everyone else left reluctantly when it came to turn in for the night. All except Lo'ak. He refused to leave.

"You carry too much sometimes, Skxawng." I chuckled as I placed a blanket over a sleeping Lo'ak who made his place in the corner. He hummed in his sleep as I covered him up.

I walked around, snuffing out the lights before returning to Neteyam's side. I laid down next to him and caressed his face. I sighed, afraid to fall asleep in case I woke up to it being just a dream. I forced myself to sleep with a hand on his breathing chest, over his beating heart.

"Hmm." Warmth from the morning sun woke me from my slumber. I squirmed under the blanket before sitting up. I peered around the room. The memory of yesterday came rushing back and I looked next to me. Neteyam was gone. "No... no, no, no." I got up and ran from the marui. I ran around the village, looking around frantically for the boy.

"I missed you so much." I heard Tuk yell. I ran in that direction and saw Neteyam in the middle of his family, Tuk attached to his waist. He was hugging his sister tight, cupping the back of her head. I slowed and stopped not far from the group.

"Neteyam..." I hiccupped in relief. His ears twitched before he looked toward me. His expression turned from joyous to concern.

"Yawne." He pulled away gently from his sister and ran towards me. I reached out for him and latched onto his shoulders as soon as he got close. I buried my head in his chest and let out the breath I was holding. "Oh love, I'm here."

"I thought... you were gone when I woke up. I thought it was all a d-dream." I stuttered. I sniffled and he cooed as he cupped the back of my head. I moved my head to his neck before looking up at him.

"Oh, love. I'm so sorry." He pulled back and cupped my face, nuzzling his nose against mine as he whispered some comforting words. I collapsed into his chest again and he held me tight. He cradled the back of my head and wrapped his other arm around my waist. "Lo'ak told me about how you've been lately and thought it was best to let you sleep. I'm sorry. I should have stayed close."

"No, no. It's alright. I know you would want to see your family. I just..." I trailed off while playing with on of his braids sheepishly.

"I know." He kissed my head before resting his cheek against my head. I looked over his shoulder and saw everyone watching us with smiles. A sad thought crossed my mind.

"Did they tell you?" I asked gently. I felt him grimace and pull away, realizing what I was asking. He held me by my biceps and I held onto his battle belt. He looked down and nodded. I placed my hand where the bullet wound should be. "I was so lost..."

"I'm here now. I don't know how or why but I'm here now." He set his forehead against mine, holding me tight against him.

"I hate to break up this tender moment up but I figure you're both getting pretty hungry?" Jake chuckled. As if on cue, both of our stomachs growled. I hid my face in Neteyam's chest in embarrassment.

"Come on bro. Let's get you both something to eat." Lo'ak came over and wrapped his arm around his brothers shoulder. Neteyam let his brother pull him away but paused when I didn't follow.

"Go on. I'll be along." I assured him. He brought my hand that he was still holding up to kiss it.

"Okay. Don't be to long. You have a lot to catch me up on." I watched as Lo'ak drug him into the marui. I chuckled and felt my heart swell at the sight. I turned and looked out over the water. I closed my eyes and took a big breath, thanking Eywa for the miracle. A tug on my hand brought me back.

"Come on, Y/N." I turned to see Kiri holding my hand to her chest. I smiled and squeezed her hand back.

"I'm coming." She pulled me along and had me sit next to Neteyam. I just stared at him as he ate, still in disbelief but ecstatic nonetheless.

After breakfast, Tonowari had arranged for a celebration in honor of Neteyam's miraculous return. It had been a long day of celebrating and the two of us needed a break. We stole away for a moment alone just before eclipse. The sun was setting over the water and the moment was serene.

"I can't believe I was gone for a year." He said softly while gripping my hand. I sighed and nodded.

"It was torture for the first few months... for all of us. Neytiri couldn't sleep, Kiri was less lively, and Tuk couldn't stop crying. Even Tsireya and Aonung were devastated beyond reproach. But...Lo’ak and Jake were especially torn up." I pulled him to a stop and we faced each other. "They both blame themselves heavily. No one could or can convince then otherwise."

"I know. I could see it in their eyes." He looked down, nose scrunching in distress.

"I honestly think Lo'ak blames himself for all of this." I ran my thumb up his nose, smoothing out the skin. He relaxed his face.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Well, he thinks if he never had gone to the old lab, We would have never had to move and we would not have had to fight the RDA at Three Brothers."

"What?! That's absurd. Quaritch would have done anything to come after Dad anyway! Regardless if Lo'ak and the others getting caught." He said, confused.

"I know." I reached up and cupped his neck. "And I think he needs to hear that from you. You're the only one I think he'll listen to on this."

"I will." He wrapped his arms around me. "You've mentioned how everyone fared... except you."

"Observant as always." I chuckled. I set my forehead against his chest. "I could hardly stand it."

"How so?"

"I was completely numb for days ...months." I looked up at them. "If it wasn't for Tuk, Tsireya, and everyone else, I would have faded away. I felt empty and couldn't find it in me to go on."

"Yawne..." I could see tears welling up in his eyes, anguish taking over his face. He pulled me into a tight hug, arms wrapped snugly around my form. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe you had to go through that. I'm..."

"Shh..." I placed my fingertips on his lips. I leaned up and kissed him. He immediately responded, kissing me softly. We pulled away but only a bit. Neteyam kissed my head. "It's okay. You're here now and that's all that matters."

"And I never plan to leave you or everyone else again." He said with soft determination. I nodded and nuzzled into his neck. He ran a hand up and down my back while the other ran through my hair. "And if you'll have me, I want to be mated to you as soon as possible. I don't want to wait any longer."

I saw Neteyam glance at me with a smile before he looked at the stars, too. Above us, the stars twinkled as if Eywa herself was answering me.

"Neither do I." I nose his cheek. As Eclipse came upon us we started back towards the village. I looked up at the stars and smiled. "Thank you Eywa for the best gift of my life."

Tag List: @lunamochii @dayyzlol @ravenodindottir

#imagine #imagines #james cameron avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #x reader #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #atwow neteyam #atwow imagines #atwow #avatar 2 x reader #avatar 2022 #neteyai

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therealcocoshady · 1 month

Text

Recovery - Chapter 26

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Reader has left the country to try and deal with her breakup with Em. She thinks it's over until she gets a call... from Hailie.

Tags : ANGST, Comfort

Y/N’s POV

You’d been back in France for a few months and you were finally a doctor. You had successfully defended your doctoral dissertation over zoom and it was one of the happiest, most relieving days of your entire life. It was quite an accomplishment and you felt extremely proud. Of course, it wasn’t the whole ordeal it would have been if you had stayed in Michigan : the university would have organized a designated event and you would have invited a lot of people to celebrate this milestone with you. Instead, it had been you, wearing a blazer in front of your computer for a Zoom call with the jury, while people you knew watched the livestream. It was a little sad, for sure, but ultimately, you knew that coming back to France was the best decision for your mental health.

The breakup with Marshall had taken quite a toll on you and you had not been able to function properly. Everything made you think of him and you had come to the conclusion that you would never heal if you had constant reminders. Talia and Jamal were sad to let you go, but they did it for your sake. Also, you did not want to impose and be a burden for your best friends. A few weeks after the breakup, things had gotten so bad that Talia had to help you shower and monitor your eating. Back then, you weren’t doing much : trying to work on your dissertation and crying, only sleeping when you were exhausted. It wasn’t a proper way to live and you knew it. Hence your decision to go back to France and live with your Dad. For university as well as most people you knew, the official reason for your departure was that you had family issues that required your presence. It was a blatant lie and you felt guilty, but you did what you had to do to go forward. Everyone had been nice and supportive, especially people you knew from the studio. Even Paul was kind to you and, when Jamal told him you were leaving, he even offered for you to take the private jet. You had refused, but you appreciated the thought, even though you suspected that he just wanted to make sure that you were leaving for good and wouldn’t be a disturbance to Marshall’s work life.

Regardless of the distance, your friends came through for your dissertation defense and they watched the livestream as you achieved your long-term ambition of becoming a doctor. You were truly touched by everyone’s support. They had even sent gifts to be delivered to your place the day after. You were treated to bottles of champagne (from people who did not know you were sober), gourmet baskets, bouquets of flowers… The biggest gift of all, though, came from Marshall.

FLASHBACK

Upon landing in Paris, you found that Marshall had tried to reach you while you were on the flight. Of course, you had the urge to call him back, after all the texts you had sent.

Hello ? You heard his sleepy voice say on the phone.

Oh my God, am I waking you up ? You asked as you were suddenly reminded of the time difference.

Mmmh yeah, he said. It’s ok though. Thanks for calling me back.

Sorry I missed your call, you said sheepishly. I just landed in Paris.

How was the flight ? He asked.

Good. Got an upgrade so I flew in business class instead of the coach, so it was pleasant.

Good, he said softly. Look, I… I’m sorry it took so long for you to get a hold of me. I completely unplugged and by the time I checked my phone, you were gone. I want you to know that I would have come and said goodbye. I was too late.

Thank you, you whispered in a sigh of relief. I thought you didn’t want to see me…

Of course I did, he replied. Also, thank you for the package. Jamal gave it to me and I’m… speechless. You know what I mean ? It means so much. I’m touched.

You’re welcome, you said. I was afraid it would be too much.

It’s definitely too much, he said with a small laugh. You shouldn’t spend too much on me. But the pen and the notebook are beautiful.

I’m glad you like them. They made me think of you. I was saving them for your birthday, but… You know.

I should have been the one treating you to fancy stuff, he mumbled. If I’d known you’d be leaving, I would at least have arranged for you to fly private.

I know, you said softly. Paul offered the jet when he knew I was leaving, but I refused.

Marshall went silent on the phone for a few seconds - enough to make you wonder if he had actually hung up on you.

I see. I read your letter. I get it, he said.

I’m sorry, you said flatly.

I’m sorry, Y/N… I wish I had known you were struggling. I wish you would have called me.

I couldn’t, you replied in a creaky voice. It’s too hard, Marshall.

I know, he said softly. But just so you know… You being on another fucking continent doesn’t mean I’m not here if you need, alright ? You can call me if you need anything. I mean it.

Promise I will, if I ever need a plane, you chuckled.

You know what I mean, he said sternly.

I do. Thank you, you said softly.

Anyway… Congratulations are in order, I guess ? You’re finally done with your work, he said.

I am, you said with a smile. Thank you.

Thank you for the acknowledgement, too. That was the sweetest thing ever, he said softly.

Not too cheesy ?

Just enough, he said with a laugh. Jamal told me you’d do the whole defense over Zoom and that they’d be watching. Can I watch too ? You know, I would have loved to be here on your big day if it had been in Detroit.

Please don’t, you found yourself saying. I appreciate the support but I just can’t do it if I know you’re watching.

I get it, he said sheepishly. But I know you’ll do great. I’ll be thinking of you. I always am anyway…

Thank you, Marshall, you said in a whisper. I always think about you too…

I read that, yeah, he whispered back.

Silence again.

I should probably let you sleep, you said.

…Ok, he replied. Thank you for calling, Y/N. Take care, alright ?

Bye, you said softly.

You heard him hang up the phone and whispered “I love you”, on the verge of tears. Now that you were back in France, something painful hit you : it may be the place that you were born, but it wasn’t home. Home was the place you had left six weeks ago. Home was Marshall. And now, you had to start all over again.

END OF FLASHBACK

About a week after your dissertation defense, you received the most enormous package you had ever seen in your life. You weren’t even sure how it could have been handled by the postal services. It contained the biggest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen - some real Dubaï Housewife Instagram stuff - a black velvet box containing an exquisite diamond solitaire necklace, as well as a gorgeous watch from Cartier. Of course, it was from Marshall. You didn’t even need to read the card. He knew this watch was your dream one - the one you wanted to get when you had achieved something significant, when you truly became successful. The box also contained a letter, written in his penmanship that you loved so much :

“Dear Y/N,

It’s my turn to make a big gesture. Congratulations on your achievement. You were absolutely amazing (unsurprisingly so). I might have hidden in a corner of the room when Talia and Jamal watched your defense (hope you don’t get mad at me). I hope you like the necklace, though it won’t do you justice. The watch is set in the Detroit time zone, just in case you want to call any of us. We’re all thinking of you. Especially me.

Love you always,

Marshall.”

You immediately sent him a thank-you text and the two of you texted for a bit but you didn’t really keep in touch. In the following weeks, your former roommates mentioned him when you were on the phone, but that was about it. You didn’t really know what he was up to, although you guessed he was working, as usual. The only other type of information that you had was from his official social media accounts so, really, there was no way for you to know how he was actually doing, apart from tweets about the Lions games and a few Instagram posts managed by his team.

Weeks went by and you received a package from Shady Records. It contained a CD version of the new album as well as a small box with a vintage portable CD player and Beats headphones, along with a note from Marshall.

“Dear Y/N,

I don’t know if you’re old enough to own anything that can play a CD, so I included one of my own players for you to listen to the album (take good care of it, it’s one of my favorites). We’re finally done with the new album. Thank you for every minute you spent in the studio, for all the time you spent encouraging and listening to me and for all the times you listened to some of these tracks. This album would not be the same without you.

Love,

Marshall.

PS : whenever you get a CD, always check the booklet :)”

You knew the album was coming. Jamal had mentioned it, although he was probably not supposed to, knowing how secretive Marshall and his team could be about this. However, holding a physical copy of the album felt different, not to mention how thoughtful and personal the gift from Marshall was. You immediately opened the case and looked at the track list. It included some of the songs you liked the most - some of which you had actually witnessed the recording of. You remembered the times you gave him your opinion and it seemed like he had taken it in consideration. There were some newly recorded tracks as well.

Before listening, you took a look at the booklet. You found your name in the acknowledgement section.

“To Y/N. Thank you for everything. You deserve a whole album, but I hope a song will do. Check track n.12”.

Curiosity got the best of you and, of course, it was the first track you listened to, as you skipped the first eleven ones. It was a track you had never heard before, so you could only assume it was recorded after your breakup. It was a feature with Skylar Grey, a dark, sad yet beautiful love song. It seemed like a conversation between two lovers parting ways. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard a line you distinctively remembered writing in your letter : “Every little thing is a reminder of what once was and will never be again. And being reminded that I had everything and lost it all is too much pain”.

You shed an emotional tear at the idea that your letter had inspired him to write such beautiful, yet sad lyrics. You listened to the whole album with your eyes closed, letting Marshall’s soothing voice fill your ears. You had always liked the way he could play with his voice, conveying so many different emotions. For a minute, it seemed like he was in the room with you.

Once you were done, you immediately texted him. With a newly released album, there was no doubt that he would be busy and you didn’t want to disturb him.

To M : Thank you or the album. And the CD player. And the acknowledgement. And track 12. Loved every second. PS : Let me know if you ever need a ghostwriter again 🙂

Much to your surprise, he responded immediately.

From M : Glad you liked it. Though I should tell you that ghostwriters usually aren’t credited.

To M : For you ? I’ll skip the credit. Just write me a big, FAT check.

From M : Check the booklet again… Credit section. Is wire transfer ok ? 🙂

Your heart skipped another beat. He didn’t… Did he ?!

You looked at the credits for the song and noticed that the list was surprisingly short compared to the rest of the album, prompting you to think that fewer people had been involved in the making of the track. It mentioned Marshall, Jamal, Skylar Grey and… yourself. Your name was mentioned as a lyricist.

Without a second thought, you FaceTimed Marshall who immediately picked up with a smile on his face.

You didn’t !!! You exclaimed.

I did, he said with a chuckle. That’s your line after all.

You didn’t need to credit me !

You know I give credit where it’s due, he replied. I’ll send a contract your way. I can even get Paul to talk numbers with you. Just keep it reasonable, ok ? It’s one line.

I don’t want money, you said with a laugh. I just can’t believe you did this. You turned a part of my letter into a song and dedicated that stuff to me ! That’s just…

Yeah ?

Well that’s crazy, you simply said.

Well I’m crazy about you, you know ? He mused.

After all this time ?

Always.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

Harry Potter reference ? You giggled.

You’ve been on my back about these movies and how I haven’t seen all of them so I caught up, he chuckled. I actually watched the last one a few days ago.

You should read the books now, you said.

Not a chance.

You stared at the screen and watched his face, or at least the part you could see, since he was holding his phone in weird angles, as the boomer and technophobe he very much was. He seemed to have lost a bit of weight but you weren’t too sure.

Y/N ? He asked as you went silent.

Sorry, you said. I’m a bit tired.

Yeah, you look like a panda, he said with a smile. Or a raccoon.

That’s what happens when you make me cry with your music and acknowledgements, you replied as you playfully rolled your eyes.

Her smiled and chuckled. Hearing his laugh was medicine. Talking to him felt good too. It was the first time you felt alive in weeks.

What are you doing ? You asked. Did I wake you up ?

Nope, it’s still daytime here, he said. I’m at home, resting a little and packing my bag for some promo tour. I have a couple interviews planned in New York and LA next week. We’re also looking at actual tour dates for this autumn.

That’s soon, you pointed out.

Yeah, it’s a surprise tour, he said. A small one. Just a couple of dates here and there, US and Europe, to see if I can still attract the crowds, I guess.

Of course you can, you scoffed. People are going to go crazy. Are you excited ?

Yeah, I like performing, he said with a smile. I don’t really like tour life, though. I’m just afraid I’m a bit rusty. I haven’t done that in a while.

You’ll do great, you said reassuringly. A couple of sold out stadiums and you’re good. Where are you performing ?

So far, I think we have Detroit, New York, LA, Berlin, London and Amsterdam, he explained. We’re also talking about some festival dates, but that’ll be for next summer. We’ll see.

You found yourself a little sad that he didn’t mention Paris. It would have been the perfect excuse and opportunity to see him perform. After all, he was known to put on quite a show. But perhaps it was for the best. Maybe it was a bad idea. After all, you had literally fled to another country so that you could heal from your breakup. Talking to him was one thing, but seeing him in person was another.

How about you ? He asked. What’s up with your career ?

My career as a lyricist ? You joked. It��s going great.

Seriously, I want to know, he said with a smile.

Not much. I teach a couple of hours a week at university, you said. It’s not a fancy position or anything, and it’s actually ending soon, but it’s the best I could find. I’ll have to apply to other jobs.

Your students must be lucky to have you, he mused.

I’m kind of a bitch when it comes to grading, you chuckled.

Do you enjoy it ?

Love it, you said with a genuine smile. I can’t wait to have an actual job in the field and make a living out of it.

You don’t, yet ? He asked.

Right now, I don’t work much so the income is not the best, you admitted. But it’s fine.

You manage to pay the rent alright ?

I’m living with my Dad so I don’t need to, you shrugged. Plus, you know me, I’m not high maintenance so it’s fine, really…

You know, if you need money…, he began.

I don’t, you said.

Let me at least pay you for the lyrics, he offered.

Not a chance, you said sternly. If you give me a dime, it means you’re sending the letter back and you don’t want it.

Fine, he groaned. But can you promise me you’ll be alright ?

Yes. Promise me you will be alright ?

Promise. I’m sorry, I have to go, he said with a sad voice. The girls are coming to my place.

Enjoy, you said softly. It was great talking to you.

Thanks. Take care, alright ?

Take care.

The call ended and, for the first time in weeks, you had an actual smile on your face. You were happy you got to see him and hear his voice. You were also giddy and emotional over the fact that you had a song on his album that you could actually claim as yours. It was by far the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you.

Weeks went by and you got a chance to catch a few interviews of Marshall talking about his new record. Obviously, it was doing really well in sales and streams and fans were obsessing over it - yet another surprise album he had quietly dropped after years of anticipation. Track number 12 turned out to be a fan favorite too. You liked watching the interviews as it allowed you to, once more, see and hear him. It was almost like a guilty pleasure and you could get where his Stans were coming from. He was always fascinating. By watching them, you could confirm that he had lost quite a bit of weight. He still looked good, obviously - to you he always did. But you did notice a few comments about his appearance. Some said he looked sick and tired. One journalist even confronted him about it.

I have to ask, because the Internet is obsessing over it at this point, man. You have lost some weight haven’t you ?

Yeah, I have, he confirmed quietly.

Are you on some sort of diet ?

Nope. I’m just eating healthy, exercising… staying in shape, you know ?

So you’re healthy ? Everyone seems worried about you.

I’m good, he chuckled. I’m just not twenty anymore, you know. I’ve been working a lot on the record so that’s probably where the extra wrinkles and dark circles come from. Plus, i kind of had to get fitter. We’ve been shooting a couple of music videos and, at this point, I can officially announce that we’re going on a few surprise dates to perform in a few months, so… if people want to make sure I’m healthy, just come to the shows, ok ? There’s gonna be some dates in the US, UK and Europe, to be announced really really soon.

He smiled as the audience clapped and easily got the conversation to shift.

It's quite a surprise isn’t it ? The journalist asked. We haven’t seen you perform in forever !

I have to get back into it, right ? I miss the fans, the energy. Recording music is great, but performing, it’s another thing. I like both, you know ?

Why didn’t you plan more dates ? And why so soon ?

As I said, man, I have to get back into it. I didn’t want to wait too long to perform the new tracks and that’s kind of the downside when you drop surprise albums like that, you can’t exactly plan a tour easily. Otherwise people will know about what’s coming. Plus, I’m at a point where I’d like to see if I can still sell out venues without advertising a year and a half in advance.

The interviewer went on to ask some more questions about the tour but Marshall wouldn’t give too much information.

Eventually, the interview ended and you had to refrain yourself from actually searching for the tour dates and booking tickets for whatever show. You knew it would probably be a mistake. Plus, even though you weren’t strapped for cash, you couldn’t really afford concert tickets and travel. It wouldn’t be reasonable. After a while, you ended up realizing that watching those interviews on loop was messing with your brain. It only made you miss him more and it wasn’t helping you to get better. You were still struggling, even though it was not as bad as when you had left Detroit. You had lost quite a bit of weight too - about thirty pounds to be exact and, even though you fought hard to stay clean, you didn’t exactly lead the healthiest of lifestyles, barely eating and struggling to sleep at night, only passing out when you were exhausted.

You figured out it was yet another thing to recover from : your addiction to Marshall Bruce Mathers III. You had to, otherwise you would never move forward. Although, as time flew by, you couldn’t help but think that leaving him was your biggest mistake. You didn’t care about kids and marriage nearly as much as you cared about him. But you had to move on. What was done was done, you were in another country and there was no going back.

At some point, you stopped checking the interviews, even unfollowed him on social media. Eventually, you stopped mentioning him and his music altogether when you spoke with Talia and Jamal. You decided that denial may be the best option you had for the time being. The only thing you did indulge in was track number 12. But only because you were one of the lyricists, so that made it ok, right ? Right ?

A couple more months went by and it was autumn. You fought against the thought that Marshall would soon be in Europe. Closer than ever. Your contract with university had not been renewed and, in spite of a lot of applications, you hadn’t found a job yet. So you were left alone with your intrusive thoughts and spent most of your days mindlessly watching movies and reading books. You didn’t go out much and most of your social interactions were through your phone, with Talia and Jamal. When it rang, you picked up without even looking at the caller ID. Who else would call anyway ? Hiring season was over, so it wouldn’t be for a job.

What’s up Talia ? You asked as you closed your book.

It’s not Talia, you heard Hailie’s voice say.

Your heart immediately began to race. If she was calling you, it couldn’t be good. After your last interactions, it was clear that she wasn’t your biggest fan and wouldn’t be calling to check up on you and have some girly chat anytime soon. For a second, you were worried that she was calling to tell you something awful had happened to Marshall.

Oh my God, what’s wrong ? What happened to him ? You immediately asked.

What ? She asked.

You’re calling me. We both know it can’t be good.

You heard her sigh on the other end of the phone.

You’re right, it’s not, she said.

What’s wrong ?

What’s wrong is that Dad is miserable without you, she stated. What’s wrong is that you left him months ago and now he is a mess.

I was trying to do the right thing, you said sheepishly. I guess you made some pretty valid points, Hailie...

Look, I hate to admit it, but I was wrong about some of it, she said in an annoyed voice. I guess you made him happy and that you were good for him after all. I’m… sorry for saying some of those mean things.

Thank you, you whispered.

Did you really love him ? She asked.

Of course, you said. With all of my heart.

Do you still ?

I… Yeah, you sighed. I do.

Then I need a favor, she said.

You were surprised. Hailie calling you was the last thing you expected. Especially not for a favor. You knew how proud she could be.

Go on, you said. I can’t promise I’ll say yes, though.

Will you please come to the Amsterdam show ? She asked. It’s the last of the tour and it falls on his birthday.

Do you think it’s a good idea ? You asked. I’m not even sure he would want me there.

He still loves you, Y/N, she sighed. Of course he would want to see you. Look… Do you want to be with him or not ?

You sighed. Of course you wanted to be with him. In fact, it was the only certainty you had about your future : that you actually wanted to be with him. You had done a lot of soul-searching in the past months, and you had come to the conclusion that, even though you had always wanted to get married and have kids, you didn’t care as much about your hypothetical future husband and kids as much as you cared about Marshall. When you imagined your future, you only saw him. You had ever met anybody as good for you as him.

Y/N ? Hailie asked after you’d been silent for a minute.

Sorry, you said. Yes, I do. I want to be with him.

Then please come to Amsterdam and get back with Dad, she said. He needs you. I’m still mad at you, but I’m not too proud to admit that you were good for him after all. Looking back, I had never seen him so happy than when you were in his life.

Are you actually giving me your blessing to date your dad ? You asked in disbelief.

Don’t read too much into it, she said in an annoyed voice. If you’re what it takes to make him happy again, I will find a way to put up with you. I’ll e-mail you with your plane tickets and we’ll discuss the details later ok ?

I’ll get my own, you said with sass. I would hate for you to think that I’m taking advantage of your family money.

Please shut up, she groaned. I’m doing my best to be nice to you and you’re not making it easy. I will book your tickets and you will accept them.

Thank you, you said as you eased up a little.

I’ll talk to you soon, ok ? For the details of the surprise and stuff, Hailie said.

Ok, you said. By the way… I heard you guys were engaged. Congratulations.

Oh you heard about that ? She asked as you could hear her smile. Congrats on the PhD.

Thank you.

You smiled. You were pretty sure she still despised you, but at least, these words meant that you could be civil towards one another. After another exchange of words, you said your goodbyes and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. After nearly six months apart, you were going to see the love of your life.

In the following weeks, leading up to your trip to Amsterdam, you were a nervous mess and Talia spent a lot of time on the phone with you, convincing you that it was, indeed, a good idea. For the first time in months, you were looking forward to something and it was quite a feat. Hailie had booked first class tickets from Paris to Amsterdam, which was extremely generous. It seemed like she was intent on making it a good surprise for Marshall and convincing you to come. She even texted back and forth with you to make sure you were actually coming and would not miss the flight. She even bought a fancy hotel room for you, just in case.

When you got out of the plane, she was waiting for you, along with Stevie and Alaina. The reunion with Hailie was a bit awkward but her sisters were all smiles. You made small talk in the car that was taking you from Schiphol Airport to the hotel everyone was staying at.

How was your flight ? Hailie asked in an attempt to make small talk.

It was good, you said shyly. Thank you again for the first class ticket. I would have flown in economy, though. It’s a short trip.

Well, we want the surprise to go well, Stevie giggled. Putting you in a good mood is part of the plan.

Shouldn’t you be spending the day with him ? You asked.

We arrived in Amsterdam yesterday to surprise him, Alaina explained. We also spent this morning with him but now he is doing sound-checks and rehearsals. He won’t even notice we’re gone.

So, what’s the plan ? You asked.

We have a few hours before the show, Hailie said. We’ll sneak you in the arena with a bit of help from Porter and Paul. We’ll hide in the crowd during the show and go backstage afterwards, so that you can go and see him.

Ok, you said nervously.

You stared at the three of them. The whole situation was definitely weird.

Don’t be nervous, Alaina said with a smile. It’ll be fine.

It’s been six months, you said sheepishly. What if he’s mad at me ?

He’s not mad at you, Hailie said softly. He misses you. A lot.

Are you sure ?

In the past few months, we’ve never seen him as happy as the few times he got off the phone with you or texted you, Stevie said.

You know about that ? You asked in confusion.

Here’s the thing about Dad, Hailie said with a grin. He believes he’s not letting on, but he sucks at hiding anything from us.

Doesn’t help that he doesn’t know how to lock his phone, Stevie giggled.

So you… snooped ?

Believe me, if you’d seen him, you’d have done the same thing, Hailie sighed. At some point, I was scared that he would relapse or something. So I checked his phone to make sure he didn’t have a drug dealer. That’s how I saw your texts. So I told my sisters.

And as time went on and he wasn’t doing better, we decided to help the two of you get back together, Alaina said.

Was it that bad ? You asked in a worried voice.

He’s a bit better now, Alaina said reassuringly. Touring helps getting his mind off things. But yeah… He wasn’t doing too good.

You nodded. You had no idea it was that bad. The thought of him being unhappy broke your heart. After all, on the rare occasions the two of you had talked, he seemed to be doing alright. But obviously, you weren’t there and his daughters knew best.

I’m sorry he had to go through this, you said on the verge of tears. And you too. Do you think he will forgive me ?

It’s not your fault, Alaina said. You’re the one who left but, from what I gather, you had your reasons and relationships end all the time. We wouldn’t have had you come all this way if we weren’t sure of what we were doing. No one’s mad at you.

Well, I am, Hailie said sternly. But it’s not about Dad. So, yeah.

And how about… you girls ? You asked Alaina and Stevie, whose stance you didn’t know about.

I couldn’t care less, Stevie shrugged. I mean, it’s Dad, so it’s weird to think of him being with someone but I guess I’m glad he found someone who is actually willing to put up with him. Didn’t think it would happen, so…

Steve ! Alaina giggled. But yeah, she’s not wrong. You know, Dad was single for so long, we were a bit worried. All we want is for him to be happy.

Ok, you said shyly.

It was reassuring to know that they didn’t hate you. Still, you were a bit unsure how you should navigate the situation.

We have a few hours before the show. We can get you set in your hotel room and after, we can do some shopping and help you find an outfit if you don’t have one, Hailie offered.

You looked at your outfit. It was nothing extravagant but you had made an effort to find clothes that fit you pretty well - which was a challenge since you had lost weight and your whole closet had become at least two sizes too big. You were wearing a casual short black dress, black tights, leather boots and the jacket Marshall had bought for you in New York.

What’s wrong with my outfit ? You asked. I didn’t think I would need to dress up for an Eminem concert…

Not the concert, Alaina giggled. For Dad’s birthday dinner, tomorrow night. Hailie told you, right ?

Oh my God, I forgot, Hailie said. I’m so sorry ! I’ve been so busy with planning… So, basically, we’re just celebrating casually after the show tonight, dinner in his suite. But we’re staying and enjoying Amsterdam for a few days after, and tomorrow, we arranged for people to fly in and have dinner to celebrate Dad’s birthday as well as the album’s success. Porter is already here, obviously, but Talia and Jamal are coming too, Royce, Dre and Fifty as well.

Are you sure I should be here tomorrow ? You asked, definitely nervous. I’m happy to just leave you guys to it, you know…

Believe me, if I have to be there, so do you, Stevie chuckled.

I’m definitely having the two of you sit next to each other, Hailie sighed. It’s Dad’s birthday, make an effort. Of course you should be here, Y/N. You’re his girlfriend.

Not yet, you pointed out. We’re not even sure he wants me back. What if it goes wrong ?

It won’t, Alaina said. Just relax. Look… I shouldn’t tell you, but I know for a fact that he made plans to fly to Paris after the tour. He wanted to see you. You’re just beating him to it.

Ok, you said nervously. I’m sorry, I know I sound like a broken record, it’s just… I guess I’ll feel better when I see him.

When you got to the hotel, they took you to the room that had been booked for you. Then, they convinced you to do some shopping. Apparently, the next night’s dinner was to be held in the hotel restaurant, which was five star. You were a bit nervous since it was your first time shopping in six months but they helped you find a nice outfit.

Hours later, you were in the crowd, waiting for the show to start, nervously playing with your pendant, which had never left your neck.

Is that Dad’s pendant ? Alaina asked.

Yes, you said. He gave it to me when we first met, to wish me luck on my recovery journey. I never really took it off.

For how long have you been sober ?

Almost a year and a half now, you explained. It would have been longer but I relapsed a while ago. But Marshall… He helped me through it. And I’ve been sober ever since. I owe him everything.

Even after the breakup ? She mused.

Well, yeah… I mean, the only thing that kept me from using again and numbing the pain with pills was that I wouldn’t want him to be disappointed, you said earnestly. He changed my life. He is the reason why I got better and stuck to it.

You guys are good for each other, she pointed out.

I don’t know, you replied. But… If he lets me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be good enough for him.

Taking you by surprise, she engulfed you into a big hug.

Thank you for coming, she whispered. And thank you for loving him like this. I know Hailie is mad at you, and Stevie is just grumpy to be without her boyfriend, but… We’re really thankful for you, you know ?

You hugged her back and smiled as the show started. Suddenly, you understood what the big deal surrounding Eminem was. He was clearly born to perform and make music, he was literally oozing charisma. He was wearing jeans, sneakers and a simple black tee-shirt. Obviously, he didn’t need anything else to look good. You were literally unable to take your eyes off him.

Now, he said on the mic, we’re gonna perform a very special song. It’s my favorite one on the album and I know you guys love it. I need someone for that. Please welcome the incredible Skylar Grey, Amsterdam !!!

Everyone cheered as the singer stepped on stage and the first notes played. You knew what was coming : your song. Track 12. For three minutes and thirty seconds, the whole crowd sang along to the words of the most beautiful song ever written. It felt like they were singing it for you. You were flabbergasted and overcome with emotion : your mouth was wide open and tears were welling in your eyes. Hailie, Alaina and Stevie smiled at you, rubbing your shoulders.

Marshall and Skylar performed a couple more songs together and the show came to an end, with the crowd singing happy birthday to Marshall, who was smiling. Seeing him on stage made you fall for him all over again. When the crowd started to vacate, the girls took you backstage and Porter immediately came to greet you, as well as a few other people you knew from the studio.

We’re on a mission here, Hailie recalled. No one is supposed to see her before him. Where is he ?

Showering in his dressing room, Porter said. Paul is searching for you girls. Something about guests for tomorrow…

Can you take her while we sort this out ? She asked.

He nodded and she gave you a pat on the shoulder.

Breathe, she said.

Ok.

As Porter led you to the corridor, he made small talk.

It’s great that you could make it, he said. We all miss you at the studio, you know ?

I miss you guys too, you said with a smile. I had to go back because of some family stuff.

Quit lying, he chuckled. Marshall told me about the two of you.

Oh, you said, embarrassed to be caught in a lie. Who else knows ?

I think I’m the only one, he shrugged. Paul had suspicions, though. Here we are.

You were in front of a closed door and, suddenly, it became real : you were about to see Marshall after six months. You weren’t sure if you were about to faint or not. Before you got cold feet, Porter knocked on the door. No answer.

Bro, it’s me, he said. I have a birthday surprise for you.

Can this wait ? You heard Marshall’s voice say. I just got out the shower.

No. Open the door now, his friend insisted. Someone is here for you.

I swear, if it’s that prostitute joke, I’ll kill you.

Believe me, this one is out of my price range, Porter giggled.

The door swung open and you were faced with a shirtless Marshall, looking at you in shock, his jaw almost on the floor. You were staring at each other but none of you said a word.

I’ll leave you guys to it, Porter said with a wink. Happy birthday, man.

Hey, you whispered. Happy birthday.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers headcanons #recovery fanfiction

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dlstmxkakwldrlarchive · 5 months

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A Shawol met ONEW during his stay in Bali and shared her meeting!

Now that I'm sure Onew has left Bali, it's my story time! How I accidentally met my idol for 13 years, SHINee's Onew!!!

I don't know Onew will come to a public event in Bali, so I thought I will keep this story with me forever. But he was so kind to everyone, and I want to share this from a fan perspective that if you genuinely support someone, the universe will collide to help you meet them one day.

I came to Bali for work, and after a whole tiring week, I extended my stay with a few colleagues to have a little vacation. We wanted to eat Pho cause it's been raining a lot. Almost went to a different restaurant, but due to traffic, we changed it to a closer Vietnam restaurant in Canggu. I was sleepy the whole time until I saw a familiar-looking korean guy walked in front of my table. It took me a good 3 seconds to literally froze and gasp loudly knowing it was Jinki. My friend thought I lost smth (as usual) . They got startled as well, but can u blame me?

He sat right behind our table, and I went outside to catch some breath. No kidding, my heart stopped, I had goosebumps all over my body, and my hands were trembling hard. There was a bookstore right beside the restaurant, so I bought 2 postcards to write him a letter and maybe ask an autograph [...] (OP was sitting in front of ONEW and was very nervous) In the middle of that chaos, I tried to calmly write a letter on that postcard. I wanted to say a LOTTTTTTT of things, but nothing comes to mind than wishing him good health. [...] (OP tries not to make uncomfortable ONEW and just let it go, she goes on with her dinner normally, talks to her friends and tries not to stare ONEW. ONEW noticed her at the very end and her Boss said to her 'Go it's your time!')

🤓: Are you Onew by any chance?

🐰: *nods* sign?

🤓: Yes, *freeze* I'm SHINee fan since 2013

🐰: ^^ Do you have a pen?

🤓: Yes, yes. *give the marker*... Can I take a picture?

He makes a cute and pity face that says he can't. Tbh I expected just as much

🤓: That's okay😊 I understand

While he sign, my boss (note that he's an ahjusshi) told him "She was afraid to ask you before haha"

🐰: Ah really~ 😂 Do you have a cell phone?

🤓: Phone? What for?

🐰: Picture~

OP says he acted very kindly, said they had to retake their pic a few times, because she was nervous, her hands were trembling too but ONEW patiently stayed there until they got the perfect selfie

source

#231121 #shinee #onew #lee jinki #jinki #long hair #with: shawol #fanaccs #hellothere95 #hard era

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stitchwraith-stingers · 4 months

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godd i hate fazbear frights so much they ruined the lore ://// whats next, fazbear frights tumblr dash simulator??? fuck this

0 notes

🌙 motts-talking

i swear to god my brothers little pets are so freaky they ate my fish and made him into them, like spontanious mitosis or something and now im trying to get rid of them and i swear im so afraid of accidently drinking them

🌙 motts-talking

WHAT THE HELL..... HOW DO YOU HAVE A TUMBLR ACCOUNT, GO AWAYYYYYYY

21 notes

🔎 detective-larson

just got called into work today and they want me to look into this case and they think its associated with the stitchwraith... why do i work here 🔎 detective-larson

its been 3 months since i last posted and i may or may not have not known what i was getting into

14 notes

anonymous asked:

can you stop posting about your werid doll thing i get it ur like rich and shit now but its so hidieous and ugly it almost makes me want to unfollow and vomit

🍀 luckiest-boy-blog

i LIKE my ADVICE DOLL its just this little thing i like and you REJECT IT. YOU HATE IT BECAUSE I LIKE IT

154 notes

🎀 dovewing-kinnie

sorry ive been so inactive on this account, lets just say my mental health has been doing better! :) got some help from a family friend, ill be back to posting soon

🎀 dovewing-kinnie

the junkyard

15,816 notes

anonymous asked: aita for accidently indirectly killing my friend?

sorry for any spelling mistakes, im still shaken up by the whole thing

so i (14F) and my friend, who ill call P (14F) have recently both gone on a school trip to some werid factory (wont bother specifying which as to not doxx me), now i was known for being kinda, i guess "rude"? and while we seperated from the group and P was already slightly nervious about that, we went onto the catwalks and despite her pleading i decide to walk to a sign that said "NOT SAFE" or something along those lines

surprise surprise i fell, near me was a vat of boiling hot sauce or whatever and me, having somehow survived the fall, i decided to play a little prank, i would stay hiding in there for afew days, i think i managed to stay in there for 3 days? before i got kicked out

now first i visited my boyfriends house to tell him that im alive and whatever, and then i went to P's house, knowing it was like 2 am or something, i rang like three times i think and then i heard something fall

as it turned out, P had fallen off the roof of her house (i have no idea what she was doing in the first place) AND HAD SNAPPED HER NECK, i obviously screamed, who wouldnt, now i went from being the most popular girl in school to an outcast because of this

❓ aita-official

What are these acronyms?

🥀 the-ravens-death

925 notes

🐩 useless-dog-lesbian

utah is so werid, what do you mean people have an urban legend about a werid tall thing that has a trashbag with them at all times and can kill people with just a single touch

🥨 pretzel-liker-173

THEIR NAME IS THE STITCHWRAITH ‼‼

💡 yuri-ka

the stitchwraith is 100% funnier if you imagine theyre two kids in a trenchcoat with a halloween mask just trying to clean the planet, like ive seen it but it avoids people like the plauge

🐩 useless-dog-lesbian

what the fuck do you mean youve seen it

10,027 notes

⚡ chucks-vent-blog

are you really living life if you havent gotten an expirience where your older sibling just dissapears or dies

⚡ chucks-vent-blog

like when i was younger my brother had these reaccouring near freak-accidents of him almost loosing an eye or an arm and i was trying to tell him that maybe he had annoyed this one animatronic he tried to freak me out with and he yelled at me and then told me to come find him after school and then it turned out he got hit by a car, i wish i could explain to people normally about this without ti sounding werid

🎫 silliestlittleguy

how normal is this expirience? not my brother but my cousin just dissapeared suddenly, i had saved up so many tickets just to get him a gift from the nearby arcade! :(

🍬 horse-sona

god this is so true, i had a step-sister who dispised me because i was getting all the attention and just out of spite ate my candy that was specifically given to me by the place we were visiting, the next day we found out she had snuck out and the car was taken elsewhere with no sign of her, we figured she ran away or something but its been so long we decided shes dead at this point

🐟 fish-enjoyer

my older brother tried to flush my pet sea bonnies down the toilet because he apparently saw them eating his fish or something, never saw him again after that and the only witness just said he looked blue, i still have no idea what that means

⚡ chucks-vent-blog

i did not expect this to be more common then i thought what the fuck

1,729 notes

🍂 phineas-taggart-official

hello tumblr! sorry for not posting, ive been working on getting some stuff for an experiment and they finally arrived, will keep you updated

🌱 gregsexperiments

phineas taggart had died afew hours after posting this, detectives believe this is the stitchwraiths doing

🦋 restingatdawn

frankenstein behavior

28,275 notes

🐇 bnuuygirl

just saw a girl in the school cafetirea disintigrate into trash, cant have shit in utah

7 notes

🥀 the-ravens-death

i just witnessed my crush talk to some basic girl all lovey dovey in the school and i just ran back home while all i want for christmas is you was playing.. im so tired i fucking hate everyone i hate my life i want to die im so tired

🦇 vampire-girl-shelly

guess all he wanted for christmas is her huh

384 notes

🦉 justanothermiddleagedguy

my collgues are such assholes man first i hear them just kissing in the game testing room out loud for some reason and then when its my birthday and they do some werid freaky birthday surprise they misspell my name, its not hard to spell jeremiah correctly i promise you

1 note

🥈 scrap-metal-enthusiast

might fuck around and kill someone else idk

#calico.exe #this took me forever ... the begining is a joke i am fazbear frights strongest soilder #fake tumblr dashboard #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fazbear frights #long post #fake post #unreality #dereality #<- just in case #I HAD SO MUCH FUN MAKING THIS i should make a part 2 #if my 2 mutuals like this idk #I WAS GETTING LAZY BY THE END IM SO SORRY THE USERNAMES ARE ASS DONT KILL ME

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tiajk · 6 months

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Black coded!Karasuno manager headcannons

Warnings: cursing, reader flirting with every fine man because she can, chaotic karasuno, karasuno being readers found family, fem reader, miss reader is poly and ain’t afraid to show it, some sappy feelings, probably spelled people names wrong

It’s chaotic with the mfs all they do it scream, shout eat and play volleyball

You did those things to but they’re more annoying

Tanaka and nishi always finds new ways to make you know your the goddess you are

The first years are intimidated by you even tuskki (it depends on the day)

the third years love you ur probably there favorite underclassmen

kiyoko and you are close like knit tight she loves all that you do for the team and it makes her job a little easier she know that when she leaves the boys will be in good hands

Okay anyways you’ve always known you were that girl like your a pretty black girl in japan who wouldn’t want you

While everyone in karasuno agreed with you so do other schools

which is why tanaka and nishinoya are on guard duty half the time

so guy tries to come ask you for your number *cough* Terushima *cough* they will and i repeat they will start barking at bitches screaming at the top of there lungs “NO WAY IN HELL YOU CAN HAVE OUR MANAGER SHES OURS” it pisses you off to every end especially if there fine (which is all because all hainaut boys are gorgeous)

they hate when you are flirting with the other teams at camps *cough* Bokuto and Akaashi* “Bokuto your spikes are so good you have to teach me” while giving him heart eyes which the boy is eating up because a pretty girl flirting with him and complementing his skill SOLD

you couldn’t forget about the pretty boy setter for Fukurōdani you would always tell him “Akaashi its great that you look out for bokuto like that” he would get the hints but didn’t act on them and you were a patient women you could wait “you and i should hang out i wanna get to know you more” you weren’t lying at all…

Now the boys were fumming you would give them water instead of your own team YOUR THE CLUB YOU SIGNED UP FOR they were but hurt except for suga he knew you had to claim them because you had told him that older men just hit different

anyways when yachi had joined you had welcomed her with open arms as always our girl yachi was scared out of her pants your were intimidating you had a resting bitch face and it scared her to be honest but when she saw you smile she got scared about how pretty you were (i cannon yachi is Bi you can’t change my mind)

You loved enoshita he may have been on the quieter side but he was a good friend when you really needed him you had majority of classes with him so of course you guys had a tight knit he’s the reason why you joined the club

hinata and kageyama you loved them but they were actually kinda stupid all they would do it scream ans yell at each other they were like your children when ever you would confront them about there behavior they would come up with so many excuses “Y/n BUT KAGEYAMA WHAT BEING ANNOYING” “I WAS NOT YOU SHITHEAD” rubbing your temples as they continued to argue “if you don’t shut up i will never bury you food again” They shut there asses right up after that (rich y/n?!?)

your third years were your favorites asahi, dachi, suga, and kiyoko we’re like your parents they always made sure that you were eating correctly, had enough money, and that your mental/physical health was good you are their favorite and nothing can change there mind they do get upset when you go after people there age they know it’s not a big difference but they just wanna make sure your safe

Dacahi almost had an heart attack when you told him when Shiratorizawa match was about to start that you wanted him to put you on with ushijima and tendou (he did only because they asked about you)

yams was a angel sent from heaven he was so kind you loved playing with his hair it was so soft and fluffy and it was like a stress reliever you were trying to set him up with tsukki he’s not slick i know damn well he has a crush on him and vise versa tsukki was a piece of work you always had a response for his snarky ass mouth

tanaka, *sigh* tanaka hairs dog number 1 has never and never disrespected you once he knows if he did that you would twist his ass inside out but in all seriousness he loves you it can be romantic or platonic but he would die for you defend you against any creep or someone that makes you feel not worthy he’s your hype man he’s one of your best friends you love this hot sister too he hates when you bring it up tho

Nishinoya guard dog number 2 he’s short ass hell and clings to you like a dog he has been on thin ice when he’s trying to flirt with you but he knows his boundaries he always wants to show you new tricks he comes up with but mostly rolling thunder

COACH UKAI not gonna lie you thought this man was one of the hottest men alive and you weren’t wrong he was honestly surprised when there was 3 manager but he didn’t care more help he secretly liked you the most he lets you have free meat buns and sometimes stuff from the shop but he makes you swear not to tell anyone

Takeda he made you so happy he was like your sweet older brother he always grateful that you love it with the club you always try to bring kk spare money because you know how hard he believes in the the boy and would do anything for them

in conclusion you love your “job” and the boys love you you wouldn’t know what to do without them

#haikyuu x reader #karasuno #karasuno x reader #haikyuu manager reader #tiajk #black coded reader

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stevenbasic · 6 months

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Growing into the Job, Post 353: That was Then, This is Now, p5

Melissa was crouched down alongside me, excited about giving me this virtual tour of the new office spaces using her laptop. She was positively beaming, and her size made me feel like a child with his pretty teacher as I sat like a kid at my oversized desk that Monday morning. I’d normally struggle with keeping my eyes from drifting down into the neckline of her low-cut white dress, but I was rapt in awe, and more than a little apprehension as I stared at the screen. I struggled to grasp at the sheer scale and enormity of this thing. I hadn’t seen anything about this before, believe it or not. The girls hadn’t let me even step foot on the construction site for the past few weeks - ‘it’s a surprise!’ they’d said, but I suspect there was more to it than that - so all I’d seen were the early blueprints before things really got started. Even those were ridiculously extravagant, and impossibly adventurous, but this…this looked even more incredible. Did she say it was almost finished??

She'd just shown me the interactive, digital replica with the soaring, Roman-temple inspired atrium with its jaw-droppingly huge statue of M-…of, uh, ‘Female Health’ towering over a new, opulently modern reception desk. The glass ceiling left the whole space awash with sunlight. Then she showed me the humble new entrance to our old practice here. It was left virtually unchanged as if they had simply built around it. Melissa assured me that this was so things would stay nice and familiar for my geriatric patients, but I couldn't help but notice how small it looked. It was completely dwarfed by the grand entrances and size of whatever the hell was going to be going on in those two new wings of the building.

Turning the camera around, Melissa ‘walked’ us by the desk and over to face the entrance to the ‘Evolution Wing’. She explained to me that this area of the walkthrough wasn’t populated with imagery yet, so its onscreen doors remained locked.

Huh. Apparently that area would be for continuing pharm studies, etc. I guess I wasn’t clear on why they need a whole wing for that, but whatever. How much research did they really need us for? Well, it’s their money. Theirs…and my ex-wife Sheryl’s. Who, with her enormous wealth, technically owned this entire building.

Speaking of which, how this whole thing got funded was beyond me; this company’s pockets seemed limitless. But, I reminded myself, I’d decided to stop worrying about it weeks ago. There’s nothing wrong with growing the practice, is there? Growth is good, bigger is better…

I suddenly noticed my eyes had, as if on instinct, finally drifted down Melissa’s top.

“Let’s check out the ‘Women’s Health’ wing!” she sang, bringing my attention back to the screen. Our camera made its way towards the rear of the atrium, under the imposing presence of the giant statue, and into a well-lit suite of separate clinics. Each one had their own separate entrance from the main wing. Down this impressive hallway I saw signs for ‘Internal Medicine’, a ‘Fertility Clinic’, even an ‘Aesthetics Center’, where Melissa told me Karen, the new APRN, would run a squad of cosmetic nurses and plastic surgeons. And… “We’ll have an ‘Adolescent Care’ department’?” I asked, baffled at the scope of what this place was soon to be.

“Sure yes of course!” Melissa lauded, excited, “Even the youngest women will need a place to come where they can be encouraged to, like, grow into everything they can be!” She sounded like she was reciting something that had been told to her, for sure, but whatever it was it was clearly something she believed.

“But, pediatrics?” I pressed, incredulously. Frankly, I was afraid of how far away things were getting from geriatrics, the specialty of my practice. Far Horizons was drifting, and soon I was going to lose even more of the little control that I still had..

“Oh, you’ll see, this won’t be just kiddies and boo-boos,” Melissa continued, “this’ll be where girls are taught and trained and, like, developed into what this new, changing world is going to need. Strong and confident female leaders, scientists and athletes, young women that can take care of things. It's important that they become healthy, empowered women who can lead us into the future.” Again, it sounded like a marketing angle, but one that had obviously already worked.

The camera passed through the doors into the ‘Adolescent Care’ unit, and I was shown a small, but beautiful new waiting room, a modest gym, and several well-appointed, modernly elegant exam rooms. Further in I spotted a procedure room along with what looked like several offices for new providers. This was obviously concerning, but before I could really think about it my attention was pulled away by something in the air, away from the screen and settling, once again, down into Melissa’s cleavage. Her big lungs swelled her breasts up with every breath, and a new wave of perfume had drifted up from her flawless, velvety skin. Breathing her in felt…good. It helped me relax and forget my worries.

Melissa was, no doubt, enthusiastic from the start to show me this virtual tour, and she seemed to be getting more and more excited as we went along. I could tell she really wanted to show me something, but all I could think was: You smell really good.

“Thank you,” she said, and continued talking. “But speaking of what the new world’s going to need, let me show you this!” she twittered, quickly now backing the camera out and away from the adolescent unit. A new door came into view, further down the main hallway of the new wing. “We even have a small clinic for men, too, a little place for them inside us,” she said, “And here it is!”

I squinted at the door, not really comprehending what I was reading on the small sign aside it.

“‘R-regression Clinic’??” I asked, my radar suddenly up, “What’s that?”

“Oh, Jay, I can’t wait!” Melissa beamed, bouncing a bit on her haunches and sending new jiggles through her upper chest, “Haven’t you heard? It’s the newest thing, a new movement in therapy to help couples really bond, get them closer, open up, like, new pathways of communication, break down barriers.” Our camera stepped right up to the doorway but Melissa stopped us there. “Katerina and Shanette have done such a good job setting it up. The counseling rooms and procedure areas are really nice but, y’know what?” she continued, smiling with giddy anticipation, “I'm going to save showing those to you ‘til we can do it in person. I already booked an appointment for us!”

She what??

“In fact, we can save the rest of the clinics for when I show them to you for real,” she said, “In the meantime, why don't we check out the basement.”

“The basement?” Couldn’t be too much down there, right? At the time the basement of the building had been used for some storage.

“Yeah, it’s incredible what they’ve been able to do. Expanding it I mean. You must have heard the blasting, all hours of the night? They’ve added in two…or, wait, is it three?…new sub-basements. Like whole new floors.”

I watched as the camera quickly sped down a hall and up to an elevator. Even in this mock-up walkthrough, we had to wait a moment for the elevator in the hall to bring us down to another floor. Whoever designed this must have been a real stickler for details I thought as we waited for the doors. Melissa, I noticed, could barely keep herself still. When the doors finally slid open and we stepped in, she took us down past the first basement levels down to the very bottom before mentioning that the virtual walkthrough didn’t have images for the pool yet.

“Wait…There’s a pool?!?” I asked, in disbelief.

“Yes, of course silly,” she giggled, “on the first basement level. I’ve told you about that! You’re so cute, so scatterbrained. I love that! But, yes - pool! For trainings and exercise, and there’s a nice hot tub that I think the Regression Clinic is going to use until theirs is finished."

I felt a chill rise up my spine as I thought about the last time I was in a pool.

"Don't worry, sweetie, you’ll be safe,” she assured me, “Men aren't even allowed onto that level unless there’s a lifeguard on duty. That reminds me - we have to hire a lifeguard!” Melissa giggled, maybe picturing exactly what I was, a hot young thing in a red swimsuit. “Now, The other levels aren’t for patients, it’s like cubicles and computers and stuff, and they’re supposed to be for girls-eyes only. But I’ll show you the bottom one anyway. It’s so cool!”

“What’s down there?” I queried, as the elevator hit the bottom floor and the virtual doors slid open.

“So far it’s a place for the construction workers, a whole floor,” she began. In front of us was a big, simple, starkly lit room that looked like something of a community space, a common area with large tables and benches. Like what someone might see in a school or church basement. Or a prison.

“A lot of them…well, all of them really…have stopped going home at night. Like, when their shifts are done they just keep working. They’ve just started camping out among all the construction when they need to sleep, and just wake up to work. They feel better here than they do…out there.” Along with the weirdness of what she was describing, Melissa giggled strangely. “I guess they just like it here so much! Even the ones with homes still would rather stay here now.”

“For real?” I asked, incredulously, but suddenly I was reminded of the queasy feelings I got when I stepped outside for too long, and a looming sense of dread began to slowly creep over me. There was something terrifyingly wrong about all of this, but at that same time it was all darkly thrilling. I watched the screen as the camera slowly came out of the elevator into the big, open common room. Unlike the upper level, the ceilings here were low, and though the area was likely the footprint of a small gymnasium, it felt strangely claustrophobic.

“Yeah. But, the construction’s almost done,” she continued, as we drifted in among the plain plastic chairs around a simple round table, “and some of them are homeless now, and the rest don’t want to leave. So, we decided to make a place for them, and any other men we hire. If they need a place to stay."

That surprised me. “Hiring men?”

“Oh, for sure! I mean, we’ve been interviewing and hiring for so many new positions. Girls, of course, for the clinics, the administration and blah blah. But Evolution wants to do some community outreach, help out the less fortunate,” Melissa continued, “So many men are unemployed now, and we figure we can use them for maintenance, cleaning, laundry, landscaping, right? Maybe even some basic data entry in one of the lower levels.”

“I…I guess?” I answered, still disbelieving what I was seeing and hearing.

“…and some of these construction workers are pretty cute,” she giggled, as the camera brought us to one of several doorways at the back of the room, “the girls kinda want to keep them.” This entry led to a low hallway off of which came a number of hostel-type rooms. Each room had multiple iron bunk beds, allowing each to sleep a dozen, maybe more. “Just look at these cages I’ve made for them…”

“C-cages?” I blurted, suddenly noticing now that, yes, the doors to the rooms were barred, like a jail’s might be.

“Well, haha, not cages!” she quickly corrected, “We just…want it to be secure, and safe, right? If there’ll be men living here, underground, we don't want them getting into trouble do we?”

“O-okay…” I hesitated, trying to come to the logic of it all.

“They're more like living areas…” she added.

…than, like… some sort of pen? Yikes. But… there was some charity in it I guess. If these men were homeless, and without work, weren't we just doing them a favor? They seemed to like it here.

The camera looked further down the dark hallway. There were lots and lots of these rooms. “How many of these people will be living down here?”

“Well, right now we think there’s about twenty surviv-…A-about twenty of them. Plus we have plans to bring in about a dozen right away.” she answered, a strange tilt to her voice, some heavier breathing as she turned the camera around to go back to the common area, “But we have plenty of room for a lot more once we need it.” She was excited for this, for sure, and trying to hide it.

“It…it looks nice,” I tried, just imagining what the real thing would look like in person as I did and doing my best to ignore the lingering sense of foreboding, which continued to breath chills onto the back of my neck. Something about this wasn't quite right.

“It will be pretty nice for them,” Melissa continued, as she breezed the camera past what looked like a small cafeteria. “It’ll be our own little far-...our own little community of men. We’ve included a few more feeding areas, back that way, all sorts of…uh, like, games and places for them to explore and hang out when they’re not working.” The camera was sailing through a labyrinth of smaller spaces, now, little halls. A room of video games. “They seem to like looking at pictures but they won’t have phones or computers…”

Because they can’t afford them? Or because you won’t permit it? I didn’t dare ask.

“...and haha we noticed that now that we have the statue up in the atrium, they spend a lot of their free time at night hanging around, sometimes even kneeling in front of it,” she explained, “but we can’t have that anymore so haha we made a little room with a smaller version of the statue that they can go to.”

“Another statue of you?!?” I asked, totally flabbergasted at what I was seeing. The camera had glanced into a small, dark chamber, lit by flickering, computer-generated candles. Indeed a smaller, maybe eight-foot tall copy of ‘Female Health’, stood inside. Made of a similar white stone amalgam perhaps, this one was placed in more heroic of a pose. It stood on a raised platform at the far end of the room, to look down at its admirers. “For them to….what??” Jerk off to you?!? “Down here?!”

“Remember, it’s not me!” Melissa giggled, as the camera backed out of the room, “You don’t have to be jealous!”

Is that a sign above the door? They call that ‘The Chapel’ ?!?

I looked to my right, to Melissa, still squatting aside me. If I hadn’t noticed it before, I did now. Her dress today was toga-inspired, for sure. She looked like a Roman goddess, unsettlingly too much like the statue even now, here.

“And, don’t worry, I’ll make sure they behave,” she continued, as our point of view on-screen shifted, “I have cameras everywhere, so I can watch over them. I'll make sure they’re nice and safe.”

…and not doing anything you don’t allow, I gather?

“Okay well speaking of staying safe, I can’t wait to show you where you’ll be living!” Melissa said ebulliently. She was moving the camera around a bit through the men’s chambers again, and I was suddenly afraid that she’d had a cell set aside for me down there, in the depths. “But the upstairs isn’t done yet. We’re still working on finishing the design and moving the walls around. Especially the third floor.”

“I’ll be u-upstairs?” I asked, feeling a sense of immediate relief. Had I known I’d be moving?

And the building has three floors now?

She sensed the change in my voice and giggled. “Yes of course, silly! You’ll be living upstairs, cutie, with me and the girls,” she said, as she moved to click a few keys and the animation of the virtual walkthrough closed off her screen. “There’s a big suite planned for me, and you’ll have your own ca-...your own little room inside it.” Crouching alongside me, she shifted a bit. “It’ll be so nice, when…when I can take you back to my new nest, I can make it all so comfy for you,” she said, and I heard the first hint of the throaty growl that signaled her arousal. “We’ll move all your stuff in, or just get rid of it all,” she said, making herself even more excited with the thought of it, “I’m going to have everything you need, get you anything you want. Mmmm….rrrrr….”

Oh…oh crap…

Jesus I was getting so hard.

“Oooo just the thought of it is getting me all kinky haha,” she laughed, “Mama’ll take good care of youuu….”

Oh god.

I saw Melissa glance up at the camera, which Gianna had been using earlier in our video chat and had since stood forgotten attached to my desktop’s monitor. She’d clicked off power to the screen, but the camera’s red light still blinked. Melissa smirked.

“Mama and her girls, her huge, huge hive of girls,” she continued, in a tone that had started to sound like gloating as she settled her hand on my iron-hard cock, though my thin, ripped scrub pants. “We’re getting so big, here, our little home. And we’re going to be…nnngh…hiring. Hiring more. Hiring so…many…more…girls…”

“Oh jesus Melissa,” I moaned, as she began to squeeze me.

“Picture it, baby, picture all the girls,” she purred, her eyes gleaming as she glanced up again at the camera. And then, with her large smile pointed at its blinking red light, she slipped her hand though the tear Morgan had left, up the front of my pants. “There are going to be so many of us, your swarm of girls growing and growing and growing. Will you like that? Having that many more of us?”

“Oh g-god yes,” I admitted, already picturing a crushing throng of them and then gasping as I felt her palm and fingers slip below me, to cup my chicken-egg sized balls.

Feeling how swollen I was, she purred her approval. ”It’s good that he’s all nice and full now,” she said, massaging my sac gently and making my eyes cross, “all ready for a productive day.”

With her free hand she tore away, like tissue paper, the remaining portion of my scrub pants from my hips leaving me fully exposed and helpless to do anything about it. She took my shaft in hand and began speaking right to it, right to my cock. ”This weekend I got used to being with you every moment, baby,” she cooed, “And I started to miss you already.” One hand still played with my balls while the other slowly began to stroke me. She cooed and clucked down to it, treating my penis like it was directly her lover. “Now, I want to suck you until there’s nothing left inside.”

In an instant she had turned me in my chair, on her knees got between my legs, and reached up to - for some reason - adjust the position of the monitor and camera.

“M-Melissa!” I exclaimed, trying to figure out what was happening.

You wanted to frame the shot perfectly, so she could see you do this. I didn’t realize it right then but I do now. You wanted her to watch. And seethe.

“Shhh shh shh…I know we have work to do,” Melissa said, trying to control herself and keep the growl out of her voice as she continued to talk directly to my cock. “We have to make sure Gianna knows you’re a good worker, she has to know you can get to work on time, that you can finish your paperwork…” She took a moment to put her hair up into a loose bun. “But I also want her to see how good an Office Manager I am. How good I am at taking care of you….”

“Oh god…” I moaned, letting myself submit to the moment, feeling the eyes of both Melissa and Gianna on me as I collapsed.

“Good boy,” Melissa lauded, and suddenly I was in her mouth. Stars exploded in my vision, even as my eyes clamped shut. She had me fully in, down to the base, and the muscles of her throat vibrated around me. Girls, girls all around me, through these thin office walls, they all stood suddenly at attention.

They knew what was happening. They could feel it. Could they…see me, too?

I could picture them, all about the office, trying to keep from groaning or smiling too broadly, knowing what was coming. Melissa in the meantime purred and moaned, and barely had to move or caress my testicles at all because with just two deliberate passes up and down my length, her mouth had me exploding, my hips bucking up into her as she laughed with gurgling glee around my manhood.

“uuungh…unnngh…unnghh…” I mewled, just trying to stay focused, stay conscious as - yes - she seemed to be sucking everything I had right up out of me. She was draining me, unburdening me, granting me my morning relief. She let me come, come completely, come completely down into her throat until I was fully spent and flaccid. We both knew I’d need it again, but for now-

“How’s that?” she smiled, finally pulling herself back up and taking me again in her hands, so she could gently caress my softened length as she laid me back down again along my thigh. She wiped the corner of her lip with a finger, and swallowed demonstrably. “All better?”

I released one last shuddering breath, and let my head nod forwards.

I passed out.

===============================================

thank you muchly to RiF for his help in editing

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