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etherealising · 1 month

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chapter thirteen | the injury of finally knowing you

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: hard conversations are inevitable and that’s exactly the lesson carmy learns when he decides to finally be honest with you.

warning(s): unintentional slut shaming (lol) | ooc carmy | very minimally edited |

wc: 7.6k

The sound of the bathroom door opening did little to draw your attention as you sat on Carmy’s bed, eyes trained on the letter in your hand. You hadn’t meant to snoop or anything, as Carmy showered you stayed in the living room for a bit and tried to work more on the rough draft for your article but the inspiration just wasn’t there at the moment, so you ventured to his room to wait for your turn to shower.

You didn’t think you’d ever willingly read these letters again, so when Carmy asked if he could have them you had no problem allowing him to take them. But then you saw them sitting folded on his side table and you knew exactly what they were before you reached for them. As you waited for Carmy to finish you read them, you weren’t sure what compelled you to do so but you read each of them from start to finish even when you could feel the emotion clawing up your throat. The worst part of it all was that you couldn’t even remember when you penned each letter, they were dated but the emotions spilling from your words made you feel a bit ill. It was almost like a different person wrote these letters, of course, you still felt the hurt and anguish, but you were sure you’d always feel it.

“Shit,” your eyes moved to find Carmy making his way towards you, quickly gathering the letters on the bed before gently removing your grip from the one in your hand. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have left these out.

You watched him tuck them away then felt the caress of his thumb against your cheek, the motion soothed you even as he moved his thumb up to wipe a fallen tear. “Do you read them often?” You weren’t sure if you wanted to hear his answer, but you also didn’t want him beating himself up over something that was entirely out of his control.

Carmy’s thumb continued tracing back and forth against your cheek, eyes flicking between your own before his hand dropped, his eyes following soon after. “Too often…kinda like if I uh read them enough it’ll fix everything.”

Your heart clenched at his words a quiet sardonic laugh following behind them, “Sounds fucking stupid I know I just,” he stopped himself you could tell he was closing himself off, see in his face that he didn’t feel like what he needed to say mattered.

Carmy’s head turned at the slight sensation he felt ghosting across his hand. You gripped his hand in yours giving it a subtle squeeze before raising it to your lips and placing a kiss so soft and loving to his knuckles that you were sure he could feel the sensation of emotion seeping into his skin and burrowing into his bloodstream.

Watching as he allowed you to comfort him in your way, your free hand reached out to comb the stray pieces of hair out of his eyes. Your thumb ghosted across his temple before tracing a path down his cheek and landing at his jaw, raising his chin so he was forced to look at you.

“Carmy, I wanna hear what you have to say. I always want to hear what you have to say. Do you understand me?” Your voice was quiet yet demanding, you hoped to convey just how serious you were, you would listen to the man in front of you read his grocery list morning, noon, and night if necessary.

You gave him a small encouraging smile as you looked at him. You watched as his eyes strayed to your lips eyeing them for longer than what seemed appropriate considering neither of you was sure what this relationship was, if the context of this conversation was any different you would’ve already captured his lips with your own. Instead, you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before leaning back, your hand still attached to his.

Silence settled over the two of you, you couldn’t force Carmy to talk but you hoped he felt safe enough to open up to you more than he already did. You just wanted to be there for him, to show him that through everything you were still in his corner.

“I read them and I…I just feel this intense guilt you know?” You listened as Carmy began speaking he looked away from you, his eyes locked on the wall opposite the two of you. “A-and I just feel angry, angry at myself. Because why the fuck didn’t I just ask you to stay with me, why didn’t I-I check on you.”

You sat next to Carmy silently, squeezing his hand every so often to let him know you were still there, still listening.

“Most times I just think about how alone you were, how fucking scared you must’ve been. A-and it makes me angry all over again because why the fuck would you do that to yourself?” Carmy’s glistening eyes met yours, questions swimming through his irises. “Shit, no I-I’m not blaming you, promise. But I just look at you and it’s like fuck she deserved so much better, deserves so much better but y-you just suffered alone because of me you know. You’ve always been the best of us Baby and just the idea of you all alone writing those fucking words while I was in some miserable fucking kitchen across the country fucking oblivious to it all I just…I.”

Carmy’s words trailed off, you watched his throat bob up and down like the words he tried to get out lodged themselves there fighting to never be spoken. You tried not to cry, you didn’t want Carmy to think he needed to comfort you in this moment, but it was all for naught as the tears streamed down his face, silent sobs wracked his body as he held his head in his hands. Your interconnected hands pressed desperately to his lips catching every tear.

“Bear, hey look at me,” you spoke softly hoping to lure his attention. There were a few moments of waiting until Carmy’s head slowly lifted, eyes quickly tracking the tear stains on your cheeks, you didn’t give him the chance to wipe them away as you removed your hand from his to grip his face. His stubble was scratchy underneath your touch but you gently dabbed away any leftover tears. “There you are.” It was quiet, a whispered breath that made Carmy’s heart race.

“It's cliche, but they really mean that shit when they say you can’t change the past.” You gave a small grin at the huff of air Carmy loosed through his nose. “It hurts Carmy, god does it hurt. But neither of us will be able to move forward if we keep letting our past mistakes and regrets live in the present with us. There’s a lot of shit I wish you would’ve done differently, things I wish I did differently, and now that we have the chance to do things differently I mean…I don’t wanna waste it. I don’t wanna waste another 10 years without you in my life, Carmy.” You paused, stopping yourself from what you wanted to say but knowing that if this was real if you and Carmy were going through with this the opportunity would present itself.

“I don’t want you to pretend what we experienced wasn’t harrowing and trust me some days it’ll hit harder than others. But if I deserve better then so do you Carm, I…I want us to be happy in whatever way makes you most comfortable. Just please Carmy…don’t push me out of your life again, I’m not sure if there’ll ever be a next time for us after this.”

Carmy’s face was still held delicately between your hands, you offered him your best reassuring smile as silence settled over the two of you. You wished you knew what was going on in Carmy’s head, you were nervous to be too blatantly open with your feelings for him scared it would shut him down.

“How long?” Your brows furrowed at Carmy’s question, a plea for him to explain himself. “If I wanted happiness i-in the same way you did, how much longer would you wait?” It made sense now what he was asking, a small sad smile made its way to your lips as you drank in every bit of emotion that ran across his face the longer you stayed quiet.

You searched his eyes for any sense of hesitation but found none, “I’m a patient woman, Carm, but I won’t wait forever.” Sometimes the truth hurts but it was better to be honest and get everything out on the table now since the two of you were being vulnerable.

Carmy nodded expecting nothing less, if he were being honest with himself he didn’t even think he still deserved your time but he sure as hell was still happy to have it. And this time he wouldn’t allow himself to get in his way, his hands came up gently cupping yours before turning his face from left to right and allowing his lips to sink into the palm of your hands.

He watched as your eyes sparkled before he moved to grip your face, tilting your head down just right to place a kiss on your forehead. A kiss full of love and promises.

A kiss that said you wouldn’t be waiting long.

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, a small smile peeking through at the sight of yourself in the matching pajama set Carmy bought you. A small laugh left your lips as you thought about him shopping for you all alone, how many different sets he must’ve looked through, how undecided he must’ve looked while shopping for you.

He’d done a great job though as far as you could tell, there wasn’t any way he could go wrong. You quickly stepped into the matching fuzzy socks that came with the set before turning to exit the bathroom making sure to grab your work clothes so you could wash them.

Exiting the bathroom you found Carmy sitting up in bed with a journal in his hand, the scene reminded you of that Christmas years ago, although this time you were almost positive you wouldn’t wake up alone. You smiled at Carmy as his eyes found yours before leaving to exit the room and start your laundry.

Looking around the living room a feeling of worry began to sink into you as you couldn’t seem to find your laptop or any of the documents you’d spread on Carmy's coffee table earlier that night. You checked around to make sure you hadn’t overlooked it before making your way back to Carmy.

“Carm, have you seen my laptop?” Your voice trailed off as you watched him lift the device off of his side table, your documents neatly stacked on top of it.

You carefully grabbed your belongings halting as you weren’t sure if Carmy wanted to be bothered by your presence as he did his respective work. You took one last look around the room before deciding it might be best if you just returned to working in the living room, knowing how frustrated you could get at times when writing.

“Sit down Baby.” You stopped mid-step to look at Carmy whose eyes were still glued to the journal in his hand. His eyes flashed up to you as you stayed planted in your spot, his eyebrows raised as if to ask why you hadn’t joined him yet.

It was hard but you hid the giddy smile on your face as best as you could, something about just being in Carmy’s presence in such a domestic context made you feel all warm inside like maybe someday this wouldn’t just be a one-time thing. Maybe this would be your life.

You settled in next to him taking a quick peek at his journal before averting your eyes. You were curious as to what he was writing in there, but that wasn’t exactly your business, it didn't mean you couldn’t ask questions though. “Working on the menu?” You tried to sound nonchalant like you were just making small talk as you waited for your laptop to power on, hands mindlessly shuffling through the loose papers not reading a single word on them.

“Somethin’ like that.” Carmy’s voice was quiet as he quickly finished his last thought on the page before closing said journal and storing it away. “Working on your article?”

You let out a quiet scoff at his non-answer, a quiet laugh following at his curiosities being thrown your way. “Something like that.”

Carmy’s laugh rang through the otherwise quiet room, the timber of it warmed your belly. He quieted down after a moment, you could see a frown forming on his face out of the corner of your eye. “I uh…never apologized for punching your boyfriend b-but I’m not sorry for punching him, I’m sorry that it probably made things at work weird for you.”

Your head turned in Carmy’s direction so fast you were sure it gave you whiplash. This man could not read a room to save his fucking life, you’d basically told him moments ago you were his when he was ready to take that next step and here he was bringing up fucking Hayden. You’d give your kidney to spend a day inside that man's head.

“Let me get this straight Carmen, you think I was dating a man who told me to my face, surrounded by loved ones that I didn’t try hard enough to kill myself?” You could see the realization dawn on him as he let your words sink in, embarrassment clear on his face as he realized his mistake.

Carmy’s arm moved up to scratch at the back of his neck, “Well no, but he said-.”

“And you believed him?” You didn’t need to hear any more of Carmy’s sentence to know that whatever Hayden told him was done with malicious intent. You tried not to be upset with Carmy in that moment seeing as how you hadn’t let him explain his side, but a part of you couldn’t help but feel judged.

“Shit no,” you could hear the panic in his voice as he reached to move your laptop and papers, hands quickly falling to your waist to turn you to face him. “No, no I…fuck. I just didn’t know how to bring it up to you and now I’ve just fucked it.”

The frown on your face deepened as you watched the panic race through him, “You could just ask me Carmy instead of accusing me of things. I don’t mind that you're curious but is that what you think of me that I’ve had relations with every man I know? You gonna accuse me of fucking Richie next?”

“Baby,” the words escaped Carmy in a sigh, he hadn’t meant to offend you but the longer he thought about it he realized how much of a repeat offender he was when it came to backing you into a corner like this. First the prom accusation, then the Christmas accusation, and now this. “I’m sorry… it's just you have so much experience a-and-“

“Carmen!” Your eyes shot wide at his words, if he was hoping to assuage your feelings he sure was doing a shit job at it. “Do you even think before you speak?”

Carmy wanted the world to swallow him whole in that moment, he’d never been a master of words but he was shooting himself in the foot more often than not in this conversation.

“You just indirectly called me a slut Carmen. Which by the way if I was it's nobody’s business but mine.” You removed Carmy’s hands from where they had settled on your waist, peeved by the whole conversation.

Carmy’s hand moved up to run through his hair, he knew deep down why these conversations kept coming up between the two of you and it wasn’t because he thought any less of you because of your sexual history. But every time he thought he could have an honest conversation with you about this it just turned into him self-sabotaging in hopes that you’d do the mental work and figure it out, but that wasn’t your job and he knew that he just tended to ruin any good in his life before it had the chance to become great.

The two of you sat in silence as you allowed Carmy to gather his thoughts; the indignation sat heavy in your chest. You weren’t ashamed of any casual relationships you’d had in the past, and you wouldn’t allow whatever Carmy had going on to force you to feel guilty about living your life. Whatever adventures you’d partaken in prior to this was exactly that, before Carmy.

“I-I don’t think any less of you for whatever past relationships you’ve had. And I don’t care…at least not in the way you think I do it's just,” he paused, gathering whatever courage he had to get the rest of his words out. “There’s just this…this need for me to be the best at everything, a-and I’ve been fucking things up with us for so long that I think you know what if I finally let this happen and there’s just someone better for you.”

A sense of understanding washed over you, and while you didn’t want to invalidate Carmy’s feelings he still needed to know the effect of his words. “Carm, it's okay to feel insecure. But you can’t expect me to know these things if you don’t talk about your feelings with me.” Your eyes darted across his face making sure you hadn’t lost him. “This doesn’t work if neither of us communicate, the next time you’re curious just ask me Carmy. And please if anything like that ever happens again check with me instead of letting things fester.”

Carmy nodded his head rapidly, thankful that his most recent blunder hadn’t caused too much of a rift. He knew he could confide in you about anything but he just felt a bit apprehensive confiding in you about his feelings for you. His hand reached out to play with the ruffled bit of your sock allowing himself time to come to terms with the fact that he’d have to work on opening up even more to you if there was any chance of a romantic relationship.

“You know for a long time I uh, I envied you.” You were surprised by Carmy’s admission watching him closely as he continued fiddling with your sock. “It’s fuckin’ stupid really, but I uh think it started when Mikey let you work at the shop and your relationship with him just drove me fuckin’ crazy sometimes.”

He let out a quiet huff of laughter before finally looking up at you hoping you wouldn’t hold his past indiscretions against him. “I would just watch the two of you sometimes and wonder why the fuck the two of you acted more like siblings than he and I did. But I uh, I think what really pushed it over the edge was the summer you left.”

You sat there listening intently, nervousness building in your chest as Carmy divulged feelings of his you had never been privy to until now.

“I fucked up big time I-I knew that, but at the time it just pissed me off. It was stupid but I just expected you to get over everything the…the kiss and then seeing me with Claire, I was a fucking idiot. And you just started spending even more time with Mikey and it was like the two of us hadn’t been best friends for almost our whole lives.” Carmy shook his head realizing how immature all of this sounded even to his ears. “And then you just fucking left us…left me and I know you had to, but I was an idiot teenager and at that time it just felt like you’d given up on me.”

Your quiet sniffles drew his eyes from their burning gaze trained on your forehead, watching as your lips rapidly trembled.

“I called you every day for a year, Carmy.” The tears began to fall, your voice cracking along with it as you defended yourself for a hurt you hadn’t even realized you caused.

Carmy’s heart ached as he watched you, his hands surging forward to grip your face, “Shh, I know Baby please don’t cry. Please, I just want to be honest with you.” His hands moved to gently wipe your face as you nodded two small kisses landing on the apples of your cheeks before he moved back to make sure you were okay, his hands leaving your face to hold your hands in his.

“It was like I fell into this mindset once I decided to leave for culinary school, I felt like none of you fucking believed in me, but I believed in me and I was just like fuck you watch this…a-and I just lumped you in there. I just threw myself into and I was so caught up in my shit it wasn’t until Sug sent me your article about the James Beard award that I realized I was the one who gave up on you…on us. By then I felt like it was too late, like too much time had passed and it wasn’t fair for me to expect space in your life anymore.

Silence settled over the room, your heart felt like it was ready to beat out of your chest. The idea that Carmy threw away your friendship because of envy hurt you to your core, and as much as you wanted to excuse his actions just because you were teenagers you wouldn’t; not this time. Carmy made it abundantly clear he knew he’d made all the wrong choices and you weren’t going to sit here and lick his wounds or pretend it was all okay because none of it was. For years he acted as though you didn’t exist as if he’d never met you, made you feel like you had done something catastrophically disgusting for him to ghost you in the way he did.

“I thought I did something to make you hate me ” You hiccuped as you spoke trying to rein in the tears, you looked back and forth between Carmy’s eyes scared to find even a sliver of hate floating around in them.

Carmy’s heart broke as he listened to those words leave your mouth, he hadn’t meant for this night to take the turn that it did but he felt the two of you were in a good place and that you deserved to know the truth. He wanted to be honest with you, in the hopes that by clearing the air between the two of you the both of you could continue to move forward, preferably by building a future together.

“Hey, hey look at me please.” Worry raced through him, he was sure this was the moment when everything fell apart for the two of you. The two of you had already come back from a lot, he just wasn’t sure your relationship could come back for the immaturity that caused all the unnecessary hurt in the first place. Carmy wasn’t sure he could watch you any longer, since you’d been back in Chicago it felt like every meeting between the two of you ended with you in tears and he was always to blame.

You wouldn’t look at him, your face buried in your hands. But what more could he expect you’d spent all these years beating yourself up for something that wasn’t even your fault, all these years wondering why you’d lost your best friend with no sign of answers insight. Carmy raised to his knees hesitant but deciding to wrap his arms around you, pulling your head into his chest hoping to offer you some sense of comfort.

He pulled you into him as tight as he could wanting to remember what it felt like to hold you in case this was the last time he’d ever be blessed with your presence.

Carmy didn’t need to open his eyes to know that you were gone, the lack of warmth next to him and the foreboding feeling told him everything he needed to know. He sat up in bed looking at the space you slept in, the covers wrinkled from where you tossed and turned, a part of him was sure the sheets had lost the warmth of your body hours ago.

His eyes flitted around the room hoping to find some piece of you still there but he came up empty. He raised his hand swiping it across his mouth as he recalled the conversation from last night, he thought he was doing the right thing by opening up to you, being honest but as he sat there in his quiet empty apartment he wasn’t sure if his vulnerability had the opposite affect and reopened wounds you were trying to keep closed.

There was nothing he could do now, the truth was out in the open between you, and all he could hope for was that you’d forgive him. Reaching for his phone he scrolled through the few notifications hoping to see your name, but coming up short as he finished looking through them all. He quickly pulled up your contact pressing the call button before raising the phone to his ear and listening as it rang before he was sent to voicemail.

Carmy didn’t want to make a big deal out of you leaving and if you asked him for space he would give it to you, but to do that he needed to know you were safe, and the chances of him finding that out lessened each time you didn’t pick up the phone and the messages he sent stayed on delivered. After the fifth call, he moved from his bedroom to the living room hoping the reason you weren’t answering was because you left your phone behind.

But every trace of you was gone and as much as Carmy tried not to overthink the current situation at hand, he couldn’t help the rising anxiety within him, his hand moving to massage his chest the heaviness in it causing discomfort.

Carmy’s eyes found the Polaroid of the two of you still on the counter where you placed it. He reached out, picking it up and bringing it to his eye line, his finger darted out to trace the smile on your face. Every time he glanced at this photo his eyes would always stray to you, more importantly, the look on your face.

He thought back to the moment this photo was taken, displaying one of the happier moments in his life, and it wasn’t because of the sex, the whispered promises, or the shared kisses. It was the fact that when he looked at this picture it reminded him of the moment he realized he was willing to commit to you, the moment he realized he shouldn’t have ran at hearing your admission through the door. He remembered working his whole shift half his mind focused on the tasks at hand, the other part trying to figure out the words he would say to you upon returning home. But you were gone, and deep down he knew you would be you made it clear your time together had an expiration date, but he still held out hope and then he returned to an empty apartment with this Polaroid and his chain all to welcome him home. He hid it away not being able to stomach what he’d lost, until he found it while unpacking when he moved back to Chicago deciding it was an image he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life.

He placed the picture back in its spot above the stove before moving to grab his phone and quickly calling Sug hoping she might have heard from you. Maybe you called her and vented about the previous night, or maybe you were at her house now. He paced back and forth as he waited for his sister to pick up, he felt guilty that Sug always got dragged into this mess between the two of you but he just needed to know you were safe somewhere.

“Is Baby with you?” The words were out of his mouth as soon as he heard the line connect.

“Good morning Carm, I’m doing great. My feet are a bit swollen but other than that it’s been a nice morning.”

Carmy let out a huff of frustration, “Shit, sorry about your feet Sug,” he listened to her mock laugh through the phone. “Is Baby with you, or have you heard from her?”

He waited with bated breath hoping Sug could assuage his worry, “I haven’t spoken to her since last night, I thought she was with you.”

“Uh yeah, yeah she was,” Carmy wasn’t surprised that Sug knew you’d been at his house, it’s probably how you’d gotten his address. “But I think I really fucked up this time Sug.”

“Carm,” the tiredness was evident in Sug’s voice and he felt even worse continuously adding stress on her plate.

“I know Sug I’m sorry I just…I said some things and she was just gone when I woke up. A-and I’ll give her space if she needs it but I just…I’m worried you know what if she…she,” Carmy couldn’t finish his sentence not wanting to speak the idea into existence.

The line went quiet and he wasn’t sure if Sug understood what he was trying to reference or if she was lost in the web of memories. “I’ll check with Cortez, just call me if you get in touch with her before I do. Please Carmy.”

Camry didn’t know who the fuck Cortez was but he appreciated all the help Sug was offering. He agreed to let her know if he heard from you before ending the call. He tossed his phone onto the counter, his hands running through his hair as he tried not to stress over the situation any more than he already was, bending over he placed his elbows on the cold countertop before placing his head in his hands, he was sure he could feel an ulcer developing at all the stress the two of you caused each other.

His head shot up at the sound of the front door unlocking, the last thing he needed was someone trying to rob him at eight in the fucking morning. Carmy watched from his position in the kitchen, surprised to see your body trying to sneak back into the apartment wearing your clothes from the previous day. He was silent as you quietly closed the door before locking it and turning to face him.

The surprise on your face was evident as the two of you stared at each other waiting for someone to speak first. It was you who broke the silence, raising the bag and cup holder in your hand as you spoke, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you but I bought us breakfast.”

Carmy frowned at how casual you were acting as though he hadn’t spent most of his time awake freaking out over your disappearance, though it's not like you knew that. “You…you can’t just fucking do shit like that Baby.”

The distress was clear in his voice and he watched as you frowned confusion decorating your features “I can’t…buy you breakfast?” If Carmy wasn’t so stressed out by you at that moment he would’ve found it cute the way innocence flashed across your face at the question, he was seconds away from giving in from that look alone.

“What? No, you can’t just…just fucking disappear like that. I woke up and you were just gone and y-you didn’t leave a note or anything…I was worried about you.” Carmy finished his train of thought before it turned into nonsensical rambling, his eyes finding yours across the room as he watched the understanding wash over your face.

You nodded, Carmy followed your movement as you made your way to the kitchen placing down the objects in your hands before lifting yourself onto the counter opposite of him. The two of you stared at each other, Carmy moved to cross his arms across his chest hoping the longer he’d stay silent you’d give in and explain your little vanishing act to him. He wasn’t mad, far from it but he didn’t know how to tell you that this reminded him all too much of you disappearing in New York.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, Carm. I just needed some time to think about everything you told me last night.” His eyes stayed connected to yours as he nodded in understanding, you came back so he felt it was safe to assume the heavens made sure he hadn’t lost you yet. “I’m not sure if I can forgive you Carmy those years for me…they were miserable. I felt all alone in a new place and it wasn’t just me, your actions hurt. My mom was dying Carmen and she asked about you so much…she loved you like you were her own Carm.”

“I don’t think you meant to hurt anyone,” Carmy’s eyes watched your mouth form a disbelieving laugh. “But the fact is you did, and I know you’re sorry Carm, I see it in your face every time you apologize, every time you look at me. And what’s stopping you from doing something like that again? You’re flighty Carm, what if we finally decide to do this…to take that next step and you feel overwhelmed, like it's all too much what then? Do you just ghost me again in hopes that it hurts me enough to finally give up on us or do you stay and do the hard work?”

Your response was valid and Carmen knew that, so he didn’t even take the chance to try and defend himself. He hadn’t thought about the consequences his actions might bring and didn't even give a second thought to how selfish he was being when he cut you off cold turkey. And he loathed to admit it but through all the time apart you still knew him better than anyone else.

“I…I don’t know if I can continue wanting this for the both of us Carmy.” Carmy’s eyes followed your hand that stretched out between the two of you, your fingers wiggling to urge him to go to you, his feet leading him easily.

Carmy found his way to you watching as you entwined your fingers with his, his free hand coming to rest on your hip as he looked up at you seated on his counter from his position between your legs.

“I don’t deserve to spend the rest of my life walking on eggshells around you Carm scared that you’ll drop me at a moment's notice,” Carmy didn’t want to hear the rest of what you had to say but he stayed put, allowing your free hand to ghost across his cheek until you gently cupped it his face relaxing into your palm. “And you don’t deserve being pressured into a relationship you’re not ready for, it’s not fair to either of us.”

The words felt like they burrowed into his heart, growing roots and staying there for all of eternity. He leaned in resting his forehead against your eyes closing so he could pretend this moment wasn’t happening and instead the two of you were just enjoying each other’s presence.

“Baby,” the words were a plea as they left his lips hoping that somehow the two of you could salvage this.

His eyes opened as your thumb gently rubbed across his cheek watching you as you watched him. “It's toxic Carm, we’re toxic.”

Your breath ghosted across his lips and he savored the feeling sending a tender squeeze to your hip before he gently pulled you to the edge of the counter, his nose bumping into yours, lips precariously close to brushing against yours as he began speaking, basically transferring the words from his mouth to yours. “We can work on it.”

His nose nudged against yours waiting for you to stop him before things went too far. His eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes before dropping back to your mouth analyzing the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. Carmy’s hand left your hip, his thumb gently tugging at your lip ghosting across the plumpness of it, he cradled your jaw, his nose nuzzling against yours just right to have your bottom lips brush against each other.

The two of you sat in that position for a moment, Carmy wouldn’t make this decision for you not if you didn’t want him to. But as your hand moved from his cheek to the side of his neck he felt his heart begin to race as he would finally get the chance to taste you after so long apart.

Your body jolted against Carmy’s, your lips landing against the corner of his mouth as the phone in your pocket vibrated. Carmy wasn’t sure if the disappointed sigh was yours or his, his hand fell from your jaw moving around your hip on the counter to retrieve the phone from your back pocket. Both of you knew the contact was unnecessary but the quiet gasp you let out was proof enough that neither of you cared.

“Who is it?” Carmy relished in the way your lips brushed against his as you spoke, the two of you still poised in the position for a kiss.

He looked down at your phone doing his best not to show a visceral reaction at the name on the screen. He carefully turned it in your direction watching as your eyes widened before taking the phone from his grip. He let out a sigh of remorse as you pushed off of him, sending an awkward smile his way.

“Sorry, I need to take this.” Carmy nodded, reluctantly stepping from his position between your legs, his hand raised to the back of his neck as he wasn’t sure what to do with himself before deciding to occupy himself with the breakfast you bought.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as you stayed in your position on the counter and answered the phone. He didn’t intend on eavesdropping but considering he was still in close proximity he could hear the voice coming through the other line.

“Cortez, what’s u-”

“Do you like stressin’ people the fuck out ma?” Carmy tuned out the conversation as soon as he heard the gruff voice deciding to instead occupy himself with the breakfast you bought.

Carmy’s head turned in your direction when he realized you’d been trying for some time to gain his attention, he gave you a small half-smile wanting nothing more than to hold you as the two of you figured things out. Instead, he held a bagel out to you as a peace offering, “Breakfast?”

He watched you nod before coming to join him, the two of you standing in silence as you put the spread on your bagels. Breakfast was spent in silence with the quiet dialogue of the TV in the background, the scene of you two on opposite sides of the couch a mirror image of the previous night's dinner, that same tension-filled air hanging between the two of you.

Carmy didn’t argue when you decided to head home after finishing, the two of you silently worked around each other to clean up the trash from breakfast. And he forced himself not to bring up his worries about the future status of your relationship as he led you to the door.

“Drive safe yeah?” Carmy stood in front of his door frame trying not to be as awkward as he felt.

He watched your lips spread into a small smile, he wasn’t the only one seemingly fighting off the awkwardness. “I’ll text you when I get home…thank you for letting me stay, and for the food and the clothes.” Your words ended on a quiet laugh the sound bringing a smile to Carmy’s face.

The two of you stood there for a moment longer awkward silence lingering in the air, you began rocking back and forth on your heels Carmy unsure of what to say. “I guess it’s time I make like a banana and split.”

Carmy tried to hide his smile at your stupid joke, his hand reached out to grip the back of your head pulling you into his chest. “I forgot how fuckin’ lame you could be.” He smiled as he felt you laugh in his arms his lips pressing into your temple as he allowed to push off of him, his hand still cupping the back of your head.

“You missed out on 10 years of lameness Carm, gotta start makin’ up for it at some point.” Carmy let his smile grow at that point. You’d made it clear to him that you wouldn’t forgive what led to the downfall of your relationship.

But as the two of you smiled at each other he took this moment as an olive branch, whether you meant for it to be or not he would take what he could get. He allowed you to pull him back in both of his arms wrapping around you his body relaxing into yours as your warm lips met the skin over his Adam’s apple before moving to place one final kiss on his jaw.

He let you step out of his hold hoping you wouldn’t mention the dusting of pink that he could feel spreading across his cheeks. You stepped back Carmy’s hand that was once on the back of your head traced down the side of your neck, then your shoulder, and arm before finally entwining your hand with his.

“Before I forget do you know when you’ll be free in the next week, I kinda need to interview you for this article I’m writing.” Carmy gave a small smile at your antics.

His free hand moved to scratch the back of his head trying to gather all the courage he could, “I uh still have a couple hours before I head to the restaurant if you wanted…to interview me now.” The smile left his face as he watched your smile fall.

“Oh, I’m sorry Carm I actually have somewhere to be, but thank you for offering.” He nodded trying not to let the disappointment show on his face.

The two of you exchanged goodbyes before Carmy stepped back into his apartment realizing what an idiot he was for not walking you to your car and also thinking you’d just drop everything and spend more time with him under the pretense of conducting an interview. Deciding to make himself useful Carmy headed into his room figuring he might as well head to the restaurant since he had nothing but time.

Carmy was in the middle of buttoning his jeans when the sound of incessant knocking spread through his apartment, part of him was resigned to just let whoever it was knock it wasn’t like he really knew anyone in the building. But the longer the knocking went on he decided to just figure out who the hell was bothering him.

Making it to his living room he swung the door open ready to tell the person off but stopping in his tracks as your figure stood there surprise easily written all over his face.

“Hi, Carmen Berzatto right?” His eyes narrowed confused at the game you were playing, eyes darting to your hand hanging between the two of you before it raised to the notepad he hadn’t realized you were holding and began writing in as you spoke. “Impolite and shorter in person. Sorry, I’m with the Tribune I was wondering if you had time for an interview.”

Carmy rolled his eyes laughing at your antics, “You’re a fuckin’ dork.” He moved out of the way and opened the door wider signaling for you to come in, locking the door he turned and watched as you began taking your jacket and shoes off.

He was sure he had never seen a more perfect image, than the vision of you in his apartment at that moment. Your selflessness was never more apparent to Carmy than in that moment, he could almost physically feel his love for you growing as he realized time and time again you would fight for this relationship.

baby: ayye yo this shit actually kinda toxic

carmy: ohh no maybe if we make out that’ll fix it??

a/n: anyway i know this may feel like we’re going backwards but i promise you the barby ship will be sailing sooner than you know it! please enjoy! 🤍

likes are great, but comments and reblogs really are the lifeblood of fic writing. if you love this fic please consider sharing 🫶🏽

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy the bear x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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formulafootball66 · 1 year

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delicate - neymar jr

a/n: oh god, this one contains smut, i’ve never written smut before so, watch out i guess! ps! i snuck in some taylor swift references, from her song delicate pairing: neymar jr x reader warning: language, smut, slight angst (fighting) wordcount: 3000 summary: fake dating with neymar changes into something more

“Come on, we have to be at the event at 8. Are you almost ready, anjo?” Neymar asked, waiting impatiently for you. He stood in the bedroom of the hotel room, which was attached to the bathroom you were in. You two shared a room for once purpose – being seen arriving and leaving together. You were currently getting ready for yet another celebrity party. He was your date, as always, even though you weren’t really dating.

The reason why you were intertwined in this fake relationship, is that you’re just here to make him look good. It was for your own profit too. Over the years, Neymar has built quite the playboy status. This status, the almost slutty one, made brands not wanting deals with him and gave him a bad reputation. You were the internets good girl, the golden girl. The angel. The sweetheart. You never had been caught in any affair, never had an awful break up and had never had a cheating scandal.

Both of your managers got together and decided it would be good for both of you. He would be able to save his reputation, you gained fame. It felt unreal, now thinking about the moment.

It was 8 months ago, you were just got ready to start your day. Today was not going to be a productive day, you were just going out with your friends. Then you got a call from your manager, asking you to come to the office as soon as possible.

You arrived and when you walked in you saw him immediately. The number one heartthrob of the world. The guy who had a new girl every week. Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior. You looked around you confused. What was he doing here?

“What’s going on?” you asked, looking at your manager. Miss Delara has been here for since the take off of your career. From the first movie to the most recent one. She has grown to be your rock.

“Y/N, please sit down.” A guy, probably Neymar’s manager, said. You do what he asked, but shot him an irritated glance. What was going on? You look at Neymar and give him a nod, not really knowing how to greet him. You have only met him twice and both those interaction were short and just polite. He ignores you, that asshole.

“So Y/N, Neymar, you’re probably wondering why you are here.” His manager said. “Well, that’s because of me. I asked Miss Delara for a favor and she thought it was a good idea.”

You felt clueless, how does this explain anything?

“Cause Neymar, you can’t keep acting like this. Adidas is about the stop your contract with them. You have been getting so much hate on social media and parents don’t want you walking with their kids down the field anymore. I never thought you would let it come that far.” He said following up his earlier statement.

“Eu não me importo (I don’t care)! I’m just living my life and why the fuck is she here?” he all of sudden snapped. Jeez. This guy really had some issues.

“No Neymar, you’ve let it come to far like I said. We need to change your media presence. I want a positive, happy and loving Neymar in my twitter feed. I don’t want to see another article about you leaving a club with 5 girls.”

Neymar is clearly upset and about to go of about this shit.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but what am I doing here?” You asked carefully. You just felt like you didn’t belong in this conversation.

“Y/N, you have a perfect reputation, right?” He asked and you nodded not really knowing what to do. “You might be able to save his. Miss Delara and I had this idea, where you just go out for a while, go in public, let the paparazzi take photos of you. Let Neymar build this perfect boyfriend reputation, let you gain fame from all of this-“

“No fucking way,’ Neymar said, cutting his own manager off. “No fucking way,” he said once more.

“Please Neymar, you’ll gain so much from this. You’ll gain the old love and affection back. On the pitch, off the pitch. Just think about those days.”

This clearly made Neymar rethink it, the three of you could clearly see that he relived those glorious memories again. But how did you feel about it? You just felt confused. Sure, gaining more fame from dating him would be nice. But staying around him all the time? You’d rather not.

“Do you both agree?” Miss Delara said, but she was mainly looking at you. She really knew you. She noticed the way you were more quiet than usual.

“I do agree. My reputation never been worse, so.” He said, clearly having his mind made up already.

Now all their eyes were on you. “Well I’d rather not date him, even if it was fake.” You said. Had you really just said that in front of him? But then again, it was kind of his own fault for acting like a douchebag.

“So much for being the sweet golden girl, huh? Is it all an act? You’re not an angel at all, are you?” He said seductively, implying something you don’t want to think about. You felt your cheeks getting hot.

“That’s enough. Y/N, you need this. You’re new movie just came out and extra promotion is always welcome. You have to agree.

So you did.

You finished your makeup, realizing you had been lost in your memories for a minute. You almost couldn’t believe why you almost said no to this deal. He treats you well, is respectful and occasionally buys you gifts. He is good to you, even when you are in private.

“Damn, I’ve never seen that color blue. Looks good on you.” He says in admiration. His eyes scanning over your body, which looks great in the light blue dress. The lower neckline shows your chest off nicely, but was still classy. The slit went all the way up your leg and made your legs look longer then they are. You looked stunning.

He clearly agreed, he thought you look so pure, so perfect and most of all so delicate. It was the perfect way to describe you. Delicate. Like a flower. Just so beautiful and he was afraid to shatter it. He almost zoned out thinking about you, but he made himself snap out if of it.

“We should just stay here, querida, I don’t want to share.” He suggested.

You let out a slight chuckle. “Let’s keep it professional, shall we?”

“Well, we should.”

You look at him confused. What does he mean with ‘should’? You decided to ignore him and grab his hand. “Let’s just go to the party,” you tell him.

“No staying here then?”

You gave him a knowing look and shot you a defeated one back. “Fine, we’ll go.”

At the party, the both of you just fell into your usual routine. When you arrived you posed, when you stepped in the club you hold each other close, and a while later you do you your own thing. Then you reunite and dance with each other. While dancing, he whispered his usual sweet talk in your ear and due to the drinks you had you gave in. The look on his face was priceless when you said something not even remotely similar back.

The rest of the evening you hung out with your friends and soon the party came to an end. You got invited to the after party. You told your girlfriends you would let Neymar know you were going to the party and they were excited. You usually went straight home after the real party.

“Hey,” you said, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

“Ei bêbe, ready to go home?” he asked you. He put his glass back on the bar and already signed to the barman that he wanted to pay. He then pointed at you, signaling he was paying for you too.

“Actually, I’ve got invited to some kind of rooftop after party, the girls and I were planning on going. Are you okay with that? Or do you want to join?”

“Oh. You really want to go?” He said, his voice sounded mildly disappointed.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I have been out on a girls night.”

He tried to fake a smile, but failed miserably. “No, it’s okay! I just don’t feel like another party, so I’ll go home, alright? You stay safe, meu vida.”

“I’ll see you at our room again. Drive save!” You walked of happily, pleased with knowing he was okay with it. You were happy that you finally went out with your girls.

What you didn’t notice was Neymar’s sadden stare following you all the way out of the door.

It was about three in the morning, you were exhausted, but happy to be back in your room. It was a good party. Good people, good music and overall good vibes. You had a great night.

“Ney, I’m back!” you yelled, not caring that there are probably people sleeping in this building. When you didn’t get a response, you were confused. “Ney?” you tried again, no response. Shit, he was probably asleep. You walked over to bedroom hoping you’d find him there. You did.

He was laying on the bed, with his headphones on. Even though his eyes were closed, the expression his face portrayed looked almost angry, but you thought he maybe was deeply focused on his music. You went to sit on the end on the bed. You tap twice on his leg and he removes his headphones.

“You should turn down your volume, dumbass! I was yelling the other second and I got no response!” you fake scolded him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, not really making eye contact with you. You ignored him, you figured he was just mad about you ruining his song.

“You really missed out on this party, Ney! At some point, Riley got so drunk she was jumping from float to float in the pool! Then Ariel was flirting with the bartender and got us all free drinks-“

“Am I a fucking joke to you?” he interrupted, tone much harsher than usual.

You looked at him confused. “What the hell are you saying?” You felt yourself getting mad at him, how dare he raise his voice to you like that? Where was his respect?

“I asked, do you think it’s fucking funny to tell me you’re going out with your friends?” He asked again, clearly angrier too.

“I was out with my friends? What are you on about?”

“Stop acting dumb. We both know that was just an excuse of yours to grind down on this assholes dick!” He yelled, almost scaring you. You weren’t scared though, because you knew you were in the right. You’d never do anything like that, even in this fake relation. You knew how important it was to make this relation seem perfect, 24/7.

“What are you talking about?” You yelled back at him. He threw to you his phone and you saw Twitter opened. You clicked on the video and your friends. You also saw the guy dancing with your best friend, who you were according to Neymar grinding on, being a respectful distance away from you.

“Is this what you’re dramatic about?” You asked and raised an eyebrow. He looks at you like your some kind of ghost. “He’s touching you!”

“It was merely a touch Neymar! Our shoulders brushed once!”

“Yeah, and then he looked at you!” Now he was really pushing it. He was making such drama over a guy looking at you! What had gotten into him?

“If you make this big of a drama about some guy looking at me, you have a lot of issues, Ney. And if I did dance with somebody, why would you care? We’re only dating for our business life, for fucks sake!” There, you finally said it. Why was it bothering him so much?

Living in an illusion was fun, until you couldn’t see the difference between reality and fantasy anymore.

That’s how you felt right now.

“Because Y/N! Because it drives insane knowing other men look at you, because the idea of any other person touching you makes me crazy. I get so jealous. I don’t want to imagine someone else with what is mine. I am sick of only pretending your mine all the damn time. Acting like I don’t want that to be the truth. But what drives me the most mad of all of these things? That you still haven’t realized that I’m madly in love with you,” he let out, finally spoken his truth. The words that he had been holding back for months now.

“You love me?” was the only thing you were able to say, not knowing how to react. But you already knew what you wanted to say. When he said how he felt about you, all the puzzle pieces fell into place. So did the feeling you have been keeping to yourself for months now. The warm, homey feeling he bought you. The ultimate comfort you found in him, the way your heart fluttered when he smiled and the way he could give you everything by just being there for you.

“I do, Y/N. I’m sorry it took me a douchebag to realize that.” He said, finally looking in your eyes. You saw a glint of hope, but a lot of fear in his hazel eyes.

“Kiss me, please,” you simply said. You weren’t able to express any of your feelings right now. You felt overwhelmed by everything happening. He didn’t take long to realize what you said an scooted closer to you.

He cupped your jaw softly, looked at you with adoration and passion. His other hand in your hair, which was already messed up by a long night of going out. He pulls you closer and your you can feel his breath. He finally kisses you, but this time it was not one of your quick kisses, just for the photos. No, this time, he wanted to feel every part of you. He took his time, slowly pulling you on his lap.

You felt the kiss grow more heated as his tongue slid in your mouth. Your tongues found their own rhythms. His hand that was holding your jaw gently, moved to your ass and gave it a squeeze. Not expecting this actions, you let out a slight moan and accidentally grinded your hips on him. Earning a groan from him, you felt his dick under you grow harder.

He broke the kiss and let his forehead rest against your head. “Fuck baby, look what you’ve done.”

You looked down a saw a slight wet spot on his pants. “You want to fix that for me, anjo?”

You nodded and got off of his lap, getting on your knees in front of the bed. He kicked out his sweatpants and got rid of his boxers. You looked a little too long at his cock in full glory, it standing up proud and in full glory.

“Fuck, you look so pretty on your knees,” he managed to bring out. You couldn’t respond. “Aw, has my little innocent girl gone a little dumb?”

You nodded again, but now finally taking actions. You hands ran up and down his base and after a few strokes, you began giving him kitty licks all over. Giving more attention to his sensitive red tip, he was a groaning mess for you.

“Stop teasing. I want you. Take it like the good girl I know you are.” He grunted - wanting more from you then you were currently giving. Those words got him what he wanted; him calling you a good girl clearly affecting you. You did what he requested, you took him in your mouth. Not having that much experience, you couldn’t fit everything you wanted. So, you pumped what you couldn’t fit.

You’re still moving slow, holding that teasing pace. But after a bit of that he grew impatient. He needs to feel you, deeper and harder. Not only sucking him off for the sake of teasing him. He wanted you to make him cum, not make him wait. His hands gripped your hair harshly and he starts fucking your face. While he was doing this, he constantly told you how good you were doing.

This sudden movement from him, caused you to tear up. Gagging on his cock, which was deeper than ever before, you couldn’t the few tears rolling down your face. He kept his fast pace and after a minute or two he starts groaning loudly. This was the signal for you that he was almost coming undone. You put in a bit more effort and tried to suck him harder. You felt his cock twitch inside your mouth.

“Shit, anjo. Is it okay if I come in your mouth?” he asked for permission. You let out an agreeing mumble and nodded. A few seconds later he came with groans you’d swear the whole hotel had heard.

He drops himself on the bed. “You did so good for me.” He praised, making you blush. “Give me a minute and I’ll return the favor, alright?”

You laughed and knew it was going to be a long night.

In the morning you were exhausted, not getting a lot of sleep tonight. But you definitely didn’t regret anything. No, yesterday was a night you’ll never forget. The way he made scream, the way you get slightly wet thinking about it again. And now you were here, held closely by the chest of your boyfriend.

“Hey anjo. Good morning,” his groggy morning voice said. You smiled and said your good mornings back. When you saw him fading to sleep again, you nudged him. “Ney!”

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” you said softly.

“I know you told me a thousand time while you were having orgasm. During all three of them even.” He said, his subtilty clearly still asleep.

“Way to ruin the moment!”

“You still love me though, that’s all that matters.”

#neymar #neymar jr #neymar fanfic #neymar smut #neymar jr smut #neymar jr one shot #neymar x reader #neymar jr fluff #neymar jr angst #football fanfic #football imagine

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m1ssunderstanding · 1 month

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.2

The thing is Paul just physically can't say what he feels. It's just an impossibility for him. So if he says reading a negative article about himself “doesn't help” or “it's not good” but it “doesn't get home” I just assume he means ‘It hurts, but I can't think about that too hard or I'll go into a self-hate suicidal spiral again’.

I always love how Paul says Linda. “Linder is er, nature mad.”

She!!

Hearing Paul talk about watching Mary be born makes me wonder if John was there with Sean? Also I wonder if Linda would talk about the experience so glowingly. Probably. She's tough as nails. I had a lovely experience, personally, after the epidural lol

“Dear friend . . . I'm in love with a friend of mine.” This is such a strange and beautiful song. It's a man who has to apologize to his friend for falling in love with someone else. At least, that's my interpretation. What's everyone else's?

I understand why he's so closed off. I do. But when John is going off every five seconds, we're missing half the picture here and it's turning out warped. They really are such a good study of attachment honestly.

“Nothing will ever break the love we have for each other.” White-knuckling my way through this section with this quote clenched in my fist.

Yoko, talking about John fighting with Paul: any couple will go from swearing to kissing and it's like that. What favors are you doing yourself here, babe? Maybe John's the PR mastermind between the two of them.

I find John's comparison of working with his romantic partner to being ambidextrous very confusing. Does he mean just doing two things at once?

“If I can't have a fight with my best friend, I don't know who I can have a fight with.” -- Intro slutty gender-fluid Wings Paul my beloved -- “Tell me why, why, why do you treat me so bad? So bad? When you're the best friend a man ever had?” I heard on some podcast somewhere. Someone was going on about how forward-thinking the Beatles were to refer to the women in their songs as “friends”. And I was like, nununununu do not give them that credit.

This is just soooo. In this era? 90 minutes in the middle of a recording session?

John: Sorry, my estranged fiance is calling, gotta take a break. Guitarist: again? Drummer: how estranged can they be if they call every three minutes? Yoko: should we just record the other parts or . . . John: (receiver cradled to his cheek, lovesick grin on his face) Hey, how was Heather's school program? Haha, yeah, I bet she was.

Okay, so you've made up with Paul and now you're done being homophobic? *Cardi b voice* well that's suspicious.

The fact that John's asking Paul to play on stage with him in 1972?? Ugh! If it was just about legalities and money and shit I would be genuinely so pissed at Paul for not going. If only because Come Together sounds incredibly lame without his bass and piano. But also for the obvious fix-it reasons. I have to remind myself of how truly awful Klein was. By being the only one to stand firm against him, Paul actually ended up saving them all from a lot of trouble. But gosh would this have been good!

Things normal people say, for sure, for sure.

Okay in my head it went like this. John calls George and bitches about what an egomaniac Paul is because he won't do anything with him as long as Klein is involved. George gets off the phone and calls Ringo and they make a bet as to how long it is until John decides they should get rid of Klein.

“Where's your audience, Paul?” “In the theater, Dave.” As he should. The cuntiness is unparalleled. Yeah, maybe people like to see a family friendly eclectic magic pixie sexy hard rock floor show? Ever thought about that, Dave?

Anyway, he seems genuinely pissed when the interviewer even mentions the other Beatles and he refuses to even admit he still talks to any of them. Why?

John's just so benevolent and selfless. He's completely straight, of course, but he's always offering to do gay shit. You know. To be nice.

I forget that not only was May their literal employee, but she was ten years younger on top of that. And yet, she managed to do so much good in that relationship. I have so much respect for her.

There's obviously a lot going on behind the scenes that they don't say in interviews. Duh. But I wonder what it is that caused Paul to be so open and happy in this interview where he's asked about the other Beatles compared to before. I wonder if he and John had a really lovely talk, or if he's heard a demo of “I know, I know.” Or maybe it's just he's so reassured that they've got rid of Klein that he feels safe acting open to a reunion on record. Who knows, Yoko.

So so smart to pair “In My Life” handwritten lyrics with the matching lyrics of “I know I know” playing at the same time. I forget about that connection (“I love you more”) because it's so overshadowed by the “than yesterday” right after. I seriously wonder if John thought he was being so obvious with this one the way he was with HDYS and half hoped people would ask him if it was about Paul and he could make up for the whole thing. Because it's just so heavy-handed. It's beautiful. I love it. I'm sure Paul loved it. But yeah. John's just beating us over the head with the references here.

I also wonder (very tentatively!!!) if Paul was maybe a bit more emotionally vulnerable with John than we usually think. I would never think this except for the “you know I nearly broke down and cried” “I'm sorry that I made you cry” and “no more crying!” I don't know. What do we think?

His little baby smirk. It's so silly and cute. He's being very positive about getting back together, and the interviewer asks if John would initiate that. Just a very coy, “a, well, I couldn't say.” I wonder if at that point if he'd said on live tv that he wanted to get together again if it would've happened. Seems like it might have, but I understand him being scared.

Elton John taking pictures like a fan and John: I wanna impound all those photos till I get me green card. What a random idea for a commercial. I love it, obviously, it's hilarious. I wonder who thought of it.

This doc is so good at implication. The smirk as “loving in the palm of my hand” plays. That's not a reference to hand jobs, is it? Certainly not talking to someone with beautiful hands?

Everyone go look up Nineteen Hundred Eighty Five on YouTube. The singing sex is something else, yeah, but I'm always so blown away by the piano part. The fact that he's self taught and doesn't read music and this man will go on to compose symphonies.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #linda eastman #yoko ono #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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corollaservant · 3 days

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Retail Therapy // Dabi x f!reader x Shigaraki (18+)

Synopsis: Working as a sales assistant in a high end sneaker shop is boring. But you're about to be taught otherwise.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, heavy degradation, vaginal and oral sex, illegal recording, mentions of crimes, ableist remarks (not from reader), harassment, dumbification

A/N: idk how I thought of LOV as streamers (but not like gamers). Thank you to the anon from @corollaburner (my spam acc) who said yes when I asked if someone wants this (im in tears :.) Hope you like it!

Another boring day at work. But honestly, what were you expecting?

You didn’t know anyone who had fun working in retail. Not that this would be your job forever, as you planned on quitting and you know, try something else. Dropping out of college may have not been a smart move but you were confident that you’d find your path, somewhere, sometime. The store was never busy, the pricing and interior design repelling most passers-by and only attracting a couple influencer kids (you often laughed at the term) accompanied by their rich parents or a few unknown athletes in an effort to buy designer and make a better name for themselves. High end clients never showed up in person, they had no reason to, no one shopped at boutiques anymore, all the more sneaker ones.

You would often kill time by watching stuff online (who didn’t), looking at the latest socialite news in various media outlets, the world was going downhill, you thought, as you absentmindedly sipped from your water bottle, articles writing about villains, social pariahs, as they’d branded them, parading power by killing innocent civilians ‘for the fun of it’.

Your thoughts were interrupted when two shadows at the door caused you to look up. Customers? No way. Your heart stopped for a second thinking to yourself what kind of a twisted game of fate this was, as both walked through the door. Who didn’t fucking know them, Dabi and his subordinate, the man he had on a leash even though he was the supposed boss, Shigaraki Tomura. What the fuck where they doing here?

The taller man, which you knew was Dabi, wore a dark blue jacket with its collars ripped and matching pants that cut off above his ankles while his patched purple skin stood out, as surgically attached staples (or where these piercings?) moved when he smiled. Despite the menacing appearance, you had to admit he looked quite.. elegant? His shorter companion didn't fail to catch your eye either, a hood pulled low over his face wearing a miserable plain outfit. Under other circumstances, you’d throw pathetic guys like them in a second out the establishment, the store wasn’t some charity/asylum but you quickly reconsidered once you remembered the recent streaming they made. Shigaraki filmed Dabi burning up a whole forest just to kill some time as they laughed. Problem was they had accidentally murdered some poor people on a picnic, who they’d later find and film, joking about how ‘today was not the day for a picnic, guys’. The two guys would livestream the whole thing on various platforms, other times they’d upload it later on a channel they owned under an alias, where perverse comments encouraged shit like that and gave them both views. They obviously had a clear immoral viewpoint on heroes (they despised the filth society had created on false pretense) and never failed to shout it even louder.

‘’Hello, sweetheart.’’ Dabi greeted you, approaching the register. His loyal dog followed close, hands in his pockets and a sly smile.

‘’Me and my friend would like to check out a few shoes today, we’re feeling.. generous.’’ he continued.

You quickly regained composure and stammered a ‘’y-yes, sure’’ as they looked at you, Dabi's eyes diverting to look at your work uniform, a blazer with exposed bust and a tight pencil skirt (yeah yeah you knew this was a high end sneaker store but rules were rules and you had to attract the filthy rich men somehow).

‘’W-what would you guys l-like to see?’’ you were choking on the words, the proximity not helping further.

‘’Sweetie got a speech impediment?’’ Shigaraki said directly to your face before Dabi interrupted.

‘’Don’t listen to this asshole, he isn’t getting any so he’s always pissed off.’’ to which the first scowled but remained silent.

Dabi seemed.. kind? you thought as you looked at him and shyly moved to the display shelves.

‘’S-so, could you guys tell me what you’re looking for exactly?’’ you couldn’t believe these two had to come to your place for fucking shoes, somehow the thought of villains having to buy clothes had never really crossed your mind.

‘’We don’t fucking care, sweetheart’’ Dabi said looking directly at your fluttering from anxiety chest and eyeing your tits. Such a pervert, thinking you wouldn’t notice.

The whole time Shigaraki was on his phone, which he held in a bizzare way, it was known his quirk involved his hands but you never bothered to care, both these guys were murderous and you possessed no ‘quirk’ or whatever they called it in hero circles so it really wouldn’t matter if it came down to physical altercations.

‘’We have t-these ones’’ you lifted your arm up to show Dabi a new pair you got in last week as his eyes traveled to your bent ass, your skirt accentuating the curves even more, as he smirked to himself.

‘’T-they collaborated two brands for this.’’ you murmured, not sure he heard you. His presence made you anxious, you knew what he was capable of and definitely wanted to live another day.

‘’Oh yeah?’’ Dabi said. ‘’How much do these cost? They’re fucking ugly.’’

You opened your mouth to retort but settled with a ‘’T-two grand’’ which came off unsure and hesitant.

‘’These are dead. Two grand for these abominations? Hey Shiggy, come look!’’ he told the man who had been too consumed with his phone to listen to the conversation.

‘’Look at that shit man, can you believe trash heroes buy that for two grand?’’ he asked as the latter responded

‘’Yeah I really don’t give a fuck, buy your shit and go, I have content to upload.’’

‘’Please excuse him, baby, he’s just a weirdo who gets off on livestreaming the people he decays, don’t worry we won’t take long.’’

Decaying? Livestreams? And why did he call you baby? These guys had to be joking, they were openly talking about viciously murdering people for fun and you suddenly felt sick, your stomach with its contents turned over.

You had been silent, looking at them in horror, while Dabi broke the silence.

‘’Awwh, c’mon now, I’ll be nice. I think I might like these.’’ he said and pointed to a pair of black plain sneakers, they’d suit him, you thought despite the current situation.

You must’ve not reacted at all so he spoke again:

‘’Are you slow, sweetheart? I said I want to try these on, in 15’’ in a tone that made you immediately snap out of your thoughts and take a step back, he felt too close through your peripherals.

‘’L-let me check in the b-back for you guys’’ you apologetically mewled as you backtracked, you couldn’t even turn around but slowly got to the storage room. Fuck, you thought, of course he had to be wearing one of the largest freaking sizes, your store never brought these as no one ever bought them, what was he, a fucking giant? You were frantically searching through storage drawers and basically anything scattered you could find across the room but with no success, the pair was sold out -it was a basic choice- and the sizing available was 13 and below. Shit, you cursed, as you were about to exit, when you saw two figures at the door startling you.

‘’What’s taking you so long? Lost in the hallway?’’ Dabi mocks, as Shigaraki snorts.

‘’I- i- couldn’t f-find the ones you’re looking for’’ you avert your eyes as you utter the words and Dabi’s smirk wavers as he stares at you.

‘’What does that mean, baby?’’ he asks, as he inches closer. ‘’You should be grateful I even chose this shitty store in the first place. It’s not enough you charge poor customers two grand for shoes I can find in the dumpster, now you’re telling me you don’t have the one pair I actually liked?’’ he raises his tone as he has you practically pinned against the door. You could’ve sworn the other guy's laughing but the room’s spinning and you try to take a deep breath.

‘’I- i’m sorry, guys, p-please let me try to find s-something else- for you, I-’’

‘’No, I think you can just shut the fuck up now, sweetheart. I don’t want excuses from that dumb little mouth of yours’’ His words hurt as you try blinking your tears away, it used to help but not when they’re flooding your eyes like a stream anyway. You feel like this could actually be your end and matter of fact, anyone would know soon enough, as you’d probably also get livestreamed while they’re at it.

‘’Soo.. let me get this straight, you can’t find a proper excuse, you don’t have my shoes, you make me and Tomura wait while you're blabbering some bullshit and you scam stupid cunts for money. Does your boss know he’s hired the dumbest whore on the planet? Or do you fuck him to keep your job? Shame truly, all this for a shitty job, you reaally gotta be desperate.’’ he says and now the tears are well formed and fall from your eyes, as you sob- you literally sob, ashamed and hurt, these men didn't even know you and here they were throwing words around because of a pair of fucking shoes, you feel disgusting, useless and embarrassed, as you choke out some ‘’im s-sorry’’s and apologize profusely.

None of them seem to care about your tears or your stuffed nose, snots falling on your chest and staining the work blazer and Dabi continues in an amused tone.

‘’Stop crying, it's pathetic. Be of use instead, will you?’’ he sighs and signals to Shigaraki, who had been watching intently the whole time, to come close.

‘’Tomura, how do you think bitches like her pay when they can’t satisfy my needs?’’ he asks the man, who contemplates for a second, kind of clueless and annoyed, interrupted from the live streaming of the rest of the LOV.

‘’Ugh.. I don't know, kill her? Listen man, we don’t have much time, we have to go meet the rest, so whatever you want to do, make it quick, I want to show my face in Toga’s stream, she has too many hot bitches watching her.’’ he sighs.

This man is out of his mind.

‘’Shiggy you fucking incel, it’s not like you’re going to fuck any of them, so how about you put your scrambled decayed brain to good use?’’ Dabi responds, all while you’re looking at the exchange horrified, where the fuck is this going?

‘’Well, since apparently I’m the smart one here, I’ll tell you both how this is gonna end up.’’ Dabi exhales, he sounds bored but his eyes gleam, he seems amused. ‘’You can’t offer me my shoes? You offer me your body, it’s not like you have anything else going on for you anyways. I fuck you and your little cunt and you’’ he turns his attention to Shigaraki, ‘’you’re going to film the whole fucking thing. Should grant you enough pussy once I let you participate.’’

You want to scream, you really do. But there’s no words coming out, the phone’s too far away, the storage room hidden in plain sight and there’s two guys ganging up on you so what’s the only thing you do? Beg.

‘’P-please, Dabi, I can- I can help you find something else, we have-’’ you blabber but he cuts you off.

‘’Wow doll, surprised your dumb brain memorized the name. But I don’t blame you, I would too.’’ He’s inching closer to you as you backtrack, each step he takes leads you towards the end of the room, the closet touches your back as you’re pinned under him, touching the shelves.

‘’Got the camera on?’’ he tells Shigaraki, without turning to look at him, while the latter scoffs.

‘’Yeah, all set’’ he says, you can see him holding his phone and wait impatiently.

‘’Now’’ Dabi says, ‘’take that nasty shirt off, God, who dresses whores like you up? Tits out and everything for the public to see.’’ he says as your shaking hands start unbuttoning the work blazer, you had no shirt under it, it was a hot day and you hadn’t bothered, it’s not like customers were frequent.

He’s so close to you that your arms touch on his shirt as you slowly remove it and it falls down your shoulders, your bare tits in full display not just for him but for Shigaraki’s camera to film as well. His eyes rake you up and down, your cheeks stained with tears, your hair disheveled and flying all over as your tits bounce on your chest, rising and falling from anxiety. It’s swift, but you notice how his turquoise eyes widen-not a lot since they’re heavy lidded and half patched- to the sight of your tits.

‘’Fuck, these look nice’’ he comments as he brings up both hands to grope them while you gasp. His hands are not as cold as you expected, they’re large, slender and painted black as he starts circling his wrists while still at a fair distance. You moan and he smirks, Shigaraki switching spots to get a better angle.

Dabi closes the distance as his face is on yours, his breath on your mouth as you close your eyes and he laughs.

‘’Awhh, did you think I’d kiss you?’’ he says as you whimper frustrated but he continues ‘’Whores like you don’t deserve kisses.’’ He grabs your skirt with both hands, as he aggressively lowers it.

His words cut deep and you fight the urge to let another stream of tears fall down your face, you’d been called names in the past, but the way he talked intimidated and upset you way more than anyone before. Unbeknownst to him, your felt your panties soaked, his hands on your tits had turned you on, the thought of you being like this disgusted you. You really were pathetic and he’d soon find out.

His hands cupped your clothed cunt as you moaned ‘’D-dabi, please’’ to which a voice from the back laughed, you had completely forgotten about Shigaraki, the fact that he was watching (and filming) making you want to vomit.

‘’Baby, please shut the fuck up.’’ Dabi said as he moved to your left and continued ‘’Tomura, are you getting this?’’ but at this point Tomura was not only getting it but holding the phone with one hand while the other rubbed his hard-on.

Dabi moves your panties to the side, almost ripping them apart and pushes two fingers without warning in your lubricated cunt as you choke on a moan, his fingers feel so good around you and he knows how to move them inside you, working his way deeper, while they’re already long.

‘’Man, you’re not gonna believe how wet she is’’ he tells Tomura, who hums and strokes his clothed cock, his phone shaking in his hand.

You’re being moved up and down the shelves, his fingers penetrating your cunt with force as you feel the pressure in your core build up, you think about fucking yourself on his fingers, grinding up and down but he brings his other hand to your neck and chokes you unfortunately correctly, blocking your airway immediately: ‘’Don’t think you get to decide when to cum’’ he says as he removes his stained hands, your arousal is brought to your face as he turns around and proudly shows the camera.

‘’Look at this retail cockwhore guys, pussy dripping from two men she couldn’t sell shoes to’’ he brags and you crumble, embarrassed and desperate for an end.

‘’D-dabi, p-please don’t say that’’ you mewl and he looks at you with pity.

‘Say what? The fucking truth? Aren’t you a little cumslut, yes or no?’’

‘’I- I - am n-not-’’

‘’I said, are you or aren’t you my little cumslut, yes - or - no?’’ he orders as you notice something small and blue igniting from his fingertips and you freeze.

‘’Say it’’ he orders.

‘’I- i am’’ you brokenly murmur, but he needs all the words.

‘’You’re what?’’

‘’Y-your cumslut’’ you're shaking not wanting to believe this ordeal.

‘’I need the name too, camera's on you know’’. he says again, his patience wearing thin.

‘’I-i-am--Dabi’s cumslut’’ you look at the camera and with that he finally snaps, turning you over and grabbing you by the waist, his wet fingers touch your lower back, ass to his erection, as he spanks you and you flinch.

‘’Good, now let’s show everyone how good cumsluts like you get fucked’’ he smirks as he unzips his pants and brings his cock in between your folds.

The sensation is intoxicating, your heat and his pre leaking in between you while your hands are stretched to touch a shelf you can’t reach.

‘’Make sure you’re getting this’’ is all Dabi says before pushing his cock inside you as you let out a sharp cry, he’s too big and you can’t take him at once, a shooting pain up your entrance as he starts thrusting at a steady pace.

‘’P-please ‘s too much, s-slow d-down’’ you yell behind you but he doesn’t seem to be giving a fuck, as he grabs your hips harshly and pushes his angry cockhead with hatred all the way up inside you, your pussy stretching to accommodate him and his length and you thank his fingers for the prior lubrication and mess they made in your cunt.

‘’F-fuck, feels too good’’ he groans as he rams into you, you hear a sudden whimper and look around to see Shigaraki with his cock out, moving his fist up and down his length, a phone still on his hands while his eyes are fixated on the spectacle.

You don’t have time to beg for him to stop filming because Dabi’s slender fingers are toying with your clit, his hard cock ripping apart your insides and digits finding the bundle of nerves with ease. He teases your clit, not harshly, as his cock does that for you, but in light strokes, like he’s trying to tickle you and you feel yourself tremble, your cunt twitches on and he feels it as he groans ‘’Shit, you’re tight, too? Who would’ve expected it, hmm’’ as Shigaraki is starting his commentary on camera.

‘’Take a look guys, this is probably the biggest cockwhore we’ve seen, look closer, I bet ya 10 bucks her hole so loose, Dabi’s numb in there.’’ while Dabi huffs, skin slapping sounds reverberate through the small room, as he continues his pace, his cock disappearing between your folds.

‘’Man, shut the fuck up’’ he tells the guy behind him, ‘’her pussy’s tight as shit..or maybe I just have a big cock, unlike your incel ass’’ he says and you moan, he’s becoming harsher, his cruel words only cause more arousal, you can’t deny the pleasure he’s giving you, each time he belittles you or Shigaraki for the matter, you feel yourself tense around his hard length and while you can’t see him you imagine him drinking in your desperate arched back, frustrated whines and pathetic attempts to sink down on his cock, even though you know damn well he’s the one setting the pace and pulling all the strings.

‘’Hey, Shiggy’’ he groans, ‘’want me to let the whore fuck herself on my cock? She seems so eager’’ he tells Tomura, who at this point is solely focused on your ass sinking up and down Dabi’s cock.

‘’S-sure’’ he breathes out, too horny to care.

Dabi stops moving, cock hard and still inside you, stretching out your cunt regardless ,as you pant frustrated, you’d been so close and he stopped once again. Fuck it, you think, you need to get your release somehow.

You take a deep breath and start your tantalizing moves with his length throbbing in your walls, you move and grind your hips back and forth as Dabi hisses, his hands dig in your ass, a pain from a metal on your hips, you’d definitely have marks tomorrow but it feels too good and he lets you, which surprises you.

‘’D-dabi, is she good?’’ a voice calls from behind and Dabi doesn’t answer, he just lets you do your work as you increase your pace, your legs are about to fail you but you raise yourself up and grip whatever you can find in front of you while chokes escape your mouth. You think you might make yourself come and he must be on the verge too, because he grabs you by the hair and shoves his cock all the way up your cunt, leaving you breathless as he spits a ‘’enough’’ and starts drilling himself inside at his own relentless pace.

You’re feeling numb, repetitive thrusts and a heating sensation down your core, you wish for his hands on your clit so you beg. Again.

‘’D-dabi, please, t-touch me there.’’

‘’Beggars can’t be choosers, baby.’’ he smirks, breaths ragged as he plunges his cock into you, the perfect motion for your pussy to clench and while he acted all tough, a hand is back on the aching nub, he wants you to come undone, wants to be the one bringing you to such despair.

‘’D-dabi, I-im-hmn.. g-gonna–’’

Hairs sticking to your face, veins popping out your hands as you feel something in your stomach snap, blabber a bunch of incoherent words and release all over his cock, trembling- pussy pulsating all around him.

He’d been waiting for this, holding himself back, he could’ve come way sooner but wanted your orgasm on him so he lets himself go with a couple final thrusts. He moans out a ‘’f-fuuck– good–..good cunt–..baby’’ before shooting his cum all the way up your cervix, long spurts that feel endless inside you and the sensation is tingling, almost satisfying in a twisted way.

A voice interrupts the moment when both of you turn to look at Shigaraki, his angry cockhead in between half a fist and a frown on his face, he seems upset.

‘’Dabi you idiot, I wanted her too’’ he says and Dabi looks at you, fucked out and cum oozing from your hole. His cum.

‘’Well,’’ Dabi looks at you, ‘’would my favorite cumslut help a friend in need?’’ he smirks, ‘’just a quick blowjob, we don’t have all the time in the world’’ and you wordlessly nod, his gaze doesn’t leave room for debate.

‘’C-could I please have some water?’’ you mewl, your throat dry from the sounds made earlier.

‘’Water?’’ Dabi laughs, ‘’nah, it’s too far away. Here, have this instead.’’ he says as he approaches you and swiftly moves his hands up your cunt, gathering his cum and bringing them to your mouth. ‘’Open up’’ he orders and your eyes widen before you realize his load is lubricating your mouth, as he continues ‘’now, you can suck the incel off.’’ he says as Shigaraki is too impatient to retort and already has his cock poking at your mouth. He’s smaller but has nonetheless notable girth.

‘’Mhm..not gonna last long, man’’ he says to which Dabi snorts, not really giving a fuck. Indeed, once you're forced to take Tomura in your mouth and bob your head up and down a couple times, he pants and whines, cock jerking in your mouth, as his hand not holding the phone (all except one finger) rests on your head pushing it down his pubes. Soon enough he comes, you can tell by the way he frantically bucks his hips up, so you remove your mouth in tears, this feels horrible. His load spurts all over the place, some lands on your hair and some on his shirt.

‘’Fuck!’’ he groans, ‘’my shirt’s stained, you whore.’’ his voice whiny as his eyes narrow. For the first time, he inflicts terror on you, as his hand’s about to approach you when Dabi interrupts.

‘’Enough, she’ll give you another one, I’m sure shitty store sells some lame shirts, as far as I’ve seen’’ to which Tomura sighs and removes his shirt. He throws it to your face and hisses.

‘’Gross, you can keep it, cumslut’’. You feel fucked out, tainted and humiliated when Dabi speaks up.

‘’Tomura–’’ There's still hope in your eyes, as you turn to him.

‘’She's about to put in on Depop you know.’’

Dabi and Tomura smirk and you wordlessly get up, something plummets inside (your heart?), as you wipe tears inside your elbow, the only clean body part of yours.

It’s been hours since the shift ended but you’re curled up in bed, bruised inside out and you can’t sleep, your mind blank, as you anxiously scratch your knees. You feel violated, you remember Dabi’s hands on you, cock and fingers inside you, Tomura’s shirt and his load in your hair, which was later thoroughly washed to the point clumps fell off, when a message appears on your phone.

It’s a message request from a @ touyat and it reads:

How’s my favorite cockwhore doing?

You suddenly feel very cold, how did they even find you? Your hands shaking as you pick up your phone to unlock it only for a new request to pop up:

@ shigarakitomura

1 attachment sent.

You take a deep breath as you contemplate.

Well, this could be worse, you try to think rationally. This could’ve been livestreamed.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #dabi x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #touya todoroki #mha smut #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha dabi #mha shigaraki #mha #mha x reader #tw non con #tw dubcon #tw degradation #tw dumbification #i honestly feel bad ngl #corollaservant

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morganski-19 · 3 months

Text

The One Where It All Started

This takes place about a year before the rest of the posts will be taking place. Just to set the stage before the real schnenanigans start.

“So I said that was a terrible idea, because there was barely any research done so it would be misleading to the readers, right,” Nancy continued her story about the piece she’s been working on at work.

“Yeah, that would make me pissed,” Robin added, following along.

Nancy nods in agreement as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Exactly. I would rather print nothing than something they made up. But of course, the boss doesn’t think so. I’m thinking of dropping the project, so my name isn’t attached to it, but then that just means I ‘didn’t have faith in the work’. No shit I don’t, it’s completely fake.”

“Fuck those guys,” Steve adds, partially listening as he’s grading his student’s assignments.

Jonathan and Argyle walk into the café, finding the group at their normal seats and joining them.

“My dudes,” Argyle bellows. “How’s it going?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Nancy groans.

Jonathan winces. “Those assholes at work again?”

“Yes,” Nancy exclaims. “I need to find another job but this is the best I could get after school.”

“Could be worse,” Robin adds.

“I know, I just hate working there.”

Steve stares at the paper in front of him with a confused expression. “What do you guys think of this one?”

He turns the paper around to reveal a hand turkey covered with red drops resembling blood. What would normally be the feathers are now plucked off and surrounding the turkey leaving the pink underneath. Or at least that’s what it looks like. It could just be pink feathers and a turkey standing on a pile of leaves. But that wouldn’t explain the X’s for eyes.

“Are you seriously grading hand turkeys right now?” Robin rolls her eyes. “And you think your job is hard.”

“Try to teach a bunch of first graders basic math after they’re all hyper from recess and then get back to me. And it’s not just hand turkeys. There’s also spelling tests somewhere in here.”

Jonathan takes the paper from Steve’s hand, showing it to Argyle better with a very concerned glare. “I think you might need to talk to this kid.”

“He drew a murdered turkey, dude. Kid’s got issues.”

Steve takes the picture back, assessing it more. “I mean, those could be leaves.”

Robin points to the picture. “And that’s not blood.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to the kid.” Steve turns it over and sees the name. “Wait, this is Bobby’s. His parents hunt wild turkeys. That’s normal.”

A man with long, brown curly hair approaches the group, wearing a leather jacket with a band tee and black jeans. “Sorry to interrupt but, Wheeler?” He turns toward Nancy, pointing softly at her.

“Oh my god, Eddie?” Nancy smiles standing up to give him a hug. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since high school.”

“Eh, it’s been better. But you, I saw the article you did last month. Best thing I ever read in the news.” Eddie sits down on the chair across from Nancy.

Steve is trying his hardest not to stare and keep grading his stack of papers, but it’s hard. Robin elbows him in the side and widens her eyes in a “Really?”. Steve shrugs in his defense, taking a sip of his mocha. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Aw, thank you. I worked hard on that. What are you up to now?”

“Kinda between jobs at the moment. I work as a freelance artist but I’m taking a break from that becoming a tattoo apprentice.”

“That is so cool, dude,” Argyle interrupts from across the table.

Nancy has a moment of realization. “Right. Eddie, these are my friends. Robin, Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle. Guys, this is my old friend from high school, Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you guys.”

The group replies with varied greetings, Steve and Eddie holding eye contact a bit longer than the rest of the group does. Resulting with another jab in Steve’s ribs from Robin. He yells at her with his eyes for her to stop.

“So, do you live in the city now?” Nancy goes back to addressing just Eddie.

He scratches at his chin with a pained faced. “Kinda. Moved here to live with my ex a few months ago. And then he sort of cheated on me, so I’m trying to find somewhere else, but money’s kind of tight right now.”

“Ugh, that sucks,” Nancy winces. “I’m sorry.”

“Is what it is.”

Nancy turns to Robin, whispering something in her ear. Robin shrugs and whispers something back.

“You know, if you wanted to, no pressure or anything,” Nancy starts. “But, my old roommate just moved out and I’m looking for a new one. It’s a nice place my grandma rents to me so it’s rent controlled. I know we haven’t talked much since high school, but it’s yours if you want it.”

“Have to think about it, and see the place. But that might be nice.”

“And you’d live across from me and Steve,” Robin adds, earning her an elbow to the ribs.

Eddie smiles flirtatiously. “Well that does sweeten the pot.” He notices the hand turkey still laying on the table. “What the fuck is wrong with that hand turkey?”

“I already said I would talk to the kid,” Steve groans.

“Why is this is this kid going on turkey hunting trips anyway,” Jonathan asks, concerned.

Steve shrugs. “How would I know, not my kid.”

Argyle reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a joint, handing it to Steve. “For your troubles.”

“This group is great,” Eddie laughs to himself, already agreeing to Nancy’s offer in his head.

General information about the fic here

Tag list (just tagged everyone who seemed interested, let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417

#stranger things #stranger thigns fanfic #freinds au #steddie #ronance #jargyle #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #spicy six apartment schenanigans #morgan's friends au

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Batting Practice Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your kitten costume leaves Bradley feeling more and more possessive of you and Everett. And hopefully Frank can take a hint.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

You kept glancing down at the tote bag on the floor next to your desk. It was filled with everything you bought on Amazon. You only needed to get through the afternoon, and then you could change into your kitten costume and sneak out of work.

When Frank knocked on your door, you were so distracted, you accidentally told him to come in, even though you were trying to avoid him.

"Hey, baby," he said cautiously. "I just wanted to see how your weekend was."

"It was fine," you answered without looking away from your computer monitor as you typed away.

"Who answered your phone on Saturday?" he asked.

Your fingers typed a word that didn't exist in any language as you finally glanced up at him. "Everett's tee ball coach."

"Oh. He called you Kitten."

You sucked in a breath. "Yeah...."

"I could start calling you Kitten," he said with a grin. "You like that?"

"You don't get to call me that," you gasped. Unexpected lust for Bradley pooled low in your belly at the same time as dread filled you up. You needed to be done with Frank. "In fact, don't call me anything. And please don't call my phone again."

"Come on, Kitten," he said, closing the distance to your desk.

"No." You were shaking your head at him. Nobody else should be calling you that.

"So that guy can call you Kitten, but I can't?"

You sighed and rubbed your fingertips along your temples. He was ruining what you were hoping was going to be an excellent day.

"Please, Frank. This was fun while it lasted, but I don't really see us going anywhere. And I don't think we should see each other anymore outside of work related business." That should hopefully do the trick since you never overlapped work with him. And really, what was the point in being with Frank if you were thinking about Bradley the whole time anyway?

But he still looked confused. You sighed; how had you managed to get yourself into this mess? Had he honestly gotten attached after a few months of randomly hooking up without defining the relationship?

"You don't want to be together anymore?" Frank asked.

Your eyes went a little wide. "We're not really together, Frank. We were just hooking up."

He nodded at you and just said, "Right, right," a bunch of times before leaving.

"You need to pick better guys," you whispered to yourself. And then your mind was flooded with images of Bradley in various baseball related articles of clothing, smelling sweaty and spicy, and talking in that deep, raspy voice.

You squeezed your thighs together before focusing your attention back on your work. But your mind started drifting again. What if none of the other parents dressed in a costume today? At least you were Team Mom, so if would be expected of you to wear one. But what if your costume choice was too forward? What if Bradley didn't like it? Oh no, you had chosen it just for him. What if you embarrassed yourself?

"Shit," you groaned when it was time to get changed and pick up Everett. It was too late to turn back as you slipped into the ladies' room and convinced yourself this was a good idea. You changed into the skin tight, black bodysuit and your black jeans. But you kept your black heels on.

After you checked your makeup in the mirror, you clasped your thick, burgundy choker around your neck. "Oh god," you gasped, already embarrassed about what you were doing. But part of you found yourself too sexy looking to backtrack.

Then you managed to sneak out to your car with the ears, tail and makeup in your tote bag. Everett was beyond excited to go to practice today. When you picked him up, he immediately asked, "Do you have everything for my costume?"

You just laughed and promised him you did. "I've got your Phillies hat and jersey. And the stick-on mustache, and the sunglasses."

Everett insisted on dressing up as Coach Bradley today. If you and Everett didn't embarrass yourselves off the baseball field, you would be shocked.

But as you tried to park next to the Bronco, you saw Sandra whip her car into your intended spot. With an eye roll, you chose a different one, but you still had to watch her climb out of her car dressed as a slutty referee. At least Henry looked cute as Spiderman.

"Great," you muttered, handing everything back to Everett so he could get changed in the car. You saw Piper and her mom were both dressed as The Incredibles, which was really cute. But a lot of the other moms were wearing things that were short and tight. Bradley probably wouldn't even notice you at all.

You folded down your visor and used the washable makeup to draw on a nose and some whiskers. Then you touched up your lipstick and slipped the cat ear headband into place. You did look cute, even you thought that much.

"I need help with my mustache," Everett said, and you climbed out of the car and helped him stick it on before clipping your tail into place.

"I didn't know you liked cats, mommy," Everett said before he took off toward the bleachers with his gear back, leaving you to gingerly walk in your heels across the turf.

"Apparently, Coach Bradley does," you murmured to yourself as you followed your son at a much slower pace. But when you saw Bradley and Bob standing together, laughter bubbled out of you. Bradley was dressed as Mario, and Bob was Luigi, and they both had plungers slung over their shoulders as they chatted with a clipboard between them.

You watched Sandra desperately trying to get their attention, bending over and stretching with Henry in front of them. But as soon as you rounded the bleachers and headed for the spot where Everett was already changing his shoes, Bradley looked up and met your eyes.

You watched as Bob continued to talk, but it didn't look like Bradley was paying attention. His hand holding the plunger slowly fell to his side as he looked you up and down. Then he licked his lips, and you felt faint.

You waved your fingers at him and mouthed, "Hi, Coach." And then he was heading your way.

--------------------------

Bradley avoided looking at Sandra's rear end as she strutted around in front of him. Bob was aware of her ass as well, and was also trying not to look. She had pulled the same thing with Bob about exchanging phone numbers 'just in case'.

Instead, the coaches were focusing on the plans for practice, and Bradley was already grinning at the kids in their costumes. When he saw Everett, he immediately glanced further past the bleachers and saw you. Dressed as a kitten.

"Holy shit," he muttered, wandering away from Bob as he was mid sentence. You looked sexy, waving your fingers at him and biting your lip. He wanted that lip between his teeth. He wanted your body pressed between him and the Bronco. He wanted his face between your legs.

Bradley was flushed and sweating as he approached you. "Kitten," he rasped, throat dry, heart pounding. "Jesus. You look..."

He took a moment to really appreciate you up close. You were wide eyed and looking up at him expectantly, red lips parted below your drawn on whiskers. You were wearing a choker made out of a shiny, deep red material that he wanted to touch. He smiled at the cat ears you were wearing, but when his eyes dipped to your chest, he felt his body pulse. He could tell you weren't wearing a bra under your skin tight top. He reached for you, unable to help himself. And you didn't stop him when he ran his thumb down your forearm and along the back of your hand.

"...like a sexy Kitten," he finished, and your lip went between your teeth again as your eyes fluttered closed. "You wear this for me?" He needed to hear you say it.

"Coach Bradley! You look like Super Mario!" Everett called, and Bradley took a quick step away from you.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, swallowing hard and focusing on your kid. "Wait a second... are you dressed as me?"

"Yes!" Everett replied, slipping a pair of aviator sunglasses into place. He was wearing Phillies gear. And a fake mustache.

Bradley burst out laughing. "You look good, kid. Authentic. You just need a Super Hornet to round it out."

"What's a Super Hornet?" Everett asked, eyes like saucers. "I don't like bees."

Bradley chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "It's a really fast airplane. Maybe I can show you one up close one day, if it's okay with your mom."

"Mom! Please?" Everett turned to you, begging, and Bradley was happy to have an excuse to focus on you again.

"You could come too, Kitten," he said, his name for you slipping out before he even realized what he had said. Everett was looking back and forth between the two of you, but thankfully Bob blew his whistle, and Everett took off toward home plate.

"That sounds fun, Coach," you told him with a grin.

He looked you up and down one more time, letting his eyes linger on your lips. "Do not even think about walking to your car later without me."

"Okay, Coach," you told him with a grin.

Bradley turned and tossed the plunger next to his bag, and ran his hands over his face. You dressed up like a fucking kitten. He was already jerking off nearly every day to the image of your face and your ass in that pencil skirt. But this was too much. He glanced back once, and he could see your taut nipples pushing against your bodysuit, your tits pressed together as you tucked your hands into your jeans pockets.

"Fuck," he groaned, pressing his lips together so none of the kids could hear him losing his cool. He was never going to make it through this practice without embarrassing himself.

------------------------------

You couldn't help but smile as you watched Bradley and Bob dressed as Mario and Luigi. They actually looked adorable. And all of the kids in their costumes were so cute too. You laughed as a unicorn ran for home plate while Bradley cheered her on.

You snapped a few photos of Everett and texted them to your sister, Molly, as you eavesdropped on the other moms.

"Grown men should not be allowed to look hot dressed in bright blue overalls, but here we are."

"I'd let either of them seduce me in a bad Italian accent, Tara. And I would love every minute of it."

You pressed your lips together to stifle a laugh as you read the new text from your sister.

What is Ev dressed as? A Phillies player? And who is that hot Mario? What is going on at tee ball? I have more questions than answers.

You just rolled your eyes and told her you would call her later. As soon as you told her that Ev had hot coaches, she was going to show up to a practice. And frankly you'd been enjoying the time to yourself to ogle Coach Bradley in peace.

You watched your son tossing a ball back and forth with Bob in the outfield. It looked like Bob was practicing some skills one on one with each kid to try to find which position might be best for them. You watched Everett throw the ball with some pretty good accuracy.

Part of you figured you should invite Danny to come to one of the games or practices. You doubted he would come; he probably wouldn't even respond to you. But it was the right thing to do when you technically shared custody with him. You had realized over the past year or two that 'sharing custody' was simply Danny's way to get out of paying child support. But you didn't need his money anyway.

You groaned and texted him about tee ball, but you wouldn't hold your breath that he would spend two hours away from whichever twenty year old he was sleeping with to see his son play.

When practice ended and the kids all dispersed for the bleachers, Everett ran right to you.

"Coach Bob said I might be a really good pitcher!" he told you, out of breath.

"That's fantastic!"

"And Coach Bradley called me a power hitter again!"

You hugged him against your body and let all thoughts of Danny go as you watched Bradley chat with the lineup of moms. He kept glancing your way, as if to make sure you weren't leaving without letting him walk with you.

"Can we go? I'm hungry," Everett whined.

"Chill. I put apple slices in your bag," you told him as Bradley nodded his head and slowly backed away from Sandra as she tried to step closer to him. Finally, you and Everett were the only ones left besides the coaches. Bob gave you a once over and blushed before he nodded in your direction and waved goodbye to Everett, who was munching on his apple.

Bradley and Bob bumped fists before Bob headed for his truck. "Sorry for making you wait, Kitten," Bradley said softly when he reached you.

"We didn't mind," you told him. Your heart was already pounding harder with him standing so close.

"Ready, kiddo?" he asked Everett who nudged himself between the two of you for the walk to the car. But Bradley was smiling at you over his head as Everett asked a million questions.

"Coach Bob said I might be a good pitcher. Do you know how to pitch? Even though you used to play shortstop?"

"I've got a decent curveball," Bradley replied, smiling at you. "Sliders are okay, too."

"Can you show me?" Everett asked, bouncing as he walked.

Bradley looked down at him and nodded. "Sure. We can go to the park one day."

And now your heart was pounding even harder, because he really did seem to want to spend time with your son.

-----------------------

Bradley finally glanced away from your face and your body as the three of you neared the parking lot. He frowned. "Why didn't you park next to me?"

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "I tried to, but Sandra cut me off and parked there."

"But that's your spot," he grumbled, already used to standing between your car and the Bronco and helping Everett get in the backseat of your car. He liked the way it felt kind of private.

You were grinning. "Should I put out a 'Reserved for Team Mom' sign?" you asked with a laugh.

"It's not a bad idea," he replied, opening your back door for Everett. "Way to go, kiddo. And once again, top notch costume. You really nailed the mustache."

Everett high fived him and climbed in, still munching away on his apple slices.

Bradley closed the back door and leaned one hand against the driver's door, which your back was pressed up against. He was hoping for a few minutes alone with you, but he knew this was the best he was going to get. At least all of the other moms and kids from the team had already left, and Bob was pulling out of the lot right now.

"Kitten," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as you pressed your palms back against your car door at your sides. Your reaction to him had him inching closer to you. You were spread out flat against the car, and Bradley wanted to press himself against you. But he saw Everett in the backseat, flipping through a book, and he knew he shouldn't.

"Coach," you replied, a teasing lilt to your voice.

"You never answered my question earlier."

"Which question?" you asked softly, and he stroked the back of your hand with his fingertips and leaned in a little closer.

"Did you wear this for me?" His eyes dipped down to your choker and then to your chest.

You bit your lip again, and Bradley had to fight for control as you looked up at him and said, "Yes. Just for you."

"Fuck." He let his finger trail up your arm and watched you lips part as he brushed your bare collarbone with his knuckles, fingering your choker. When his gaze met yours again, he boldly asked, "A collar, Kitten? You're domesticated? No more claws?"

Your sharp intake of breath had him beyond needy. Then you said, "Claws are for the bedroom, Coach."

His cock throbbed, and he was speechless. He was never speechless around women. Especially not when he was flirting. But this shit was next level. He was so into you, and nothing physical had even happened yet.

"I always wanted a cat," he told you with a smirk. "But I'm allergic. I don't seem to be allergic to Kittens though. Gotta spend more time around you to find out for sure."

"Mommy!" Everett called, and Bradley watched your chest heave as you sighed.

"Might be easier said than done," you murmured, turning your body toward the door and holding up your index finger for Everett. "One second, sweetie."

"I'm in no rush, Kitten. But I would love to take you out one night," he whispered, and you looked up at him over your shoulder.

"Really?" you asked, and Bradley had the urge to kiss off all of your red lipstick and your whiskers. He wanted to run his fingers along your choker.

"Text me. Let me know if I can take you out for dinner."

You nodded and smiled. "I'll text you, Coach. See you on Thursday."

"Bye, Kitten."

Bradley watched you pull out of the lot as he stripped out of his costume and tossed it onto his back seat. He stopped for some takeout for dinner and got gas. But by the time he got home and checked his phone, he was speechless again.

You had sent him a selfie in what he assumed was your bedroom in all your Kitten costume glory. The photo was followed by one word. Meow.

Bradley saved it to his photos and wrote back to you.

Kitten, you're teasing me like a ball of yarn.

You simply responded telling him you couldn't wait to see him on Thursday. And Bradley supposed that was just as sexy.

-----------------------

Kitten's costume has Bradley feeling some sort of way...but can we mention Ev's costume?! Tiny Bradley! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 6

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader

1K notes · View notes

abysseung · 1 year

Text

SOULMATE ‘❗️’ TRACKER — n. rk.

SCAMMERS… TRACKERS NEED TO LOVE TOO BUT NEVER SCAM ABOUT SOULMATES, YOUR SOULMATE COULD BE A VICTIM

・❥・After one lesson in soulmate mythology, you couldn’t help but figure out who your soulmate is. You’ve read books and articles yet you couldn’t find the love of your life. You nearly gave up until you encountered a business called “Soulmate Tracker.” You wasted all your money on this business and to your surprise, your soulmate was the one person you never wished for.

CHECK OUT … soulmate dilemma !

PAIRING ➸ enemy!niki x fem!reader

GENRE ➸ smau, crack, fluff, highschool au, soulmate au, enemies 2 lovers

WARNINGS ➸ profanity & scamming; each chapter has its warning

FEATURING ➸ enhypen eunchae of lesserafim liz of ive theo of p1harmony

NOTE ➸ THIS SMAU IS PURE FICTION, ALL THE IDOLS MENTIONED IN THIS DO NOT REFLECT WITH THEIR ACTUAL LIFE AND CAREER. THIS IS A NON-IDOL ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE

STATUS ➸ completed

↳ START ➸ 11/27/22

↳ END ➸ 03/02/23

AUTHORS NOTE ➸ omfg i’m finally making a fanfic for the loml. i felt like making an e2l enha smau so here i am. pls support this fic and enjoy !! (i always wanted to make an e2ls and there arent much niki e2l smaus) SONA SPEAKING !! (PLEASE READ) i changed my url but im afraid i can’t update the links bc tumblr isn’t letting me 😞 i will let u guys know that i update the links once tumblr lets me but for now please read st through the tags and hope that i’ll change the links soon :) thank you <3

TAGLIST ➸ taglist is closed thank you for the support !

☆ playlist — « unbelievable like tv ; a world of you and me »

PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE :) SPAM REBLOGS = OK! ; SPAM LIKE = BLOCK!

PROFILES ➸ relationship status: single❗️soulmate scammers

STEP 01 — soulmate wya

STEP 02 — destiny

STEP 03 — unprofessional fr

STEP 04 — tf does that mean

STEP 05 — screaming rn

STEP 06 — biddy buddy

STEP 07 — furry allegations

STEP 08 — no social skills = no soulmate

STEP 09 — insert oh my reference

STEP 10 — not funny, did not laugh

STEP 11 — isn’t that…illegal?? 😨

STEP 12 — wanna know something cool

STEP 13 — jaw dropping rn

STEP 14 — evil laughs

STEP 15 — strings attached

STEP 16 — prayed for my downfall

STEP 17 — hands in head

STEP 18 — government name

STEP 19 — heeseung ftw

STEP 20 — soulmate tracker 2.0

STEP 21 — giggling my toes off

STEP 22 — HEESEUNG MOVE

STEP 23 — shitting my pants

STEP 24 — #firstdate #hearteyes

STEP 25 — jump if u enjoy my pain

STEP 26 — i sorry very

STEP 27 — painful to watch

STEP 28 — character development

STEP 29 — scammer x victim

LAST STEP — ummm what 🙈

2K notes · View notes

55sturn · 4 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ BEEN AWAY

↳ masterlist!

↳ summary: in which y/n grows tired of chris constantly being whisked away on business trips and taken to fancy parties every weekend, she knows it’s part of the job but it’s taking a heavy toll on their relationship and she can’t take anymore.

↳ pairings: chris sturniolo × female!reader

↳ warnings: swearing, chris is stressed and kind of a dick, mentions of parties, implied sex, i lowkey shit on laura in this sorry not sorry, angst angst angst, oh and more angst!

↳ important things to note: this is completely fictional, i truly don’t think that chris would act the least bit toxic, like the way i’ve portrayed him in this piece or at all!

↳ important notes pt 2: purple text blocks are the lyrics that each part are based off of. during the text section, orange text is chris, and pink text is the reader!

THIRD PERSON POV

“I KNOW I BEEN AWAY, I’M JUST TRYNA GET MY PAPER STRAIGHT GIRL.”

chris sighed as his phone pinged with another text from his girlfriend, with every imessage ping, his heart clenched tighter in his chest.

his trips, more so the business trips that laura and the rest of the triplets’ networking and public relations team were taking them had begun to cause a massive strain on his relationship with y/n.

he would bring her along when he could but laura, his manager was adamant that these trips were meant for the triplets to build their network, so that their brands, the collective one all three shared and their own personal brands could grow and flourish. laura felt that the triplets’ personal relationships had no place in their professional lives and often made a point to exclude their significant others and relationships when planning their trips and events.

so when a trip or event was labelled as something to do with networking, it meant that y/n couldn’t tag along. and most of the time, at these events, the triplets were meant to paint their faces with effortlessly charming smiles and flirt with anyone they could, to gain a good rep.

and while y/n know what those networking trips and events entailed, her knowledge didn’t ease the loneliness and heartache she felt when she’d open up her phone to see backstage footage of the events. her heart would drop as girls would attach themselves to chris, flirting and hanging onto his every word, watching as he’d give the same flirty smile back to them.

y/n sighed tapping cautiously through private snap stories of some influencer party that was taking place, all of the most popular influencers making an appearance and posting about it, per their managers’ requests. as she paused in the middle of larray’s story, she saw chris in the corner, clear as day, talking to some pretty little blonde thing whose hand was on his bicep. rolling her eyes, she opened her texts with her boyfriend.

START OF TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

Y/N: when are you coming home? i’m tired and i can’t sleep without you

Y/N: chris???

CHRIS: i know i’ve been gone a while ma

CHRIS: i’ll be home soon, just gotta make a couple more rounds and reach out to ppl and offer to collab

Y/N: you say that every time chris

Y/N: and then you don’t come home until 3 or 4

Y/N: i’m sick of it chris i’m done

CHRIS: come on ma you don’t mean that

Y/N: whatever just be quiet when you get home i’m sleeping on the couch

CHRIS: ma come on, i’ll be home soon

*read 12:31 AM*

START OF TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

“THEY JUST WANNA FUCK WITH YOU, CAUSE THEY KNOW I FUCK WITH YOU.”

chris sighed as countless articles flood his screen, random female influencers claiming to be in some sort of lowkey relationship with him, random male influencers trying to get at his girl.

he knew it was only because he had finally announced that he and y/n were together. she had her own fanbase prior to be connected to the triplets and it only grew, but the growth came with overly possessive and protective supporters. and it became like that for chris as well. in theory the over and slightly intense protectiveness was endearing, to an extent.

but the fans created these rumours and let them swirl as a way to try and debunk the announcement of chris and y/n’s relationship, almost as if their respective fans were gatekeeping the two.

“do we say something? should we say something?” y/n mumbled, her face tucked into chris’ chest as they talked about the things metaphorically floating around online.

“no.”

“why not?” y/n piped up, her tone almost defensive and accusatory as she pulled away from his chest, her eyes boring into his.

“they’re only doing it because it’s confirmed that we’re fucking with each other. they wanna mess with us, get under our skin, and cause a rift so that we break up so they can try and swoop in. it’s better to pay those rumours no mind.” chris spoke, his hand rubbing up and down her thigh, squeezing lovingly as his hand reached her hip, letting her know that it was okay.

y/n sat up for a moment, letting his words sink in before nodding and laying back down in her previous position, knowing that she had to trust chris.

“IF I PUT MY TRUST IN YOU, WHAT WOULD YOU DO? WOULD YOU JUST STEP OUT? WOULD YOU THUG IT OUT?”

“i need you to trust me y/n! can you do that? can you please just trust me or do you want out of this relationship?” chris yelled, pacing his room as yet another fight broke out between the couple, rumours of chris cheating had been rampant for the last few weeks and it was getting harder for y/n to decipher what was true and what was false.

“i don’t know chris! every day it’s something new about you and some other chick and it’s getting to me! it’s hard to see what’s fake and what’s real right now when the whole online world is against us being together!”

“why are you paying attention to what’s being said online when i am right here telling you myself what’s true and what’s fake?” he yelled back, running his hands through his hair as she cried on his bed.

“chris you literally have to flirt with girls at those parties, what’s stopping it from becoming something real?”

“i don’t know, maybe the fact that i’m with you and not them?”

“chris we met just like that, at some stupid fucking social media party!” she spat, climbing off his bed and grabbing her jacket as he scoffed.

“so you think that just because you and i met that way, it means that i’ll throw away a relationship that means the world to me?” he seethed, laughing dryly as she rolled her eyes.

“no i think that you’ll throw it away because it doesn’t actually mean the world to you.”

“the fuck does that mean, y/n?”

“actions speak louder than words, chris, and you haven’t done a whole lot to show me what i mean to you.” she whispered, grabbing the rest of her things that had been scattered around his room as he shook his head.

“where are you going?”

“i need some space to think chris, we’re not over, but i need to spend a couple nights alone at my place, to calm down and collect myself. you should do the same.” she spoke, her voice small and uneven as she quickly made her exit, leaving chris to think to himself as he flopped down against his mattress.

“DON’T GIVE MY SHIT AWAY, I’M JUST TRYNA GET MY PAPER STRAIGHT, GIRL.”

“c’mon y/n, can’t you just store it somewhere?” chris groaned, trying to focus on the email he was typing up while on facetime with his now ex-girlfriend, y/n who sat on the floor in her apartment, going through a pile of chris’ clothes and other shit that she had rounded up.

“chris i don’t want your shit in my apartment, it hurts to look at it.”

“well whose fault is that?”

“i couldn’t handle it chris, you know that.”

“i know ma, i’m sorry, i’m just stressed and trying to get this email to some fuckin’ company out and i-i can’t do it while you’re sitting on call trying to hide your tears while you’re going through my shit because i prioritized my job over our relationship.” chris whispered, his voice cracked slightly as he looked back at her, watching as she wiped her tears.

“it just hurts so much chris, we should’ve been able to make it through. our love should’ve been strong enough.”

“it’ll be strong enough one day, i just gotta-“

“get through this part of your job, i know chris.”

“so please don’t give away my shit. just store it somewhere until you and i can make it through, okay?”

“okay.”

“THIS PENTHOUSE VIEW AIN’T AS BEAUTIFUL AS YOU. DON’T EVER HAVE TIME, BUT I CAN MAKE TIME FOR YOU.”

chris anxiously bounced his leg as he waited for y/n to arrive, he had flown her out to the city he was in for work, and as timid as she was about showing up, she pushed herself to go. she missed him, his smell, his smile, his touch. god missed his hands in hers as they tangled themselves up in the sheets. so instead of being stubborn, she boarded that plane and made her way to chicago.

she stood outside the penthouse hotel room that chris and matt had booked, she felt her stomach turn, she was going to see him again, and god she needed this. with a raised but shaky fist, she rapped her knuckles against the door.

chris and y/n had spent a few hours exploring the city, visiting all the touristy spots that she had been dreaming of seeing for years. once they got back, they both took a hot, steamy shower, and spent their time reminding each other how much they loved one another.

“the view is gorgeous.” y/n whispered, her hair and face tucked into one of chris’ hoodies over a pair of lace panties that left little to the imagination as chris’ arms were wrapped around her waist with his chin tucked into the space between her jaw and shoulder.

“so i talked to laura, told her that i’ll be booking my own networking appointments and trips from now on, i’ll run them by her of course but i told her i’m making my schedule now. and that you’ll be my plus one to every single event, on every trip. you’ll be a part of everything.”

“chris, what?”

“i don’t have much time myself but i made a promise to you and to myself while you were in the flight here, that i will be making time for you. you come before my job from now on.”

“is that why you flew me out here?”

“yeah. you’re my girl and you deserve my time and attention. i’m so sorry i ever made you feel like you didn’t. i love you, ma. you’re more important than flashy trips and parties.”

“i love you chris.” y/n cried, as she turned in his arms and pressing affirm but loving kiss to his lips.

“i got my paper straight ma, it’s our time now.”

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#Spotify #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets x you #sturniolo triplets imagine

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underhousearrestblog · 1 year

Text

Self-Sabotage | Neymar Jr.

(summary) when things get tough with your boyfriend, you do the only thing you know – run, and Neymar is not having it

(warnings) toxic-a$$ behavior... from you, luv... history of emotional abuse and neglect (not between the main couple), insecurities about relationship

(pairings) Neymar Jr x reader

(genre) angst, fluff

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(word count) 3.6k

(also) didn’t proof-read but I’m pretty sure I used the term ‘girlfriend’ and she/ her pronouns somewhere there...

HAPPY READING!

You stared at the article in front of you. After the initial shock of seeing the headline and the attached photo, now all you felt was void. Staring numbly at the gossip page, you felt tears rush to your eyes.

Famous Brazilian soccer star Neymar Jr.’s girlfriend cheating?

The attached photos showed you with a friend of yours hugging in quite an intimate manner in front of a hotel. There were already a few hundred comments on the article – some of them ripping you to shreds, some feeling sorry for the soccer star, some hoping it’s not what it looks like.

You had stopped reading comments a long time ago, not really caring for other people’s opinions. Still, it hurt how many people were hoping for your relationship to end.

None of the pictures showed any kisses or otherwise compromising actions but it didn’t take much for your boyfriend’s fans to take something half-baked and run with it. From the vague article and pictures, it could be a date you’re on and it might as well be just running into someone on the way out.

Two pings went off, indicating two new text messages. First was from the friend who informed you about the article.

I’m so sorry, luv.

You wanted to both cry and laugh.

The second was from Neymar. All it said was:

On my way home.

Whenever he texted you that, it usually took him about twenty minutes to get home. You had twenty minutes to get away.

Your thought process might be stupid. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t cheat. You shouldn’t run. However, your past experiences showed that people, when having even a gram of doubt, could become aggressive. Blame you for things you didn’t do. Say really ugly things. Of course, you wouldn’t describe Neymar with those behaviors but did you really know him? Had only dated for six months... He had probably just seen his partner on the front page of a gossip magazine for alleged cheating... Were you really sure he would believe you?

Once the logical part of your brain kicked in, there was no turning it off. The scepticism and anxiety, your usual companions, were creating scenarios in your head, despite you trying to hope for the better.

He’ll probably will ask me to leave – that was the best case scenario, you thought, stuffing some of the stuff you kept at his place into a bag, I should probably let him cool off anyway before I suggest talking.

You had seen situations like these far too many times – some of your friends blowing up in suspicion that their spouses had cheated, your parents frequently accusing each other, reading horrible news headlines of people getting violent, thinking their partner had cheated.

You knew that running away just added to the possibility of you coming off as guilty – that will be something you’ll have to be okay with. Did you think Neymar would become violent? Not really. However, him looking at you with suspicion and accusation would hurt just as much.

Most of your shit had to stay at the house, you would have to come collect it later. If your boyfriend hadn’t thrown it out himself already. So you packed only the essentials or things that would be hard to replace, in case Neymar actually threw them out. Some clothes, electronics, toothbrush, makeup, vallet and keys.

Keys...

Should you leave his key behind? In that case you should probably write a note or something. But what could you say? I saw an article lying about me cheating, so I went to clear my head, here’s the key, I will be back for the rest of my shit...

Probably should keep it for now... Could use it to come by for your stuff unnoticed.

Once everything necessary was packed, you went to leave and - ever the unlucky timing – the moment you opened the front door from inside, you ran right into Neymar. His fingers were picking out the right key to open the door and, while his gaze was casted down, you had just the right time either consciously or on accident to drop your bag behind the door.

Once he lifted his eyes, they quite literally lit up and he grinned, as he took you in. Disheveled hair, a wild look in your eyes and out of breath – to him you looked like a wet dream, at the same time you tried to steady your breathing enough to not literally pant.

- Hey, sweetheart, - you made no move to move aside. – I texted. Practice ended sooner than expected.

When you still made no move to let him in, he looked you over in more careful fashion, looking for something that’s wrong. You were in a hurry to leave, so, of course, hadn’t thought of the possibility that you could run into your boyfriend.

I shouldn’t have wasted time packing, you mentally berated yourself, but he clearly hasn’t seen the article yet, so what’s the harm of talking for a few minutes?

You forced a smile that, hopefully but unlikely, looked genuine. While moving aside to let Neymar in, you opened the front door with more force than necessary intentionally, sending the bag under the small table by the front door.

While he took the cap and boots off, you closed the door and leaned against it. He fidgeted with shoelaces and you fidgeted with excuses. He talked about something one of his teammates had announced at the practice, but you were only half-listening. Before he went into the kitchen, Neymar turned to you and with an amused smile said:

- Are you coming or leaving?

- I, - you stammered out, - I was actually... I wanted to go to the store.

Every word out of your mouth felt like lead, like a lie. You tried to focus on his eyebrows so you didn’t have to look him into eyes while lying.

- We need milk, - you tried to sound chill, - milk and some other stuff.

You hoped to every god out there that you sounded less panicked to Neymar than you did in your own ears.

Apparently, you did a better job than you thought ‘cause after a small moment of him just staring at you like he’s seen you for the first time, he shrugged and carelessly threw out:

- I’ll take a shower and we can go, - and turned to go into the kitchen. – We’ll take my car. Gimme fifteen minutes.

You blew out a breath you subconsciously had started to hold. He’s going to take a shower. Yeah. It was fine. You’ll sneak out while he’s in the shower. And you’ll leave him a note. He deserved that much.

You carefully walked into the room your boyfriend was and watched him take a bottle of water from the fridge. Were you the only one who felt electricity all around this room? You could’ve bet there was static in the kitchen. But Neymar seemed oblivious.

Watching him made you feel bittersweet nostalgia-kind of feeling. Was this the last time you would see him? Last time you see him loving you? Liking you? There’s no way he would like you after he reads that article. And there was no way he would believe you after he does. You were sure of it.

- Is everything alright, love? – you boyfrend asked, after you hadn’t blinked for a full minute. – Are you sick?

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Mostly cry.

Instead, your lips stretched into a genuine smile. Your eyes – traitors – watered against all your strength. Something between crying and laughing bubbled out of you, as you took few short steps towards Neymar and hugged him tightly. He exhaled out of surprise but didn’t even take a second before he hugged you with the arm that wasn’t holding the bottle.

His eyebrows furrowed, as he disregarded you with worry. You had never been an overly clingy or affectionate person and, against his own wishes, he had let you take all the space you needed.

After a half of minute of comfortably silent hugging and him rubbing your back, you stepped back.

- Now you’re worrying me, princess, - he chuckled, as he released you. – Did someone die?

Just our relationship.

Now it was your turn to chuckle.

- You have something against my hugs?, - you tried and failed to joke, quickly turning around, so he can’t read your eyes. – I thought you wanted more PDA...

You heard him laugh, as he put the bottle back into the fridge.

- Well, don’t stop on my account, sweetheart. Just let me take a shower so we both aren’t sweaty, and go nuts on hugging me...

You gulped down your tears and stepped into the hall. Just few more minutes. Just few more and you’re free.

Free.

What a joke.

Free to not see hurt in his eyes, as he reads about the media accusing you.

Few minutes was too much time...

- Hey, - you turned back and ran into Neymar yet again, as he was exiting the kitchen. – How about I go alone, huh? It’s just a short trip to the store. You should relax.

Something similar to amusement danced in his eyes, as he put his hands on your upper arms to steady you.

- Are you trying to get rid of me?

You opened your mouth to fix the mistake.

- Honestly, I’m hurt, - he put his left hand over his heart, faining offense. – I thought that being in a relationship would mean fun trips to get milk at 3 in the afternoon...

Him pretending to get hurt with such a serious expression on his face twisted the knife lodged in your already bleeding heart. You swallowed hard and broke the eye contact.

He took your face in his palms and turned it back against him.

- I don’t know what’s going on with you today but we’ll fix it, okay? – he sounded so sure and you wanted to throw those words back in his face. – Just ten minutes, okay?

You didn’t want to lie more so you just nodded and stepped back. He looked at you for a moment and turned towards the guest bedroom.

- Aren’t you going to go up to our room? – you questioned.

- Nah, the water pressure’s better here, - he said, entering the room.

That could cause some bumps in the road. Your room was upstairs, and him taking the shower upstairs would give you enough time to open the garage. In Neymar’s fancy house, the garage could be only opened from inside, from the basement. Apparently, to minimize the possibility of robberies. The garage door opening can be heard on the first floor.

Though he was taking a shower so... There could be possiblity he wouldn’t be able to hear it.

His car was still out front and he had said you were taking his car. On the other hand, even if he would hear the garage door open, you could just lie, again, and say you wanted to take yours.

The moment you heard the water start, you took your bag from the hall, keys and threw open the basement door. Once you had unlocked your car, you put the bag inside and went to open the garage door.

Piece of shit high-security system, you swore, as you took your phone to look up the code.

Neymar had tried to teach you the method of automatically opening the garage from an app on your phone but you never bothered and had to go down to the basement every time to open the door manually. It took you about a minute to put in the key code and unlock the door.

Once you did, you went to pull the door up by the lever, just to do exactly that and, while your eyes were adjusting to the natural light, to once again run into someone’s chest. Someone who stood right outside the garage door, was towering over you and smelled exactly like your boyfriend.

- Shit, - you muttered, as you took him in.

The same hoodie, the same sweatpants, the same – very dry and sweaty – hair.

- What the-

- fuck? – there was no sign of amusement in Neymar’s eyes.

Or suspicion. Or anger, for that matter. What there was – tons of – was disappointment, and somehow that was worse.

- I think we should take my car, - you tried to lie your way out one last time.

He inhaled and very slowly, very patiently exhaled, as if trying to gather all the patience in the world.

You calmly took a few steps back but the backs of your legs touched the front of the car. For every step you took back, Neymar took one forward and ended up crowding you against your car.

He looked at you with immense disappointment and hurt. Closing his eyes for a short period of time, he breathed in one more time and opened them again. This time, there was only anger.

- So you weren’t going to leave me, right? You were just going to drive the car out front and wait for me, weren’t you, Y/N? – he challenged you, his fingers combing through the hair on your scalp before he roughly pulled them to make you look up at him.

You physically couldn’t open your mouth to make another lie. No more.

- Your things missing from the hall was just me being tired and seeing stuff, right? The bag you kicked under the table was for shopping, no doubt. And you, - the intense look in his eyes, as he pushed you back a bit more so you’d have to sit down on the hood of the car, was terrifying, - you hugging me as if one of us was going to die tomorrow, that was my imagination too, wasn’t it?

Once you gathered enough courage to open your mouth, you threw out the most wrong words you could:

- I was gonna leave a note.

Against his better judgement, Neymar laughed. A humorless, dry laugh but still. He rested his forehead against yours, as he slowly drew circles on your scalp with his fingers.

- You were gonna, - he laughed some more, as if the thought alone appeared ridiculous to him, - you were gonna leave me a note? Pray tell – what could you possibly write to justify all this?

You flinched.

So he knew... He knew about the cheating rumors. And he asked for justification. So that meant he believed them? The paparazzi. The media.

- I would’ve apologized for leaving without notice, - you said in a small voice, pulling his hands away from your body. – But I didn’t want for you to break up with me in person.

Neymar’s eyes danced all around your face, searching for something with solid focus.

- It’s easier that way.

The short confusion was overpowered by anger and despair once again.

- Easier for who? – he took a step back and brushed through his hair with fingers. – For you? You didn’t want to break up with me in person, like an adult, so you decided to what? It would be less of a bother to just leave?

You won’t cry, you won’t cry, you repeated in your head, trying to keep up a stable demeanor.

- Do you think it’s easy for me? On top of everything else, you and your entire fanbase are thinking I cheated when I didn’t! – you raised your voice and it, of course, immediately cracked. – I go see one friend and I’m the bad guy! You think that is easy for me?

Neymar blinked. He looked you over once more with wide eyes before slowly stalking towards you.

- You were leaving... – he started, lifted his eyes up, inhaled and turned back to you. – Why do you think you were leaving?

You snorted and stood up from the hood. What did he want – for you to admit that you did cheat when you didn’t?

- I’m so fucking done, - you muttered and turned to get to the driver’s seat.

Next thing you knew – an arm around your waist lifted your feet from the ground and you were put back on the car’s hood. You huffed, now angry and irritated, and started to get down again, before two arms caged you in.

You had no choice but to look into Neymar’s eyes, as he leaned over you to the point where you had fallen on your back if you hadn’t put your hands on the car to support yourself.

- You lift your ass up one more time and I swear to god, I’ll bring down those cuffs we use in the bedroom, cuff both of us together and you’ll have no choice but to talk to me, - he said, completely serious.

That’s a bluff.

- You know better than anyone that I only allow those to stay on, - challenge in your eyes turned both of you on, - those are too loose for me. I could always take them off with no key.

You could. That part was true. The false entrapment was both a turn-on and a relief for you.

The lack of surprise in Neymar’s eyes said everything you needed to know.

He always knew.

Of course.

- You don’t want to play with me right now, - he said in a husky voice. – I’m frustrated enough I will tie both of us together with a shoe lace if I have to.

The stare-off lasted for just a few seconds that felt longer than they were. You broke the eye contact first and blew out an exhausted breath. Then you looked up at him, defeated and calm.

- I didn’t cheat.

His eyebrows shot up. He looked so surprised that, for a second, you questioned whether he had even seen the article.

- Cheat? What a-

- Someone took a photo of me and Eddie, and they released an article about me possibly cheating, - you explained. – But I need you to know now and always – I didn’t cheat.

He looked at you as if you had just punched him in the face out of nowhere.

As if you had grown another head.

As if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

This was it, right? What more was there for you to say?

- I can show you the article, - you offered, quietly.

- I saw the article, - he stood frozen still. – Two days ago.

Both of you stood still for a moment. Like bewildered wax figures. Not saying a word. Not even breathing.

- Did you not? – Neymar almost whispered. – Did you not see it?

You shook your head, regained your voice and added:

- Only about thirty minutes ago.

- So when you said you didn’t want for me to break up with you, - he rubbed his temples, trying to fit everything together. – You thought I wanted to break with you over... – he waited for you to finish.

- Over me cheating...

- Over your cheating rumors?

You nodded.

Wait-

If he didn’t know why you were actually leaving-

- Why did you think I was leaving? – you asked.

He looked down before looking back at you, fidgeting his fingers at the same time.

- I thought you were breaking up, - he explained. – with me.

You laughed. Genuinely. All this crazy day, and this was the funniest thing you’ve heard thus far. Hearing you laugh, even for a stupid reason like that, made Neymar smile.

All the emotions you suppressed today made you burst out in laughter. Your boyfriend thought you would want to break up with him!

- What was I supposed to be thinking? – he started to explain, frustrated but with the same kind, usual, familiar amusement in his eyes. – I see a gossip article about my girlfriend and one of her friends. I assume she’s seen it too. And everything’s alright for two days straight so I don’t think about it. Then I come back home, she’s packed everything up, hugs me as if I’m dying and is almost crying on the spot, - he smiled down at you. – What am I supposed to be thinking?

- That she has her reasons? – you hug him for real this time. – And, hopefully, that she would never cheat, - you add, burrowed in his hoodie.

He pulls back and takes your face into his hands to make you look up.

- That’s why I didn’t bring the stupid article up, sweetheart, - he says. – No point in talking about it if I never, not for a second, entertained the thought.

He hugged you back and inhaled the smell of your shampoo in your hair, calming and comforting.

- I will, however, be getting tighter handcuffs, - he kisses the top of your head. – And I wasn’t joking about cuffing both of us together if you ever refuse to talk shit out, princess. I don’t know what house you grew up in but in this one we don’t run away.

#neymar imagine #neymar jr imagine #neymar jr x reader #neymar x reader #neymar jr #neymar #neymar da silva santos junior #imagine

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