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irishmammonagenda · 2 months

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Death is a Debatable Thing-Obey Me x Reader

Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as an angel, as per usual; chaos ensues. Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Mention of Death, Cursing, Torture (mentioned, no torture happens) Michael is featured heavily in this, I just made up a personality for him, I don't play NB a lot (it makes me too sad) and I think he shows up there so if this is different to how he's portrayed there then L for me. Everyone except Luke was written as and can be read as Romantic(/platonic if you prefer)You can read Michael as Romantic, but I wrote him more Platonically.

post dividers from @saradika-graphics on tumblr (their dividers r really cool check them out if u havent fr (sorry for tagging you btw i just wanted to give credit)

"Absolutely not." You say, looking at your new found wings. "I did not die just to be reincarnated with the ugliest clothing I've ever seen."

"Would you have preferred to have been reincarnated as bare as Eve was in Eden?" The man you'd come to know as Michael. His dark skin shone in the blessed light of the celestial realm, his thick curly hair was pinned back in such a delicate fashion you wanted to unpin all the ornaments in it. Your fingers twitched at your sides.

"Isn't that against modesty rules or something...?" You paused, Simeon was an angel, he essentially had his ass out at all times anyway. Whore.

Michael stares at you weirdly, before playing with one of the loose strands of his hair, pulling the tight coil until it was completely straight before letting go and letting it spring back up again. Now you really wanted to mess up his hair. Just to annoy him.

"So anyway..." You start, sitting on a cloud that you fall through. For a moment you think you're about to pull a Lucifer and fall through the sky, but you manage to grab onto something and pull yourself up. That something is Michael's ankle and he's laughing at you, wiping a tear from ruby red eyes that shine just like that of his fallen brother.

"Stop laughing at me! Anyway, when can i go to the Devildom?" You inquire, watching Michael's face turn stern. He glares down at where you're lying, still gripping his ankle

"You're not returning to the Devildom anytime soon." He says sharply.

Your breath hitches. "Why not?! I have to let the brothers and Dia and Barbs and Sol and everyone else know I didn't die!"

"You did die. Why do you think you're an angel." Michael sighs, "and no. You're not letting them know you've returned."

"Why not?!" You repeat, outraged. "No offence though MC, but you´ve just died." "So?" You reply with indignation. "So," Michael says in a mocking tone, pitching his deep voice up high before letting it fall down the octaves once more. "You're barely able to walk on clouds or do anything yet. Letting you down to the Devildom is the equivalent of sending a baby bird into a den of lions."

"But...they'd protect me." You said softly, Michael's tone softens as well, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"They'd also over-protect you, they've just lost you. I don't think you're ready for that smothering just after your death."

You nod. Michael's soft expression turns devious, "Plus, this way, you have plenty of time to think about how youre going to scare my broth-...the brothers and everyone else whilst proving you're alive...well an angel..."

You grin too. "Amazing point Mr Michael."

He plays with his golden locks again, an idiosyncracy. "Anytime" He grins before beginning to walk again, you grab onto his ankle tighter. "Oh and Mc?"

"Yeah?"

"Call me Mr Michael again and I'm shaving all you hair off. And trust me. Angel hair does not grow back." He smiles evilly. You shudder.

Well it turns out Michael is a fucking liar.

After being a little bit too bored during your second month of being an angel and first month of learning not to fall through the clouds in Michael's private garden that consists purely of clouds and a singular harp he stole from some poor Irish Deity, you go bored and snipped your unnaturally long angel hair up to your waist. You didn't want to go too short just yet.

In the time frame of a week you learnt two things.

One: Angel hair does grow back, maybe a tiny bit faster than human hair, and Two, Michael was babysitting the harp. Turns out the Deity was called the Dagda and he was visiting France on holidays for some reason, poor man, having to go to France and deal with all the French People there. Turns out he left the harp in Michael's hands, something about Fomoranians not being smart enough to see this one coming.

You just nodded and slowly backed away. Michaels red eyes followed you. He and Lucifer had to be twins.

Another day passed. The more you thought about it, the more Michael and Lucifer had to be twins. After having cut your hair to just below your shoulders, you found a piece of unnecessarily fancy parchment paper and a quill on Michael's desk

Holding the black quill in your hands you felt a sense of familiarity wash over you. Was that?....

No fucking way.

Michael was using one of Lucifer's feathers as a quill. You cackled.

After much deliberation you'd realised you could not write with a quill, but also that you were very good at ripping paper and making blotches of ink on said paper with a quill.

You decided to snoop in Michael's desk for a pen, instead you found a drawer titled, 'LUKE ONLY' in cursive letters, the label was stuck to the drawer so obviously you opened it.

Colouring books, letters written by Luke from the Devildom, Report Cards, Crayons, Drawings, and a pack of stickers were left in the drawer, a notepad lay next to it, Michael's cursive handwriting all over it 'Activities to do', it had things like 'Bowling' and 'Baking' and 'Gardening' and 'Teach him how to knit' and 'Arts and Crafts' and 'Prank Jesus' and 'Take him to Human Realm Cinema' and and anything else really. You cooed, your ivory wings rustling happily.

You grabbed a crayon and began to write.

WHY MICHAEL AND LUCI ARE TWINS one; same eyes two; both evil three; both hot four; satan is basically luci's son if you think about it and michael has blond hair too, if luci and michael are twins that means that blond hair is in the gene pool and thats how satn has blond hair even though luci has black hair five; both like wearing dramatic cape coat things six; both of them baby luke seven; they ha

"What are you doing?" Michael asks, startling you, and ruining your next point of 'they have hands', "Why is my drawer open?" He grabs the parchment from you, reads it and bellows out in laughter.

"We are twins you could've asked." He smiled, "also put the crayon back thats Red and Luke likes colouring in Teddy Bears red."

"Yessir."

You were a master conspiracy theorist.

In the end, you and Michael had decided on visiting the Devildom for 'diplomatic' reasons, but upon seeing the glint in his eyes it was probably more for 'dicklomatic' reasons seeing as he's an utter dickhead.

You had a veil covering your face, seeing as you were still kind of legally and widely believed to be dead.

You know, the usual.

You walked behind Michael, attempting to kick at the back of his knees, it never worked sadly. You took a deep breath as you reached the RAD council room doors.

Michael grabs you by your shoulders whispering into your ear. "Now remember MC im going to use you as a bargaining tool, so keep that veil on till i say so, got it?" He grins.

You nod, knowing that 'bargaining tool' in Michaelish translates to 'im bored and want to see a dramatic reunion'

Michael opens the doors.

You walk in with him but stand at the door awkwardly, steeling yourself so you don't immediately run into any of your idiots' arms.

Luke apparently had the same idea, as when he saw Michael, he let out a happy 'yip!' kind of sound similar to a puppy's and then ran from where he stood beside Simeon and Solomon into the Archangel's arms.

Michael catches him happily, petting his head as the young angel nuzzles into his hair, blabbering on about who knows what. Asmo takes a photo of it, everyone else stares with varying levels of fondness, awkwardness and 'meh'.

Sadly for you however, once Simeon is done greeting Michael, and Michael is now distracted by Luke introducing him to Barbatos who is apparently the 'bestest baker in the world!' (you could agree with that sentiment), Simeon walked over to you, his serene smile on his face.

"Hello, I'm Simeon, forgive me for asking, but do I know you? You have a familiar aura."

You shake your head.

"Oh, never the matter" Simeon smiles, "What's your name then. my friend?"

You clear your throat and put on a deep american accent, "Rupert...Pleasure to meet you...Simeon.."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?"

"Certain." You say in the same ridiculous voice.

Simeon nods, he excuses himself after Solomon calls him over, you turn to glance at Michael who is carrying a now sleeping Luke in his arms and gently stroking the boy's golden hair while stressing out Lucifer with questions. Satan looks on with a smirk on his face.

Glancing around the room you see similar scenes, Mammon and Levi are playing a game on the latter's switch, Asmo, Solomon and Simeon are talking, sometimes glancing at you. Barbatos and Diavolo were watching Michael annoy Lucifer, with both sometimes adding their input, causing Michael to laugh loudly then stiffle it, so as not to wake up the sleeping baby in his arms. Beel and Belphie were near the others but still off in their own twin world, Belphie was awake and watching Michael bully Lucifer from where his head laying sleepily on his twin's leg.

Raphael, Thirteen and Mephisto had been sent out on a top secret mission the day before, Michael had said it was because he didnt want to die and also did not want his death to be put in the RAD Newspapers, especially a picture of him that was less than flattering.

Even though everyone seemed joyous, you noticed an air of sadness, like something was missing. Looking at your old seat in the student council you see the amount of flowers set on it.

Against your better judgement, you walk towards it. Not noticing a few pairs of eyes following you.

When you reach your former desk, you notice a photo of you framed, it was you and everyone, a family photo, everyone was either in their demon, angel or reaper forms, you wore really cheap red horns with a halo you shoved on one of them whilst also wearing an old reaper robe. It looked ridiculous, you loved it.

"Enjoying yourself? Rupert.~" a honeyed voice startles you. Asmo, although, somethings in his voice, maybe anger, maybe suspicion.

"Uhhh.." You say in your fake american accent.

"I'm Asmodeus, avatar of lust.~ Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Guess so." You shrug Americanly, thankful once more the veil covers your whole face.

Asmo's eyes have some hurt in them, he seems...catty, probably because you, who he thinks is a random stranger is just standing at his dead loved one's desk.

You open your mouth to say something, but no sound comes out, especially not when another familiar voice is added to the mix.

"Well hello. I don't believe we've met before. The name's Solomon. You must've heard of me."

Oh shit.

"Oh...I have, briefly! Hello Solomon, my name's Robert." You say in your fake deep american accent voice.

Asmo tilts his head, "I thought your name was Rupert?"

Shit.

"Oh. Yes" You quickly bullshit, "My name's got the hyphens, Robert-Rupert." You avoid eye contact despite the fact you have a veil covering your face that only lets you see out of it, so the sorcerer and demon can't even make eye contact with you, even if they wanted to.

This was getting awkward.

"You seem very familiar Robert-Rupert." Solomon says, you did not like that crafty smile.

"I get that a lot." You nod before walking away.

You walk towards Michael who, has a now awake but sleepy Luke in his arms, he sits on one of the sofas in the council room beside Simeon, with Barbatos, Diavolo and Lucifer facing them on the other sofa. Atleast you'll be safe from Solomon over here. As you walk, you notice Satan, Beel and Belphie have left. Either Lucifer was going to get pranked or Lucifer was going to get pranked but not as prankily because Beel unknowingly made puppy-eyes. Mammon and Levi were bickering quietly in a corner (shocking they could do it quietly) about who won the lat round of Devilio kart.

When Michael saw you approaching he waved you over, beckoning you to sit down in the empty space beside him, "This is an angel I'm currently training, their name is.....Steven."

Simeon tilts his head "I thought their name was Rupert?"

Michael clears his throat awkwardly.

You make your voice the deep horrible American accent, "My full name is Robert-Rupert-Steven...it's hyphenated."

Michael nods aggressively.

Lucifer, Simeon, and Barbatos side-eye eachother. Something was going on here.

"So, Robert-Rupert-Steven," Barbatos begins, his polite smile a little jagged at the edges, "I saw you at MC's desk earlier, how so?"

At the mention of your actual name, everyone there tenses up, Luke, thankfully is too sleepy to have realised, Michael quickly stands up with the small angel in his strong arms, knowing if he heard the conversation about to occur he would be upset, "I should probably go, give this one a walk around to wake him up a little. Simeon, would you like to come with me?"

Simeon nods, Michael and Him leave the council room, with Luke sleepily holding both of their hands and walking slowly along with them.

Now you were stuck with the Prince of the Devildom, the Scary Butler and the Scary Single-Dad. All of which haven't realised that it's you, and all of which thinking you are a random stranger.

"Well, Robert-Rupert-Steven?" Diavolo asks, his friendly demeanor the tiniest bit strange,"What captivated you to go towards MC's desk."

"Who's MC?" You decide to play it dumb. Bad decision, seeing as all three stiffen, Barbatos' being the most unnoticeable.

A very long 3 hour conversation went by, wherein, Diavolo, Lucifer, Barbatos as well as a certain Mammon and Levi who joined 10 minutes in, and an Asmo and Solomon who joined 12 minutes in talked about you, for 3 hours straight.

'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.' was an accurate reprenstation of your mental state actually.

The urge to just rip your veil off right there was almost stronger than the urge to dropkick Maddi anytime you remembered she existed. Keyword being almost.

You just about made it out of the council room with your life. Now for your master plan. Scare the absolute shit out of the Anti-Lucifer-League. That'll get them back for never listening to your amazing prank suggestion of leaving random origami swans around the house in random spots. It was genius!

Breaking into the House of Lamentation was always easy when you knew that Mammon hid his emergency house key behind the garden gnome that now you saw it....kind of looked like a really bad rendition of Michael. With its dark skin, A DnD-esque robe and, a horrible smiley face painted on it, and the worst crime of all, bright yellow, almost neon hair, and also a princess tiara.

You almost cackled.

Taking the key you slowly open the door to the kitchen and sneakily sneak in. Sadly for you, it was they key to the kitchen door to the outside of the back of the house, which meant it opened in the kitchen, and since it opened in the kitchen, you awkwardly waved at Beel, who was having a midnight feast.

Beel tilts his head. "You're the Angel from earlier. What are you doing here?"

You once more, fake your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice and say, "I have Materials for the Anti-Lucifer League as they've suggested."

You are such a good liar.

"Oh," Beel nods, normally he wouldn't let a stranger into the house, but something felt...familiar...and safe with you. "Okay then, do you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

Beel nods, and goes back to eating the pudding labelled 'MAMMONS: BEEL DONT TOUCH THESE'

After much searching, you do not find the Anti-Lucifer-League, but you do unfortunately, open the door to Lucifer's office. The place where Lucifer currently is.

He looks up immediately on guard. You are not prepared to die a second time,

"What are you-" He begins, in demon form and standing up.

You interrupt him, making 'woooooh!' sounds and waving your arms about, and in your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you say "Wooooh! I am the....ghost of christmas past!...Woooh! and I am..." You pause, not noticing your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice has began to slip away, and your natural one has taken its place. "I am here to tell youuuuu.....to woohhhh! Take breaks more! Woooh!....and not overwork yourself! Woooh!"

Lucifer pauses, the danger in his eyes fades into disbelief. He knows that voice. He's spent the better part of a year listening to recordings of that voice and praying to his Father for the first time since the celestial war for that voice to return to him.

"..MC?.."

You've been found out. Quickly you put your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice back on, except it's gone up 12 pitches. "Who's MC?! Haha! What a weird thing to sa-"

You don't get to finish, as Lucifer pulls your veil off. His breath hitches upon seeing your face.

Your covers been blown. All because you pretended to be the ghost of Christmas past. Great.

Lucifer immediately pulls you into a hug, arms tightening around you, as if he's afraid you'd disappear. He chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes, his frame shakes. "I thought-thought I'd lost you forever...I always thought your face was angelic...-...it's fitting."

You hug him just as tightly.

But ever the menace, after about an hour or so, you look up at the Avatar of Pride, "Say, Luci?"

"Yes, my dove?"

"Wanna help me prank the rest of them?"

"Perhaps...I might help with...some setups..." He pauses, "You are telling Barbatos outright though."

You shudder. "Of course I am. I don't have a second deathwish."

Lucifer's grip on you tightens slightly, you kiss his cheek in apology. "Sorry," You grin, "Too soon?"

"Try again in another century dear."

The next day, the first thing you and Lucifer do is travel to the Demon Lord´s Castle.

Barbatos greets you in the Entrance Hall, "Oh, Lucifer," He nods in greeting at the eldest of the brothers (second eldest actually, seeing as Michael enjoys bragging that he's older by a whopping total of 2 minutes) he turns to you, who put the veil back on, "And Robert-Rupert-Steven, Welcome to the Demon Lord's Castle, although, I must ask, why you have shown up today?"

In your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you accidentally, against your better judgement, and rather impulsively state; "I'm here to assassinate Dia-...volo."

A portal opens, dragging you through it, and you land in the feared rumoured dungeons. Barbatos follows gracefully, now in Demon Form. Leaving a sighing Lucifer in his wake in the Entrance Hall. He decides to just journey to Diavolo's office and discuss things related to work. Barbatos wouldn't hurt you when he found out it was you so he really had nothing to worry about. Maybe you'd finally learn to stop joking about assassinating Diavolo, especally when other Noble Demons were around at Balls.

Sadly for you, you were now alone in Barbatos' Dungeons. Now what's scarier than being alone in Barbatos' Dungeons? Being alone with Barbatos in Barbatos' dungeons.

Time to run away.

As it turns out, running away isn't very easy when magic chains pin you to the wall. In your panic, you blurt out, "You know, I'd rather you pin me to the wall haha!" in your normal voice. The fear forcing your horrible puns and jokes to slip out.

Barbatos, who had been approaching menacingly calmly with a torture device pauses so fast it gives you whiplash. (Better than getting whiplash from the whip he was previously holding.)

In some display akin to a cockroach kind of squirming about after you crush it, in your chained up state you manage to twitch enough that you were able to pinch a piece of your veil's fabric just enough that it falls to the ground.

Immediately, the magic chains fall away, strong arms catch you as you stumble. "Hi Barbs..." You say breathlessly.

Barbatos looks like he'd seen a ghost. (You were an Angel, thank you very much.) After your death he had tried and tried to pull a you from another dimension. It would never work, some force stopped him each time. (To be fair, it was probably your jealous ass. No way in Diavolo were you being replaced by yourself from another dimension.)

His bottom lip trembles, much like the rest of his body, as he leans in, "May I, my dear?" You nod, giving him your consent as he kisses you so gently, as if he feared you would break or fade away.

He murmurs apology upon apology for the fact he had no doubt frightened you, he couldn't risk a threat to Diavolo, your 'death' had left him a little...tethered and emotional.

You close your eyes and kiss him again, now noticing you're in the kitchens and not in the spooky scary dungeon.

"Wanna bake cookies? Like we always used to do?"

Barbatos nods softly. "You do have to tell Lord Diavolo you're actually alive though, little lamb."

Your eyes light up. "We could make a cake! And hide me inside it!"

Barbatos sighs, but looking at your puppy eyes, he agrees. Gently he picks a stray ivory feather from your wings, making them rustle at the touch. Devil...you looked angelic.

Baking with Barbatos was always fun, but sadly he did not agree with your attempt at throwing flour at him.

"MC?" He catches your attention, bringing an ungloved hand to caress your face, "Have I ever told you that you shine brighter than all the stars in the Devildom?"

You blush and try to cover your face when he turns away to add more eggs into your batter only to find flour on your face. That sneaky bastard! Psychological warfare is illegal. And that sure felt like it.

It was on.

Apparently it was only on for you though. Though you did get a speck of flour on Barbatos' apron. That was a win, especially if you ignore the fact that your face and apron were covered in the white powder, which you were ignoring! So take that Barbatos!

In the end, the cake was beautiful, Barbatos helped you into the cake, and cut out a you shaped hole out of the layers made.

He then helped you out again, and the Flour War began again only this time with icing.

Hiding in a cake is quite a fun experience. Especially when you can take bites of your hiding space. Yum yum.

You feel Barbatos' wheeling of you stop as he reaches Diavolo's office, he knocks on the door, and as you requested, begins to film on his DDD (you had to promise the video would never get out of your hands.)

Diavolo sat alone, Lucifer had had to leave an hour before, Beel had went on a rampage in Hell's Kitchen again apparently.

"My Lord, I feel you have been feeling down, so here is a treat." Barbatos says, "And as a special treat, I will allow you to cut it yourself." He nods at Diavolo who you can just picture has stars in his eyes as you hear the demon butler walk to a corner of the room, still filming.

Diavolo brings the knife to the cake, as it cuts into it, you grab the blade and pull it forward. Upon hearing Divaolo's confused murmurs, You peek through the tiny hole the knife made, seeing Diavolo distracted, tilting his head like a child and asking Barbatos what he should do now.

You however know what you should do now.

Quick as a flash, you shove your hands through the cake, reach for Diavolo's arms and pull him in face first.

You didn't even care if it was probably treason. Diavolo's suprised screaming and Barbatos' slight surprised chuckle was so worth it.

It was worth it for Diavolo even after 4 hours, as he held you in his big arms, whilst the both of you were still covered in cake. Barbatos, the traitor, snapped photos of this and sent them to Lucifer.

On a great note, Diavolo agreed to help prank the rest of the brothers with you, much to Barbatos' dismay. (The butler was definitely going to help you with a certain sorcerer, however)

After a night and day at the castle and a very extensive bath, you recollected your veil, and snuck out (read: Barbatos and Diavolo waved goodbye to you and gave you some left over cake for the journey home) of the castle, you began your walk to Purgatory Hall.

Michael was staying there, and you needed to tell him everyone's reactions so far.

It was also a Saturday, meaning that Solomon would be out in Sorcerer's society meetings all night and morning.

When you got there you made use of the tree there and climbed up it until you saw something in Luke's room. You paused your climbing and looked in through the window.

Two figures were in the Young Angel's room.

As Luke lay tucked in in his bed, cuddling the dog plushie that Mammon had given him at a carnival last year that he claims to have thrown away, Michael and Simeon sat on his bed, the nightlight on the boy's bedside table created a gentle glow that the two elder were using to read the storybook strew across both of their laps aloud, they appeared to be acting it out ever so slightly. When Luke finally drifted off. Both Angels kissed his forehead then dimmed the nightlight down slightly, dim enough where it wouldn't hurt the boy's eyes but bright enough that the dark wouldn't scare him if he woke up in the middle of the night, keeping the curtains open for added light.

You cooed silently, your white wings rustling.

Snapping out of it, you scale across the wall before finding the spare room Michael was staying in and breaking in.

"Hello Motherfucker." You greet the Archangel.

"You couldn't pay me to fuck your mother."

"Harsh. And here I was about to tell you my escapades..." You sigh dramatically. Michael immediately smiles sweetly. Buttering you up. You cave.

After about an hour of Michael laughing at you specifically, and then changing your contact to 'ghost of christmas past' the bastard finally fell asleep.

Feeling thirsty, you snuck downstairs into the kitchen to get a drink, and also a sharpie so you could draw a mustache on Michael's face. Not bothering to put your veil on seeing as no one would be awake anyway.

As you filled up a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter drinking it, lost in your own plans, mainly of who to prank nest and how to do it.

You don't hear the little pitter-patter of feet until it's too late.

"MC?" A sleepy Luke stands in the doorway in cat themed pajamas no doubt gifted to him by a certain someone, he holds his dog plush loosely as he rubs his eyes with a tiny fist.

He walks slowly towards the cupboard, pouting sleepily when he realises he can't reach it, you immediately grab his favourite mug,(the one with the red tractor on it) knowing to put milk and some sugar in it before placing it in the microwave for 2 minutes.

Luke walks over to you still half asleep, resting his face on your side, you bring him in for a hug. "Simeon said you went to a happy place after you left, he always got sad when I asked when you were coming home..."

You bite your lip and speak softly, "My flight got delayed for a little while," You lie. Luke didn't need to know you died, Simeon hadn't told him in the best of ways to shield the young boy, that worked out in your favour.

You catch the microwave before it beeps, taking the warm milk out and stirring the hot-spots out of it before handing it to Luke. With his teddy now in the crook of his elbow, he sleepily took the mug before putting his tiny hand in yours.

"C'mon Luke, let's get you back to bed." You say softly, he nods tiredly.

"Will you tuck me in? And read me a bedtime story?" He yawns quietly.

"Of course."

After closing his curtains and tucking Luke in, he snuggles up to you and you read him a bedtime story, after drinking his warm milk, he falls asleep quite quickly, so do you.

A mistake, really. Seeing as in the morning when Simeon comes in to wake the small angel up and sees you there he lets out a shriek very out-of-character for him.

A shriek which wakes both you and Luke up.

Luke smiles toothily, "Oh Simeon! MC came back last night! Did you not see?"

Simeon collects himself, "I must've been asleep Luke, why don't you get dressed then come down for breakfast? Michael and I made pancakes. M-MC, why don't you come downstairs now?"

Luke nods and gets up dutifully.

As soon as you leave the room and Simeon is sure you're both out of the earshot of Luke, he pulls you into a hug which you return.

"I thought I'd lost you.." He breathes out softly.

"Me? C'mon Simmy...you know I'd never let death keep me." You laugh, he laughs breathlessly.

"I suppose not...." He captures your lips in a soft innocent kiss before leading you downstairs, hand-in-hand.

When Michael sees the two of you he offers you a pancake, far too casually for Simeon's taste.

Simeon looks between the two of you and glares at Michael. "You knew about this."

"Haha! Funny story actually! I need to go help Jesus! He's gone and ventured into another desert!" Michael laughs nervously before booking it, only coming back when Luke appears, knowing then he's safe from Simeon's wrath....

....for now.

You took out your super serious napkin and crayon that you stole from Diavolo (read: Diavolo gave you) and crossed out Simeon's name.

Your list was now as follows:

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

For Satan and Belphie, you could knock out two Anti-Lucifer-League Birds with one stone. It felt a little mean to prank prank Levi and Beel...Mammon and Asmo were debatable, but you were going all out on Solomon. That'll teach him to turn you into a sheep that one time 2 years ago.

After careful deliberation and planning, (20 seconds of thinking.) You'd decided to sneak into the Sorceror's society and jokingly attempt to assassinate Solomon, and maybe fully assassinate Maddi if she was there. Not maybe, definitely.

Veil over your head, you walked in, when the sorcerer guards stopped you, you just pretended to be Michael then walked further in. Apparently they were terrified of the Archangel. Damn this society needs better sorcerers securitying it.

After stealing schedules you realised Solomon would be in a meeting right now with a bunch of no names. Oh well.

You crept into the meeting and attempted to plunge the butter knife Barbatos' gave you from the castle kitchens specifically for this in his neck, knowing he'd dodge. "This is for the Sheep Potion you Rat Bastard!" You screech like a Bean Sídhe. After half a millisecond of shock and slight anger, Solomon realises who it is behind the veil, laughing he grabs the arm you're holding the butter knife in and drags you into his lap, gently ripping the veil off of you and giving you a peck on the forehead, before he turns to the shocked and slack-jawed sorcerers that looked older than he did. "Sorry all, my adorable partner," He puncuates the word partner by pulling you closer to him, "missed me a little too much. and has-" He kisses you on the lips passionately for a moment, leaving you very much breathless and him very much chuckling, "-strange ways of showing their affection."

Bastard.

Some time into the meeting you whisper, "How are you not more shocked?"

"Well Robert-Rupert," He whispers teasingly back to you, "Remember that binding spell we did back when you were alive? It never broke. I knew the moment I saw you."

Your heart stops. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"I debated telling Asmo, but I suppose you wanted to on your own terms." He teases.

"I should've tried to stab you with a sharper knife."

Solomon laughs, "Oh and MC my love?"

"Hmm?"

His eyes glint predatorily, "You look absolutely ravishing as an angel. I can't help but want to corrupt you..."

You bury your face in his chest to hide your blush.

Bastard.

On the bright side, now a rumour that Solomon the Wise and Michael the Archangel are secret lovers has spread around the Devildom. You're counting that as a win.

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

After your encounter with Solomon, you'd decided learning to just hide your angel form was the best course of action. Luckily it was fucking easy and you could've done it ages ago. Strange how Simeon and Luke never mentioned it....meh. You're pretty sure Luke just thought Michael thought you were super cool so he made you an angel. You weren't telling him anything otherwise.

´Satan and Belphie watch your fucking backs.´ was the pedal note of all your thoughts currently, you´d snuck back into the House of Lamentation, thankfully Beel was not in the kitchen, he was at Fangol at this hour.

Walking through the halls stealthily, you heard whispers as two sets of feet seemed to enter the room at the farthest end of the hallway. Lucifer´s room.

You fucking caught them.

No time to be caught in Lucifer´s room, seeing as if you were there long enough and Lucifer caught you, you would not be leaving for a good while.

So you crept up to the attic, the official Anti-Lucifer-League headquarters, you climbed the pillars to get on the roof and you waited.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, snickering could be heard coming up to the attic. Satan opens the door, letting Belphie in, both brothers in various fits of sniggering as they walk into the room.

"He'll never see this one coming!" "This is our best one yet."

From your place on the attic ceiling, you spot Lucifer filming on his DDD from the shadows of the doorway. Of course he found out about this.

"Of course it's our best one yet!"

You swing down off of the ceiling beam, swinging lightly upside down. "And you didn't invite me?" You pout.

Satan and Belphie scream, clutching onto eachother, before noticing that it's you and running to pull you down and clutch onto you instead. You notice Lucifer chuckle and put his DDD in his pocket before leaving. Traitor.

You cuddle into your two Anti-Lucifer League Brethren, maybe this wasn't so bad. (Of course it wasn't, you loved your idiots.)

Safe to say, you didn't leave the attic for a long time. Apparently people need time to process that you're not actually dead. What madness.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

You had long unentangled yourself with a sleeping Belphie and Satan, making sure to leave a:

it wasnt a dream dont worry lads im alive.

note on their chests just in case.

Sitting in the attic with your napkin and crayon in hand, you ripped the Purgatory Hall part off of it and used the back of it for that note, you scanned through the list. You should save your First Man for last, so your next options were Beel, Asmo and Levi.

Seeing as you've shown yourself to Belphie, it's only natural your gentle giant is next.

Watch your fucking back Beel. Literally

Speaking of, it's been a few hours, Beel should be coming back from Fangol practice any moment now.

As was routine at this point, you crept through the House of Lamentation's halls and quickly ran into Beel and Belphie's shared bedroom.

As Beel walked into the room, his Fangol bag slung across his chest and a pile of after Fangol snacks in his hands, you braced yourself, made a run for it, anf landed right square on his back, arms around his neck to keep from falling.

"Oh hi MC!" Beel hummed cheerfully, before his eyes widened and he dropped his snacks. "MC?!"

"Hi!"

Quick as a flash, Beel maneuvers himself in 'dying cockroach you in Barbatos' dungeons part two' and grabs you into his arms.

"I thought you died..." He said, smelling your hair as he cuddled you.

"I did. I just came back as an angel."

"Really?" His breath hitches, "Can I see?.."

You take a deep breath and your wings and halo pop out, he strokes them gently.

"You're beautiful..." He whispers, enraptured...."I think...out of all of Father's creations over the years since the celestial war...you're the most precious...."

He speaks softly, always the gentle giant, the moment lasts for just a moment, before the moment, like all moments do, has passed. Beel's stomach rumbles and you giggle.

"You should eat your snacks, Beelie.."

"They always taste better when we share." He nods seriously.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

Levi or Asmo? You bit your crayon in thought then immediately made a face. Crayons did not taste nice.

Speaking of things that did not taste nice, you remembered that one time you tried to eat Levi's controller because you were bored.

Levi it was!

You had to time this perfectly, waiting in the shadows until Levi went down to get a snack, you snuck into his room, saying the answer to his password out of pure habit, before sitting on his gamer chair and maneuvering it in such a way he would not be able to see anyone on it from the door.

When Levi walked into his room, a bag of crisps in hand, he took a few steps before you swung around "Boo!" and he screamed. Dropping his crisps.

After convincing him you were infact not a ghost (Unlike Lucifer's), you sat with him in your arms, watching anime, and getting caught up on the new episodes released.

You cuddled up to him in his bathtub that night. You grinned evilly. This gave you an idea.

House of Lamentation Mammon LeviSatan Asmo Beel Belphie

It was no secret that Asmo bathed a lot. Funfact, Angels can hold their breath for 30 minutes!

As Asmo was busy picking out which pajamas he wanted to wear after his bath, you tiptoed behind him and slowly got in his bath, hiding under the bubbles.

It took a total of five minutes before Asmo closed the door to his bathroom and got into his bath, this was your chance! Reaching out, you grabbed his foot and pulled him under.

He screeched, when got back above the surface of the water, he grabbed your hand and pulled you over.

He squealed this time, hugging you tightly.

"Oh MC darling!~ I thought you were...well never the matter~...." He punctuated each word by kissing your face all over, leaving you squirming in his grasp out of embarassment. "How naughty!~ Sneaking into my bath like that...~...not that you arent always welcome my lovely!~"

"A-asmo," You say, your clothes soaked, though you couldn't find yourself caring. "Asmo, I love you..." your voice is soft and the Avatar of Lust coos.

It was a nice night.

Time for your final victim. Your First Man. Feeling nice, you decided not to do something too mean.

Painstakingly, you made a trial of grimm from the front door to your First Man's room, more specifically; to his bed. The plan was to hide behind the door and jumpscare him while he was busy collecting the grimm.

Unfortunately for you, seeing as you weren't sure when Mammon got off his modelling shift, you'd finished far too early, and since you and Asmo were up the entire night, you were quite sleepy.

Surely a little 5 minute nap wouldnt hurt?

You woke up hours later to a sobbing Mammon on top of you, cuddling you in his arms like his life depended on it. It seems you'd falled asleep on his bed, more specifically in his nest.

In the nest you would normally sleep in while alive. (While Human technically, seeing as you are alive, just not human.)

You bring a hand to his snowy locks, he sobs harder. Like his brother, kissing all over your face softly, "Thought I lost ye' forever Hum'n" he gasps for air, his sobs quieting down, "Though' you were gone....I prayed ev'ry nigh'...." he says, voice barely above a whisper as he strokes your cheek, looking into your eyes. "I prayed ta Fath'r ev'ry nigh' since ye' died...that he'd bring ye' back te me...."

"And he did..." You say just as softly, bringing your hand up to wipe the tears from his eyes, sharing a soft kiss with him. As always, your greedy lovable bastard would want more, and you'd want nothing more than to give them to him.

And the next day when you told Michael you'd be staying in the Devildom he cheered, then told you to include him in this 'Anti-Lucifer League business' because it 'seemed fun'.

Wow. Now you knew where Satan got it from. Poor Lucifer, he just barely got away from Michael in the Celestial realm, and now he has to deal with Michael 2.0 in the Devildom.

Satan and Michael really were kind of similar....maybe it's a good thing they've only met in passing.

Moral of the story kids. Death sucks, don't do it. If you do do it, reincarnate. Bam! Problem Solved.

This is the longest ever fic I've ever wrote and probably does not make a lot of sense so I apologise for that. I also apologise for any ooc behaviour i'm still learning how to write characterisation😔✊

also i love thinking of Michael being a father figure to Luke and its very obvious

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httpisaoki · 1 month

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'till death do us part ft. yu jimin

sypnosis. after 10 years of marriage, even if it was only an arranged marriage, you thought that she would at least stay loyal. least to say the sounds coming from your shared bedroom last night weren't just nothing. and the moment you shove the divorce papers to her face, she couldn't let you go just like that, can't she?

tags. domestic au, non-idol au, ceo au, cheating, angst, crying, wlw, marriage

warnings. cheating, arranged marriage, karina CHEATEDDD, oooo you mad mad, crying, ANGST. (that's all i think?)

-> part two. not proofread!

last night was foggy, karina had woken up naked, her fling right next to your side of the bed, an empty feeling in her stomach. she shouldn't have done that, she thinks, but it's too late. it's happened more than she can count and she knows that the fling she had wasn't going to end anytime soon. she feels guilty but you never liked her, or did you?

Now she stands across from you, the silence in the room makes her nervous. the papers in your hands made her anxious, she couldn't lose you. the tension in the room could be sensed miles away, you were mad--- and she knew it.

it's all clear in the way you stood against the door, a hint of anger radiating off your body. karina was scared, she felt the sweat on her palms, her eyes fixed on those papers on your hands as if she could burn a hole through them if she stared long enough.

"please... just... wait a moment." she pleaded.

why should she get her way when she had been the one who betrayed your trust? her infidelity wasn't excusable in any way. "I don't have all day." the tone of you voice cold, she knew if you was angry— she wouldn’t have a chance.

she wanted to whimper in fear, the coldness of your voice could send her to tears, a tone that would make even the most powerful man cower in fear. she could feel the blood rush out of her face, her legs shaking, she just couldn't let you go.

and then the moment of realization hit her, the tone of your voice, the way you were standing and the glare of your eyes had reminded her of something, a memory that she'd tried so hard to bury away..

"Please..."

she wanted to cry, but the fear of you turning her down stopped her tears from falling. she'd cheated because of her own problems, her own loneliness, and her own issues but she was still your wife. she was still yours.

she begged again, a tone of desperation in her voice.

the last thing she'd want was to lose you... but she knows it was her fault.

the words that would come out of her mouth right now could make or break your marriage.

she takes a deep breath, looking up at you, trying not to cry from the fear that was rising in her chest, a knot tying in her throat.

"please... i know that i cheated but..."

"stop." the ice in your tone was unforgiving, the lack of patience in those eyes would make just about everyone shut up and listen. you weren't going to be easily manipulated anymore.

"i don't want to hear it." she flinches at the tone of your voice, her eyes fluttering for a moment before she forces herself to look up again.

her eyes fill with sadness, those pleading words were stuck in her throat, a lump taking place in her mouth.

"after 10 years, really? I knew this would never work out." the anger in you voice had made her shiver. "but to think that you'd cheat with jaewook, one of my employees too, huh?" the venom in your voice forced out a bitter chuckle. "h-he..." the words stuck in her throat for a minute, she couldn't believe that you knew of her affair partner, then she shook her head slightly. "yes, him.."

the fact that you knew his name made her want to shrink. your eyes pierced through her, you knew every single detail of this entire ordeal. you knew how often this had happened between the two of them, you knew she had betrayed you the moment she accepted a drink during the business dinner.

her lips parted for a moment, her brain scrambled, panic and fear consumed her. she could see your anger now, you knew everything, she was caught red-handed. "you...you know everything.." her voice cracked as she spoke. You scoffed, "you didn't think that I'd be stupid enough to not keep tabs on you?" you smiled sarcastically,

"we had agreed on none of us seeing anyone and being faithful even if our marriage was arranged, right? I had to make sure. and I was right, you didn't stick to your promise, karina." the way her name rolled off your tongue, the tone of disgust as you said it.

the way you had said her name, her own name, with a tone of disgust made her want to sob. you knew everything, every single detail of this affair, every detail that she thought she'd hidden so brilliantly.

she gulped, her throat drying out at the fact that you were well aware that she's betrayed your trust. you had kept track of her, you had kept her in your palms the whole time and she was foolish enough to do such thing under your nose.

"beg all you want, I don't care." you spoke harshly, "you know how I don't tolerate cheating." the cruel nature of your response made her flinch. her lips parted for a moment before she said, "don't you care about me? don't you...don't you love me?"

as much as she was guilty for her infidelity, she still hoped that you liked her, that you cared for her, that you saw her as your wife despite the arranged marriage. but the tone of your voice made it clear that you didn't, that the only thing you were capable of feeling was anger, hate-- disgust.

you scoffed, "why didn't you asked yourself that before you went into bed with him?" a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "don't..." she wanted to sob, the humiliation of you reminding her of her own infidelity was torture. but the fact that she did it to herself was even worse, she was the only one to blame. but it's not like she had done it out of pure lust... no, it was her need of validation-- a need for some form of connection with a man. she'd felt so lonely in the marriage, but that wasn't your fault. she gulped, her eyes fixed on yours as the tears fell.

"Who do you think took you home after all those stressful nights that you drank until you passed out? who do you think supported your company after all those years? was it him or was it me?" your tone was cold but the look in your eyes showed that you were hurt.

"it was you..." she was reminded of all the times you'd picked her up from work after she finished her work, the times you've carried her to bed when she had passed out, the times she'd called you in tears. she owed her success to you, to your support.

a knot took place in her throat but the words couldn't come out, she couldn't find a single excuse for her infidelity. "you did...everything for me."

You hummed, "just because I didn't show it doesn't mean I didn't care. you out of all people should know that." you let out a shaky breath.

she gulped, she couldn't believe that she had thrown away 10 years of marriage for another man. your cold demeanour, your unapproachable nature, all of it was a wall she had slowly started chipping away over the years but the fact that she was the one who initiated that affair was the saddest thing of all.

"please, I'm sorry..."

"can we give ourselves another chance? please...we can...we can start over..." her knees were nearly giving out at that point, the thought of losing you was far too terrifying. but she was the one to mess up the marriage...

but you had been so kind the whole time, despite the fact you didn't show affection, she could see that you cared in your own way. she just had to prove that she was worthy of your attention-- your love.

"fill out the papers, karina." your voice was soft, wanting to get this over with already, you tossed her the papers. "no...wait..."

her heart was racing, she couldn't stand this anymore. the thought of losing you was enough to make her knees buckle, her heart sinking to her stomach. but the papers...

they were for the divorce, your divorce papers...

she looked down at them, her fingers trembling, the tears running down her face, and she thought of one thing and one thing alone.

she should've never cheated.

-> idk if this is a teaser for an upcoming series of mine or if this is just my karina rip post idk but yeah, thanks for the support !! :)

#aoki's works #aespa x reader #yu jimin x reader #karina x reader #kpop x reader #angst

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springtyme · 1 month

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 ♡

Carmy x afab!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist

Previous chapter || Main masterlist || ao3 || Next chapter

chapter summary: You and your neighbor share a cigarette, and you have an unexpected chat with his sister... Carmy kind of wants to strangle Richie.

word count: 7.4k

warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Smoking. Food. Angst and fluff. Hurt/comfort. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Strangers to friends to lovers. The beef as found family. Set in season one.

a/n: This chapter was supposed to be about twice as long, but we are gonna wait with the rest till next chapter. this might mean that there will end up being an extra chapter in the end.

"I need some sleep It can't go on like this I tried counting sheep But there's one I always miss"

“I’m Carmen… Carmen Berzatto.”

Oh… Now the pieces start to fall into place - the tattoos, the exhaustion, the haunted look in his eyes that felt so familiar. A mix of sadness and understanding washes over you.

“But uh… Carmy is fine,” he adds, the tiniest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Nice to meet you, Carmy.” You smile at him before telling him your own name, feeling a little embarrassed you didn’t tell him earlier, and a short silence follows, before you gently clear your throat. “Well, shall we?”

“Yeah.” Carmy responds with a small nod of his head as he follows you down the hallway towards your apartment. The short walk feels oddly awkward and comforting at the same time.

As you step inside, you gesture for Carmy to follow you into the kitchen. You turn on the cabinet lights and motion for him to take a seat or stand wherever he prefers before grabbing a couple of mugs from the cupboard. There is still hot water on the kettle for you to make a new cup of tea.

“You want normal or decaf?” you ask, holding up the coffee canister. Carmen’s tired eyes light up a little at the mention of coffee.

“Normal, please, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep anytime soon, and I have to leave for work in three hours” he lets out a soft, breathy sound, something between a sight and a chuckle, the sound weary but genuine, and a clear touch of gratitude in his voice. You put a filter in the coffee maker and pour the coffee grounds into it, the aroma slowly beginning to fill the air. As the coffee brews, you plop a tea bag into your own mug before pouring in the hot water. You take a moment to glance at him, his tired expression evident as he leans against the counter.

You notice the way his eyes flicker around the room, taking in the small details of your kitchen that must be mirroring his own, before his gaze lands on you. Your eyes meet for a split second before you quickly look down at your steeping tea, feeling how your pulse quickens slightly from getting caught staring.

You clear your throat and decide to break the silence. “So, how does a chef end up starting a kitchen fire at 3 in the morning?” you say in an attempt to lighten up the mood, but you immediately cringe at yourself, it probably wasn’t the most tactful question to ask. You’re not normally this awkward, but you also don’t normally have strangers in your apartment in the middle of the night like this.

“I-ehm… I was actually cooking in my sleep, I woke up to the fire alarm.” He confesses, sounding a little embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Oh,” is all you say, not really knowing what else to come up with. You take a moment to process Carmen’s response, trying not to let your surprise show on your face. Cooking in his sleep? That certainly wasn’t a typical explanation for starting a kitchen fire. “I guess sleepwalking and cooking don’t mix well,” you end up replying, feeling a bit silly for stating the obvious.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding in agreement. “I suppose not.” his voice laced with exhaustion, and another long stretch of silence unfolds between you. You are just about to open your mouth to say something to break it - what, you don’t even know, but you are saved by the coffee machine beeping, indicating that the coffee is ready. You quickly pour the hot coffee into a mug, happy for the natural interruption of the awkward silence.

“Cream and sugar?” you ask him, smiling politely.

Carmy nods gratefully. “Just a little cream, please.” You carefully pour a dash of cream into the mug, watching as it swirls and mixes with the fragrant dark coffee before placing the mug in front of Carmen. He takes a sip, his tired eyes closing momentarily as he savors the warmth.

“Thank you,” he says softly, the gratitude evident in his voice. You just smile at him. Taking your tea, you lean against the counter on the opposite side of him.

The two of you fall into a now more comfortable silence, the only sound filling the room being the occasional sip of coffee or tea. You cannot help but glance over at him every now and then, taking in the tired lines of his face, the way his eyes seem to hold a thousand untold stories.

After a few moments of sipping your tea in silence, Carmen breaks the silence, pointing at one of the pictures on your fridge. “Is that from Copenhagen?”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips as you look over at the picture. “Yeah, it is. I got a job offer here in Chicago and thought that it might be time to try something new, I moved here six months ago, but before that I lived in Copenhagen. I like it here, and I’m really enjoying my new job, but I do miss it.”

“Yeah, Copenhagen’s really beautiful,” he says, still looking at the picture.

You lean forward, feeling a spark of conversation ignite between you and Carmen. “So, you’ve been?”

“Yeah, I actually lived there for a while, when I worked at Norma.” He says it so casually, but you can’t help but feel a surge of surprise at his casual mention of working at a renowned three-Michelin-star restaurant.

“Wow, that’s really cool,” you say, genuinely impressed. “What was it like?”

Carmy smiles softly, a nostalgic glint in his tired eyes. “It was intense, but also really… rewarding?” he says, his voice trailing off slightly as if lost in memories. “The chefs there pushed me to my limits, I learned so much during my time there, but, yeah, it was definitely hectic...” He pauses, a hint of melancholy in his voice, he seems to be caught in his own thoughts for a moment before he lightly shakes his head and turns his attention back to you. “What about you, what do you work with?”

“I work in theater, I’m a scenographer,” you reply, feeling a sense of pride as you talk about your passion. “I design and create the visual aspects of the stage production, from the sets to the props and the costumes. It’s a lot of work, but I really love it.”

Carmen’s tired eyes light up with interest. “that sounds really cool. It must be amazing to see your designs come to life on stage.”

“It is,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “It can be really demanding sometimes, but seeing everything come together during a performance… It’s like the best feeling I know. To know that your hard work is helping give people an experience. I really like that feeling”

He looks at you with a newfound glint in his eyes. You feel a warmth spreading through your chest from the way his eyes sparkle with genuine interest. “I think I know what you mean,” he responds, a sense of understanding passing between you. “It’s like when you create something with your hands and then see the final product, it’s a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.”

“Exactly,” you nod in agreement, feeling a sense of understanding with Carmen in that moment that you haven’t felt in a long time. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, both lost in your own thoughts for a short moment before he breaks the quiet.

“But, I’ll have to admit, I don’t really go to the theater that much,” he says, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Or like, at all.”

You chuckle softly, the conversation now flowing easily between you. “Well, don’t feel bad, most people don’t. And, I’ll also have to admit that I don’t really go to Michelin restaurants that often either… or at all.” This makes Carmy laugh – it’s soft and short lived, but genuine, and your heart sillily skips a beat by the gentle melody of it.

“That’s fair, but I’m not working at Michelin places anymore,” he says, his voice losing a bit of its newfound bravado and his smile falters slightly, a shadow passing over his features. “My brother, Mikey…” Oh… Michael was his brother, you feel a pang of sadness wash over you as you piece together the connection. “He left me his restaurant, It’s an old shithole of a beef spot. I’m trying to get it back on its feet, but it’s been a struggle, you know?”

You can see the weight of his words behind his tired eyes, the burden of responsibility and loss bearing down on him.

“I was in New York… I was the Chef de Cuisine at the Eleven Madison Park, and now I’m back here, trying to revive this place that I can’t even believe is still standing,” Carmen’s voice fades a bit at the end of his sentence, a sense of resignation and disbelief evident in his words. “It’s fucking bullshit.” You can hear the frustration and sadness in his voice, and you feel a surge of empathy for him. “But it also means fucking everything to me,” he adds, his eyes unfocused and tired as he gazes off into the distance before blinking and lightly shaking his head, his pale cheek redding a little.

He looks embarrassed at his little outburst, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he runs a hand through his curls in frustration. “Sorry,” he murmurs, the word hanging in the air as he looks down at his coffee mug. You can see the conflicted emotions swirling in his eyes, the weight of his past and present struggles evident in his posture.

“No need to apologize,” you reassure him, and another stretch of silence settles between you, the weight of his words lingering in the air. You don’t really know what else to say, so you don’t say anything, letting the quiet moment linger as you both sip your drinks, the only sound filling the room being the steady hum of the refrigerator.

The atmosphere hangs heavy with the weight of Carmen’s words, and you can sense how he is starting to shut down. So, instead of pushing for more conversation, you decide to take another approach.

“Hey, uhm, can I bum one?” you ask, nodding towards the pack of cigarettes you had watched him put in his pants pocket when you had entered your apartment. You have your own, and you try not to smoke at night, but you make an exception, you crave the comfort of a cigarette and Carmen looks like he does too, and being able to offer you a cigarette might make him feel like he has something to offer and ease the tension.

Carmen’s tired eyes flicker for a second, like he is being pulled out of deep thoughts before looking back at you again.

“Yeah, of course,” he replies, pulling the cigarettes from his pocket and handing you the entire pack. “I would have gone down on the street…” he begins to explain before trailing off.

You shake your head, cutting him off with a smile. “No need, If you’re fine with the fire escape we can go out there,” you offer in a gentle tone.

Carmen’s tired expression softens at your offer, and he nods in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The two of you make your way to the window, cracking it open to let in some fresh air before climbing out onto the fire escape. The metal stairs creaking slightly with each step as the cool night air greets you as you both settle against the railing, the distant sound of the city humming below you.

You pull out a cigarette and pop it between your lips before handing back the packet to Carmy. He takes one, lighting it with a flick of his lighter, the orange flame illuminating his tired face. He has a scar, you notice, on his right cheek, which you hadn’t noticed before. It looks like an old wound, faded and barely noticeable in the dim light of the night. You can’t help but wonder how he got it, but you are pulled out of your thoughts as he flickers on the lighter again, this time holding it out for you to light your cigarette.

You lean in, the flame dancing before your eyes, casting a warm glow on your face. As you inhale, pulling life into the cigarette, the smoke swirls around you in the night air, the ember glowing brightly in the darkness. “Thanks,” you mumble, as you exhale, letting the smoke escape through your nose as you lean back again.

For a while, the two of you sit in companionable silence, the only sounds being the never-quiet ambience of Chicago from the streets below. The night air is cool against your skin, but also somewhat refreshing, and the warmth of the cigarettes and the close proximity of Carmen keeps you feeling cozy and content.

The weight of the conversation from earlier still lingers, but as you gaze out at the city skyline, a sense of peace washes over you. You smoke the entire cigarette in silence before Carmen breaks the quiet. “Did you know Mikey?”

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before responding, the few memories you have of Michael flooding back to you.

“I don’t know if I knew him. We weren’t close, but we were neighbors for a few months. He was always friendly whenever we crossed paths in the hallway,” you say, watching Carmen closely for any sign of emotion. “I had my couch delivered about a week after I moved in, and despite having ordered it to be brought up to my apartment, the delivery guys just left it down on the street. Michael came down. I think he was on his way to work, and this guy came to pick him up and after asking me what happened, they just picked it up and started carrying it up for me. I tried to stop them, I was so scared, they’d throw their backs out,” you chuckle softly at the memory. “He didn’t have to do that, but he did anyway. I tried to thank them afterwards, venmo them or something, but they just waved it off.”

Carmen listens quietly, his eyes focused on some distant point in the night sky, a flicker of emotion passing through his expression before he clears his throat softly. “Sounds like him,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with memories as he lights another smoke, silently handing the pack over to you.

You take one, grateful for the distraction as you light it and take a long drag, the smoke swirling around you as you exhale. The quiet moment lingers between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. You can feel Carmen’s grief and exhaustion radiating off of him, the burden of loss and responsibility heavy on his shoulders.

The silence stretches, and you start to worry that your story about the couch wasn’t the right thing to say, that maybe you had overstepped by bringing up memories of his brother. You rack your brain for something else to say, anything to lighten the mood or make him feel better, but you come up empty. Instead, you simply sit in silence, the only sounds being the gentle buzz of the city below and the occasional drag of your cigarettes.

You can sense that Carmen is grappling with his own thoughts, his tired eyes gazing out at the twinkling lights below, lost in his own world. After a while, he breaks the silence, dumping his cigarette butt in the rusty tin can you have standing out here for the purpose.

“I should probably get out of your hair and let you get some rest,” Carmen says, his voice resigned but appreciative.

You nod in understanding, feeling a sense of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. A part of you wants to tell him to stay, but you also understand that he probably needs some time to himself. “Yeah, of course,” you reply, trying to keep your voice light and he gets up.

The polite, well mannered side of you tells you to get up and follow him to the door, but your intuition tells you to stay. It seems like he needs some space to process his thoughts and feelings, and you don’t want to intrude on that. So, instead, you simply smile at him and nod towards the window. “Thanks for the company, Carmy. And hey, if you ever burn down your kitchen again, don’t hesitate to knock on my door, okay?” you tease, you want to say something deeper, but you hold back, not wanting to push too much.

Carmen lets out a soft chuckle, his tired eyes lighting up with a hint of amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the coffee and the chat,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips as he gives you a small wave before disappearing back into the apartment. A few seconds later you hear the click of the front door closing after him, and you feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

You sit there for a while longer, the cigarette between your fingers slowly burning out. The weight of the night settles around you, the city’s hum a distant lullaby. You take one last drag of your cigarette, scrunching your nose at the light burn of your lips as you realize it had burned down to the filter.

With a sigh you dispose of the butt in the tin can, letting it join the others, before standing, leaning against the railing and gazing out at the city lights twinkling below. The night air is crisp against your skin, the silence of the night wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You stand there for a little while longer, lost in your thoughts as your tired eyes capture the beauty of the cityscape below you. The events of the evening swirl around in your mind, the unexpected encounter with Carmy. You don’t know if you overstepped any boundaries, if you said the right things, or if you offered enough support. But you hope you did the right thing.

With a final sigh, you step back inside, closing the window behind you and letting the night air dissipate. The apartment, that has felt empty since you moved in, feels even emptier now, and that is when you realize that Carmen had been the first person who you have invited into your home since you moved to Chicago. You can’t help but ponder over that as you head back to the kitchen to clean up and finish your tea. Maybe you should invite some of your coworkers over sometime, or actually start on trying to make some friends here.

You go over to the coffee maker to pour out the leftover coffee in the pot, but you are surprised when you see that it has already been done, and the mug Carmen had used is hanging from the drying rack, along with the other dishes that had been sitting in the sink waiting for you to finally rack up the energy to wash, now cleaned.

Maybe it’s just because you really, really hate washing dishes or maybe it’s the realization that you have been more lonely than you realized, but the sight makes a weird feeling settle in your chest, and it is too much for you to start processing right now, so you simply set down your mug on the counter and turn on your heel, leaving the kitchen and head to bed. Had you stayed in the dark kitchen for just a short while longer, you might have noticed the forgotten phone next to the sink.

You make your way to your bedroom, peeling off your hoodie and sweatpants before sinking into the comfort of your bed, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you, that you’re not ready to decipher. All you really want to do right now is to let all thoughts and feelings fade away into the peaceful void of sleep. You don’t have work tomorrow, thank god, so you allow yourself to drift off without setting an alarm, letting the warm duvet envelop you as the beating of your heart slowly lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

· · · · ·

Carmen is flipping through the pages of the folder, he’s barely registering the ideas and suggestions she had put together for the restaurant.. He doesn’t want to be an asshole, really doesn’t want to, but all this is a lot and he can’t really deal with a lot right now.

He can feel the beginning of the well-known pounding in his temples, another day, another headache. He wants to be able to fix this place, and he is happy that Sydney wants to help with that, but all he can focus on right now is to get through the day. There is three hours to opening, one of the fucking ballbreaker machines are broken, and he can’t find his fucking phone, he thinks he might have forgotten it at home, he was a bit of a zombie when he left this morning. Last night was something… he’ll probably need 3-5 business days to process, or even better repress it completely from his memory, despite it being difficult.

“On page 27, randomly, there’s actually some pretty good layouts of just that,” Sydney says, clearly trying to sound casual, but her voice betrays a hint of eagerness.

“Page 27?” he asks, feeling overwhelmed by everything in front of him.

“Yeah, it’s mostly graphics,” Syd replies.

He knows Sydney’s right, she is smart and capable, and he is not doubting that she has a bunch of good ideas. She is probably way more qualified to run a business than he is, or ever will be, but he can’t see how any of this is realistic. She is right, they are sleeping on to-go’s, but there is no way they’ll be able to manage that right now.

And, yeah, there is no doubt that they need to make some serious changes, but all Carmen can focus on right now is to keep his head above water. He has issues keeping vendors current, and even scraping enough together to actually pay the staff.

“Yo, Carm!” Marcus voice calls out, interrupting them. Carmen hands the folder back to Sydney before stepping out of the little office to see what’s now going on.

Following Marcus’s voice, Carmy swings the doors open to the front of the house where he finds the baker leaning against the front of the counter, and Richie standing behind it with a woman, probably around his mothers age, who Carmy’s never seen before.

“Yo, what’s going on?” Carmy asks, trying to push aside the headache that is threatening to take over while trying to understand what’s going on with Sydney hot on his heels.

“No. I can handle this myself, cousin. I got this,” Richie tells him, holding his hand up as Carmen steps into the room. “So… You’re not Ron…” Richie says, now addressing the woman.

“Ron’s gone. Gone, gone,” she answers, which isn’t helping Carmen understand the situation in the slightest.

“Ron’s dead?!” Marcus exclaims, leaning a little further over the counter.

“Who is Ron?” Carmy asks, trying to get a handle on the situation.

The woman turns towards Carmen. “My partner Ron Pager. He passed away. I’m running his routes now.”

“Everybody’s dying,” Richie says, annoyed, making a half turn in frustration.

“Nancy Chore, Chicago Board of Health,” the woman introduces herself, offering an explanation to Carmen. “I’m here to inspect the property.”

Of, course… An inspection, why the fuck not?! Just what this day needed…

“Okay, Nancy, hi. I’m Carmen Berzatto,” he extends his hand, introducing himself. “I’m the owner.”

“He’s the owner’s brother actually. He’s also dead,” Richie says, causing a raised eyebrow from the older woman.

“He doesn’t look dead.”

“No, no I’m not dead. My brother is dead.” Carmen clarifies, even though he feels a bit dead right now.

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” the woman says with a sympathetic nod.

“I’m sorry for your loss too,” Richie says to the health inspector, not missing a beat as he continues. “Can I see some kind of identification?”

“Yeah,” the woman replies, holding out her very legit looking badge per Richie’s request.

“Interesting,” the taller man says, his arms folded over his chest.

“Is it? What’s interesting about that?” Carmen says, he can’t fucking deal with Richie’s antics right now, he just wants this inspection to be over as soon as possible. Carmy’s been trying to make everyone step up their game in the two weeks he’s been here. He, himself stayed until late last night to deep clean. There shouldn’t be any problems, and if Richie will just behave, everything should be going smoothly… Hopefully.

“It’s an interesting logo on her badge,” Richie says defensively.

Carmy decides to ignore him, turning his attention to the inspector. “Nancy, if you need anything, just find us. Make yourself at home. Okay?” He turns around to go back to the kitchen, he has a lot to do and he doesn’t have time to deal with Richie’s shenanigans right now. “Where’s Tina and Ebra!” he calls out as he makes it back to the kitchen with Sydney following him back again, seemingly not done with telling about her ideas to improve the restaurant.

Carmen had hoped that the interruption would make her forget about it for a while, his head can’t hold any more right now, but he is also mildly curious to hear ideas, and he also doesn’t want to seem like an asshole, it is really nice of her to want to help, so he lets her follow him around as he makes it through the restaurant.

“I also noted on the prog that it’s not necessarily flour that is expensive, but shipping, so we could just have somebody go and pick it up.” Sydney says as they make it back into his office.

“Yeah, Marcus,” Carmen agrees. He can definitely see the logic in that. It’s a good, and actually feasible, idea.

“Okay, sure. Marcus. Great,” she says a little confused.

“No, it can only be Marcus,” Carmy explains.

Sydney makes a face of befuddlement. “Why can it only be Marcus?”

“Sweeps, Tina and Ebra don’t drive,” he clarifies. .

“Uh, well, what about Richie?” she asks questioningly.

“Suspended license.”

“I saw him drive in this morning,” she points out.

Carmy just shrugs, he is not sending a man with a suspended license out driving doing work hours, if Richie wants to risk it on his own time then that’s his business.

Sydney shakes her head lightly, getting back on track. “The point is, it’s one of hundreds of things we can be doing to save costs!”

“Sydney. Sydney. Sydney,” Carmy interrupts her. “Look, I’m sure this is all correct, but it’s a lot. The job you’re describing goes way outside what I can afford to pay a sous, which I can barely afford already. But I hear you. Okay? I have every intention of turning this into an efficient, respectable place of business run by adults…”

He can see that she is about to say something, but before she can get to it she gets interrupted by an outburst from the front of the house. “That’s a fucking ass of shit!” Richie’s voice bellows.

“Eventually…” Carmy sighs, stepping out of the office once again to see what’s happening. “Yo, yo, what’s going on?!” He yells as he pushes through the door to the front again, seeing that most of the staff are already there. A pressing feeling of uneasiness, starting to form in his chest as he steps around the counter to get to where Richie and Ms. Chore is standing, who he had almost forgotten was here.

“Look… It wasn’t dangerous, Ms. Chore…” Richie says defensively, immediately making alarm bells go off in Carmy’s head.

“What’s dangerous?!” Carmy demands to know.

“I discovered a large hole in the tile. Looks like a former gas line next to the stove tops. Not only was it not properly dry walled and caulked, but someone clogged the hole with napkins and proxied over it with some kind of plastic. Grease seeped into the napkins and the proxy became unproxied.” Ms. Chore explains, sounding less than pleased.

“So what does that mean?” Carmy can feel how fury is starting to slowly simmer in his stomach, threatening to soon be brought to a boil.

“A potential cross contaminate. Additionally, no hot water in the hand station.” The older woman explains.

The last part makes both Richie and Syd erupt in protest, their voices overlapping and echoing through the room as they try to explain that the hot water does work, the water just has to run for a little while, which Ms. Chore doesn’t seem to be satisfied with. “Health code states any sink near a prep area needs to deliver instantly hot water to prevent the spread of bacteria.”

Carmen can feel how his headache is now blooming into a full-blown migraine as the chaos unfolds around him. The sound of the voices mixing with the sound of the broken arcade game is starting to feel like an alarm going off in his head. It is like the piercing sound is stabbing through his temples and into his brain. He rubs his forehead, while grabbing the counter with his other hand, trying to ground himself as he tries to push back the throbbing pain. A health code vialation is literally the last fucking thing they need right now.

“I haven’t even delivered the big one yet.” The health inspector continues and Carmen feels how his stomach drops at her words.

“There’s a big one?” Fak says from his seat at the counter.

“And what is the big one?” Carmen asks, breathing through his nose. richie

The woman pulls out a packet of smokes, ‘King Size Sapphire’, Carmen’s eyes immediately looks over at Richie. “Someone left a pack of cigarettes on the stovetop near the burners. Not only very dangerous, but also a potential contaminant.”

“Motherfucker…” Carmy let’s out. The migraine is now pounding behind his eyes.

“You can say that again,” Ms. Chore

“Motherfucker!” Richie echoes, making Carmy’s blood fucking boil .

“Don’t actually say that again, you fucking idiot!” He yells at the taller man, feeling like he could strangle him in this moment.

“Unfortunately, these violations leave me no choice. I award you a C.” Miss Chore holds the cardstock with a giant orange C out to hand over to Carmy, but he doesn’t take it. He can feel the anger and frustration boiling inside of him, threatening to spill over. The orange letter on the paper mocking him.

A choir of protests fills the room as the staff tries to defend themselves, but Carmy can hardly hear them over the pounding in his head.

“You know what, I’m going to caulk that shit right now, okay?” Richie states, trying to plead with Ms. Chore.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter how fast you do it. I can’t come back to test for 30 days,” Ms Chore says, not missing a beat.

“It’ll take five minutes, okay?! It’ll take five minutes to caulk.” Richie tries to bargain. “I can caulk! Let me fucking CAULK!”

“There’s no caulk in the house, dude,” Fak chimes, making Richie yell at him to shut up and Ms. Chore hands over the review paper to Carmy before leaving.

Carmy thinks he might actually strangle Richie, his head now not only throbbing with pain but with red hot fury as well.

“You’re bitching me? You wanna run this place?!” Carmen seethes, his voice dripping with anger as he pushes Richie in the chest, his frustration finally boiling over.

“How do you know they’re not your cigarettes?!” Richie pushes back, making Carmy stumble back a step.

“Cause I’m not a fucking dipshit!” Carmy yells, seething with a mix of anger and frustration as he is about to push Richie again, but Sydney steps in between before he gets the chance, trying to keep the two men from each other as they yell at each other. Cursing and yelling fill the room as tensions escalate, the staff trying to intervene and the review paper falls to the floor in the commotion.

“Let’s not do this,” Sydney says, her voice breaking through to Carmy, making him regain his senses.

“All right. All right,” he says, throwing his hands in the air, trying to calm himself down before turning to Richie. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You are gonna go to the hardware store, you’re gonna get some joint compound. You’re gonna get some caulk and you’re gonna caulk that shit,” he says, his tone firm like he’s giving instructions to a child, despite him saying it with much more anger than he would ever use toward a kid.

“Okay, well, FYI…” Richie cuts in, as if he’s about to argue, making Carmy wanna punch him. “I’m not your fucking gofer.”

“FYI?! FYI!” Carmen can’t believe he is having this discussion with a grown man. “FYI, you cocked it up, you’re gonna caulk it out!”

“Okay, well, I would love to, but my license is expired, FYI!” Richie retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I saw you drive in this morning,” Sydney points out, making Carmen turn towards her.

“Sydney, you wanna help, you can take him.”

This makes Richie protest. “No. Time out. I’ll Uber. Thank you.”

“Surge rates, fucko!” Carmy reminds him, his voice dripping with annoyance.

“Fine,” Richie says in defeat before looking at Sydney. “But we’re taking my car.”

“I don’t care…” she says, shaking her head.

Carmen is just glad that they’re leaving. Glad Richie’s leaving because he is fucking angry at him, and glad that Sydney is leaving, because it is clear to everyone that she is far too good for this place, and it makes him feel bad and kind of embarrassed that she has to put up with all the bullshit that happens here.

He just needs a break from annoying pseudo-cousins and over-ambitious sous chefs for a little while. Although Sydney is not officially his sous yet, but he is going to hire her – he’d be an idiot not to, she is probably the best this shitty place will ever see, if she still wants to work here after today, that is…

Carmy picks up the fallen review paper from the floor with slightly trembling hands as the giant orange C is staring back at him. The image burns into his mind, a symbol of failure and inadequacy. He knows that this place is shit and that he needs to make changes, but this is a whole new low. His head feels like it is about to explode, the pounding in his temples now so unbearable he almost feels nauseous, the ballbreaker jingle of the broken machine, like nails on a chalkboard, echoing in his tired head.

“Fix that fucking sound. Please fix that fucking sound!” He spits at Fak, half commanding, half pleading.

“I will fix it. Fak always fixes it. Kids come in, break it, and what happens? I fix the balls. Fak fixes the balls.”

“FIX IT!” Carmy just yells. He wonders if it’s actually happened, after all these years in nightmarishly stressful kitchens, two weeks at The Beef is what’s finally driven him completely insane as he goes back through the doors to the kitchen.

Taking a breath and clenching his fists he tries to gather his thoughts. If he changes the plans so that Tina takes over Sydney’s stations while she is gone and he makes family, they shouldn’t get too behind while Sydney and Richie are gone.

“Yo, Tina! I need you to help me out, chef,” he calls out to Tina, trying to regain a sense of control amidst the chaos. “I need you to take over Sydney’s stations while she’s gone. We need to keep things running smoothly, I’ll make family and help out with prep,” Carmen instructs, his voice firm but tinged with the underlying stress and frustration he’s feeling.

“Got it, Jeff,” the shorter woman says, retying the strings of her ‘Mrs. Always Right’ apron.

“Thank you, chef,” Carmy says, really meaning it. He knows she’s having a hard time with all the new changes he has made around the kitchen, and with Sydney coming in and things changing up, but she has been here for a long time and there is a reason for that.

As they start working and tackling the tasks at hand, Carmen feels how his anger slowly disappears, something else inside him taking over.

He has no idea how to manage, let alone fix, a failing business, but he knows how to cook. He knows what he’s doing when he’s in the kitchen and he knows that he can rely on his skills and can get into that magical state where he can shut his brain of for a little while, and just fully concentrates on the task at hand – which in this point of his life probably is the closest he comes to relaxing.

· · · · ·

You are pulled out of your slumber by the ringing of your phone, the shrill sound cutting through the peaceful silence of your bedroom. Groggily, you reach out to the nightstand where your phone is resting, fumbling for it in the darkness before finally grabbing hold of it. But as you squint at the screen to see the caller ID, you see that there is none, it isn’t even your phone that is ringing.

Confusion clouds your mind as you slide out of bed, and it is now clear to you that the sound isn’t coming from your bedroom. You stumble out of the room, trying to locate the source of the ringing, but it stops before you get a chance to pinpoint it.

“What the…” you mumble before the ringing starts once again, realizing that the sound is coming from the kitchen. You feel a sense of unease wash over you as you make your way to the kitchen, the sound of the shrill ringing growing louder with each step. You enter the room and coming into view is the telephone on your kitchen counter. Confusion wells up inside you for a split second, your groggy mind still in a half fogged state of sleep, before the events of last night come back to you. Carmen must have forgotten his phone last night.

You look over at the oven, the digital clock, shocked by how late it is, you can’t remember the last time you woke up this late.

You step over to the sink, looking down at the phone, the caller ID lighting up on the screen saying ‘Sugar’. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should answer or not. It feels pretty invasive to pick up another person’s phone, someone you don’t really know, and you have no idea who this Sugar is, maybe a girlfriend? In that case you don’t want to intrude on their personal business, and you’re definitely not in the mood to be interrogated by some angry girlfriend.

But it could be important, or maybe it is Carmen calling his own phone to figure out where it’s at. You contemplate what to do, but before you can make a decision the phone stops again, the ringing coming to an abrupt halt.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, but after a few seconds the phone lights up again. With a fast beating heart you swipe across the screen before picking it up to your ear, bracing yourself for whatever may come.

“God damn it, Carm!” A female voice crackles through the speaker, frustration and annoyance evident in her tone. “Listen I know-”

“Hello,” you croak out, interrupting the woman, not wanting to eavesdrop on a private conversation. The voice on the other end goes silent for a moment, and you can almost hear the confusion through the phone.

“Uh, hi…” the voice says, the frustration in her tone melting away, being replaced with puzzlement. “Is Carmen there?”

You clear your throat, a little embarrassed by the mix-up. “Uh, no, he isn’t.” You cringe internally at the awkwardness of the situation. “He, uh, left his phone here last night.” And you only cringe even more. “I’m his neighbor, we had some coffee last night.” You quickly add, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so awkward, but you push through.

“Oh..” the woman responds, her voice softening. “I’m Natalie, I’m Carmen’s sister.”

Relief floods through you, feeling a way more at ease now that you know who you’re talking to as you tell her your own name.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Natalie says, genuine remorse in her voice. “I’ve been trying to talk to him for a few days now, and I was starting to worry, but I think he’s just ignoring me.”

You feel a sense of understanding wash over you, having seen the exhaustion and turmoil in Carmen’s eyes the night before, and knowing about what had happened with Michael you can’t help but feel for her. “It’s okay,” you reassure her. “But, yeah, I saw him last night, we had coffee and he must have left his phone here by accident.” You offer, hoping to ease some of Natalie’s worry

“Oh, thank you for letting me know,” she replies, relief evident in her tone. “He can be a bit of a scatterbrain sometimes. I know he’s been dealing with a lot lately, so I appreciate you looking out for him.”

You nod, feeling a sense of connection with Natalie, despite never having met her. “Of course, happy to help out.”

You contemplate whether to offer any more information about your interaction with Carmy, but you ultimately decide to keep it to yourself. It’s really none of your business, but you can’t shake off the urge to help somehow.

“Hey, uhm, if you give me the address I can swing by the restaurant and drop off his phone. I know I would be fucked without mine.” It’s not like you have any plans and you would probably not leave your apartment today if you don’t have a reason to. “I can tell Carmen to give you a call when he gets the chance,” you continue, hoping to be of some use and to ease Natalie’s worries.

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem. Just let me know where to go and I’ll drop it off,” you offer, genuine in your willingness to help out.

“That’s so sweet of you,” Natalie says, her voice softens even further, with a sense of genuine gratitude. She gives you the address to the restaurant, and you jot it down on a post-it note. The call ends with a warm goodbye from both of you.

Forty minutes later, after a quick shower and getting dressed and ready, you’re on your way to the train station, the music in your headphones filling your ears as you step out onto the platform. Luckily you don’t have to wait long before the gray train pulls up, you board and find a spot to stand, not feeling the need to sit. The gentle rock of the train lulling you into a sense of calm, as you let your brain disconnect and enter the weird, cathartic state of introspection that you often seem to get in on public transportation while you watch Chicago pass by in a blur of buildings and colors.

As the train comes to a stop at the station near the restaurant, you step out onto the platform and make your way towards the address Natalie had given you, it’s just a simple eight minute walk and you’re are there a lot quicker than you would have preferred, suddenly feeling a wave of nervousness wash over you, but you try to push through it, reminding yourself that you are just dropping off a phone and there’s no need to overthink things.

The restaurant is easy to spot, a worn sign hanging above the entrance with the name ‘The Original Beef of Chicagoland.’ You take a deep breath before pushing open the door and step inside.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡

@wittyno @eternallyvenus @eddioto

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spaceyrosie · 3 months

Text

for you, i would ruin myself

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader, hints of Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss Summary: Hotch is a busy man and he truly tried his best to be there for his children, until one day they got into a serious accident, leaving his daughter to be seriously injured. Warnings: heavy angst, sadness, reader got seriously hurt, descriptive injuries, blood, mentions of death, Haley's death, Hotch really tried his best, cliffhanger Author's note: I've been wanting to write for Aaron Hotchner for a while now and have finally gotten the time and inspiration to do so. I don't know if I should make a second part. Word count: 2.1k

“Dad! Hurry or Jack’s going to eat the cake all by himself!” you hollered from the living room.

Jack giggled “No I’m not,” his hand reaching out for the cookies they baked together that afternoon.

It was a peaceful day, one you have wished for a while now. Your dad’s job made it challenging for him to be home during the weekends, but today is one of the days he has taken the day off to celebrate your birthday.

“I’m coming!” Aaron replied walking to the living room to his children.

He had asked you a few weeks prior if you wanted a party for your birthday but you replied only wanting a small and quiet birthday with him and Jack. “I just want to celebrate the moment with the people I love the most, but I don’t get to do that these days.”

Aaron understands that reference, he has been travelling for work a lot in the past months. This is your first birthday since Haley passed, and it’s hard to celebrate without her.

Pulling Jack to his lap, they both sang Happy Birthday before you blew out the candles. Jack cheered, “We eat the cake and cookies now, Daddy? Please,” Giving his best pout, Aaron laughed.

“At least let y/n cut the cake first,” he chuckled while ruffling his son's hair.

As you are about to slice into the cake, they hear the dreaded ringtone from his work phone. Grimacing slightly, he picked up the call and lifted Jack from his lap before walking to the kitchen, “Hotchner. Yes, JJ?”

You tried not to let your emotions down, you knew this was part of his job. But, your fingers trembled as you sliced the cake before handing a plate to Jack. Your dad is still talking on the phone in the kitchen and judging by how his voice lowered, you know what’s about to come.

You tried to bite back the tears that were threatening to fall - will there be a time when your dad can make more time for his own family?

He walks back into the room, face pulled into a frown. He knelt before you, gaze heavy, “I’m so sorry, honey.” He started. “We got pulled into a case. I got to fly to Arizona.”

His apology lingered in the air. You nod, not really trusting your voice at the moment. You swallowed down your disappointment before forcing out a smile.

“It’s alright, dad.” Your reply was short. You couldn’t let him see the cracks behind your smile. He carried enough burdens, with the weight of his job and being a single parent of two, you couldn’t add your disappointment to his plate.

He frowns not convinced, “Really, me and Jack will just watch Star Wars after this.” Who you are trying to convince, him or yourself, you are not sure.

He looks into your eyes, “I’ll make it up to you, honey,” he whispers, his hand cupping your cheek. You savour this moment - when was the last time Dad held you?

“We’ll be fine, Dad,” You turned away, breaking the contact, and he took the cue to grab his go-bag. Your eyes are misting up but you quickly wipe the tears away not wanting Jack or your dad to see it.

It was your birthday, after all, you are supposed to feel happy, right? Right?

Standing by the door, he crouched down to hug you before pulling away to speak to you, “Happy birthday, honey. I’ll be back soon.”

You watched him walk out the door, knowing he would not be coming home anytime soon.

The next time Hotch dissapoints you was during the end of school year.

The ticking clock felt like a curse, each second mocking his fading hope. Hotch cursed when he saw the time - 3 hours until 7.00 pm.

Looking at the evidence board, he pinched his eyebrows together, the pins and photos taunting him with a case and the fact that he will be disappointing his daughter, again.

He felt a buzz from his pocket notifying a text from you.

I’m getting ready for the show. See you there!

He didn’t get to reply to the text as Morgan notified him the tactical team was ready to go to the unsub’s place. Pulling on his vest, it felt tight against his chest, burned with frustration and anxiety about the situation. He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as he led the team to the location provided.

Emily sat beside him noticing his tense posture, “You alright, Hotch?”

He doesn’t want his emotions to cloud his judgment while being in the field. Shifting his gaze into a stoic focus, he said, “Yeah, just ready to wrap the case after we catch the unsub.”

Emily was not convinced as her gaze cut through his stoic mask with her head tilted to the side and eyebrow arched. Hotch sighs, “Y/N’s recital… it’s tonight. Her solo. And I won’t be there.”

She winced, the weight of his unspoken pain echoing in the silence of the car.

“I promised to be there but I know even if we get this guy on time, by the time we arrive in Quantico, the show is finished.”

You squinted through the glare of the spotlights where a sea face blurred in your vision. Your eyes, desperate with searching, landed on Aunt Jessica’s sympathetic gaze, followed by the emptiness of the reserved seat beside her. She waved when you both locked eyes and gave you an apologetic look when your eyes lingered on the empty seat next to her.

The audience applauded after your fingers hit the last note, but all you can hear is the deafening silence inside your head. Flashes of should’ve, would’ve echoed in your head, as the seat next to Aunt Jess remained empty even until you took the final bow.

The case dragged on as Hotch and Prentiss interrogate the unsub into a confession. By the time the team puts their reports in, it's almost midnight.

Hotch tiptoed into the living room, the house quiet. Your bedroom door flicked open and you felt your dad’s presence.

“I'm sorry, honey.” His voice rasped, each word carving deeper into your disappointment.

“I-” You started, voice thick with unshed tears “I- I understand, Dad.” The lie tasted bitter in your mouth.

When he remained quiet, you continued, “It's part of the job, right.” You whispered, voice cracking at the end.

Hotch swallowed his guilt, he'll never get to see her perform on stage. “Honey, I-” He puts a hand on your shoulder to offer some sort of comfort. But, the both of you know nothing can take back his action. “I really tried to be there, y/n,” He said instead.

Still looking away from him, you took a shuddered breath before sighing, “I just…” you whispered, “I wished you were there.”

Silence consumed the room as they both weighed their words in.

Somehow, too many disappointments led him to situations he regrets.

Hotch frowned deepened when the traffic slows during the drive back to Quantico.

“Traffic’s unusual at this hour,” Prentiss muttered on his side.

Hotch grunted not in the mood. The team got called in for a case over the weekend, and they just finished wrapping it up. Despite it being local, he is still pissed to be working on his day off.

Sirens wailed behind their SUV, and he glanced in the rear mirror where an ambulance was passing through the traffic. The traffic moved slowly and they passed by a few police cars parked by the roadside trying to control the traffic where an accident had happened.

Amidst the flashing lights, he saw it - a black sedan crumpled beyond recognition. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw the plates before he pulled to a sudden stop by the roadside.

“Hotch? Why did we stop?”

She followed his gaze to the plate numbers before realisation dawned on her. Not caring to answer her, he jumped out of the SUV before running towards the scene. The smell of gasoline overwhelms his nostrils as his eyes wildly look around the crash site. An officer pulled in front of him, “Sir, please step back.”

“My family!” His roar cut through the atmosphere as he tried to shove past the officer. “Let me through! That’s my family!”

“Aaron!” A familiar voice hollered and he spotted Jessica’s wild curls from a distance. Jessica stumbled toward him, her face smudged with soot and blood stained her shirt. Dread fills his chest as he takes in the condition she is in.

“Jess!” His voice, usually calm and composed, cracked as he pulled her into a crushing embrace. “What’s happened? Where’s Jack?” He threw many questions. “Jess, tell me what happened! Oh my God, where’s y/n?” Aaron could feel the thumping in his chest.

Jess was crying, “I’m sorry, Aaron. I’m really sorry,” she choked out and he almost lost his mind when he heard those words from her.

Then a small figure emerge from the chaos, “Daddy!” Jack’s familiar voice brought some peace to his racing heart. Running towards the boy, who was being attended by a paramedic, he crouched down to console his son’s terrified sobs, “Hey, buddy. Oh Jack, ohh,” Jack was crying, a deep gash etched across his forehead.

His gaze, frantic and desperate, scoured the scene before he landed on a stretcher with you lying on top. He felt his heart drop when he saw your face, pale with a brutal gash mirroring the one on Jack’s head.

“y/n!” The name ripped from his throat as he nearly scrambled to run towards you.

“y/n! Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Aaron begged as he stood by your side.

“Sir, please step aside so we can help her,” One of the paramedics told him.

He begged, “P-please, she’s my daughter,” Tears were streaming down his face, “Y/n, I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here,” He sobbed trying to take hold of your hand. It felt cold to his touch, you have lost too much blood, causing your body temperature to drop.

You stirred before your eyes fluttered open, “D- dad?” your voice croaked.

Gripping your hand tightly, “I’m here, honey. Dad’s here,” Aaron assured.

Gaze unfocused as your eyes stared ahead, “D- dad, you’re h-here?” You try to reach out. Aaron tried to smooth out the hair out of your face, his face coming into your view.

“I’m here, y/n.” He assured again.

“Dad… it hurts...” You cried, and Hotch felt like his heart had been stabbed. Your whole body was on fire and your breathing hurt. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the blood smearing your face.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. But you’re going to be okay. They are going to help you, okay.” His reassurances trembled, knowing he should not make any promises given the condition you are in.

Before you could reply, your eyes fluttered shut before your grip slackened in his. He panicked, calling out your name, “Wake up y/n,” His calloused hand cupped your cheeks, a silent plea etched in his words.

“Don’t do this, honey. Open your eyes, y/n.” His voice, usually strong and steady, cracked as he choked back a sob.

“Step aside, sir.” One of the paramedics immediately rushed.

Right in front of him, he saw another paramedic insert a breathing tube into his daughter’s mouth to help you breathe. Aaron saw his world turned dark when the monitor connecting to your chest beeped rapidly, signalling the heart's struggle to beat rhythmically.

Hotch felt like he failed you.

He failed to protect you.

He failed to be the father you need.

“We are going to be taking your daughter to Georgetown University Hospital, sir,” The paramedic informed as the stretcher was wheeled into the ambulance. “She’s not stable, you can follow us in your vehicle,” He said sympathetically.

His fingers dug into the cold metal of the stretcher, refusing to let go. "I have to be with her," his voice rough with desperation. "Please, just let me hold her hand."

The paramedic's gaze softened, but his hands stayed firm. "She's losing too much blood, sir. Every minute counts. You'll be with her soon, I promise."

Aaron nodded and released his grip, a sob escaping his throat. Images flickered behind his eyes: empty birthday chairs, unanswered phone calls, a whispered promise to come home. How many times had he failed to be there? How many moments had slipped through his fingers, swallowed by the demands of work?

Haley’s pained voice, etched in his memory, morphed into y/n’s bloodied face.

How many times have you needed him but he wasn’t there?

How many times did he leave his family for work?

His knees buckled as he watched the ambulance drive into the night, flashing sirens blurring into the smoked air. His hands trembled on his side unable to control the weight of guilt inside him.

Emily’s voice cut through the fog, “Hotch,” No amount of words can offer him any comfort in that moment. She tried, nevertheless, “She’s strong, Aaron.”

He hopes so.

He really hopes that you’ll be okay.

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds #criminal minds angst #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner #bau x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner imagine #dad!hotch #emily prentiss x aaron hotchner

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mrchiipchrome · 5 months

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Butterscotch

W.C. - 1.8 k

All your life your only goal has been to be as kind as you possibly could be. It didn’t matter if your day had been good or bad, as long as you could make someone else’s day that much better then you were fine.

It carried on all throughout your life, going from the childhood innocence to the adult naivety. You’d do anything to cheer up a teammate or the occasional rival, seeing people sad was something you were uncomfortable with. That wasn’t difficult to see.

Growing up under the care of your grandparents taught you things that were unique, things that other children your age wouldn’t learn until years from that point. Experiences only growing up surrounded by older people could bring.

It taught you many miscellaneous things, but most importantly of all, it taught you that there was nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a piece of candy.

Both of your grandparents always had a small piece of candy with them, often a quick caramel or a butterscotch that would melt on your tongue. Anytime you fell and scraped your knees a candy wrapped in crinkly plastic would be handed to you and then everything would seem fine again.

It was something you picked up on, always having treats wrapped in crinkling paper in your shirt pocket or wherever else you could store it. You even had a special compartment sewn into all your football shorts pockets where you could fit a single sweet that wouldn’t fall out throughout all the ruckus of a match. One you would slip into your mouth as soon as the game was over no matter the result of the game.

You would always go fetch another sweet from your coat that you’d give to either the opponent or one of your teammates, depending on who won.

But ultimately whenever anyone needed a pick-me-up they knew where to find you, a sweet in your pocket just for them.

So when you finally broke through into the first team, you were quickly known throughout the Woso community as one of the nicest players. One that would slip children sweets when their parents weren’t watching.

That was something your girlfriend especially liked watching, the sneaky look on your face and the huge smile on the kid’s never failing to make her day.

You’d known of each other for a while before you became friends and later lovers, having roughly the same friend groups. You just never took notice of each other until she signed for Manchester United, the club having been your employers back then.

She was freshly out of college in America and decided to sign for your then club, you hearing through the grapevines that she needed a place to stay which led you to offer your spare room. It got lonely without anyone else there.

Out of seeming desperation, she accepted your offer and moved in the following week. It was awkward in the beginning, neither of you used to living with the other, leading to some embarrassing moments and some good life lessons. Never ever walk into your roommate’s room without knocking being just one of them.

Slowly you warmed up to the other, learning the other’s habits and quirks, a smoothly running household soon forming. As soon as a routine was created, a budding friendship started forming between the two of you, becoming thick as thieves in practically no-time (much to the chagrin of a certain United player).

It wasn’t until after you’d won the euros that the obvious feelings between the two of you were addressed, the alcohol fueled kiss shared at midnight much more telling than any words. Waking up hungover and in the same bed made for some hilarious excuses and even funnier stories from your teammates. You apparently hadn’t been able to keep your hands off of each other, insisting on sleeping in the same bed all cuddled up.

Since that magical night you had been dating, which was nothing short of amazing. She was all you could ask for and more, she was the breath in your lungs, your strength and your weakness.

And she always accepted a sweet treat from you.

It was no secret that Alessia Russo liked a butterscotch candy, something only highlighted by you and your pocket sweets.

Another non-secret was her love for your interactions with children. She couldn’t help the way her heart melted and how her thoughts ran wild, imagining your interactions with your future kids. She hadn’t even brought the thought of children up to you, it was her very obvious secret.

Alessia couldn’t avoid the teasing from your teammates who saw the obvious heart eyes coming out in full force as soon as you were near a kid, ruffling their hair or smiling at them kindly. You were teased just as much if not more for the constant heart eyes you exhibited towards your girlfriend.

After a win for Arsenal, the team takes a quick victory lap around the stadium, waving and smiling at your fans. It’s peaceful despite the shouts and yells of the frantic people, well peaceful until a piercing cry cuts through the air.

Your first instinct is to check on your girlfriend, to make sure that she’s okay and not hurt. Looking behind you, the sight of her baby blues meet you almost instantaneously. She looks fine on the outside, not like she’d screamed her lungs up only moments before.

Another heart shattering cry follows after the first one, you feeling like a belt is tightening around the circumference of your heart. Swiveling your head towards the crowd, you soon spot the little boy clutching onto his mother’s shirt tightly, tears streaming down his poor face.

Alessia’s attention is caught when she sees you walking towards the crowd, the shrill screams lowering little by little. She can only see the numbered shirt on your back, legs moving towards the little boy.

The boy looks at you in amazement when you’re close enough for him to see you, silent tears still falling down his chubby cheeks.

“Hi buddy!” You said in a soft voice, trying to calm him down. His mother looks at you, awestruck as her son but ultimately snaps out of it just enough to encourage her son to greet you back. “Why are you crying…” The woman fills in the blank in your sentence with his name.

“Timmy”

“Why are you crying Timmy?” Leaning down to his level, you see how his tears slow, no longer falling down his cheeks rapidly. Timmy shakes his head hastily, as if to say that he didn’t want to say. “Okay, you don’t have to tell me. You want to know what I do everytime im sad?” You ask the sweet boy, who can’t be older than 5.

The headshakes soon turn into frantic nods, the boy intrigued by what you did. Your hand moves back behind his head, fingers magically pulling a butterscotch candy out from behind his ear. The light gasp from the boy makes you smile, looking at his mother who gives you a nod. His small hands wrap around the crinkly plastic, the woman behind him nudging him, the boy quickly saying thank you.

“One of these and all my sadness goes away, why don’t you try?” The smile forming on your girlfriend’s face doesn’t go unnoticed by your teammates, a certain Irish woman sliding up beside her.

“Y/n’s very good with kids, ey?” She says, smirk overtaking her face.

“Yeah she is.” Alessia responds dreamily, eyes on your back.

“So, are you thinking about having some of your own?” Katie asks loudly, slinging her arm around Alessia’s shoulder and pulling her closer.

The brit chokes on thin air, coughing noisily to clear her airways. It attracts some attention from some straggling teammates but nothing out of the usual.

“Uhm, I don’t know. Not really.” She manages to get out, eyes tearing up slightly as coughs continue to escape.

“Don’t lie to me Less, we can all see it.” Katie explains softly, as if to let the girl down slowly.

“I don’t know if she wants any kids, that's the thing.” Alessia shrugs her shoulders in the Irish woman’s grip, looking down at the ground.

“Listen, just talk to her, okay?” She tells her protegee, glancing up to see you now standing in front of them shirtless and with a confused expression on your face.

“Talk to who about what?” Alessia’s eyes flit over your stomach, stopping at the sight of your abdominal muscles. The older girl nudges the number 23, leaving soon after. “So? Talk to who about what?”

“Baby, I’ll tell you later, okay?” She shoves her hands in her pockets, leaning into you when you wrap your arms around her.

After showering and changing into your comfy clothes, both you and Alessia are on your merry ways out of the stadium, going back to her car together. Settling down in the passenger seat, you can hear her sigh loudly and all of a sudden you’re filled with fear. Is she about to break up with you?

“Do you want kids?” She asks nervously, eyes shifting all around the car. You let out a surprised laugh, sighing and placing your hand over your chest.

“Oh thank you” You laugh out, eyes on the ceiling of the car.

“What are you talking about?” She asks confused, eyebrows knitting together adorably like they always did when she was confused.

“I thought you were going to break up with me.” She slaps your arm lightly, shocked that you’d even think of the possibility.

“But do you want kids?” Alessia repeats her earlier question, looking at you intently.

“Hmm, yeah I want two or three tots running around and wreaking havoc” You shoot her a smile, the softness in your eyes shining through.

“That’s good, because I want kids too”

“With me?” Now it’s your turn to be confused.

“Who else dummy?”

“Why would you want to have kids with me?!”

“Because I love you, and you’d be an excellent mother” Alessia tells you tenderly.

“You’d be an even better mother my love” She blushes at your compliment, hiding her face in her shoulder.

When you’ve arrived home and put your pajamas on, it’s finally time to lay down on the sofa and cuddle for all eternity, your head settling down on her chest with your body slotted between her legs.

“Can one of our kids be named Morrison?” Your voice comes out muffled, the warmth of your breath seeping through her pajama shirt.

“No.”

Having your own kids wasn't going to happen for ages, so for now you had to settle for raising a stuffed animal.

#woso x reader #alessia russo #woso #alessia russo x reader #unc soccer #arsenal wfc #lionesses

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straylightdream · 1 year

Text

I don't give a fuck about your friends - 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: lee minho x f.reader

friends to lovers

↳ Oh baby, take a look around I'm the only one that hasn't walked out, Im right here.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, smut warning below the cut.

𝐚𝐧: part of a series called ohmami of short one shots inspired by Chase Atlantic songs. This one was inspired by Right Here. If you would like to be tagged in all stories for this series or a specific boys please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, soft dom minho, rougher passionate sex, creampie, size kink, dirty talk, minho calls the reader the name Pretty.

It’s been a rough night to say the least. A night out with your friends went wrong. A bunch of drunk girls in the club is never a good mix, followed by watching a so-called friend makeout with your ex who you thought at one point you were gonna marry him. The sight of them kissing was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on you. Tears well in your eyes as you rush off to the hallway near the bathrooms. You fight back crying as you call the only person you want to see at that moment.

Walking back to the table where a few friends were, you let them know you were heading out. The buzz you had has faded away as a feeling of sadness takes over. Walking outside the cold air catches you by surprise. Taking a deep breath you wrap your arms around your body trying to find some warmth. You stand outside alone for all of five minutes when you see the only person you want to see walking towards. He’s dressed in gray sweats with a hoodie underneath and coat over the top.

You practically jog towards him, wrapping your arms around him, throwing yourself into his chest. There is a moment of silence as you cling to him. His hand gently rubs your back making you feel warmer.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he presses his lips to the top of your head.

Pulling away he takes off his coat and holds it out for you. You know he’ll probably be cold walking back to his car but there is no use in fighting him. Pulling his coat on you immediately notice his eyes are focused on you. He steps closer to you resting his hand on your cheek. Ever so slowly be wipes away the stray tear that had slid down your cheek.

“You’re too pretty to be sad,” his voice was calm and gentle.

Arriving at his car he helps you in the passenger side before shutting the door. The drive back to his apartment is quiet. You can feel him looking over at you every so often as you wipe away the stray tears that keep falling. He hasn’t really asked you what’s wrong but you know he will.

You arrive at his apartment he shares with Jisung and you notice right away there is no sign of his roommate. Without thinking the moment he shuts the door you lean forward to kiss him just like you always do. You’re caught off guard when he pulls away the moment your lips touch. The small feeling of rejection stings but you know it’s because he knows you’re upset.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” He seems frustrated. You can’t blame him though. Recently anytime something has gone wrong in your life you always call him. He never tells you he can’t come to your rescue. He always does and every time no matter if it’s day or night it always ends the same way with you naked and spread out underneath him. He normally doesn’t say anything when you throw yourself at him. Peeling away your clothes as you desperately cling to him trying to make yourself feel better.

“Mae was all over Hyunwoo at the club. I looked out on the dance floor and saw my friend making out with the guy that broke my heart.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just takes a deep breath and steps closer to you. Minho hated Hyunwoo and after you got your heart broken he hated your ex even more.

“She’s not your friend if she would do something that she knows would hurt you.” His hand rests on your side standing close to you.

“I’m probably just being sensitive,” you sigh, wiping away your tears. “I have that trip with them next weekend. I know she wouldn’t intentionally do something to hurt me.” You're an absolute fool and you know it. Mae and a bunch of the other girls are selfish and you know deep down inside you need to cut them off. Minho has told you over and over again he doesn’t like most of your friends in that group and you know why. He doesn’t say anything for a moment instead he moves away from your hand and gently rests his hand on your cheek. His thumb swipes away the tears that are staining your cheek.

“Come stay with me next weekend. I don’t think you should go on that trip.” From the moment Minho heard that you were supposed to have a girls weekend he was instantly against it. He thought most of the girls that you had started hanging out with since college were fake. After seeing one of them make out with the man that broke your heart led you to believe he might be right.

“They’ll be upset if I cancel on them,” you sigh.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“‘Min they’re my friends. It does matter.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your friends. I’m the one who is always right here. They don’t treat you right. If they were true friends they would have seen you were upset tonight and wouldn’t have let you leave crying.”

“Min,” his words catch you off guard.

“I’m being honest. I don’t give a fuck about your so called friends. I just want you to be happy and I think being with me instead of them would make you happy.”

Even though your head is telling you that you should go on this trip, you want to listen to your heart and stay with Minho.

“What happens if I stay here?”

“We’ll figure out whatever we are.” He pushes his figures through your hair tilting your head back. His face softens as your eyes lock.

“We’re not just friends?” You’re not dumb you know you’re more than friends. If you were just friends you wouldn’t throw yourself at him any chance you get. If he was just your friend you wouldn’t daydream about kissing him.

He pulls back from you shaking his head. “I don’t fuck my friends.” He starts walking away from you heading off to his room. You’re caught off guard by his bold statement but it lets you know he feels the same way you do. Without thinking anymore you follow him. Walking into his room you notice the light on in the bathroom connected to his room. You wait sitting on his bed for him to walk back in. Walking back into his bedroom he pulls off his shirt tossing it in the hamper by his closet. He strips down to his boxers. You silently sit there watching him. You should have known at some point or another things between you and Minho would come to a head. You couldn’t go on sleeping together without talking about how you really get.

“Are you going to skip that trip?” He finally breaks the silence.

“I want to know what it’s like to be more than friends with you.” This is your way of telling him you aren’t going on that trip.

“Stand up for me,” he says walking towards you. You listen to him standing at the foot of the bed. “Those girls aren’t good for you. They don’t care about your feelings and I don’t like that.”

“I know they don’t.” You get sad again thinking about how your night went.

“Strip down to your underwear please.” He doesn’t normally boss you around when you sleep together. He’s always had dominant energy about him, but when you have sex he always lets you do what you want. Every time you’ve slept together it’s been when you’re upset or want a form of stress release. You realize you’ve been selfish and never really asked Minho what he likes or what he wants.

Standing there in just your underwear you reach out resting your hand on his cheek, “what do you want from me?” You ask.

“Anything you’re willing to give me. I want every part of you.”

“Minho I mean what do you want if you don’t want to be just friends?”

His hand rests on your bare side pulling you close to him. You take a deep breath taking in his closeness. “Pretty, I want to be your everything. I want to make you happy and show you what it’s like to be loved.” Leaning in closer he rested his forehead against yours.

“I want you to be my everything.” You didn’t want to just be friends. You wanted so much more with him.

His lips crash against yours and he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. His hands grip your soft sides as your lips move together.

Pulling away you both removed the rest of your clothes. Laying on his bed completely bare he sits between your spread thighs as he rubs his hardened length through your folds.

“Min put it in,” you practically whine wanting him inside you.

A smirk tugs at his lips as slowly pushes his length into you earning a moan. He moves at a slow pace letting you adjust to his girth. The groan that passes his lips as he bottoms out is intoxicating. Your hands reach for his wanting to hold on to him. He thrust into you at a firm but steady place. The blissed out look on his face makes you weak.

“Pretty, you’re so tight. Is my cock too big for you?” He loves to make you feel small. You weren’t a tiny girl by any means but the way he talks about his size makes your head spin.

With one particularly hard thrust makes you practically scream his name. A soft laugh passes his lips as he thrust hard again causing your breast to bounce.

“Min-“ you moan.

“Do you like it when I’m rough?” You just silently nod your head, unable to fully respond. He grabs one of your legs, putting it over his shoulder before he continues his pace. His finger toys with your clit knowing just the right way to touch you to make you scream his name again.

He keeps his steady pace leaving you a panting mess. One of your hands grip the cotton sheets next to you while the other grasp your breast. Your thumb drags across your sensitive nipple adding to the overwhelming sensation taking over your body.

“Fuck you look good touching yourself while you’re taking my cock,” he groans. His dirty words come close to pushing you over the edge.

“I’m so clo- clo close.” He’s left you a stuttering mess.

“Does pretty want to come?”

“Fuck,” you whine nodding your head.

“Do it then,” he says, thrusting harder.

Pulling your leg off his shoulder he quickly changes his position so he is hovering right over you. He keeps his pace as he leaves a trail of open mouth kisses from your chest up to your lips. The moment your lips together you moan into his mouth as you fall apart. Your walls flutter around him as a white hot wave crashes over you. He thrust into you over and over again as you ride out your high.

His thrust gets sloppier as he chases his own release. He comes painting your walls white moaning your name. He stays plastered on top of you riding out his release. Ever so slowly he pulls himself away from you. He sits back on his hunches watching for a moment as his release drips out of you. Reaching over to his nightstand where he keeps a box of tissues he always wipes his release before laying on the bed next to you. You’re absolutely exhausted and feel like you’re on the verge of falling asleep.

“Pretty?” He says pulling your sleepy body close to his.

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said. I’ve always been right here, and I don’t want to be just friends.”

You smile nuzzling close to him, “Minho we’re definitely more than friends, and I’m glad you’ve always been right here.”

His lips gently press to the top of your head before you fall asleep in his arms.

Regarding taglist:

If you aren’t interacting with my writing outside of liking the new post I’m gonna have to remove your name from the taglist. You will also be removed if I try to tag you and your blog is listed as "invisible". If you've changed your URL and didn't let me know I will also be removing your name. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but my interactions outside or likes feels like it’s nonexistent right now. All of my taglist are still open though. If you request to be added to one via this form, I kindly ask for interactions in the form and feedback and reblogs. To be quite honest, those really encourage my writing.

#stray kids #lee know #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee Minho #lee know angst #stray kids fan fiction #stray kids x you #stray kids reader insert #lee know reader insert #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut

1K notes · View notes

sumiire-creates · 3 months

Text

▍𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙎𝙋𝙊𝙏𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙄𝙎𝙎 𝙔𝙊𝙐 *ೃ༄

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𝘎𝘌𝘕𝘙𝘌: fluff.

𝘍𝘛; amber, kaeya, lisa, jean, diluc, venti, albedo, rosaria, eula, mika.

𝘊𝘞:

‣ gn!reader [mentions of female anatomy] | slightly suggestive(?) [on kaeya, venti, and albedo] | a ton of kisses | a ton of fluff/a bit of comfort.

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▏𝘈𝘔𝘉𝘌𝘙;

- amber loves to kiss your face.

- amber is so sweet about it too

- like if she has the chance, she’s take your face in her hands and just smother you with kisses until you’re both all giggles

- she enjoys pecking your cheek or nose or forehead

- she ADORES goodnight forehead kisses. like, she gives you one EVERY. NIGHT.

- she’s so gentle with her lil smooches

- she’d kiss you any chance she got

- when you’re cuddling in bed? smooch

- pass by each other when you’re doing your own thing? quick kiss on the cheek

- training? hell yes.

- if you were a fellow knight, she’d spar with you and like get so close just to give you a kiss and hit you so hard you fall to the ground

- but like it's okay

- because if you tell her it isn't, she gets really disappointed and sad and pouts about it for the rest of the day

- you better make it up to her

- like later when y’all are going to sleep, trap her in a hug and return the favor! she’ll cheer right up

▏𝘒𝘈𝘌𝘠𝘈;

- kaeya loves to kiss your lips.

- flirt.

- tease.

- he’s such an ass with it

- like he knows what he’s doing and he loves to just make you feel those annoying little butterflies that make you happy

- but then like

- he’ll also get super close, and you just wanna kiss him really badly

- and then he pulls away.

- like SIR??? >:(

- i'm not done come back here

- his kisses are soft and loving

- with gentle lips on yours, he’ll kiss you anytime he finds the moment to be perfect

- he’s the definition of romantic

- like your first kiss was probably on starsnatch cliff at sunset and looked so damn perfect

- gentle breeze and everything

- this mf couldn’t have timed it better

- he likes romantic kisses

- he also likes to just peck your lips

- but that's only if he can’t snatch you away and make out with you

- straying a little off topic but

- kaeya fucking LOVES cuddling you at night and making you face him so he can just smooch you right there whenever he wants

▏𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘈;

- lisa loves to kiss your hands.

- such a gentlewomen <3

- she’s, like, so fucking sweet

- she’ll take your hands in hers and kiss your knuckles and it's just so soft and UGH

- when handing you books, she’ll snatch your hand and give it a quick kiss before waving you goodbye

- literally just

- i can’t stop saying this but,

- she’s SO SWEET.

- lisa would hold your hand tightly as you two walk down the street, occasionally bringing it up to her mouth as she’d kiss your knuckles and give her a smile

- she’ll never pass up a chance to kiss your pretty hands

- she’ll never pass up a chance to kiss you in general, honestly

▏𝘑𝘌𝘈𝘕;

- jean loves to kiss your forehead.

- goodnight kisses on the forehead as she gets in bed beside you >>>

- she’s probably taller than you so its like the most easy to access place for her tbh

- jean is so sweettttt

- so gentle and loving with her partner

- she’d kiss you and give you a small reassuring affirmation afterwards

- “you’re doing great, love, keep it up.”

- “i love you so much, you know that, right?”

- “i’ll never leave your side, even in death.”

- “let me know if you need anything, okay?”

- it’s just

- so goddamn cute

- she’d only do it when she felt like its needed though

- taking her face in her hands as she pulls you in so she can kiss your forehead when you’re stressing out before embracing you and hugging you while gently rubbing you back-

- she even gives you the option to shove her away if you want, and she won’t get offended or upset or anything

- she’s just so comforting with her kisses <3

▏𝘋𝘐𝘓𝘜𝘊;

- diluc loves to kiss your shoulder.

- first off, this man isn’t too big of a fan of PDA…

- so kissing in public is a no no unless nobody is looking

- then he often slips you a quick peck

- but he much prefers to kiss when he knows you’re alone

- his favorites are when he’s cuddling you in bed and just kinda kisses and sucks on your shoulder bc its soft and feels nice to him

- he’ll trail up your neck, to your lips, and then back down

- he’s super gentle about it AGAIN

- also i imagine that he’s just super duper warm

- he already wears that heavy ass coat

- but the pyro vision automatically makes him warmer to the touch

- he’s fine, i promise, just really warm

- so like imagine being held in his warm, strong arms while he gently gives you shoulder kisses

- its so cuteee

- diluc also likes it when he’s doing paperwork at his desk and you come to pester him. he likes it when you start whining and get in his lap to distract him

- because then he’ll just trap you in his arms

- “is this what you wanted?”

- and then, if nobody else is inside or if the maids have a day off, he’ll probably just kinda slide your shirt off a bit and smother your shoulders and neck in kisses

▏𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐;

- venti loves to kiss your neck.

- VENTI.

- its so bad

- especially when he gets tipsy

- he’ll literally just kinda blend bodies with you and his lips never leave your neck

- also he knows where your soft spot/sweet spot is so just be warned, he’s gonna target it

- he’ll hold you from behind and find your favorite spot, sucking and kissing it before slowly trailing off… and then he comes right back to it, 2x the effort.

- he gets really handsy when kissing

- like he’ll probably grab at anything

- so yk

- be warned

- you can also bribe him to give you more kisses

- just promise him a drink and he’ll endlessly kiss you

- but like uphold your promise

- because you’re not getting anymore kisses until he gets that damn wine

- he’ll kiss you in any situation

- he prefers to kiss your neck from behind, but he can do it from the front too

- he also likes the back because he can just bury his face in your hair and it smells good so

- why wouldnt he want to ?

▏𝘈𝘓𝘉𝘌𝘋𝘖;

- albedo loves to kiss your chest.

- “its for science”

- no its not.

- he just likes to kiss your chest.

- he’ll only go as far as your clothes allow

- tbh it's probably because they’re warm

- he isn’t particularly gentle or anything, actually

- he’s more rough with them tbh

- albedo likes to run his tongue along your skin before suckling on it

- then he’ll actually kiss it

- he’s a weirdo

- tbh he probably doesn’t kiss you that often

- it's more like

- spread out

- unless you ask specifically for him to kiss you more

- which he may or may not do

- he may just give you a look because he’s busy

- or he’ll indulge you

- who knows

- tbh i can’t tell with this man

▏𝘙𝘖𝘚𝘈𝘙𝘐𝘈;

- rosaria loves to kiss your cheek.

- she definitely doesn’t kiss often

- or like

- at all

- but when she does, she kisses you like a ghost

- as in you almost can't feel it

- she much prefers to kiss your cheek, as its a soft and simple gesture that she can do at any time

- but again, she doesn’t kiss often

- so when you do find this blessing upon you, don’t hope for too much

- she won’t give you the proper kiss to the lips that you may want, because most of the time she’s busy and doesn’t have the time or feel very deserving of sharing such a nice moment with you

- so a peck on the cheek will do and then she’s off again

- tbh she hates the church and protecting mondstadt

- because she doesn’t have the time to kiss you like the wants

- but dw

- she’ll make it up to you

▏𝘌𝘜𝘓𝘈;

- eula loves to kiss your knuckles.

- she was raised by aristocrats

- so like

- kissing is a thing

- she won’t do too often

- until you’re married

- because why waste her kisses on someone who’ll break up with her?

- no

- she’ll take her vengeance if you leave her

- so like

- don’t.

- anyways

- eula likes getting down on one knee and kissing your knuckles

- because it's romantic

- and she’s a knight

- isn’t that what the night typically does for his princess?

- as far as she knows, yes, yes it is

- so she’s gonna do it for you

- as a greeting

- and a farewell

- and just because she can

- of course in private she won’t make such a big deal about it

- she’ll just kinda snatch your hand (regardless of what you’re doing), and press her lips to your knuckles

- she really really enjoys doing it because it reminds her of those little stories about a princess and a knight

- you’re her prince/princess and she’s your loyal knight <3

▏𝘔𝘐𝘒𝘈;

- mika loves to kiss your nose.

- shy.

- again, does not kiss you often

- but it's more often than like rosaria or albedo or eula.

- he’s just really really really nervous to kiss you

- like what if he messes up???

- he doesn’t wanna mess up!!

- so instead of kissing your lips

- he kisses your nose

- why?

- because he thinks your nose is cute

- but also because it helps him a little

- concentration wise

- this way he cant mess it up!

- right?

- right..?

- he’s telling himself that

- he just likes to kiss your nose

- mika thinks it's soft and cute but so is your whole face!!

- he’d pepper your face in kisses if he could

- but most attention kissing-wise is given to your nose

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thank you for reading !

have a great day/night !

Requests: OPEN

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

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sturniologals · 3 months

Text

Car ride-M.S

Reader x Matt

-; warnings Smut (obvi), Praise kink, Dom!Matt, Cursing.

1.8k Words

My childhood best friend matt is standing outside of his house waiting on his date to pick him up and I can’t help but to wish that he would just walk across the street and confess his love for me and it would be us going out.

A black range rover pulls to the sidewalk, the street lamp on his sidewalk corner is the only light illuminating his features-and my god does he look good. I can feel my arousal growing as i shift on my bay window seat to try and get some friction but it does nothing.

Suddenly, the car is pulling away and matt is standing there looking annoyed, not sad- but bothered. I watch him start to walk up to his door but he stops at his porch steps and rubs his hands over his face in a stressful motion.

His cargo pants are hanging low on his waist and when his hands go up, his shirt strides up a bit revealing the bottom of his stomach. His V- line is perfectly carved and his skin looks oh so soft.

After a second of him seemingly stressing over something- he starts to walk over to my house.

This is an almost daily occurrence for us since the 3rd grade when i moved into this house and i started at the same elementary school as him but still- I can’t help but to feel the pit in my stomach anytime he comes over. My parents are gone out on their weekly date night so i’m home alone. The thoughts of what he could do to me race through my mind but they quickly shut off when i hear the doorbell and I quickly jog down the stairs, stopping in the hallway to check in the mirror, my freshly applied cherry lipgloss shining on my plump lips, my hair tied back in a low ponytail.

I take a moment to think about how i’m wearing just sweats and a t shirt but remember- it’s just matt. No need to stress, he’s seen me worse than this before.

I open up the door and matt is standing at my doorstep, anxiously cracking his knuckles. When i open the door wide enough for him to come in- he quickly does so. He doesn’t say anything and just starts to jog up my stairs, headed straight on the path to my bedroom that he’s came to know so well over the last 8 years.

“Matthew!” I shout trying to catch up with him.

I make it to my room, where he’s already sitting on my bed, his back against the headboard. He’s already discarded his sneakers onto the floor and is now draping one of my fuzzy blankets over his legs.

“Cmere y/n” he says as he throws an arm up for me to cradle into. this isnt anything weird for us. we’ve always been this close but in the last year, matts started to look different. better. His hair grew out and he started to dress better. He hit puberty which came with him growing to a 5 foot, 11 inches. compared to my 5 foot, 2 inches.

I don’t question him and i just crawl into my bed next to him and rest my head on his chest as his arm falls down and starts to rub up and down my arm. After a moment or so of silence, I start to debate on whether to ask what happened with his date.

“Matt?” i say, slightly tilting my chin up so i can see his face.

“Yeah y/n?” he says looking down at me.

“What happened with your date?” i say after finally working up the courage.

“Uhm-“ he shifts his body uncomfortably but continues to speak. “Mackie thought it was just a friend thing, i guess. so when she showed up and she had a bunch of friends with her, I got kind of annoyed and just wasn’t feeling it anymore.” He says in an unbothered tone.

“Wasn’t you clear on the fact that you liked her?” i say in a quiet voice.

“Woah not a fact. I didn’t like her, i was just slightly attracted to her and i just needed to-“ He stops talking and clears his throat. I can feel my cheeks go red as my mind understands what he’s trying to say and I feel a bulge grow beside my leg. i decide this is my chance to tease him.

“Ma-“ i start to sit up but he shoots up quickly “wanna go get food?” he says quickly standing up and putting his sneakers on. I am kinda hungry.

“Uhm yeah sure” I say with an awkward smile as i grab a blue hoodie out of my closet to throw on over my black t shirt.

“Ready?” he says, standing in my doorway. I nod and we go downstairs, I grab my car keys off the table and we both walk out the door.

“You drive” I say, tossing him the keys over the roof of my dark purple jeep Cherokee. He smiles and slides into the drivers seat.

I get into the passenger side and he immediately reaches over to buckle my seat belt. He’s done this ever since I was able to drive. He says i forget to do it so he just does it for me. His long, slender fingers sliding the buckle in sends a shiver down my spine. He turns on the ignition and I make sure my body is angling toward him. I pull my cherry lipgloss out of my pocket and apply it, once i feel his eyes on me, I move extra slow and run my tongue across my lips, acting as if i’m not paying attention to him but i can see him staring at me out of the corner of his eyes. “fuck” he mutters extremely quietly.

“Hm?” I say, turning my head back to face him.

“uh” he shakes his head “matt, are you okay?” i roll his name off of my tongue as seductively as i can as i lean over the middle console. We stop at a red light and i take the opportunity. “matt, look at me” he does so.

“Your acting weird.” i say once his eyes meet mine.

“You know what your doing y/n” he says lowly before the light turns green and he adverts his attention back to the road.

“I don’t know what your talking about.” i say with a slight giggle as he continues the drive to central downtown. “You know the reason mackie thought it was a friend thing is because of you right? she thinks we’re together.” matt says harshly while pulling over by a dark, empty field. “you’re gonna cock block me and then have the audacity to rile me the fuck up like this?”

His eyes grow dark as he unbuckles his seat belt and puts the car in park. His hand starts traveling up my thigh.

“I cock blocked you? how is that my fault that she thinks we’re together?” i spit out, my breathing heavy at the feeling of his touch.

“I see you y/n, eye fucking me anytime we’re near each other. You’ve been having those thoughts for a while now yeah?” He says, leaning extremely close now, our faces inches apart.

“Matt-“ my breathing hitches when he unbuckles me and pulls me onto his lap so i’m now straddling him.

“Fuck y/n. that lipgloss.” he says in a shaky voice while bringing his thumb up to my lips.

“Matt- don’t touch me if you don’t have feelings for me because you know damn well that i-“ i start to rant but he quickly presses his mouth to mine. I pull away quickly.

“So you do-“ i try to speak but his mouth is on mine again. His lips as soft as i thought they would be. His hands traveling up my sides, his grip firm as i feel his dick harden underneath me. I groan against the feeling as his tongue swipes against my lip seeking for entry which I allow. Our tongues gliding across one another in a fight for dominance. “Please” i groan quietly into his ear.

“please what baby? use your words.”

“touch me” i say into his ear as i start to kiss down his neck. he wastes no time as his hands quickly start to slide my sweatpants off. I move with him to make it easier for him to glide my pants off.

“fuck your drenched” he says breathlessly as he starts to rub my clothed pussy.

“Matt” i moan out.

“hm?”

“more” i pant out.

“more of what baby? tell me what you need.” he says while kissing my neck. his lips tugging and nipping at my sensitive skin.

“you matt- i want-“ my face goes red not wanting to say it.

“Say it baby. use your words.”

“i want your dick” i muster up the courage to spat out. He shifts underneath me and lets out a whimper at my words. his erection must be painful by now. He quickly slides his pants down to his thighs and lets his member spring free from the confines of his boxers, the tip red and swollen, already leaking pre cum.

“It’s too big-“ i say starting to panic at his at least 8 inches.

“your gonna be a good girl and take it, yeah?” he says and i nod eagerly. He places his hands on my hips and i help guide him to my entrance, his tip gathering in my juices before sliding into me causing me to let out a loud moan. He gives me barely any time to adjust before he’s ramming into me at a steady pace.

“Your so tight” he grunts out before leaning his head back against the seat.

“Ma-“ my words are cut off by the involuntary noises that start stringing from me when he starts to fuck up into me. I can already feel my release building and by the way his legs are shaking i can tell he’s almost there too. “Such a good girl” he praises which makes me go faster chasing our highs.

“Fuck y/n-“ he grunts out as i release onto him with a yell and he shoots his load into me. His thrusts slow down, riding out our high as we both slow our breathing. He pulls out and i rest my head on his shoulder.

“you know i love you right?” he says quietly, almost as if he’s afraid i’ll actually hear.

“you’re not just saying that because of what just happened are you?” i say quickly out of fear.

“Fuck no. No y/n, I just never knew that you felt like that about me until tonight.” He says while petting the back of my hair soothingly.

“I love you too matt” i say, placing a quick kiss onto his lips.

#sturniolos #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #dom!matt #praise k!nk

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mushies-stories · 19 days

Text

Our home

Drabble -Fluff

John Price X GN!Reader

Summary: your newly moved in and John has been spending a lot of time at work, so much that you were starting to really feel neglected. John will make it better though, he has too.

Warnings: crying?

Authors note: hiiii i adore super sweet and adorable price :D thats it, this is comfort and fluffy.

John had been working later the past few weeks and you were really starting to feel abandoned. He would come home after you were already fast asleep. Though you had tried to stay up later the first week, it became evident he was not going to be coming home anytime soon. He woke so early you barely get to have a sip of coffee with him in your plush robe and messy hair before he's out the door. Leaving you with a kiss to the forehead and a little pout on your lips.

You were growing more and more fed up with not having a moment with him, you had moved in to be closer but he's been working so much you feel like you're living alone again. You try to convince yourself you're being dramatic, that he’s a captain and he's busy. His work was important and you shouldn’t feel like he's ignoring you… he’s not leaving you behind, no, never… right? You can't help but have those thoughts, that he has already grown tired of you.

It was when you noticed it had been nearly a month, he had stayed late every night, came home to you sleeping and left before you hardly had time to wake up. The whole day you couldn't help the moping. You shuffled around the house on your day off with nothing to do. You had no motivation to call up a friend or even go to a store. All you wanted was for John to come home early for once or even on time.

You finally got tired, watching a dumb movie on the couch and fell asleep. A blanket half haphazardly slung over your middle while you curled up into a little ball.

Hours later John was quietly closing the door and taking his boots off when he looked over and saw you. You were asleep on the couch with the movie's home screen lighting the room.

He smiles softly when he crouches in front of you, a hand coming up to stroke your hair. “Love.” he says softly, making you stir in your sleep. “C’mon love, lets get ya ta bed, eh?” his thumb strokes your cheek gently.

You shake your head a little and swat his hand away. “D’wanna.” is all you mumble.

John cocks a brow at you. “Why not, what's wrong with our bed lovie?” he asks, his fingers continuing to try and soothe you awake.

You nuzzle into the couch a little. “To empty.” your voice is quiet, justice above a whisper.

Confused John shakes his head before sliding his arms under you then lifting you to his chest. You let out a squeaky yelp and cling to his shirt. He takes you to the bedroom while you try and blink your eyes awake. “What ya talkin’bout? Cause yer pretty self ain't in it, that's why.” he retorts and sets you down on the bed.

You can't help the tears that immediately form in your eyes when you look up at him. He didn't get it…”No that’s… it’s empty because of-” you hesitate a moment, a tear rolling down your cheek and look down at your lap, avoiding John's eyes.

He doesn't like that. Slowly long fingers are tilting your chin up so your eyes are locked with his. “What is it love, what's wrong?” he asks, voice smooth and calming. He didn’t understand why you were so sad all of a sudden but he didn’t like it.

You blink a few tears away which he swiped at with the pad of his thumb. You let out a shaky breath. “You… it's so empty and you aren't here John.” you finally confess. Your tears fall uncontrollably now and you can’t help the little hiccup that escapes you. You hadn’t even realized you had been this affected until you couldn't stop crying.

John hates seeing you this way, he never liked when you cried and the fact that he caused it? No he couldn’t have this. You were his world, how could he sit here and watch you suffer because of him.

“Love, I'm sorry, ya know I don't mean to be gone so much.” he sank to one knee in front of you and placed his hands on your thighs, looking up at you. “I love ya so much doll, ya know i do, don't ya?” he asks, eyes focused on your blurry ones.

You nod a little. “I know…” You tell him, voice hushed and shaky.

He mirrors your small nod with a little smile. “Sometimes i need a little remindin is all. Need you to tell me to slow down sometimes because my work has always taken everything over.” he lets out a short breath. “But i need ya too love, i think about you all day. Been trying to finish up this last bit of preparation and paperwork before this next mission. I'll be gone for a while and i just want to spend as much time with ya before i go.” he explained, the exhaustion and stress written clear across his face.

The way John looked at you, so much care and concern, you knew he didn’t mean to make you feel this way. You smile a little and bring a hand up to his jaw, caressing the softness of his beard. “I'm sorry, I just started to really miss you.” you admit. “i know you work hard, i don't want to add any more stress an-”

“Dove, please dont say stuff like that.” John cuts you off before your head can spiral too fast. “Ya’ve done nothin wrong. Ya need to tell me these things, tell me when yer hurting so i can help. I need ya to be okay above all else, got that?”

Your smile widens a little. “I will, I promise.” you say and lean in to press your soft lips to his, giving him a gentle kiss. “I love you John.” you tell him when you pull back to look into his eyes again. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

With his hands now traveling along your thighs, John smirks up at you. “Probably better off.” he jokes, a little.

You swat at his shoulder and shake your head. “Don't say that.” you scold with a half-hearted scowl. “You're good for me John, you can't tell me otherwise.” you say adamantly.

He smiles at you, big and genuine. “Well, how’sbout this, tomorrow i'll go to the barracks, delegate a little and come home early?” John offers, his hands now kneading your plush thighs. His calloused fingers

Your eyes light up. “Really?”

He nods. “Really, the boys can handle it for one day.” He says.

You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle a little into his neck. “I'd really like that.” you say, voice going shaky again. Your tears were from joy and relief however. John was so kind and he listened to you, never blamed you and treated you so wonderfully. You were glad you were here with him, in his home and his life.

John welcomed your embrace by wrapping his own arms around your back, pulling you into his lap on the ground. You giggled when he peppered the side of your head with kisses. “So, what do you want to do tomorrow, whatever you want, love.”

You think for a moment but only one thought comes to mind. “I want to stay here, at home. I want to spend that day relaxing and enjoying some peaceful time together… maybe we could make dinner together too?” you offer, pulling back enough to look up at him a little.

“That sounds wonderful love.” He agrees and kisses the top of your head.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough you thought.

#cod #call of duty x reader #call of duty #call of duty imagine #John price #captain john price #price x reader #john price x reader #price imagine #john price imagine #cod x reader #cod imagine #tf 141 x reader #tf141 imagine #tf141

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bookyeom · 3 months

Text

pairing: woozi x reader word count: 3.4K warnings: a couple of swears, kissing, alcohol, sad!reader, sad!jihoon

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.

flatline by 5 seconds of summer

someone just like you, no one else i’m falling for the first time heart is gonna flatline now i can’t even look at you you’re like staring at the sunshine

You stand outside the crowded bar, grateful for the respite of fresh air after your time in the hazy, grimy dance club. There are only a few other patrons smoking or loitering outside as you wait for your ride to arrive, because it’s only midnight and inside, the party is just beginning.

Your head is buzzing pleasantly as you squint at your phone to check the time, the bright light from the screen making you wince. 12:07. If you were more sober, you would probably laugh at yourself. You’d gone out for a friend's birthday, but as soon as you had said the satisfactory hellos and gotten sufficiently drunk — which, arguably, didn’t take long — you’d been ready to go home. At midnight.

Your younger self is cringing.

As you gracefully get into your Uber and the driver begins to wind through the streets from the bar to your apartment, you pull up the last text thread on your phone. A smile is already on your lips just at the sight of the contact name.

Y/N [12:08am]: On my way hoooome. Hope u waited up for me!!

Your roommate shoots back a reply almost instantly, and you giggle at his response, your hand lifting to cover your mouth.

Jihoon-Ah [12:09am]: Ok. I’m still working, so keep your drunk ass quiet.

If you had it your way, he’d have come out with you. He knows all of your friends and you know all of his, but the club scene isn’t really his vibe. Plus, he has a music final due tomorrow – today? – and if there’s one thing he’s dead serious about, it’s his music.

Jihoon-Ah [12:13am]: Door’s unlocked. Be safe.

You feel a flush spread across your cheeks as the second message comes through, and warmth floods all the way down to your toes.

Jihoon always manages to do that to you. Make you blush, make you feel warm and fuzzy, make you laugh. It’s funny, because to those who don’t know him, he seems quiet and private, and maybe even a little bit closed off. But with his friends, with those who get to know him, he’s brash and hilarious, and he cares a hell of a lot about those who care about him. He’s one of your best friends, your roommate, and quite possibly the love of your life.

He doesn’t know about that last part, though, and you don’t plan on telling him anytime soon.

“Jihoon-ah,” you singsong as you finally make it into your shared apartment. He doesn’t turn to look at you from his spot on the couch, but you know he’s heard you come in by his grunt of acknowledgement. He remains where you left him, on the couch and hunched over his laptop, black hair mussed from where he’s probably been running his fingers through it as he agonises over his piece. You hastily take off your shoes before you cross the room, flopping down next to him unceremoniously. He glances at you briefly before turning back to his screen.

“Did you have fun?” He asks without looking at you.

“Mhm,” you mumble back. It’s quiet for a few moments, the sound of his fingers clicking away lulling you into a daze until he speaks up once more.

“You should change,” he says, and you turn to stretch out your legs, pointing your toes. He glances at you again as you do so, eyebrows raised. “You took off the shoes, thank god, but you’re probably not comfortable in that dress anymore.”

You yawn, smiling at his thoughtful comment before replying, “It’s called fashion, Jihoon, look it up. Beauty is pain.”

“I already told you before you went out that you looked nice, don’t push it.”

You let out a laugh at that, and the quiet smile on his lips betrays any real irritation on his part. You watch him for a moment, your eyes lingering for far too long on the softness of his mouth as he focuses back on his work.

You really hadn’t stood a single chance against falling in love with him, had you?

“I’m too tired to change,” comes your weak mumble.

“Okay,” he responds easily, his attention back on his computer again. You take the opportunity to let your eyes trace over his profile one more time; his eyelashes, his nose, the curve of his lips. The quiet contentment remains on his face, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed knowing that you’re part of the reason for it.

Your eyes finally turn to wander across the laptop screen to see what he’s working on, your head falling onto his shoulder. You’d have done it sober too, but with a bit of alcohol in your system, you’re just slightly less nervous. You can feel him tense. Your eyes fall to where his hands have paused, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve stressed him out with the physical contact, but then his shoulders relax. It takes only a few seconds before he begins clicking and typing again, and you can’t help but smile.

You’re looking at his computer and, subsequently, at his unfinished work. You can still recall when he’d been hesitant to let anyone see his music — let alone his drunk, touchy roommate. Yet somehow, you’ve managed to secure a coveted spot in the small group of people Jihoon trusts enough to share his work with. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still freak out every time he shares a piece he’s working on – he does, and you know that – but he insists that he wants to show you anyway. You often feel a strong sense of satisfaction in knowing what that means. It means that he trusts you — and that’s an incredible privilege.

You stay on the couch like that for a few more minutes as he continues to work, until a yawn overtakes you and on instinct, your nose turns to burrow into the crook of his neck. You let out a sigh, falling into a false sense of security for just a moment — into a world where Jihoon is yours to be with like this. Your eyes fall shut. You hardly register your own movement until it hits you that Jihoon’s entire body has gone rigid, and your eyes shoot open in a panic. You don’t think you’ve ever done that before – nuzzled into his neck like you belong there.

And now you’re terrified that you’ve finally crossed a line that you can’t come back from.

Another thing that Jihoon allows you to do more than anyone else is initiate physical contact. You’d taken advantage, and lately you’ve been toeing the line of too much. It just feels so easy to do, because you’re so drawn to him, to who he is, to the way he makes you feel — but you know it’s not fair of you. Not when he hasn’t ever expressed feeling the same way, not when he hasn’t ever protested as you go on dates, not when he hasn’t ever initiated anything himself. Jihoon always tells you it’s okay when you’re touchy, that he doesn’t mind it every once in a while, but you can’t help but feel like a complete fool.

He’s not yours, and he doesn’t want to be.

You abruptly feel yourself sober up as you scramble to move away, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“You didn’t have to move,” comes his blunt reassurance, his eyes not leaving the screen of his laptop.

“I know you hate being touchy. I should have asked first. Sorry.”

“You’re always like this, especially when you’re drunk,” he retorts, “I don’t know why you’re only apologizing today.” You can’t help but shrink back against the couch, defeated.

“Sorry,” you say again, your voice small.

Jihoon looks at you then, eyebrows raised in surprise, like he really had no clue you were actually upset. “Hey, it’s okay. I always let you do it,” he adds after a moment.

“Yeah…” You trail off, and you hate the way you sound a bit like a child as you repeat, “but you hate it.”

Normally, Jihoon would ignore your tipsy pouting. He’s usually not the best at reading people – self-proclaimed – but this time, he seems to sense something’s wrong. He searches your face, and when you look away, he gently nudges your foot with his. “I don’t hate it when it’s you,” he says, quiet and serious, and you can feel his eyes still on you.

“Soonyoung and Y/N privilege,” you try to joke as you meet his eyes again, and Jihoon nods slowly. His eyebrows knit together, like he’s trying to figure something out. Whatever it is, you don’t think you want him to. “I’m going to bed,” you say, and he nods again. Neither of you says anything else, but you can feel his eyes following you as you disappear into your bedroom.

It’s not unusual for Jihoon to emerge from his room around midday. What is unusual, however, is for him to be up any earlier than 10:00am. So when you leave your room at 9:30 a few days later only to find him hunched over your kitchen island, to say you’re surprised is an understatement. He’s got a near-full cup of tea in front of him, and he’s staring into the void. He doesn’t turn, even when you clear your throat, and you’re beginning to panic now.

“Jihoon?” Your hand itches to reach for him as you approach, but you don’t. You feel distinctly as though you’re trying not to startle a deer.

“Hm?” The sound of his name seems to finally jolt him out of it, and he turns to meet your eyes. Your heart breaks a little. He looks exhausted — more than usual. There’s something about his face that suggests it’s more of a mental than physical kind of tired, and you want nothing more than to give him a hug.

You tread carefully. “Did you… Go to the gym already?”

Jihoon shakes his head. You didn’t think so, given that he’s still in the shorts and t-shirt he usually sleeps in, but it seemed like a safe enough topic. He says nothing more. Why else would he be up this early? Your brain is running a million miles a minute. Something is clearly wrong, but how can you help?

You’re silent as you go about your morning, making breakfast as usual — except that this time, you make twice as much. When you place two boiled eggs and some cereal in front of him, it takes him a second to react. You try not to flush when you feel his eyes on you as you sit across from him, scrolling through your phone and taking a bite of your own food instead of acknowledging it.

“Thank you.”

You look at him when he speaks. The corner of his mouth is tilted up just so, in that quiet, wonderful Jihoon way, and you can’t help but smile back. “Of course.”

It’s quiet between the two of you as you eat. You try not to think too much about it, but lately, sitting in silence around your friend has been almost unbearable. There’s just so much you want to say, especially after the other night.

“How do you always know?”

You look at him again, eyebrows knitting together as you process his question. “Know what?”

He gazes at you for a moment, and the intensity of it has your neck flushing. Then he looks down at his plate again, and you remind yourself to breathe.

For a second you think that there's something there, something hovering between you. You just don’t know what.

“You always know when something’s up with me.”

You shrug, trying desperately not to show just how flustered you are that he’s noticed. “I’m an empath,” you offer, and Jihoon lets out a soft breath of laughter. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t, and it almost feels like you’re both holding your breath now.

Neither of you had mentioned that night the week before. Though a part of you knows that it’s best to just let it be, another part of you almost wishes he’d brought it up. You’re so in love with him that it makes you nauseous, and you’re so aware of it. He’s all you think about, and you worry that if you don’t say it out loud soon, you’re going to explode during one of these quiet moments. You’ve tried so hard to ignore it, to push it down, but the feelings just won’t quit.

And you have no idea what to do about it.

Y/N [4:12pm]: what’s my favourite music man up to?

You sniffle from your spot on your couch, curled up in your favourite fuzzy blanket. You’re miserable, despite your sunny sounding text. That’s your job, though, isn’t it? To be the happy friend? To pretend everything’s fine when it’s not?

You’d just gotten home from a grueling day at work. You’d been hoping that your roommate was home – not because you’d actually have told him you were upset, but because seeing his face makes your day brighter. But he’s not, and you’re alone.

Jihoon-ah [4:34pm]: working. I’ll be late today

Y/N [4:35pm]: classic jihoon. guess I’ll just eat alone :(

Usually, Jihoon’s short texts don’t bother you, because you know him and you know he means nothing by it. It gets to you tonight, though, because all you want right now is for him to hold you.

You wouldn’t ever ask him for it.

You selfishly wish that he would just know that you need him, but he doesn’t. He’s busy, and he’s not very affectionate at the best of times. The worst part of it all, though, is that deep down, you know he would do anything for you if you asked. But you won’t.

It’s not his fault, you remind yourself. If you don’t tell people what you want, you can’t expect them to know.

You’re in your room a couple of hours later, curled up as you watch an episode of your newest binge. You’d let yourself cry, let yourself feel everything even though it hurt, and now it was on to phase two: distraction.

You’re so enthralled in your show that you don’t even hear the front door open and close. When a knock sounds at your bedroom door, you jump and sit up straight. The knock comes again, and you freeze.

“It’s me.”

Your eyes fall to your phone to check the time. You hadn’t expected him for another hour at least. You get up slowly, grimacing as you pass your reflection in the mirror, and move to open the door. He looks out of breath, almost as if he ran home, his eyes wide and his jacket still on.

“Jihoon?” You blink. “Why are you here? I thought you were working.”

“Can I come in?” He asks instead of answering. You step aside, trying to figure out why he’s home early — and why he’s knocking at your bedroom door. It’s quiet for a minute before you sit back on your bed, gesturing for Jihoon to join you. He does, hesitantly, and the room is so quiet that your heart starts to race a little.

“Is everything okay?”

He takes a deep breath. “Are you…” He winces as he trails off, a hand lifting to run through his hair. He tries again. “Are you having a bad day?”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. “Huh?”

“Seungcheol told me that you were having a bad day.” He looks embarrassed as he says it, and you remember that you’d told your mutual friend about your shitty boss’s latest antics at lunch.

“Oh,” you manage, reminding yourself to scold Seungcheol later.

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to ground himself, and then he’s pushing forward again. “So… Are you? Having a bad day?”

You debate lying so as not to worry him, but he’s looking at you so intently that you just know you can’t. You look down at your hands. “Kind of.” Your voice is quieter now, and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Okay.”

“Yeah.” It’s quiet, and you kind of wish to be swallowed whole.

“I wish you’d told me,” he admits.

“It’s okay. I didn’t want to interrupt your… stuff.”

He shakes his head, almost like he’s frustrated, and you wish — not for the first time — that he was a bit easier to read.

“Your stuff is important to me, too,” is what he finally says, and you can feel how warm your face is getting.

“I know, but it’s okay. It’s nothing big,” you try to reassure him. “I’ll get over it.”

Jihoon hums, and when you look over at him again, you find him with his hands clasped together in his lap as he leans forward. He still seems frustrated, but you’re not sure why. “I came home as soon as he told me,” he tells you, and your stomach flips.

“You didn’t have to—“

“I’m sorry I’m bad at reading between the lines.” His interruption surprises you, and you blink back at him.

“Huh?”

Jihoon sighs, turning his body towards yours. “Even when I don’t tell you, you always know if I’m upset about something. I wish I was better at that, but I just get so focused and I don’t notice things. You know how I am.”

“It’s okay, Jihoon,” you say again. “I can’t expect you to just know how I’m feeling.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. His gaze on you is intense, his eyes wandering across your face, and you suddenly feel self-conscious. “I guess I just wish that you, and everyone else, would be more straight up with me.”

You bite your lip. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No. Don’t be sorry, just…” He takes in another breath. You’re holding yours. “Can you please tell me next time?”

“I will. I just… don’t want you to worry about me.”

“You don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time,” he says. “Not with me.”

Your heart is ready to beat out of your chest. All you can do is say, “Wow, Jihoon, it kind of sounds like you care about me.”

When he responds easily with, “I do,” your mouth falls open a little.

The soft tone of his voice is so tender, so serious. What surprises you even more is the way he’s avoiding your eyes now, hand scratching at the back of his neck. Is he… blushing?

“I want to be there for you,” he adds a moment later, and you think you must be dreaming. He straightens, meeting your eyes again, and your breath is caught in your throat. He searches your face for a moment before he says, “I’m bad at knowing when people need me. I know that. But I’m telling you that I want you to tell me when you need me, because I want to be there for you.”

“Jihoon…”

“Please tell me you understand what I’m saying.”

The room falls silent. Your mind is running a mile a minute as you process, but you know you have to take the risk — so you do.

Your fingers find his, a slow brush of skin against skin as you wait for him to make the next move. Your heart nearly beats out of your chest when he closes the gap, lacing his fingers through yours, and squeezes.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I understand exactly what you’re saying.”

“And?”

“I care about you too, Lee Jihoon. So much.”

“Yeah?” It comes out as a whisper, and you’re rewarded with a smile when you nod.

“Yeah.” You flush, opening your mouth to speak again, but nothing comes out. Jihoon tilts his head as you play with his fingers nervously.

“What?”

“Can you… Would you kiss me?”

Jihoon’s smile widens, even though you can see the tips of his ears turning red in the dim light of your room. “I can do that,” he murmurs, his free hand finding your face, and your nervous inhale is quieted by his mouth on yours.

It’s gentle and slow. It’s Jihoon, and he’s kissing you, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

When you pull away, you’re blushing. You let your forehead fall forward against his shoulder, and you can feel him laugh as his hand lifts to your back.

“Do you want to talk?“ He asks gently. “About your day?”

You shake your head no, moving back to look up at him as you say, “Don’t worry. My day is much better now.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on pov and idk! Here’s the third of our Thirteen Valentines. Nana Tour!Woozi has ruined my life as much as he has ruined yours. xoxo

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed <3

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars @darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, sorry!)

#woozi fluff #woozi angst #woozi imagine #woozi x you #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #ljhfic #my writing #thirteenvalentines #seventeen fluff #Also yes i changed his song don’t @ me

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fadingdaggerr · 7 months

Note

Can you make a fic based on my two fav melissa schementti fantasies

melissa calling reader by pet names and making them completely flustered x melissa making reader jealous on purpose

basically all this happens before they date/confess

and when melissa has had enough of reader not making any moves and hiding from her, melissa takes charge and ends up making out w reader.

i know this is a little difficult to write but tysm i really love ur fics 😭🫶🫶

wishful thinking

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above!

warnings/includes: ridiculously clueless!r and a not clueless mel, gary but only for plot purposes, making out

translations: gioia (joy/happiness), tesoro (darling/treasure), gavone (pig/slob)

note: i’m so sorry i haven’t been active. i’ve been dealing with a lot the last few months and haven’t had even a second to breathe. better note at the end <3

Melissa would never admit to anyone how much she liked the effect she had on you. She loved to watch your head duck down nervously when she complimented you or guided you along with a hand on your lower back. Every single time she left the light tremor of your body, but not once did she mention it. You were glad she couldn’t feel your heartbeat the moment her attention was on you.

—

The first time she noticed it changed her entire perspective on you.

Melissa wasn’t the kind to talk to the new hires, the turnover rates at Abbott were laughable and they never stayed more than a couple of months. But after a few months, she started to pay attention. Over time, she got to see just how much you really cared for the kids. She had stopped by to ask if you had an extra purple whiteboard marker, but she was met with the sight of you kneeling in front of one of your students, big, sad tears in her eyes. She could just barely hear the mutterings of I know it hurts sweetie and the one that made a little smile cross her lips, of course I have shark band-aids, what am i? A chump? She sees you start to stand to grab the bandage and decides to move now before she gets caught staring.

Right as she steps close to you, you rise and spin around. Your action staggers as you notice her form too late, and nearly falling as you try to avoid running into her, nearly. Strong hands grasp your upper arms, saving you from landing flat on your ass.

Your head tilts up to face her, finally registering that it was Melissa. It takes you a second to breathe before you let out a little, “thank you.”

“Of course, hon. My fault anyways,” she says with a small smile. There’s an almost too long pause before she realizes her hands are still on your arms, dropping them immediately to fold them across her chest. You’re almost in a daze just looking at her, but you have to keep up appearances.

“Did you need something?” You say with a soft smile. Melissa noticed how your eyes never left hers for a second after she called you hon, she also thinks that you’d never looked her in the eyes before then. It had never gone unnoticed that you always looked at her bangs or the frame of her glasses whenever you’d spoken before.

Interesting... Melissa thinks to herself.

—

And then Melissa began to see a pattern.

You’d given her the extra dollar she needed for her iced tea, four quarters stacked tails-up in front of her. She didn’t ask anyone, only sighed when she checked her purse.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Melissa said without really thinking.

Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before you catch yourself, accompanied by a quick inhale. Licking your lips and averting your eyes from her, you quietly say, “yeah. of course, anytime.”

Barbara must notice Melissa’s intrigue suddenly and speaks up, “dear, why don’t you come sit with us? I don’t think we’ve gotten a chance to know each other just yet.”

This marked the start of yours and Melissa’s friendship.

—

“You got plans Saturday?” Melissa says as she pours a cup of coffee into her Tucci mug.

You look up from your phone and take a breath in, “I have lunch with my cousin at noon, but I’m free later on. Why, what do you have planned?”

“That flea market’s coming back around, the one with the good antiques and the petting zoo,” you almost speak but she cuts you off, “oh, and that apple cider you liked.”

You smile at her remembering that detail before responding, “yeah, that sounds perfect. I can text you when I leave the diner.” Your voice thankfully doesn’t seem to give away how nervous you were trying not to seem. You take a sip from your mug to hide yourself for a moment.

“Great. I’m looking forward to it, babe,” she says through a sip of her own coffee. She stays just long enough to watch you nearly choke on your tea, and then slips out to walk to her classroom with a satisfied smirk on her face.

—

At the development week meeting, she turned to see you looking around for a place to sit. When you miss her wave to get your attention, she decides to yell your name across the gymnasium to get you to look in her direction. Your head whips her way, a grateful smile on your face when you see her waving you over. She decidedly loves the shy smile that was reserved for only her.

Stepping over nurse Makiah to get to the free seat, you finally plop down next to the redhead. Something possesses Melissa and her arm moves on its own to rest across the back of your seat, hand resting on your arm. She feels you stiffen for a moment, almost thinking she’d overstep, but you relax into her touch.

“You didn’t have to save me a seat. These are prime real estate to bleacher-leaners,” you mumble to her as one of the eighth grade teachers goes on about something that wasn’t as important as her fingers tracing little patterns over your shirt.

Melissa chuckles lightly, squeezing your shoulder lightly. She leans in to answer, “but then I wouldn’t have you sitting here, tesoro.” Your eyes go to your lap as you fail to hide the smile from her words, making the redhead’s heart rate pick up.

“You’re too nice to me, Schemmenti,” you say as you lift your head, with what little courage you have, to look at her and smile, leaning into her for a second.

—

Then an idea struck Melissa

Tuesday was vending machine restock day. Tuesday was your new least favorite day of the week. Totally unrelated.

Gary, the vending machine guy, had started a habit of flirting with Melissa. He started with giving her a free iced tea straight from the truck, and then chatting, then complimenting, and then just straight up checking her out with no shame. Every time he entered the room, your voice died in your throat, and your eyes stayed trained on him with a special kind of hatred. You were at least thankful Melissa hadn’t noticed the rage you felt when he had a conversation with her breasts. Melissa, in fact, did notice.

She watched how you stared daggers into his back as he spoke to her, completely unaware of her attention flicking to you every now and then. Your fork angrily stabbed at the lunch she’d brought you, not a single bite being taken since the vendor walked in the door. The more forward Gary got, the quieter and angrier you became. Once he left and Melissa’s focus went back to you entirely, as it always was, your shoulders relaxed and the assault on the pasta stopped.

Melissa decides she has a theory to test. She plays into Gary’s flirting some more, enough that the man is clearly picking up on it, and your hand stills. By the third week, Barbara is begging her to go on a date with the man.

“Girl, he likes you. You should give it a shot, he’s a nice man. Handsome too,” Barbara says with enthusiasm. Your eyes roll as you look at your phone, trying to tune out this conversation. Your resolve cracks a little when Ava mumbles that’s generous in response to Barbara’s comment, a tiny chuckle espacing you.

The kindergarten teacher nudges your hand, “don’t you think she should go for it?”

You struggle with trying to not just flat out say no so instead you settle with, “yeah. Gary seems really nice.” The thin smile on your face is unconvincing to both women, and it’s easy to read on both their faces. You quickly grab your stuff and stand, “I’m gonna head back to my room and pass out their math quizzes. I’ll see you later.”

Once the door closes behind you, Barbara looks at Melissa, “what was that?”

Melissa just shrugs, feigning obliviousness.

When Gary finally gets the nerve to ask her out, she laughs and agrees. You think the gods above must have it out for you, not letting you escape any interaction between the two. The fork in your hand just stabs harder at the food in the tupperware. After watching with a tinge of regret, Melissa finally speaks up.

“You alright over there, gioia?” She asks, her voice filled with real concern. You look at her for a moment, considering what to say, but settle with a nod. When your gaze drops again, you miss her lips dipping into a small frown.

—

Monday morning after the big date, you realize that being in the lounge was a mistake. You should have known to go straight to your classroom, but the need to see Melissa overrode your actions.

As you walked in, everyone was facing Melissa and asking her about every little detail of the date. Where’d they go? Was the food good? Did he offer to pay it all or ask to split the bill? What did she wear? She gives them all they want to hear, and only Ava asks what you didn’t want to know.

“Cut the bull. Did you let him hit or not?”

A chorus of AVA! goes around the room.

The redhead just sighs before answering, “why did you say it like that? And no, I did not ‘let him hit,’ Ava.” You hate that some tension leaves your shoulders after that. The rest of the time is spent with your eyes trained at the floor and ringing in your ears.

Melissa regrets her idea a lot more when she stops seeing your smile altogether and your eyes stop meeting hers.

—

She finally snaps.

Janine had planned to make a whole outing for the Abbott crew, inviting everyone out to a new arcade-bar that Erica had told her about. She’d told Melissa that she should invite Gary, saying that everyone wanted to meet him in a social setting and not just in the ten minutes he was in the school every Tuesday. Inviting Gary couldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

Gary’s phone went to voicemail for the fifth time and all eight of her texts were unanswered. He said he would come, that he wanted to meet everyone for real, but now he was a no show. Melissa felt like a teenager again, getting stood up by her date to homecoming while she waited outside for him. She turned to walk back in, almost running into you as you were coming to check on her.

“Everything alright?” You ask, knowing the answer already since she can’t hide her emotions well when she’s upset.

She huffs a laugh, “peachy. Jackass said he would be here almost an hour ago and won’t return my calls or anything.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” You ask jokingly, but there’s a certain hope she’ll say yes that sits in your chest. Your heart almost can’t handle it when she smiles at your words, arm looping with yours as she drags you to the pinball machines.

You’d probably lost a student-loan payment in quarters by the time either of you had even won a single game you played. In the course of two hours, both of you had only managed to get a collective hundred tickets that could maybe win you each an eraser. Melissa pretends to not notice you cheating in the driving games, and you pretend not to notice her taking quarters from your cup.

You watch an equally competitive Ava and Melissa play a scary-good match of air hockey, each of them likely to have bruises on their knuckles by the end of the night from how hard they played. Each time she scored, the redhead’s eyes moved to you for approval, and each time she’s met with a little applause and smile from you.

“Wasn’t your man supposed to be here? Or were the Kit-Kats not behaving?” Ava says when they finally take a break from the game to take a drink.

Melissa just shrugs, “he hasn’t answered anything. If the gavone decides to say anything, then he’ll be getting an earful, or a bat to the head. Depends on what he says.”

“Do you even like this idiot?” Ava asks incredulously, saying exactly what you’d been thinking for weeks since they’d had their first date.

Melissa shrugs, “he’s alright. The first date was nice, but the rest have just been him trying to get in my pants.”

“Well,” Ava’s brows bounced a couple times, “are you gonna let him in or not?”

You check out entirely before listening to Melissa’s answer, not even caring how suddenly you left the conversation, just letting your legs carry you until you could finally breathe. You find yourself back with the old pinball machines that no one but you and Melissa had played. Only a few seconds of silence manages to pass before you hear the muffled stomp of boots on carpet, stopping right behind you.

“You gonna tell me what that was?” Melissa asks with your back facing her.

You should have known it was her that would follow you. Part of you wanted to lie and say that the drinks made you feel sick, but you both knew that they were too watered down to even intoxicate a toddler. The other part of you just wanted to scream about how it should be you on those dates with her, driving her home and walking her to the door. You turned to meet her eyes and any courage you had left, feeling like putty when she was so focused on you and you alone. Even though you know what her response will be, you just say, “it was nothing. I’ll be back inside in a minute.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” she says, stepping closer, “you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Just... I dunno, just leaving. You can be in the same room as me and it feels like you’re miles away.”

Your gaze drops to your feet, suddenly feeling insecure now that you know she’s noticed your behavior. You put all your energy into stabling your voice and keeping your lips from quivering at the thought of upsetting her. All you can muster in a tiny voice is, “I’m sorry.”

Melissa surprises you by pulling you into a tight hug, whispering to you, “is this about Gary?” Your heart stops at her words, knowing you’d been found out. The lack of answer and the way your body stiffens tells Melissa everything she needs to know, what she already knew.

Melissa knows that you’ll likely try to explain away anything the second she loosens her hold on you, that you’ll run and she’ll never get this close ever again. So she does the only thing that she can think of at this moment.

As she pulls away, Melissa’s hands cup your face, pulling you into her lips. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel her lips press against yours, soft and eager. After a moment, she realizes you’re not kissing her back, her heart cracking as she pulls away from you, ready to run. Her hands drop from your face, eyes blinking rapidly as doubt clouds her mind. Your mind catches up, realizing what had just happened. Melissa begins to turn to leave, but is stopped by your hand in hers. You tug her back to you, cupping her face and leaning forward to finally kiss her back.

She tasted like lipstick and watery vodka, her hands were warm against your wrists where they held tightly. Your mind was in hyperdrive as you took in her lips and her touch, hardly noticing her moving you until your hips met the game behind you. Melissa’s lips parted, her tongue brushing across your bottom lip to ask for entry. You were quick to allow her in, letting her dominate your lips as her hands dropped to grab at your waist. The taste of her lips and tongue became quickly addictive, the feeling even more so. Your hands migrate from her face to her hair, pulling her even closer to you as the kiss turns sloppy from the sheer desperation radiating from both of you.

Melissa’s hands grab at your hips harder as you tug at copper strands, cold fingers creeping under your shirt to rest against warm skin. The force of her body leaning further into you boggles the machine you’re pressed against making a loud buzzer sound and the automated voice yell just a quarter to play! The sudden noises make you both jump, breaking the kiss. Your eyes meet and you both stifle a laugh at the whole thing. Her lips immediately gravitate back to yours, this time softer. The smile you feel against your lips brings your own out, breaking the kiss again. You drop your head against her shoulder, basking in her presence and her hands on your skin.

“You knew,” is all you say, voice muffled against her shirt.

She smiles and rests her head against yours, “I did.”

“How long?”

“The whole time, give or take,” she’s a little surprised when your head pops up, almost smacking her chin.

Your eyes stare straight into hers, “and you said nothing?”

“You didn’t say shit either, don’t even start,” she says with a laugh, no malice hiding in her voice. Her only response is a grumble that sounds something like touché.

There’s so much love behind your eyes, it chokes her up. The way your eyes never left hers, something she missed in the last month, made her feel like the most precious stone. She looks at you for a moment longer before quietly asking, “can I kiss you again?”

The smallest smile crosses your lips as you answer in an equally quiet tone, “you can kiss me whenever you want, Schemmenti.”

feedback appreciated as always <3

note: again i’m sorry for not being active. i started school again and have been working full time while also being a full time student. i also had a death in the family that hit me very hard mentally and i had to take a step back as to not end up in the hospital. i’m going to try to be more active and take time to write more. thank u for being so patient. ilyvm

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #lgbtq #lgbtq fanfiction

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