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#before they move on to better acting gigs
carmenized-onions · 3 days
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Doing Too Much. | House Call
logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.
[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth
[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.
portion; 4.8k
possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)
After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me
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Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.
When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.
It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.
‘Connections Puzzle #342’
Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,
‘Morning’
Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,
‘Good morning!’
‘Connections Puzzle #342’
And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,
‘Fuck you.’
Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.
Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.
And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.
Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—
Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,
‘How’s reworking the menu going?’
‘Hard to say’
‘Ask me tomorrow’
God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.
Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?
While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”
There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.
Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.
Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.
‘Are you busy?’
‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’
You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.
‘Are you fucking firing me????’
‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’
While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.
Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”
Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”
“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”
“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”
“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”
“…He what?”
You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”
Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”
“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”
“Yessir.”
“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”
They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”
You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.
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Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”
You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”
When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”
“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.
“What floor?”
“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”
“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”
What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?
“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.
“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.
He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”
“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”
He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”
You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”
“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”
“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”
“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”
“I did.”
“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...
“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”
“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”
“Mhm.”
“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”
He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”
“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”
“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.
“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.
Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.
You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.
“Yeah?”
She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”
Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?
You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”
She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”
She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”
You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”
“What for?”
“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”
You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”
He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”
He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”
Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.  
“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”
Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”
“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”
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The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.
So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!
You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.
But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning.  Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.
“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.
“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.
Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”
“But?”
“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.
He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”
“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.
“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.
Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”
No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?
“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”
Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?
“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”
You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”
“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”
“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”
“That sounds fucking disgusting.”
“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.
Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.
Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?
You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”
“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.
“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”
“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”
She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”
You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”
“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”
“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”
Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”
She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.
Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.
Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”
Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.
“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”
Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”
“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”
Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”
“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”
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“What are you actually dragging me out for?”
“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”
“Oh?”
You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.
“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”
She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”
“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.
“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”
She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”
“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”
“Doing too much.”
She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”
“I can cook like Michelin—”
“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”
She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”
She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”
“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”
She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”
You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”
“More like coach.”
“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”
When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”
“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”
“Jeans on a bookshelf?”
You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”
���I think he’s doing that to dry them.”
“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”
“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.
You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”
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As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.
You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.
You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’
Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.
You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”
She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.
Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.
Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”
“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.
Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?
“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.
“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”
“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.
You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”
She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.
It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”
She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”
“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”
“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”
“Then what’s the point!?”
Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.
When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.
Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…
You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.
‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’
You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.
‘Thank you’
‘For helping Syd’
‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’
‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.
‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.
‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’
‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’
Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.
“Are we going?”
“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.
You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”
You almost brake check the guy behind you.
 “How do you fuckin’ do that!?”
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the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.
Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.
Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.
The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.
Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.
We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.
I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.
As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!
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chrollohearttags · 9 months
Text
fuck me like you hate me • eren jaeger x black fem reader
I know I said I hate seeing my babies fight but I’m tweaking over the idea of some nasty ass, filthy hate sex between eren and (y/n). Like imagine they’ve just moved in together, adjusting to living with another person and they have been walking around mad as hell at each other over dumb shit around the house and from work (him ignoring her for recording sessions and her on Instagram showing a lil too much for his liking). The tension is CRAZY. It explodes into a huge argument..they think about breaking up but instead, fuck their frustrations out, I—😫😫
content warning: very ROUGH sex, name calling, use of N-word (by reader obv) degradation, hitting, spit play, oral sex, fingering, backshots, slapping, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, implied dacryphilia,breeding, marking and spanking, riding, .2 seconds of switch eren, bunch of other shit omg just proceed with caution, does have a really happy ending and lots of aftercare 🥹
word count: 8.3K
📝: and forewarning before anybody can come leave a dumbass comment, this isn’t in support or condoning of toxic relationships, fighting, domestic altercations/violence, etc. and this will be my very first and last time writing something of this degree. Also, this is purely fiction and all of these aforementioned topics will only be slightly touched on without graphic detail, as they can be extremely triggering and sensitive. Again, read this at your own discretion! (And keep it very cute)
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰──── ───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。
“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut the fuck up..you want to post everything, let’s post this.”
the words spewed like venom from between your boyfriend’s lips. Much like the many times that he called you baby, princess..or said ‘I love you’. But lately, things had been a little less affectionate around the Jaeger household. It had only been six months since the two of you had moved in together. Taking your newly public relationship to the next level and committing to one another. It was supposed to be a joyous time yet it was the exact opposite! As of late, particularly in the past few weeks, the two of you had been at odds and each other’s throats to say the least. The anger constantly building and only becoming worse by the minute. So much so, the both of you had questioned if living under the same roof was a wise option and even more so, contemplated splitting up..but alas, it seems you found a better solution:
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet, baby.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
the whole situation arose not too long ago, stemming from the fact that he had been working nonstop on new projects. As happy as you were that he was back into his groove, you were sick of being ignored and neglected for a damn album. Shelved and discarded like nothing more than a toy. It was infuriating, especially when you went out of your way after your own gigs and busy schedule to cook him dinner and make him snacks; even trying to surprise the man with a few little..outtakes and teasers from your photo shoots. Preferably the ones where you were nude or playing with yourself. Did he pay them any attention? Hell no. In retaliation, you decided you’d give him a taste of his own medicine..by blocking him on Instagram and purposely posting some rather wild shit. Such as you practically tongue kissing your homegirl as you guys took shots at the pool. Or twerking in a new fit normally worn by dancers and sex workers…it didn’t help matters any when he had to see the sultry posts by proxy from one of his friends, who shared it with him while at the studio one night and when he confronted you about it, you could care less. Saying that maybe someone else would appreciate it if he didn’t. Which had him completely irate and the situation escalated further than it ever should have. But this festering fire of resentment didn’t just boil over today. This had been due to weeks worth of rising frustrations. Eren felt as if he had worked to curate his sanctuary and you were destroying that and you were pissed that he agreed to you living together when he obviously didn’t even want you there. But it all came to a head only a couple hours ago..
flashback
the two of you standing in the bedroom, arguing and going at each other’s throats. Shouting and screaming..it was a situation you promised you’d never find yourself in after your ex and today, you’d had enough. You were ready to leave..call it quits on this entire thing because you refused to be in another toxic relationship. Especially when you cared so deeply for this man. But no amount of love could make you stay in this.
“You won’t even tell me why the fuck you’re so mad! Walking around with a fucking attitude and I’m supposed to read your goddamn mind?! Be serious!”
“Nigga, I shouldn’t have to tell you shit! I waited on you for three hours, Eren! Three motherfucking hours..got dressed, done my hair and everything and you fucking stand me up like my time ain’t worth shit. You don’t give a damn about anybody or anything except that stupid ass music.”
needless to say, tensions were high…you were both angry and it was probably best if you guys stepped away and gave yourselves time to reevaluate the situation but instead, you were running on fumes and pure fire. Only making matters worse. Thank goodness no housekeeping staff was around to hear this altercation because you guys would probably be on the front page of TMZ. Either way, neither of you cared. Right now, you just wanted to vent and get your peace out before the other could. “You mean the same music that’s paying your bills? That’s buying you those fucking purses and hair? Surely, you’re not complaining about that. You damn sure don’t when you wanna spend the money.”
making your blood boil with rage and your eyes well with tears. “You know what? Fuck you, I don’t need your money or nobody else’s. The fuck you think this is? I got my own shit. While you were laid up in the motherfucking suburbs, I was getting to this shit long before I got famous and damn sure before I met you..if you don’t want me here then say that.” But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot and neither were you…no one wanted to admit they were in the wrong. “No (y/n). I want you to understand that I got business to handle. That I have obligations and if my boys gotta come tell me you’re out here kissing on bitches and entertaining other guys while I’m working then you go wherever you want. I’ve never chased anybody in my life and I damn sure won’t start now. Especially somebody who runs to the internet when they’re mad. Childish as fuck and no woman of mine is gonna have me out here looking stupid. Go be with whoever’s making you happy because it’s obviously not me. Hell, maybe you can work things out with your fuck ass ex since he won’t stop talking about you in his songs. I told you it was a bad idea for us to move in together right now but you just had to. Now look.” The words cutting like a knife clean through butter. Stabbing you in the heart with his hurtful words…you thought this was what he wanted as well and to find out that yet again, you were just another chore like everything else in his life, you were gutted. Not only that, he’d bring up your ex as if that relationship didn’t come along with emotional damage and physical scars. He knew how much of a sensitive topic that was for you and yet, when Eren got angry, he had a tendency to hit below the belt and do so without the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice. With tears in your eyes, unable to hold them back, you’d begin screaming all over again, hitting his chest and trying to take out all your anger on him. Even as you slammed your fists against him, screaming that you hated him and slapping his cheek, he stood there unfazed. He knew your words were from a place of hurt and your actions were not the real you. You’d never raise your hand at him because you knew what that felt like. But feeling as if he didn’t care, you were distraught! So much so, you’d become blind with rage and act out of a place you promised to never go to.
“I fucking hate you, Eren! Swear to fucking God, bro!—all you do is make me feel like shit. If you didn’t want me, all you had to do was leave me alone!” Shouting as you swing your closed fists at his chest, banging on him and wailing as you cry. Screaming and shouting to the top of your lungs.
it was by that point, he’d had enough of being your punching bag. Looking away from you, he’d grasp your wrists, stopping you in your tracks and that only enraged you more. “Let me go, Eren! I’m not playing with you!” Alas, he didn’t say a word though. He didn’t even so much as look at you..staring through you like glass; just holding your hands in place to avoid your hits. Instead, he’d push you to the mattress and pin you back by your wrists. “Don’t put your fucking hands on me, I’m not repeating myself..I don’t play that shit, (y/n). Do it again and we’re done.” grimacing his teeth and leaning down against your face. He was a firm believer that if a relationship ever got physical, it was time to end it. He could never bring himself to put his hands on you, even entertain the thought of it so he wasn’t about to let you disrespect him and do the same. But your rage could not be quelled and instead, you’d start to kick around until he’d bolt your legs down as well. Staring at him like this…hair down, beard and mustache forming on his face, you could tell he hadn’t been himself either and right now, there was a far more primal energy about him. Energy that seemed like it could devour your ass alive if you pushed one more button. “Or what? The fuck you gon’ do? Pussy.” And in that moment, you’d find out just what he had in mind when you decided to spit at his face and in retaliation, he’d only laugh..much more than he should've..right before putting his hand around your throat, clutching it so tight that it causes you to gasp. Restricting your breathing in the process. Which forced your mouth open and allowed him to return it with his own saliva, seeping onto your tongue. With his knee placed between your thigh, brushing against that thinly clothed cunt, he knew you were wet..getting turned on for him even now. “You liked that, didn’t you?” Feeding you a couple slaps to your cheek as you begin to realize the gravity of the situation. “Answer me, bitch. You like spitting so much, I got something for you to use it on.” Suddenly, he’d begin to lean up, tugging at the top of your head next to adjust to eye level with his erection. With one fell swoop from his thumb, he’d tug his sweats down and right before you was his thick cock, standing at full attention. He didn’t want to feel your hands..nothing but straight mouth and throat and right now, he’d guide you as he saw fit. You were his toy right now…shoving that dick between your lips, he’d start to fuck that pretty, tear stained face like it was nothing more than a sleeve. He could hear the gurgling in the back of your throat and feel how hard you were trying but since you had so much to say, he was going to make sure you ate those words.
“What’s that, baby? Can’t hear you..” mocking you as he used your mouth to his heart's content. Balls slapping your chin and jaws suctioned around his shaft. You’d attempt to put your hands up to his hips but he’d slap you and make certain you’d never do so again. Sucking his teeth, Eren laughed as he watched you struggle to engulf all eight and a half inches of that thick girth. “Can’t pop all that shit with my dick in your throat, can you?” Asking rhetorically but he wasn’t done rubbing salt in the wound..you had truly and utterly pissed him off and for the last time. In haste timing, he’d retract from your mouth only momentarily to the sound of you taking sharp gasps and drooling all over yourself. He’d force your head to the edge of the bed, where he’d crawl over and continue his brutal face fucking. But not before he spat in that oral cavity once more, looking at you as if you were nothing more than an object. Bucking his hips and thrusting as if it were an inanimate toy lying in front of him. Your insides were matching the sensation of that of a flesh light, maybe even better. By the time he got into it, a bulge began to form in the center of your esophagus. And try as you might to swat at him, he’d tell you to place your arms by your side and not move them until he stated otherwise.
“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re messing with, princess. I don’t know which bum you’re used to fucking but don’t you ever try that shit with me again. There’s a reason I said I don’t chase anyone. Why would I when I know I’ll have you crawling right back?” and he was right! This man had done things to you that would have any woman stalking him and sitting in his bushes. Even so, you were still pissed off and not much in the way of taking his shit lying down. So as he twitched slightly in your throat, you’d begin to gurgle and gag on his dick, doing tricks to inevitably make him tap out. Grasping the top of your head, he’d tug his shaft from between your lips and spin you around until you were flat on your stomach, and glaring up at his face as he gripped your chin. “You can fuck half the guys in the game and not one of them would ever make you feel the way I would. That pussy will always belong to me. Stop pretending you don’t know that.” His words were so condescending, it made you want to scream but you couldn’t disagree either. Eren always had a nasty habit of playing on people’s psyche and getting under their skin with his words. He was the type to read someone down and not miss a beat. When he was angry, nothing or no one was off limits. Tears were already streaming from your eyes and throat already sore from his brutal handling but he didn’t care. “So I’ve got a great idea…” looking straight past you, he’d extend an arm and lay a heavy handed slap across your backside, still tugging at your hair without any sort of regard for it. “We’re not leaving this room until you and I fix this.” He’d take a moment to clutch his other fist around his cock; tapping it against your tongue, which was hanging out. “Until I fuck you so stupid, you forget what you were so mad about. How’s that sound?” Patting your cheek and inflicting sharp slaps to your ass, causing stinging pain. Along with sensations to your pussy. Proving his words to be true.
Trails of saliva pooled..dribbling from your mouth. Gagging noises constantly arising and filling the room as he relentlessly and disrespectfully fucked that pretty face. At the same time, he’d reach forward so that he could slide two digits inside of inviting heat. Pushing those fingers in and out at an intermediate pace. He’d rub on the sensitive bud with his thumb and pump the other two profusely. You’d slowly start to rut yourself on them, unable to resist him for much longer. “There you go…good girl. I swear, you’re so much prettier like this. Sucking my dick instead of bitching…” he couldn’t help but to fling one more insult in there but trust, he preferred this to arguing any day. Any frustrations the two of you had could be left right here! Continuing to relentlessly fuck your face, Eren teased your little cunt for two reasons: one, because you couldn’t help but to whimper and the sensations caused your throat to spasm and two, he was preparing you for how bad he was going to beat that pussy up. When he finished, you wouldn’t have the energy to move, less known scream at him. He was tired of being at odds with the woman he loved. All too well did he know the pain of practically living with a stranger he felt nothing for and he refused for you guys to turn out the same way. Too many laughs, so much love had been shared between you two for it to end now..
amid disassociating, EJ withdrew his fingers and fat cock from between your lips before telling you to lie on your back. “Spread those legs..” Earning him a side eye from you as those thighs parted to reveal that dripping center. “Bet you’re wet as fuck, aren’t you? Admit it.” Plump lips that were freshly waxed and soaking wet, just for him. There was no one else in this world that could get you so undeniably aroused and you both knew it. Raking his fingers through those long, thick locks, he’d crawl on to the bed; knees pushing through the mattress as he grasped your ankle and tugged you towards him. In that same, swift motion..you’d find your legs pinned back to the covers and feet practically behind your head. “She missed me, didn’t she?” That smug look on his features as he so casually stroked the hood of your clit. He wanted nothing else from you than to wet that beard up. He could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t as infuriated as you once were and that fiery spark had dwindled to a twinkle of adoration. But if he knew one thing about you..it was that you’d play coy until you couldn’t any longer. You’d fake an orgasm, pretend to not be turned on. Anything to make him feel inferior. Because you’d try everything to deny him that satisfaction of pleasuring you. You were stubborn, yes but far more aroused..too much to hide it, in fact.
“No, and I didn’t eith—ahh fuck!” Your mouth left agape as he shoved a digit inside and let one rest dormantly on the clit. “Exactly as I thought. Shut the fuck up.” Sitting down entirely, he’d keep your legs pinned back in one hand, as it was nothing with his strength. With all his pent up energy and frustration he’d normally use to fuck you dumb, he had been putting towards intense workouts the past few weeks. Trying to find a way to channel that anger in a healthy way to avoid doing something dumb. Working those two fingers in and out, pumping slowly..Eren made certain you were looking him in the eyes as he maneuvered that little cunt with the delicacy of his hand. Pumping and rubbing in a fluid motion as if it were second nature. Taking you gently by the back of the head, he’d hold you up and let you watch him work. “Shit—I’m not gonna come. If that’s what you want.” “You’re so cute, thinking you have a choice in the matter. Like I said, we’re not leaving until we fix this. So you can drop the fucking act.” Amid his declaration, he’d look you dead in the eye, peering right about your stomach and spit onto your pussy. Disrespectful and raunchy about it as well. He had no regard for you as his girl or even a person right now. You were an object..his little slut he was going to break and mold as he saw fit. “Take your eyes off of me again and I swear to God, you won’t get to come at all. You really don’t want to test me right now.” And something told you, every word seeping from his mouth was a pure fact. This man’s forms of punishment were hellish. One time, you made him so mad, that he fucked you for an hour straight, using a combination of various toys and his cock until you were in tears and refused to let you climax once. No matter how many times he stuffed you or nutted himself. By the time he granted you permission, it was like releasing the pressure on a tightly coiled spring and you nearly collapsed from the intense pressure.
so reluctantly, you’d bat those big brown eyes and fluttery lashes as you watched your man devour that tasty little center. Those jade eyes fixated on you; akin to a shark lying in wait just above sea level..stalking its prey. All you could hear were smacking, slurping and faint moans but what you felt were sensations of pure bliss. Slick had begun to coat the tip of his nose as he nuzzled it between your slit. His tongue lapped up every remnant of those syrup like fluids..sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted. This man ate pussy like his life was on the line and it’d only be a matter of time before he had you as putty in his hands once more. Eventually, Eren would snake his palms up to your own and clasp them together, intertwining those fingers once he removed them, so that you two were holding hands. A level of intimacy that he only showed to someone he cared about. It was blatantly obvious that he still loved you..regardless of how angry you were. Especially when you heard him moaning and sucking on your clit, which inevitably made you melt in his grasp. “Mmmmph..fuck.” Whimpering so softly and slowly rutting yourself against his tongue. “That’s it..fuck my face, baby. Real slow.” The deep rumble in his voice makes you melt even now. Even when you were just screaming at him. Suddenly, your breath would hitch and he’d cause another pang of pleasure to rip through your body. His tongue flickered all throughout your folds and he’d leave gentle kisses on those lower lips. That’s when you felt more saliva on your quivering cunt, combining with your own sweet juices. Those eyes were beginning to cross, toes curling as they rested on his shoulders and that little hole, leaking like a faucet. “You taste so good…and I know it feels even better. Look at the way that shit’s leaking f’r me. Can’t even deny it..” As enjoyable as it was eating you out and normally, he’d stay down there forever, taking in your essence and flavor but for right now..he had to fuck the shit out of you!
suddenly, you’d feel that incredible oral come to an abrupt halt and Eren rising to his feet. Keeping that grasp on your thighs, he’d land a heavy handed smack to your ass and tell you to take hold of your legs now..as he had plans. “Keep that shit open. Hold them.” Demanding as he hovered above you..hand wrapped around his shaft; slowly pumping up from the base. Between using your throat earlier and eating you out, that dick was throbbing and thumping. He needed to be inside of you immediately or he was going to burst. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. You were a puddle of dripping sex and arousal for him. With your panties dangling around your ankles and tank top pulled down, he tugged them off and stuffed the thin material into your mouth. He couldn’t lie..it looked so hot seeing you in such a vulnerable state. But you were going to need it for how hard he was about to pound your pussy. Glaring at you with a smug smirk, he’d place a hand into the center of your belly before easing his cock inside of you..which elicited a heavy grunt arising from his throat.
staring into your eyes, he’d start out with sharp, deep strokes. Ones that didn’t even allow you to adjust to before that cock began to curve up and kiss the inner corner of your cervix. His pace was already rough and somewhat sped up. He didn’t care about your feelings or how it felt. The only thing he wanted to see was a mess made of him. Whimpering through muffled lips, your head would slightly tilt back, along with those watering eyes as your skin collided; sounds of clapping flesh filling the room. It was then that you’d feel his hand creep up to the center of your scalp, tugging you down so that you were forced to see him bulging through your skin so early on.
“Take this dick. C’mon..” never breaking eye contact as he continued thrusting. His hips bucking and moving in a rhythmic motion. He had no regard for any part of you right now..you were merely a hole, a vessel for his pleasure and that was it. That smug grin on his face gave it away.. “fuck!..so deep—g’ahh..why are you fucking me like this? Shit!“ belting out in a shaky whimper through the gag of those panties as you clawed through your own skin with your fingers and palms planted to the backs of your thighs. You’d bite down on them in an attempt to quell that sensation. Feeding you yet another slap, Eren proceeded to take that comfort away by pulling it out and shoving those same fingers into your mouth. “Fucking shame it had to be like this, baby. But you asked for it. Shouldn’t have pissed me off.” Even with sweat trickling down his forehead and very obvious moans escaping his lips, he was still cocky and arrogant to a fault. Even if the grip of that fat cunt swallowing him as he slid in and out had him faltering, he’d never be so weak as to show it..not at a time like this at least. Slamming that cock balls deep; your pelvises clashing with a sheath of creamy fluid molding them together, Eren leaned all the way forward and pressed his entire body weight against you..as some sort of makeshift mating press. Your eyes locked and his lips pressing to yours.
“But imma make sure you don’t have shit else to say when I’m done.” Laughing with all faith and confidence that he could magically make this all go away. However, you were still in a bit of a confrontational mood and decided to challenge him.
“Is that right? Well shut me the fuck up then. Make me be quiet.” With that all too familiar glare in those gorgeous brown eyes of yours. The one that you gave him when you needed some act right..the one that screamed for him to do his worst. “You think your dick’s that good? Please, you don’t know what to do wi—“ Luckily, he was up for the task and you had a rude awakening coming. Snickering, Eren pulled himself up by only an inch, still letting you pop your shit and all; just enough to allow him the room to place his hand around your throat and squeeze until your tongue was hanging out. Meanwhile, his stroke had slowed to a more sporadic pace; thrusts becoming far more uneven and short, yet everyone hit your spot with precision. All the while, his jade eyes never left your own. Suddenly, he’d make good on your declaration and before you knew it…
“Well that was easy enough..what’s the matter, princess? Cat got that tongue? You were so loud earlier..cussing and yelling at me like you’ve lost your fucking mind. Where’s all that energy now? Hmm?”
suddenly, the bed would begin to jolt around..headboard slamming against the wall and the entire frame shifting under the weight of his hard thrusting. Taunting and fucking as if he were attempting to put you through the mattress! Couldn’t support your own legs anymore? No problem because all one hundred ninety five pounds of him kept you in place whilst that third leg of his drilled into your tightness, facing zero regard for the way you were shaking underneath him. The way you pawed at his six pack only to be slapped away so viciously and your jaws to be squeezed in his clutch. “Move your hand!” You couldn’t get so much as a gasp out as he continued pounding your little sex with all of his might. Cream was profusely leaking..practically dripping down that dick and sack as he kept going. Your titties were swaying around outside of that tank top, bouncing everywhere and looking so good, all for his viewing pleasure. In addition to that expression on your face as you were obviously nearing your climatic peak. He found it so funny how quickly that shift came once he got up in it.
“That’s fine. I don’t need you to do shit else but nut on this fucking dick. You can handle that, can’t you?”
you didn’t want to cave..give him the sheer satisfaction of seeing you submit but you’d be a bold face liar if you said that shit didn’t feel amazing. Especially with that hand around your neck and that thumb on your clit..stroking so gently that the minute bundle of sensitive nerves were already overstimulated. That swollen little bud twitching underneath the touch. It didn’t help matters any when he allowed a slow string of saliva to trickle down onto it either. It was blatantly obvious that you were trying to deny him that orgasm and in turn, prompt him to come instead by clamping down on his shaft but in that same breath, it was clear that his resolve was a little stronger than yours. You always had a habit of nutting quickly which would be your downfall right now.
“You can try to hold back all you want, baby but you will come f’r me. I don’t give a damn how long it takes…stubborn ass always wants to make things difficult, I swear.”
so casually pointing out one of your character flaws as he resides in your guts..something only he would do.
“Ah!—haaaaaa..fuck! Fuck you..still a pussy.”
blurting out with all the strength you could muster, along with still attempting to push him away which was, again, of no use! Instead, it only fueled him further and lengthened your punishment. Reaching down for those panties you had spat out previously, he’d rope them around your wrists and bind your hands together. It was obvious he wasn’t fond of your disrespectful outbursts or foul mouth. It was going to make it all the more fun to wreck you however!
“Yeah and you're still a dumb slut. ‘Fuck did you think this was?”
still impaling you on that cock and feeding you more slaps in the process. You were folding and fast but you’d try to maintain the little semblance of control you had but sadly, it was dwindling and before long, you’d be unable to hold back. And that moment came a tad bit too soon for your liking because only a minute later, you were gasping for breath, wrinkling around in the sheets..a stream of sticky fluids squirting all over those abs as if you had sprang a leak. It went everywhere; wetting up his six pack and pelvis, absolutely flooding the bed but he didn’t care. That’s exactly what he wanted. To see you shaking and convulsing, so needy and dependent on his cock that you couldn’t function without him. And he was well on his way to achieving that with the way he just fucked the shit out of you. It was such a powerful orgasm that you’d begin to shed tears; overstimulated from attempting to edge yourself and failing miserably. You lacked the restraint for that sort of thing but it presented the perfect teaching opportunity as he was in the mood to train you anyways on what being disobedient got you. Pulling out for a split second, he’d allow that swollen shaft and seeping mushroom tip to flap against your folds and drum out more. You were inconsolable but the worst was yet to come. Grabbing you by your hair, he’d grasp it tightly whilst hissing and chuckling in your ear.
“I break brats like you for fun, baby. Remember that.”
before kissing your temple in the most condescending way; it was true, he was the literal definition of a brat tamer and done so with pride. In another sudden movement, he’d tug you by that freshly done hair that wasn’t so fresh anymore and pull you down until he had flipped you over onto your stomach. Keeping you reigned in with that fistful of 613 wavy; dyed and toned to a deeper blonde, Eren planted a heavy hand smack to your ass as he flayed you across his lap. Demanding that you arch your back and put your ass up in the air. It was in your best interest to follow instructions but you were dead set on being defiant. If for nothing else, get the treatment you had been so desperately craving. For him to fuck that attitude out of you!
“Lemme ask you something, baby. What did you really think was going to happen when you decided to pull that little stunt? Trying to embarrass me?…”
ensuring that you had no other choice but to look him in the eye with those fingers still intertwined between your locks as he tugged your head back. You were practically panting, drooling like the fucked out little whore you were. Mouth agape and eyes glazed over whilst he stared at you.
“What? You thought I was going to ignore that shit? Or maybe you thought I’d get jealous enough to hop online and clear it up. You thought I was the rest of these lame ass dudes. You’re as stupid as you are pretty.”
Uttering the last line with vitriol before landing the hardest slap to your backside he could muster. Spanking you a couple times with the same force until you were flailing around and more tears had fallen. You were gritting your teeth, trying to maintain that mean glare you were trying so desperately to portray to make it seem as if you were not enjoying yourself. But he knew that was a lie. His heavy hands colliding with your flesh eventually began to form a burgundy blip and quite the sting. In addition to being choked, you were starting to feel it. That pleasurable pain that came with rough sex. It was the only way he could get his frustrations out on you at this point because actual harm would never be an option for him. He just wanted to teach you a lesson..
“And you’re still acting like a bitch. Mad about a lil’ instagram story—“
blurting out before he began to spank you again and clutch your throat as well. This time with enough force to make you squirm and cry some more. Making sure you didn’t talk out of turn again. “Shut the fuck up.”
he could tell you were still angry with him, still wanting to get your point across but that was all of no concern to him. He didn’t care about your bratty ass attitude. It barely even phased him. That was until he saw those pretty little streaks coming down your face and those eyes all puffy. That jaw clenched so tight, it’d probably shatter your teeth. “Ooh..don’t look at me like that. Makes my dick hard when you cry for me.” Like a true goddamn sadist…of course, those tears weren’t enough and he had plans to drum out more. Continuing to paddle you with his hand; releasing primal grunts as he spread your ass apart, kneading his fingers into your flesh and even shove his fingers back into your pussy. Meanwhile, he was still filling your mouth with sloppy kisses and more saliva. Spitting into your oral cavity with no regard. “Get up..arch that back and spread that ass open. Now.” And this time, too sore and weak to do anything else, you’d follow suit and place both hands on that round bottom, letting your acrylic nails display across that dark skin as you opened up for him. He damn near lost his composure when he saw that asshole flexing and puckering on instinct. But he had to regroup, get back into his zone and keep going.
mounting behind you, Eren hooked his fingers together, kept them around your throat and pulled you back on him once again..impaling you.
“Haaa! Fuck!—“ yelping in a high pitched cry as he fed you heavy backshots. The fat of that round, plump ass bouncing against him. Ricocheting in a haze of thunderous claps. Your legs trembled profusely, gripping on the pillows in front of you and biting down in an attempt to quell the brunt of those brutal strokes but it was no use. The curvature of your spine fluctuated as he kept going until you eventually collapsed underneath the weight and he’d bog down, planking over your entire frame as he drilled deeper. Those balls colliding with your ass and smacking against the sticky folds between your thighs. He’d place a hand to the small of your back just to keep you planted firmly whilst the other rested palm down in the memory foam material in front of you. “Oh my gosh, right there!” You’d grasp for Eren’s wrist as some sort of leverage and a sign of comfort. But he wasn’t much in the business of coddling you right now. Instead, you’d watch that opposite hand snake around for a split second to retrieve your phone that was lying next to you..set ablaze with thousands of notifications from this app and that contact. None of which were important at the moment. But he had other plans and ways to use that cellular device right now.
“You love taking pictures so much, right baby? Always showing off..”
just then, you’d see the flash of your rear camera beaming down above you and hear the sound of your video starting. He’d record each movement of your clashing skin..tugging you back, spanking your cheeks with each thrust and even when he decided to slide his thumb into your puckering hole. You’d release a shrill cry, whimpering and moaning. It didn’t take long to realize what he was doing and you immediately tried to stop him.
“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut up..you want to post everything, post this.”
taunting you with that lens pointed at your face as he began fiercely fucking up into you. So much so, that your face meshed into the pillows. Trying to look away from the camera. Drool spilling from your mouth and your eyes completely dazed..not the most aesthetically pleasing position you’ve found yourself in nor did you want the rest of the world seeing..
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
causing the two of you to begin laughing at the obvious truth. Which was far better than what was transpiring before.. “…shit..you got me.” eventually though, he’d save you from further embarrassment and let this sight be all for his own pleasure by tossing the phone aside. With your nails clawing into the sheets, (y/n) felt some semblance of control..somewhat able to gain leverage but soon, he’d take that away as well. Pulling your arms behind your back, he’d tug you up and continue drilling you from behind. Those sharp strokes were consistently hitting your core and soon enough, you were in the midst of another orgasm. Fluids puddling underneath you yet he gave you no leeway and just kept going. “Fuck..ion wanna fight with you anymore, princess. Your shit feels way too good for me to leave you alone.” Laughing as he reached underneath and massaged your clit to further increase that pressure. “Mmmph! Erennnn…I—“
it would seem that your pathetic moans had softened him just a bit because next thing you knew, he was leaning down to place kisses onto your shoulder blades and spine. “I know, baby..I know.” By now, he had you hooked into somewhat of a headlock position..almost as if he couldn’t make up his mind as to what he wanted to do with you. Perhaps that had something to do with him nearing his own climatic peak. You could feel that hard cock pulsating inside of you and soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead, his tongue out and his chest heaving..he was close. So close that he couldn’t even pretend that he was angry with you any longer. There was no more of keeping up this silly charade that you were mad. You couldn’t give up so easily..not when there was no man on this earth you wanted more. But he did have one thing to say to you, something that he was determined to drill into your head. Grasping your hair, he’d grunt into your ear..
“You’re mine, baby..you can’t leave me, alright? Promise me you’re not going anywhere..”
“I—ahh! I’m not…I’m sorry—“
“I’m sorry too, mama. Fuck!”
gasping with all that you could muster. And only seconds later, you felt him halt in his tracks and that warm fluid flowing into your womb. Letting out an ear shattering grunt, Eren pumped that nut into you and didn’t miss a beat. That hot, white load dripping from your battered cunt for the brief moment that he pulled out to switch positions..the mood had obviously shifted and the two of you were no longer at each other's throats and were instead shoving your tongues in each other’s mouths. “C’mere..give me a kiss.” Moaning and practically yearning for the other’s touch. Those hard pulls and smacks had slowed to tender grasps and Eren so lovingly brushed your face before pulling your hand along to climb on top of him. You didn’t even have time to exchange words, just tangled limb in limb as you made out in a passionate haze…feeling up your skin with his hands roaming your back and yours caressing his face. Leaving tender, warm kisses that made him melt for you all over again. With his lip quivering and eyes all glossed over, he’d glare up at you..begging for you to slide it back in as he was becoming far more spent than he hoped to admit. Even so, you’d do exactly that and place your hands on his chest in the process. “Oh my God…” “Oooh, baby..yes.” the cries leaving your mouths simultaneously as you impaled yourself on that throbbing erection. That mushroom tip splitting open your puffy folds yet again and emitting droplets of cum as it slid in. You were already full but he was hoping to stuff you to the brim. Hell, maybe he would get you pregnant tonight because that was the type of mood he was in. “This dick feels so good..I need all of it..” so desperately admitting as your ass slowly collided with his pelvis. “Take it then, baby. It’s yours.” Rocking back and forth, slowly grinding..going up and down on that cock. It took a moment to center yourself; to gain your balance but once you did, you were riding him to kingdom come. Fucking every bit of those frustrations out of him. Leaving a puddle of creamy, pearlescent fluid all over the base of his pelvis. And needless to say, he was loving every second!
“Ride that shit..oh fuck..” grunting with his arms folded behind his head as he casually enjoyed your ‘talents’. Including making circular motions..bouncing up and down as you propel yourself on his cock. His thick girth stretches you out with each one. Eventually, your head would fall backwards and you’d find yourself practically howling his name whilst still clawing at his chest. You were making an absolute mess of him and Eren was losing his mind! It was as if you were a completely different woman right now. One determined to drain him dry and milk him for every last remnant of his nut. He couldn’t slow you down, stop or even halt you right now. All he could do was toss his own head back and knead his fingers into the flesh of your ass. He’d leave a few light smacks to serve as encouragement but you needed no help whatsoever. You were in control now…
“Fuck me! Fuck me! Baby..yes.” crying out with his legs trembling and toes curling underneath you. The grip that tight little cunt had on him was about to drive this man insane and into another nut. Panting and wailing with his hands clutching your waist. Just then, he’d prompt you to sit still and let him fuck up into you..each sharp thrust hitting that sensitive core and causing yet another stream of sweet juices to come trickling down your thighs and onto his lap. But before you even had a chance to recover, he’d pull you back down and continue drilling until..
“Eren! Fuck!..”
“I’m coming, baby! Let me come in it—“
and before the sentence was completed, you were all but stuffed yet again. Letting him throb and pulsate inside of you as he emptied his seed in your womb. The two of you were clearly spent and quite honestly possessed no more energy to be angry. It was blatantly obvious that you had obviously forgiven one another as well. He ever so gently touched the side of your face yet again and glared into those gorgeous eyes. You’d lay flat against his chest and let him massage your back as well. And it’s then that he noticed a warm, dampened spot on his pecs and he’d tilt your chin up to see you sobbing. The intensity of the orgasms and the moment itself had seemed to overwhelm you quite a bit..
“Hey, princess..c’mere.” Coddling you in his grasp and hugging you tightly. He’d even cradle a palmful of your hair in his fingers and kiss your temple once more. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
and the response to his question nearly broke his heart in half. “I’m sorry..I just realized I don’t want to lose you. Do you really hate me? I know I did some stupid shit but I didn’t mean it.” And Eren nearly burst into tears himself but instead cradled you close and murmured into your ear. “..(y/n)..baby no. I could never hate you, even if I tried my hardest. I love you so much. That’s why I get so crazy behind you. Because I know there’s no one I want more.” Suddenly, he’d cup your face between his palms and plant a loving kiss on your forehead. No matter how mad you may have been at one another before or even if you screamed your lungs out, there wasn’t anything in this world that could break you apart. He had spent his entire life searching for a woman like you and there was no way that he could give it up so easily. Taking your fingers into his own, he’d clasp your fingers together..
“Do you mean that?”
“Never meant anything more in my entire life. Listen, if you ever feel neglected by me..like I’m not doing right, tell me. Please..I just wanna be the best man I can for you. I’m so sorry I ever made you feel less than your worth, princess.”
which is all it took for you to fall apart. Sniffling into his chest, you’d let Eren rub your back until he was able to console you. The two of you would just lie there; soaking in the moment and reveling in each other’s essence. Darkness had set over the room, as nighttime har set and you realized just how long you had been at it. Breaking into a soft giggle, you’d turn your face back towards him and for a few minutes, you’d just slowly let your tongues clash..exchanging sloppy kisses and practically wanting to live in one another’s skin.
“Hey, why don’t we get up from here, go take a bath and order some food? How’s that sound for you?” All of it sounded absolutely perfect to you and without question, you’d accept. He just wanted to spend all the time getting close, holding and keeping you by his side. He’d take however long you two needed to get back to the way it was. No amount of albums, Instagram posts or anything else mattered more in this world.
than the love you two shared.
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prismuffin · 1 year
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May i ask for a one shot pls.
Can it be where the reader and miles is dating, but she's been acting weird and mile finds out there is a new spider man, and its really the reader.
A/n: wow It’s been a minute since I’ve written a full fic no? Pris is almost back babyyy~
Coincidence
Miles Morales x fem!spiderman!reader
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( summary: being the new Spider-Man is hard, but hiding it from your boyfriend is harder )
!-!more under the cut!-!
You groaned as you walked through the hallway, stretching and rolling your shoulders to loosen the aching pain that spread across your entire body. You were sore, though after a night full of training how to swing around the city and stop crime you weren't the least bit surprised that it was so.
“Ayo Miles!”
The sound of your boyfriends name pulled you away from your mind as you turned towards the direction of the shout. There he was, Miles Morales, your boyfriend who you’ve been promptly ignoring for the past week and a half. You feel like shit for it but not too long ago you got bitten by a radioactive spider and became somewhat of a new Spider-Man, a Spider-Woman if you will. You’re still getting used to the new gig and the powers that come along with it and in your conflicted state you’ve been ignoring not only Miles but the rest of your friends as well.
You turned back around, not missing how his eyes barely caught yours right before you did and started walking towards your final class of the day.
Just one more class and then you could go....fight crime- after homework of course! Once again, you've been so swamped with this new Spider-Woman gig recently it's really had a terrible impact on your life. Your stress shot up after you scrambled to get your work completed so that you could train to help save the city that never sleeps. You never took that nickname more seriously in your life. It also sucks that your social life has dropped immensely. No more after school hangouts with friends let alone your boyfriend who you feel so bad for blowing off. Sometimes you think life would be better if you just cut everyone around you off but you don't want to lose them it just seems like the easy way out.
—TS—
You bolted out of your seat as the bell rang, dashing through the schools halls before the mass of students could begin to overwhelm them. You needed to get to Mays, do some calculus work, then suit up-
“Y/n!”
You shoes screeched against the floors as you stopped yourself from crashing into Miles, who stood in front of the main entrance, arms out ready to catch you if you tripped. You stopped in his arms and he firmly held you from falling forwards. You breathed heavily as you pulled back from him. "Why are you-" looking up, you winced as your senses skyrocketed, your "Spidey-senses" were activating as you looked at Miles, a sense of familiarity filled your mind.
"You're just like...-" Miles started, his eyes searching yours for any type of answer but you quickly remembered where you were supposed to be. "Miles! I-I gotta go-" You moved around him and dashed out the door, ignoring his calls for you to come back. With your backpack in hand you ran into the subway station, ready to head to May's house. She had found you initially after you'd been bitten, recognized the symptoms and took you in under her wing. She got you web-shooters and a suit and allowed you to train in the confines of the Spider-Lair.
Today was meant to be your debut! You were gonna go out, save a few civilians, meet the Spider-Man that had appeared after the original had died and make your name as Spider-Woman. But that's after you help May with her banana bread recipe.
Knocking on her door you smiled at the sight of the older woman as she opened it. She greeted you, beckoning you inside after introductions were done. The rest of your afternoon was spent finishing that calculus work and making banana bread.
After finishing both tasks were completed, you were ready to make your debut, but the doorbell had delayed that. You looked at May in confusion as she smirked and stood. "There's a slight change in plans," "what?" You wondered aloud as your eyes followed her across the room. "I wanted you to meet Spider-man first, get yourselves acquainted before I sent you out on patrols for the first time." She said as she closed in on the front door, grabbing the knob, she cleared her throat a bit before opening it. You could hear her greet someone, you could see the side of his suit so you knew it was the Spider-man. You turned away to calm yourself as the reality truly sunk in that you were about to meet spiderman, hero of New York!
May cleared her throat, "Y/n this is Miles, or Spiderman and Miles this is-" "Miles?" "Y/n?" You turned around quickly, noticing Spiderman's shocked expression as he stared at you. May's eyes flickered in between you both, her expression becoming increasingly more confused. "I knew it! I knew I felt something earlier- What is- You're a Spider-man too?!" Miles yelled, pulling his mask off near the end of his sentence. "Spider-Woman actually-" May corrected him and your heart sped up as you stared at the previously masked mans face. "I- I didn't- Miles? You're Spider-man!! And you never told me?!" You yelled in shock and he crossed his arms. "Technically I can be mad at you for the same thing." You shook your head, laughing in disbelief before a silence overtook you two.
"So, I'm guessing you both know each other than."
"She's my girlfriend-" May gasped, standing there for a moment before clapping her hands together. "This is great news! See, you both already know and care for each other so you're sure to have each others backs on the streets." You blinked and sighed at the enthusiasm of the older woman. "Let's go to the lair shall we?" She walked off, leaving you and Miles to follow her but you stopped him before he could.
"Can we just- talk for a second?" You asked and he sighed and nodded, leaning against the circular table in the kitchen. "Look I- I never meant to ignore you- well I did! But only until I figured all this stuff out. I was bit by some kind of spider, May found me and took me in, I've been training with her for a while and it's been really stressful." Miles eyebrows creased at the sight of your saddening expression. "Yeah I get what you mean, it took me a while to find a good balance." He scratched the side of his head, looking away from you for a moment. "We're still good right?" He asked and you immediately nodded, a small smile growing on your face. "Yeah we're still good Miles." You stepped closer to him and he followed your lead, grabbing you and bringing you into a solid hug before kissing the side of your cheek. You laughed as you pulled back, still holding each other comfortably. "I can't believe my boyfriend is Spider-man!" "I can't believe my girlfriend is Spider-woman!" He laughed along with you, the previous tension being forgotten as the humor swept it away.
"We probably shouldn't keep May waiting," you said, still giggling from the previous conversation. "Yeahhh good idea, lets go." You both started making your way to the backyard, and for the first time in almost two weeks, you held your boyfriends hand.
———
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Masterlist
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Text
miscellaneous fellow honest headcanons
These aren't following any prompt in particular, these are just thoughts I had when I saw the guy hammin' it up and then turning on us.
Some of these headcanons are informed by fan art I've seen and discussions I've had with friends, while others are purely me.
Curiouser and Curiouser...
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He calls people “little lads” and “little ladies”.
Fellow has a very noticeable laugh. Like, he grunts and snorts and has tears rolling down his cheeks. (He tends to laugh at others’ misery, thinking of it as “retribution” or “payback” for the injustices he has suffered himself.)
Bro shaves using a knife (yes, he shaves because he is a grown ass man) because razors are hella expensive.
He uses that cheap cologne and cakes it on THICK. This, in his mind, gives off the impression that he’s a well-off and put-together individual you should tooootally trust.
Also the type of person that lays it on thick with his words. If he’s trying to impress a date or something, he’ll shower them with so many compliments it almost seems fake. But no, he’s just the type to simp hard when he happens to be genuine 💀 most of the time he’s faking it though—
He’s very street smart, but in a way where he confuses hostile people by talking over them and acting overly friendly. They usually stuns them long enough for him and Gidel to skedaddle.
If he gets dumped, he'd be the pathetic whimpering boyfriend that begs for his ex to take him back. When they inevitably don't, he mopes all day about it.
He chain smokes and aggressively drinks as a coping mechanism on his bad days 😔 and sometimes he gambles (like, on those scratch-off cards) hoping that he'll strike it rich and buy him and Gidel a better life...
Basically, he generally does not have his shit together but tries his best to pass like someone who does (and usually succeeds at it).
Fellow appears in public wearing his full suit, but at home (ie whatever ratty temporary housing their boss found for them before they move on to the next place) he just wears a T-shirt and lounges around in boxers (and sometimes socks with holes in them).
He uses those disposable eyeshadow wands that snap in half at the slightest bit of too much pressure. Fellow acts like the Claire’s kid makeup he uses is the luxury stuff, but Vil can tell the pigmentation isn’t all there and there’s MAD fallout.
He may be broke AF and have his moments of emotional spiraling, but he has pretty decent budgeting skills. Fellow lives for sales and does extreme couponing to stretch their money as far as it will go.
He invests in other cost-saving methods like wearing shoes until the sole is literally flopping off and just adding water to residual soap in a pump bottle to make the soap "last longer".
Fellow is really good at cutting food (bread, beans) thin to conserve it. Yes, this is a reference to an old Mickey Mouse cartoon—
When he was younger, he had dreams of being an actor (and, more specifically, starring in musicals). That's why he's often humming, swinging around his cane, and/or whistling as he's on the prowl for idiots to sucker—they're remainders of his thespian days before his dreams were crushed into itty bitty pieces.
Man looks like he'd be great at tap dancing.
Before his current gig, he tried a bunch of other scams including a MLM at one point to get by. His signature spell came in pretty clutch in those days too.
Fellow’s not that good at reading or spelling—in fact, he was never a particularly strong student. (“I didn’t fail school!! The schools failed ME!!”) He’s easily frustrated by academics and thinks there should be more hands-on and practical skills taught in learning institutions.
I think it's a given that he and Ruggie would be besties since they both want to eat the rich but I also think Fellow would kiss ass to Azul and then rage about how shitty + entitled Azul is (Azul reminds Fellow of his boss)💀 Scammers hate other scammers because they're both competing to scam the same people--
Even though Fellow is an asshole to most others (well, when he’s not flattering them to lure them into a trap), he’s always nice to Gidel and puts him first. If there’s ever a situation where they’re short on something (clothes, food, etc), Gidel gets priority. This is why Gidel has a full outfit (even if parts are patches or mismatched) whereas Fellow himself has a glove that is so worn out there’s a hole in one of the pinkie fingers.
Fellow may not be blessed with a bounty of magic, but he’s quick on his feet and good with words. Because of these skills, he’s talented at spinning bedtime stories, which he often tells to Gidel to help him fall asleep on nights that are particularly cold and nasty.
Gidel still believes in Santy Claws and wishing upon stars, and Fellow doesn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. He’ll figure it out on his own one day, Fellow thinks. He just doesn’t want to be the one to ruin those childhood joys for him.
Playing pretend is another shared past time of theirs. It helps Fellow get into character before he goes off to swindle people, and it gives Gidel a way to express himself in spite of being mute. They have a routine they do together where Fellow pretends to be a doctor diagnosing a patient and Gidel takes down notes for him as his medical scribe. Yes, this is a Pinocchio reference—
They actually have many more games they play (mainly because they cannot afford other forms of entertainment). Some of the games are clever ruses conjured by Fellow to teach Gidel survival tips and tricks: the who-can-make-their-piece-of-bread-last-longer game, hide-and-seek (from the authorities), etc.
For special occasions, Fellow saves up some money on the side to grant Gidel little luxuries, like a box of crayons to doodle with.
Gidel hugs Fellow’s leg or waist to cheer him up when he’s upset. He also hides behind Fellow when he’s scared or feeling shy.
He’s just really attached to Gidel cuz they have no one else in this cruel world, just them against the world 😔 He sees a lot of his younger self in the little boy… the opportunities lost because of their circumstances… “It’s alright, Gidel. Leave it to Fellow-sama.”
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glitteredrry · 1 year
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GQ couples quiz
summary: Y/N quizzes Harry to test if he’s truly been paying attention during their relationship.
warnings: fluff
wc: 700+
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“Greetings, I’m Y/N.”
“And my name’s Harry,” He cut in, eyeing the camera with a bright smile.
“Today we’re doing,” I said looking over to Harry to get our timing correct.
“The GQ couples quiz,” we said at the same time. We held up our hands in the air, silently cheering that we got it right.
“Are you ready?” I asked him pretending to be being more serious than I could ever possibly be around him.
“Hit me with all the questions, bunny.” He said confidently while adjusting himself in the seat.
Clearing my throat, I looked at the cards that GQ prepared for us trying to get ready to speak. “Mr. Styles, what is my full name?”
Harry pondered and teasingly hit his head as if he could not remember, “I think your name is Y/N Y/L/N. You weren’t given a middle name like us common folk.” I let out a laugh throwing the card in the air moving to the next one.
“What was the name of my first pet? For bonus points, what kind of animal was it?” I squinted my eyes at him because truthfully I believe that I’ve only mentioned it once. The time that I did mention it, we were at the beginning of our relationship.
“It was a cheeky name, I can’t think of the name. But I’m positive that it was a guinea pig.” My eyebrows shot up in surprise while I smiled. I can’t believe he remembered the animal.
“I’m shocked you remembered good job baby-”
“Sargent tater tot!” He interrupted excitingly remembering the silly name I picked out at six years old.
“GQ give him all the points you can, I told you that like the first month of our relationship. How did you remember?” He shrugged his shoulders confidently.
“I’ve just got better memory skills than your average person. Next question, bunny.” He said while giving me a small laugh.
“How did we first meet?”
“Easy. You went to a show of mine with a dear friend of mine. We got acquainted backstage, you fell madly in love with me. The rest is history.” I turned my head to the camera, giving it a moment of silence.
“That is how we met, Y/N.” He called out, breaking the silence.
“No, it’s not! You just don’t remember, but we met when you were performing at the Victoria Secret fashion show. I was an invited guest.”
“Oh, that doesn’t count. I didn’t even get the chance to speak to you! We only said hi.” He was right, that night he was the center of attention and we didn’t get a proper greeting. It still counted to me.
“I say let’s give him a half a point.”
“Deal.” He agreed to it, even though I could tell the competitive part of him wanted the full point.
“How many years have we’ve been together?”
“Three long, long, long,” he said looking at the camera as I laughed at his theatrics. “Loving years.” He ended up saying; causing everyone in the studio to awe. He shook his head nodding with a small smile, soaking in the attention his answer was getting him.
“Let’s go to the next question, you little attention seeker.” Harry bursted out in a cackle at me calling him out in-front of everyone.
We ran through the questions, making everyone in the room fawn over our relationship. Harry’s eyes never left mine, and him getting all the correct answers caused a bright blush to never leave my cheeks. Laughs went across the room as we told some antidotes that were behind each answer. The room calmed down as we approached the final question of the video.
“So far, you’ve had a winning streak,” I said to him, causing Harry to give himself a slight pat on the back.
“Are you ready for the final question, babe?”
“This is a lot of pressure, give me a moment.” He took a dramatic, drawn out deep breath as if he was meditating. “I’m ready.”
“What was the very first, and I do mean the first professional gig I had?” My career as an actor began before I could even count to three. My first acting gig was different from my first professional gig in the industry.
“You’ve been acting your whole life…but when you were six months old?” He said questioning the age. “Yes, six months you modeled for Gap?” He said still unsure of his answer.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a winner! Harry Styles, come on up and claim your prize.” Harry shot up celebrating as he walked over to my directors chair to plant a kiss on my lips.
“My man knows me well,” I said to the room, causing them to laugh. Harry began to hug me, not caring about the cameras being there.
“GQ, we are Harry and Y/N. Thanks for having us.”
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rubycruzin4abruzin · 1 month
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never been (stage) kissed
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Summary: After years of being a struggling actress in Los Angeles, you finally land your big break! The only problem is, you’ve been cast opposite your longtime celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz. What will you do when the director demands a kiss between the two of you?
Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader
Contains: mature language, small amount of adult humor, kissing, fluff, thigh touching, in depth details of Hollywood movie shooting, anxious!reader, publicity tweets and comments, ruby being the sweetest girl EVER
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction. I’ve included a mass disclaimer of RPF guidelines here. Make SURE to click the link before reading, it’s extremely important for the safety of all Real People involved in this fiction.
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You stared at the movie script in your hand, biting your lip to stop from squealing. After being in Los Angeles for the past five years, you had finally landed your big break.
You had known that you wanted to act ever since your mother signed you up to be a munchkin in a community theatre production of “The Wizard of Oz.” Of course, being a stubborn elementary schooler, you fought her on it, saying the songs were “stupid” and the costumes were “itchy.” But as soon as opening night came, and the lights hit your face, you put on a smile and celebrated the death of the Wicked Witch like it was something you’d been waiting for your entire life.
After the song's last note, deafening applause echoed around the theater, causing adrenaline to course through your veins. In that moment, you decided to spend the rest of your life chasing that feeling.
When you reached middle school, you joined their drama department, taking theatre as an elective class while occasionally participating in the school plays. Once high school rolled around, you began to take some of the more advanced classes, and even competed in a couple One-Act Play competitions. A lot of the people you started taking classes with eventually got bored and left to pursue other hobbies, but over the years you just fell more and more in love with acting, and became completely dedicated to your craft.
Instead of attending college, after you graduated high school you packed up whatever you needed and moved across the country to a small town about half an hour away from Los Angeles. The area was slightly sketchy, your apartment was small, and you had to work two jobs while sharing with four other roommates just to make rent.
Los Angeles kinda… sucked. But you had stars in your eyes and couldn’t be happier.
Unfortunately, you were kind of in for a rude awakening once audition season rolled around. Back in high school, you would book leads left and right. Now, it seemed like the only gigs you could book were background work, maybe a role in a rinky-dink student film if you were lucky. You always took what you could get, but you longed for something that could get your foot in the door.
One day, one of the short films you starred in entitled “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” got entered into some film festival, and not only did it win an award you couldn’t remember the name of, it ended up going viral on YouTube, and not in a bad way either. Your performance in that film was astounding.
Plus, not that this was the sole reason the film blew up, but as an actress in your early 20’s who tended to take care of herself, you were kind of… well… hot.
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Suddenly, you were getting recognized in public, signed with an agency, and landing more notable roles. You were featured in a music video for an up-and-coming country artist, booked a commercial for a costume makeup company (in which you brought back your look from “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens”), and even starred in three episodes of a new series on HBO Max.
Just when you thought life couldn’t get any better, one day you were coming back from what was either your third or fourth audition of the day, when you got a call from your agent on the drive home. You groaned, almost certain she was calling to schedule another “last-minute” audition. Sure you appreciated how hard she worked to get you booked, but you were also so tired after a long day.
To your surprise, when you picked up the phone, she ecstatically announced that you had booked a huge role.
In a feature film.
Starring alongside your celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz.
You had to pull over on the side of a highway to keep from swerving out of excitement.
Ruby had been your celebrity crush since you saw her in the Disney+ series “Willow.” Her masculine ambience, her devil-may-care attitude, and the way she swung her sword had you absolutely drooling. Somehow, you finished the entire series in two days, and immediately ran to IMDB to add Every Single Thing she’s been in to your watch list.
Now, you stood in front of the building where your first read-through was supposed to take place, the script for “Aliens of Atlantis” resting in your shaking hands. You gulped as you pushed open the door, wondering how you were going to keep your cool around Ruby when the very thought of her practically sent you into cardiac arrest.
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Walking into the reading room, you were met with several chairs arranged into a circle and sounds of chatter from the other actors. You recognized a few of them from some smaller projects, even recognizing one from a movie that had come out the previous year. Your eyes scanned the room for Ruby, heart beating out of your chest when they landed on the back of a choppy brunette bob.
When Ruby turned around, you swore her blue eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights. She caught you staring at her from across the room, and shot you a wide toothy smile before walking over to you.
“Hey,” she started. “You must be Zephyra.”
You blinked at her. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Zephyra.” She repeated. “You’re playing the alien queen of Atlantis, right?”
She furrowed her eyebrows at you slightly and tilted her head, worried she may have gotten you mixed up with someone else.
Her words clicked in your head, finally. “Oh! Yes! I’m playing the role of Zephyra.”
Ruby’s smile returned as she let out a lighthearted chuckle. You swallowed, trying to keep your cool. You still had trouble wrapping your mind around the fact that you were standing in front of the Ruby Cruz, and having a semi-successful conversation.
She stuck out her hand, offering a handshake. “Hi, I’m Ruby. I’m playing Calantha.”
You took her hand, electric shocks vibrating through your body at her touch. “Nice to meet you.”
After removing her hand (much to your displeasure), she turned to walk back over to her seat, but not before flashing you a smile over her shoulder. “Can’t wait to work with you!”
God, why did she have to be so cool?
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The table read went fairly well, in your opinion. The movie was about Calantha, an underwater adventurer, finding the lost city of Atlantis during an expedition. Once there, she finds the city being ruled by aliens who’s spaceship crashed near the area about 100 years ago. Calantha finds Zephyra, the alien queen, who makes her promise to keep their secret, and in return, Calantha will help her run the city.
You were playing Zephyra, of course, since being in “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” proved you looked hot even in otherworldly makeup. You kind of thought there might be some romantic or even sexual tension between Calantha and Zephyra, but you brushed it off as you thought that might not be the artistic intention.
Once filming started, your days were basically exclusively spent on set. Not that you were complaining, you loved every second. Even after coming home at 1am when you left for work at 6am, a blissful smile would be painted across your tired face.
The only thing that bothered you was that you barely ever got to talk to Ruby on set. It was more your fault than hers. Every time you two were working together, your brain short circuited and you couldn’t get out anything more than a few dim-witted babbles. Ruby was always so sweet about it though, always lightheartedly chuckling at your barely-comprehensible speech, sometimes even giving your upper arm a squeeze if you felt especially nervous.
You knew she meant well, but any touch from your celebrity crush was sure to do the opposite of calming you down.
One day, during a filming session, you and Ruby were meant to be sitting especially close to each other. You were sure you felt some romantic tension between the two characters, but you chalked it up to your crush on the actress and tried to downplay it. The director, however, seemed very frustrated today, this was the nineteenth take of this particular scene and he still wasn’t happy.
“Cut!” He yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh as you and Ruby turned your attention towards him.
“Everything alright, sir?” Ruby asked, making you glad you weren’t the only one who noticed his irritation.
“This scene… it’s missing something.” He brought his hand to his chin and squinted at the both of you. “Do we think we could add a kiss? Right here?”
Your heart stopped, and all the moisture disappeared from your mouth.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t kissed people before. You had your fair share of dates back in high school, that wasn’t the problem.
You’ve kissed, but you’ve never stage kissed.
Sure you had plenty of acting experiences, but the roles you played never required kissing. Instead of playing Aurora, you made a fabulous Maleficent. While Elle Woods locked lips with Emmett, you were busy portraying a hilarious Paulette. And of course, nobody wants to make out with a zombie prom queen.
You had no idea if there was any difference between actual kisses and stage-kisses. Obviously, sex scenes in movies weren’t real. But kisses? What if there is a difference and you go to kiss Ruby on camera and make her uncomfortable? What if she pushes you away? What if she gets mad? You don’t know how you’d recover from something like that, and your mind swarmed with plans to flee the country if that did happen.
Ruby opened her mouth to answer the director, before looking at you for confirmation and noticing your overly-panicked state. She sent you a reassuring smile, and placed a gentle hand on your back.
She turned to the director. “Could we pick this up after lunch? I think my scene partner and I have some things to discuss.”
The director agreed, and since it was still about thirty minutes to lunch, decided to use that time to record some “room noise.” You and Ruby were meant to sit still and quietly, the only thing you heard being the echo of your heartbeat in your ears.
Suddenly, you received a text notification, causing sound to go off and the director to groan and shoot you an annoyed look. You mumbled a quick “sorry” before switching your phone to vibrate and looking to see who texted you.
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After wolfing down a sandwich from the craft services table, you stood in front of the trailer with Ruby’s name on the door, wringing your clammy hands while deciding whether or not to knock. You took a deep breath, raised your knuckles, and knocked three times, taking a step back after.
She answered almost immediately, staring down at you with a comforting grin. “Hey, come on in.”
Walking up the stairs and into Ruby’s trailer, you couldn’t help but notice how much cleaner it was than yours. You weren’t necessarily sloppy, but your vanity was covered in various bottles of blue face paint, while your floor held multiple alien-like prosthetics. Ruby’s was tidier, with a small couch pushed up against the wall, and her vanity holding nothing but some makeup basics and a half-full can of Dr. Pepper she had been drinking right before you walked in.
Ruby took a seat in her vanity chair and took a sip from her Dr. Pepper, motioning for you to sit on the small couch. “What’s going on? You didn’t seem too comfortable with the kissing scene.”
You gulped, staring down at your lap. “It’s not that…”
Ruby sat up, leaning forward to gawk at you. “Oh my god… have you never been kissed?”
“What? No! Of course I have…” you trailed off. “I just… I’ve never stage kissed before, and I know you have, so is it any different from regular kissing? I feel so stupid for asking and I’m so sorry but I didn’t wanna do it wrong while filming and I’m kinda embarrassed that I don’t know the answer so that’s why I wanted to ask you privately because I didn’t wanna fuck up…”
Ruby stared at you, silent and wide eyed. You felt your heartbeat in your ears as you tried to decipher what she was thinking. Suddenly, she threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh. Your heart sank. Here you were being awkward and vulnerable in front of your crush, and she was laughing at you.
Just before you decided to get up and walk out, Ruby calmed down, wiping away a tear and smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not making fun of you. I didn’t mean to laugh, really. You’re just so cute.”
You felt your cheeks burn at her words. She thinks you’re cute?
Ruby threw her soda away in a nearby trash can and moved to sit next to you on the small couch. She criss-crossed her legs, turning to face you while pondering how to answer your question.
“So… stage kisses are different from regular kisses, but they’re also not, you know? Like, we’re kissing but we’re not like… kissing.”
She peered over at you, studying your facial expressions. You looked more confused than ever, so she continued her explanation.
“So, if you’re asking if my lips will physically be on your lips… then the answer is yes, they will. But they’re not exactly like the real thing, because it’s more of a demonstration to the audience rather than an act of passion between two people.”
“A demonstration?” You cocked your head. Ruby nodded.
“Yeah, so say the camera was over there…” she pointed out in front of you. “…then you might cup my jaw, or cradle the back of my head. But if you were to grab my face or something like that, it’d look pretty awkward in a fifty-fifty profile shot.”
You nodded in understanding. “Ok… I think I get what you’re saying.”
“There are also different types of kissing.” Ruby continued. “Like, it should portray how your character feels about the other character. When Zephyra has scenes with Calantha, how does she feel?”
You gulped, focusing on your lap again. “Well, to be honest, it kinda feels like there’s a lot of romantic or sexual tension between our characters, but I’ve sort of been suppressing it because I’m not sure that was the intention.”
“But you feel like Zephyra is attracted to Calantha sexually?” Ruby asked. You nodded. “Great! You don’t necessarily have to make it explicit, but something like that can help you dive deeper into your character.”
Ruby scooted closer to you, taking your hands in hers. She gazed at you with half lidded eyes, causing your breathing to accelerate.
“I want you to kiss me.”
Ruby’s words barely resonated in your head, there was no way you heard her correctly. “You… huh?”
“For practice.” Ruby clarified, letting go of your hands. “Like you would during filming. Is that ok?”
An involuntary swallow forced itself down your throat as you nodded. You couldn’t believe you were about to kiss your celebrity crush, even if it was only for practice.
You pressed your hand into her warm cheek, pulling her close and quickly pecking her lips before retreating away. Your face burned from embarrassment while Ruby cocked her head, clearly confused.
“That’s it?” She asked. “My bad, I didn’t realize Calantha was your grandmother.”
Ruby moved closer and cradled the back of your head, entangling her fingers into your soft locks. You felt your hands sweat as her big blue eyes gazed into yours. “I was thinking maybe something more like this…”
She crashed her lips into yours, causing warmth to explode in your chest. Her fingers played with your hair as you began to kiss back, and your arms wrapped around her waist. Holy shit could she kiss! You could barely fathom how soft her lips were, tasting faintly of Dr. Pepper and vanilla lip balm. As hard as you tried to act professional and pretend there was a camera in front of you, every inch of your body screamed at you to succumb to your most primal instincts.
You lifted one hand from her waist and moved to rest it on her mid-thigh, causing a gentle moan to escape from her lips and a shiver to run down her body. Startled, you moved back, throughly convinced that you majorly fucked up.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, pulling back your hand like it had touched fire. “I wasn’t thinking, fuck. I got too swept up in the moment. I shouldn’t have touched you, that was completely unprofessional.”
“Hm…?” Ruby blinked, still in a daze. “Oh. Oh! You’re good! Don’t be sorry. I liked it. Really.”
Ruby grinned at you shyly. You stared back at her, a question you weren’t quite sure how to ask lingering at the tip of your tongue. “Ruby, are we still… practicing?”
Her smile faded as her eyes went wide, her gaze dropping to her lap. It was her turn to be coy, a sight you’d never seen before.
She dropped her voice to a low whisper as she choked out her question. “Do you want to be?”
Before you could even open your mouth to answer, your phone alarm screeched from your jacket pocket. You took it out, groaning as you turned it off.
Ruby furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “What was that?”
“My alarm,” you answered. “I have to go.”
“But lunch isn’t over for another twenty minutes.” Ruby pointed out, trying to hide her disappointment.
“Yeah, but I have to head back early so they can touch up my makeup and fix my prosthetics.”
Ruby sighed in understanding. She supposed your costume might have a bit more upkeep than hers. Your prosthetics did look a little wonky after the lunch break, never mind your smudged blue lipstain that made her apprehensive to look in a mirror.
You collected yourself and turned to walk out, but looked over your shoulder before opening the door. “Uhm… Ruby?”
“Hm?” She answered.
You wrung your hands anxiously. “Do you think we could maybe… do this again? Sometime?”
Ruby’s head shot up to look at you, and a playful smile spread across her face. “Do what? More kissing lessons?”
You rolled your eyes as she chuckled, then gave you a lopsided grin. “I’d like that. Lunch again, tomorrow?”
A blush pink color sprinkled across the apples of your cheeks as you smiled back at her, trying your best to stay cool and suppress the giddy feeling that was bubbling inside of you.
“See you then.”
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ᵤₙfₒᵣₜᵤₙₐₜₑₗy ₛₘᵢₜₜₑₙ ₍ₘₐfᵢₐ bₒₛₛ! Gₒⱼₒ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ₎
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Summary: Life leads you to treacherous roads after deciding to enter the dangerous life you knew well not to follow.Having gojo by your side inviting you deeper and deeper into all that’s wrong in the world, inciting you to be selfish and carefree wasn’t supposed to be to your liking, so why do you shiver with adrenaline every time he decides to be the devil on your shoulder?
Contents: Mafia boss gojo x secretary reader.(civilian au ig)
-Secret crush Gojo!
-Yandere Gojo
Gojo being an egocentric bitch! Wealthy gojo! X no nonsense reader.
Warnings: trigger warning if you’re not interested in anything mafia related. The narration of this story is inspired by Latin and Asian mafia. Violence and use of blood!
Wc:1.8k
🏷:@busyreader17 @starlight5cat @xavlyzn
(Idk If I was supposed to tag y’all in the new chapter, sorry if it bothers you but I’m kinda new to this whole fanfic tumblr thing 🙈🫶🏻)
Chapter 4
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As the busy Shanghai nightlife contrasted your gloominess with its vibrant lights and loud people, you allowed your anger to fuel your fast-paced steps to lead you to your destination.
What destination exactly?
Well…
You didn’t know just yet.
Before you could notice you got lost in the beautiful chaos that is this city, a city where you know no one and all you have on yourself is your cellphone. As you stood still thinking about what your next move should be, then you suddenly smiled at yourself as you remembered you somehow managed to lose that long-legged freak about two blocks ago.
That peace is shortly interrupted as you feel a cold finger touch your shoulder from the Back.
-“I Know I have made a mistake and I’ll accept any punishment that doesn’t include you leaving my side. That one is the most unbearable of them all.”-He muttered as he looked down unable to face your distraught expression.-“Plus did you really think you’d lose me after springing some blocks?”- He said as he returned his gaze to yours.-“ I always come back you know. And for you specifically, I’ll even crawl back if it’s necessary.”
To you it sounded like a joke but you would be surprised if you knew what he was capable of doing for your love.
All you could do was give him a disgusted look as you responded.
-“You make me sick, what’s your fucking problem?! You dare to almost put me and jail and then you show up high and mighty begging for forgiveness?? Why should I forgive you? All you’ve caused me are problems and to your discontent, I’m finally done with all of this.”
He showed a displeased expression as he noticed you didn’t care for his sincere apology, but he wasn’t gonna let this slide so he pulled you into an abandoned alleyway with the hopes that you could talk better.
-“Let go of me! I’m not going anywhere with you.”-you blurted out as you smacked his hand away.
-“Please just hear me out, if you're not content with my apology I’ll let you go.”- He lied through his teeth as he showed you his puppy eyes.He was putting his life on the line with this acting gig , he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you decided to abandon him.
You glare at him in a distrusting matter, but as you recall he’s never been dishonest right up to this moment. So you lower your claws and follow him to where he wants to go.
-“If I’m being honest with you I’m not used to treating normal people like you, I’m used to treating thugs who wouldn’t give a damn if they lost everything in a second. So I could say that I did what I did thinking you wouldn’t care for much for it, now l know it’s not an excuse and I’ll have you know that I take full responsibility for my actions and that I-“
Gojo was interrupted during his speech by a rustle at the entrance of the alleyway.
The next thing you know a beer bottle is being thrown next to your head, you can’t help but scream out and duck to the floor trying to process what just happened, your boss turns as he feels for something under his coat, scanning the area for danger.
As the steps, Drew closer a group of 3 tough -looking guys stomped in, each of them playing with a different weapon in their rough scarred hand. As they targeted the two of you with their eyes the tallest who seemed to be the leader ultimately spoke.
-“Finally I catch you two alone, sorry to break up your lover's quarrel but me and that albino bastard have some business to tend to. So I’ll let a fine lady like yourself leave, but you.”- He spat out as he pointed a flick knife directly at gojo.-“But since this cheating mother fucker doesn’t know how to respect my boss’s territory. I guess I’ll have to teach this preppy son of a bitch some respect.”
You looked up at Gojo for some sort of response but all he did was stare at the offender as if he knew something the other party didn’t. As if this confrontation was an opportunity instead of an inconvenience. An opportunity to let go of all of his pent-up frustration, an opportunity to let all his raw, nasty feelings out after caging them up for a gentleman-like facade for your pretty self.
-“3 against one. Your boss’s a bitch for sending you all to do this.”-Gojo said as he looked around for something, as soon as he found what he was looking for his eyes sparkled. He crouched down and cuffed up his charcoal grey suit up to his elbows revealing a tattoed forearm twisted with black and white thorns.
As the tall figure in front of you grasped a long metal tube; he flexed his veins in the dim night light. In your time meeting him you never thought that he had all that ink under those tailored designed suits.
-“Awww how cute gonna defend your girlfriend? If you feel the odds against you; we’ll let her join, we won’t be too hard on her.”-The offender slurred as he looked at your trembling frame, hugging your knees as if you could hide like a ball.
Cold sweat adorned your forehead as you pondered the chances of getting out of this one alive, you couldn’t yell out for help or call trusty Geto without the gangster knowing. All you could do was pray that Gojo could land a hard punch and that your quivering knees wouldn’t give up on you if you managed to run away.
Next, their leader clenched his sticknife firmly in his hand as he launched forward at Gojo, but to your surprise, your boss swung back the metal stick as if it was a baseball bat that then struck the poor man’s head; his head bounced at impact, the force of the hit forcing his body to slum against the brick wall.
-“Gojo!”-You yelled out in horror with the hopes that all this nightmare and suffering would end in a second.
-“Sorry baby, please turn away. Who hits first; hits hardest.”-Grumbled the icy-eyed man as he looked back at you for a split second he wore the biggest smile on his blood-splattered face.
As soon as they saw their leader down the two henchmen tried to attack Gojo but before they could get close enough your knight in rusted armor whacked the pole against oh the guy's stomach causing him to hit the ground in excruciating pain as he grasped his stomach, next thing you know the other guy has his knees shattered as is now sobbing as he clutches his legs, rolling in pain.
You didn’t want this, this isn’t what you had planned, all you wanted to do was explore the city, but before you could continue to lament yourself as you lay there in shock looking at the agonizing figures before you. The noise of the metal stick hitting the ground interrupts you. Slowly your boss starts to get closer and soon you smell the blood reek on his tux.
Before he could say anything you lunged to hug his built torso as you cried into his chest smearing mascara all over the expensive cloth, he felt his heart flutter at the feeling of having you all on him in a disheveled matter. And as soon as he hugged you back, all the chaos was worth it for him. He would beat up as many guys as necessary just so he could sense your small frame quiver under his touch as you looked for solace in him.
And if you were being honest, you hated to admit it but you felt protected and cared as he combed your hair with his slender fingers. Your cheeks blushes as he planted a chaste kiss on the crown of your head.
Sniffing his cologne mixed with sweat and blood wasn’t all that bad if he continued to Pat you back with one hand as he swaddled your face with the other. Maybe you were taking advantage of the situation but your heart felt full and warm as he coddled you in his arms.
But as if god heard you and punished you for your thoughts he promptly stepped away to look into your teary eyes and say.
-“C'mon princess, we gotta leave this place.”
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
It is currently 12 am and you are back at the villa, as you try to comprehend all that just happened, Gojo swipes a warm wet cloth across your face attempting to remove your ruined makeup. The bed sunk under his weight as he carefully tugged your eyelashes under the damp towel to get you as clean as possible as he sat beside you in clean fresh sweat.
Geto stands beside him as the guilt eats him up for not protecting you as he should have.
All he did was run to your rescue as soon as his best friend gave him your location. But in the end, all he felt like was a useless piece of shit, as he stared at your puffy eyes his cell phone rang in his pocket, he then promptly exits the room putting the bowl on the nightstand so he could take the call and not bother you any further.
As your boss notices you start to yawn, he quickly stands up to cover you with a fluffy blanket that is laid at your bed rest.
-“I feel pathetic, You're the one that saved mebut here you are tending to me.”-You mumbled as you looked up at him with doe eyes.
He just grinned and patted your head.
-“I was the one who put you in that mess, so in the end I hope you find forgiveness in your heart for an idiot like me.”- He responded as he scratched his undercut.
You managed to let out a chuckle.
-“You saved my life, I guess we can call it even then.”- Even though it cost you to say that in the end he deserved it. You knew what kind of business you were getting into , and even though he lied to you, he defended you like nobody would. But you still had it crystal clear that is he slipped up again , you would be a goner
His heart melted as those compassionate words left your mouth, he knew he wasn’t worthy of forgiveness. But as you indulged his sins he couldn’t help but love you more than yesterday. He knew he was in debt to you, and it just so happened that he was a man who liked to pay his dues, so he promised to himself that he wouldn’t let anyone including himself hurt you. Even if it meant following you around the world like a shadow, he was willing to make that “sacrifice”.
-“Well after hearing you say that; I guess I can sleep in peace tonight. Goodnight sweet thing.”-He voiced as he rubbed your cheek with his callous thumb.
As he turned to head to the door, your small hand pinched the back of his shirt to his attention. He swiftly turns around and he raises an eyebrow in a playful matter as he waits for you to voice out your need that stopped him from heading to his bedroom.
-“Can you stay here with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”
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A/n: omg that was crazy , I tried to write this chapter as realistically as possible since I haven’t been in a gang fight yet but if I am I’ll confirm or deny the readers pov. I hope you guys enjoyed it and if you have any comments or request please let me know it really motivates me to hear back from you guys. Till next week kisses!! 💋🥰♥️ I’ll finish editing the font tomorrow it’s 3am as I’m writing this I’m so sleepy zzzz
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rebelliousstories · 6 days
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My Baby Shot Me Down
Relationship: Cooper Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: No
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Age Gap
Word Count: 1,163
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Part Two of: Ex Lover’s Lover
Summary: After a stint on set, Cooper has to call into question whether or not being a relationship is beneficial for her.
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“What is he doing here?” Walking onto the set of the newest western film, that was not what she had expected to hear as Cooper was by her side. Looking over at the side of the set, she noticed that there were two women right next to one another.
“Why else? That’s his sugar baby. Don’t know if I even want to be in a film with a man selling the end of the world.” She tried to tune the two women out, and focus on their director, but it was difficult. Of course not everyone was going to happy with his previous gigs, but a check was a check at the end of the day. Cooper was trying to do better now that he was divorced and moving on with his life.
“Darlin’, you listening?” Howard shook the women slightly, which brought her back to the present.
“Yes, sorry. A bit distracted today. My apologies.” She said with a bashful look on her face as she was caught slipping away mentally.
“All good,” the director reassured, “well, if we have no questions, shall we get started?”
And with that, the film was underway. There was a lot of fun on that set for her; being able to act alongside her lover was always a joy. But there was one dark cloud that hung over them. The two women from earlier. They were playing the local ladies of the night in the film, which she found laughable given her current stance on them. Every so often, when they thought they could get away with it, their snide comments slipped through.
“You’re way too young for him.” One of them whispered, sliding a tray of fake drinks over to her to “serve.” She knew that the dialogue would not be heard in the final film, but that did not mean that she did not hear it in the moment.
“You’re just a trophy to him.” Another snide comment as one of the woman passed in front of her on the corner of the little town the had created.
“He deserves someone better.” Yet another chink in her armor.
“He’ll get bored with you soon.”
“Cut!” The director called. She barely had a chance to react when they walked away. Calling it a day for the set, she could feel the tears of frustration boil up in her, but she refused to let them fall. Shoving them down, she felt the eyes of those women on her as she bid the director and staff goodnight, and walked alone to her trailer.
A frustrated sigh left her body the second the door was shut. She leaned against the door and slid down. The feelings from the day welled up inside of her; all the stress, anxiety, sadness, just everything. As she stood from the floor, tears started falling from her eyes as she moved to the pull out couch on the opposite wall. She was thankful that she had the forethought to change from her costume before coming back to her trailer all together.
Suddenly, there came a knock at the door, which prompted the woman to stand back up. All she wanted right now was a good cry and maybe some chocolate covered treats, and to finish her evening with a nice cuddle with her lover; but all that would have to wait. She was pleasantly surprised that when she opened the door Cooper was on the other side. He smiled up at her from the bottom of her trailer steps, but it immediately dropped when he saw the look on her face.
“Oh darlin’. What’s wrong?” Cooper pushed his way inside and shut the door behind him. Scooping her up in his arms, he maneuvered them over to the couch where she had once sat.
“Nothing’s wrong. What makes you say that?” She asked in between sniffles. Her lover, on the other hand, was not looking like he was convinced.
“Now you might do well on the stage and screen, but you can’t act your way out of a wet paper bag when it comes to me. Tell me what’s wrong. It’ll make you feel better.” His hands rubbed soothing circles in her shoulders and back, while his voice remained soft.
“Just something someone said today. It’s nothing, Coop.” Trying to brush it off, she settled herself into his arms. This was just what she needed after today.
“I need to know what was said, honey. Otherwise, it’ll fester in that pretty little head of yours.” He replied, pressing a kiss to said head. With her head in his chest, she shook it, causing Cooper to sigh deeply.
“I’ll use tactics to get the information out of you.” His hand was poised and ready to go over her ribs.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Tell me.”
“No. it’s nothing.”
“Alright. You asked for it.” Before she could move out of the way, his hand had descended upon her stomach and began to tickle her. She giggled at first, and soon it turned into full bore laughter as she tried to squirm away from the offending hand. Howard let up for just a moment while staring down at his lover who was panting slightly.
“Tell me, or it’s round two.” He warned, keeping his hand ready to go.
“It’s just, some of the women on set were saying how I was too young for you. That you’d get bored of me sooner rather than later. I don’t know, it just bothered me to think about all day.” She finally admitted, fiddling with a spot on Cooper’s shirt. His hand dropped, and it, instead, brought her chin up to look at him.
“That’s why you forgot your lines today?” He asked ridiculously. She rolled her eyes at him, yet chose not to answer.
“Baby, you are young for me.” That just felt like a stab to the heart. This was it. This was when he finally got bored of her like everyone said.
“But I love that about you.” Looking up into his eyes, she was surprised to hear that come out from him.
“I don’t care if people see us and think to themselves that you’re in it for the money. I’m not going to get bored of you. You pulled me from my darkest point, sweetheart, and for that I thank you.” The longer he spoke, the more she saw love swell in his eyes.
“Let them talk. They’re just jealous that they ain’t us. We can’t control what other people say about us, but we can control how we react. Don’t worry about them anymore. They aren’t worth it.” Cooper concluded his little speech with a sweet little kiss to his girlfriend’s lips. When he pulled away, he chuckled as he was pulled back down.
“Thank you, Coop. I really needed that.” She said, stroking a hand over his face.
“Anytime, any place darlin’.” He replied, leaning back in for another kiss with his love.
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haitanisbug · 2 years
Text
JJK Street Racers
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Includes: Toji, Gojo, Sukuna, Geto, Choso, Nanami, Naoya
CW: contains some smut, 18+ minors DNI, explicit language
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
He’s a retired street racer now. Rumors of his reckless younger days follow him like a shadow. Now, he is Gojo’s acting manager and he co-owns the mechanic shop with Nanami. You and Toji frequent some of the underground clubs, and one night while Toji’s got a cigarette in between his lips and is running some poker game, you head over to the bar for a drink. A new bartender walks up to you and asks for your order, “I’ll add it to your tab.” he says.  The senior bartender overhears, “no”, he glances at you “that’s Toji’s girl. She doesn’t owe us anything.” As you’re talking to the senior bartender, he mentions that back in the day Toji used to be the king of street racing. “Crazy, fucking reckless he was. He used to pull the most unbelievable stunts. No regard for his own life too.” You don’t really believe that because of the way that Toji is always on Gojo’s ass after Gojo pulls some stupid stunt
Until one night, Toji takes you out on a late drive in his 1970 Dodge Charger R/T. He’s got one hand on the wheel and the other one is traveling under your skirt. After getting handsy with you for a while he finally pulls over to the side of the road. It’s not an extremely busy area but it’s certainly not hidden. And as much restraint he tries to have, at the end of the day Toji is not a patient man. He all but throws you in his back seat and starts fucking you into his vegan leather. He’s going so hard, holding onto the door above you for leverage and the whole car is shaking. It’s obvious what the two of you are up to, and when a cop car drives past and then backtracks, you know you’ve been busted. Toji is not about to get arrested for public indecency of all things.
He tugs on your lip one last time with his teeth, swings into the driver's seat, and says “come on doll, get up here and buckle up.” He leaves you no time before he’s speeding back onto the road. A grin tugs at his scar, and the flashing lights behind you put a harsh glow on the snake tattoo creeping up his neck. The cop car is trying desperately to catch up with Toji at this point. When he gets to the highway he baits the police car as if it has a chance against Toji Fushiguro. You scream when Toji suddenly pulls the wheel and slides his car underneath a semi-truck to get across a lane of traffic. And after Toji pulls off that move with all the ease in the world and loses the cop, he lets out a sharp laugh. You curse yourself for thinking that Toji ever left his reckless side behind.
GOJO SATORU
Gojo as a street racer can be summed up in two words: absolute menace. He drives thoughtlessly and at breakneck speeds. On top of that, he goes through cars like he goes through women. He’s got a new one every week. This is usually because he’s always trying out some new trick that he wants to pull during a street race, and he usually fucks up his car doing it. Toji is his manager/sponsor. He gets Gojo’s racing gigs and he also teaches him driving skills on occasion. Gojo infuriates Toji with the number of stupid stunts he pulls, because if Gojo loses his life… well then Toji loses one of his main sources of income. Gojo might have tried pulling Toji’s special move of driving under a semi-truck to get across a lane of traffic. He only really wanted to try it to prove to Toji that he’s a better driver than Toji ever was. Gojo just barely made it through and scraped up the paint job on his car. Toji yelled at him for a solid 30 minutes about it (secretly he was impressed that Gojo got that trick down on the first try, but Gojo never has to know that).
The cars that Gojo drives are always super tricked out and flashy looking. He wants people to know it’s Gojo Satoru when he’s overtaking them in a race. And the best way of doing that is by having the most garish looking car. Vibrant colors, underglow lights underneath his car, and of course one of Geto’s beautiful designs on the hood.
Gojo usually cycles through women but you’re a different case. You were one of the flag girls for a race, but promptly ignored Gojo the first time he tried to flirt with you (Sukuna never lets Gojo forget how you snubbed him). After persistent flirting, he managed to get you to agree on a date him. Whenever he wins a race he’ll do donuts around you and then parks his car, drags you over to it, and starts making out with you on top of the hood.
“That’s fucking gross, get some fucking tinted windows and fuck her in your car Gojo” Sukuna complains.
“Not enough room! And don’t act like you don’t want to watch” Gojo taunts with a wink.
“Fucking exhibstionist.” mutters sukuna. And Gojo just laughs at that.
SUKUNA
Sukuna is driving around Tokyo with the loudest car he can get his hands on. He’s always playing bass boosted music and his car has mufflers on it, so it revs crazy loud. His cars during street races are painted matte black and it's basically impossible for other drivers to see him during races. He does this on purpose, the only thing alerting other racers to Sukuna’s presence is his loud engine. Once they hear it, they know he's about to take their ass down. It's terrifying, the way he acts in the shadows. Sukuna is extremely talented at drifting and brags about it nonstop. He’s known as the King of Drifting in the Tokyo circuit, and most people think he's the best drifter in all of Japan.
Sukuna and Gojo are enemies, turned to friends, turned to rivals during races. Sukuna is not managed by Toji, but he still goes to Toji and Nanami’s shop for updates on his car. He and Geto talk for ages about new motorcycles and Gojo is always sitting on the couch in the garage complaining about how Sukuna is stealing Gojo’s best friend (“shut up Satoru!” Geto will say. “Maybe I'd talk to you if you knew shit about motorcycles!”). Sukuna loves muscle cars and in his free time he drives them around Tokyo, windows down, aviator shades on, cigar in his mouth and you in the passenger seat. The hour before a street race starts, he’ll drag you into his car in the prep area. “Come here baby, you've gotta put your work in too.” He all but growls in your ear as he places you on his lap in the driver's seat.
“ ‘kuna, there's so many people around. They're totally going to know what we're up to in here.”
“Blacked out windows baby, thank Geto for the extra dark tinting. No one will see a thing. You want me to win don't you? Now get to it.” Sukuna lays back, and puts his hands behind his head as he watches you bounce on his dick. After a while he starts thrusting into you from below, power bottoming you all while smoking on a cigarette.
After he wins the race, you jump into his arms when he gets out of his car. “Thanks for being my good luck charm baby.” he whispers into your head.
Gojo is complaining about unfair rules in the background and Sukuna laughs deeply shouting back at him “Just accept that you got your ass handed to you Satoru!”
GETO SUGURU
He specializes in detailing the interior and exterior of cars. His signature art style is prominent; anyone can easily pick out a car that was detailed by Geto. Oftentimes he puts his original drawings on the hood of Gojo’s cars. All of the other guys in the shop get frustrated with how fast Gojo cycles through cars, but Geto secretly loves that his best friend is a menace. It means that Geto can try out his designs all of the time, and because of the practice, he’s become one of the most skilled and badass detailers in all of Tokyo. He’s an artist at heart and loves trying out his designs on your body too.
“Baby, take your shirt off. I've got this new idea I wanna try,” he says. And then proceeds to paint a fucking dragon up your body and all over your chest. He definitely gets distracted and starts sucking at your nipples but that's a story for another time. He has two intricate tattoo sleeves running up and down his arms. They both depict two different colored dragons, with dragonflies perched around them. Your favorite thing to do is trace them when Geto has his arms wrapped around you at night. 
Despite being in the street racing circle, and working on cars; Geto loves riding motorcycles. He’s a killer at riding them too, he enters street cycle races once in a while just to make the competition sweat when they realize Geto Suguru is entered in the race. He loves bringing you on weekend trips around different beaches in Japan on his motorcycle. You guys will spend the whole day driving places and then usually picnic on a beach and watch the sunset, your back to Geto’s prized bike.
He has a garage full of different bikes at his house and absolutely LOVES fucking you over them. It’s his two favorite things in the world, combining the both of them... what could go wrong? Well, you’ve definitely knocked over your fair share of bikes doing this and have damaged a good amount of them too. But Geto is absolutely addicted to seeing your body splayed out on his bike, and if this is his vice then he’ll just have to accept the consequences because he’s not changing anytime soon. 
CHOSO
He works at the shop as the main mechanic and repairman. He’s one of the best in Tokyo too. He’s always servicing Gojo and Sukunas cars because of how much those two push their engines. And the only reason their cars aren't beat to shit is because of Choso tricking out their engines with special parts. Choso always has some manner of grease all over his face (the first time you met him you thought the tattoo across his nose was just a grease streak.)
You're always hanging around the shop and spending time with Choso while he tinkers on the cars. He doesn't mind, and your presence is always reassuring to him. Sometimes when you get especially bored, you’ll beg Choso to give you some attention. He’s laying back on a creeper under the body of the car, working on something and when you start whining he’ll slide out from under the car. He’s giving you a stoic expression but he pairs it with a “ ‘cmere angel.” He gets up and pulls you in for a sharp kiss and then gets back to work under the car.
That satisfies you for a while until he moves to work on the engine. He has the hood propped up and you’re curious about what he’s doing. As you walk over to him he brings you in front of the hood and stands behind you while he starts pointing out parts of the engine. He plays it off like he’s helping you learn, but the short skirt you wore has been driving him crazy all day, and he’s at his limit. You lean over to look at some intricate part of the engine and suddenly his presence is right up against your back. His hips are aligned with your ass and Choso leans over you and begins to kiss up your neck. He’s rubbing his hands all up and down your body.
”Choso.” you whine. “Your hands are filthy, you’re going to get grease all over my clothes!”
“I’ll just buy you a new shirt baby,” he whispers
“Choso - mpf!” He suddenly turns you around and smashes his lips against yours. He uses one hand to grip your waist and the other hand slams the hood of the car down. He pushes you onto the hood and towers over you while he’s kissing all over your face and neck. You’re panting, was it always this hot in the garage? Geto walks in and suddenly turns around. He does not need to see this shit on a Monday afternoon. He’ll chew Choso out later for making out with you on top of the hood he just detailed smh.
NANAMI KENTO
He’s the co-owner of the mechanic shop with Toji and he primarily deals with all the payments, betting, and underground deals. The money from the shop alone can’t pay for the cost of buying out cops and all the racing cars the boys need (especially because Gojo is wrecking his cars every other week). So that means Nanami and Toji have to resort to dealing with illegal shit too. They’re selling drugs, weapons, and super rare race car parts. Nanami is definitely dipping his hand into Yakuza shit at this point.
Nanami spends a lot of Friday nights in clubs making deals with other people in the black market. He brings you along to these because Nanami feels stronger in your presence (and he’s very weak to your puppy eyes begging him to take you with him). One night he’s meeting with one of the heads of a small-time gang. He’s got you seated in his lap, fingers rubbing small circles on the top of your thigh. You’re drinking champagne and you pretend to drift off while you’re listening to the men talk. You’ve been with Nanami a long time, and when you first started seeing him you would spend your Friday nights with the other guys at the races. At this point, you’ve seen enough races to last you a lifetime and they don’t bring the same thrill that they used to. Now you get your adrenaline rush watching Nanami make other men cower under his sharp gaze, quick wit, and threatening mannerisms. There are rumors of Nanami pulling out a gun if a deal goes wrong..you can neither confirm nor deny those.
After business is done, he’ll lead you, with his hand on your back, to his grey Ford GT. It’s not a super flashy-looking car for his status (not like any of Gojo’s), but it's sleek and fits Nanami well. It’s an easy way to brag about his wealth without attracting unwanted attention all of the time. Just like his car, Nanami plays you the same way. On the outside, he looks unassuming, but you know exactly where the night is headed with that look in his eyes. He’ll have you bent over the kitchen counter in his penthouse screaming his name soon enough, and you’ll pity the men who Nanami deceives with his schemes. If he’s this unforgiving with the body of the woman he loves, then his business partners stand no chance.
NAOYA
If Gojo can be described as a menace while racing, Naoya is the devil incarnate. He’s an absolute dirty racer and treats racing as a game, almost as if it’s a joke to him. He purposely bumps into other cars, speeds into them to rear-end them, slows down suddenly so they rear-end him, all manner of flashing lights on his car for distraction, you name it…. If it can be done, Naoya will do it unabashedly.
The Zenin family is a pretty old and established name within Tokyo (they’re yakuza). They make money wherever it can be had, and a lot of it includes illegal dealings, obviously. They’ve got a hand in the street racing circuit and they train members to dominate in races. It’s a great way to manipulate betting, to make easy cash, and to get people indebted to them. Naoya is heir to the Zenin family, so he doesn’t need to trifle with the petty business of racing, but he’s got a natural talent for it (Gojo and Sukuna are loath to admit this). Naoya shows up shirtless to every single race; he likes to flaunt his tattoo that marks him as a Zenin. It covers the left side of his pectoral, travels over his shoulder, and trails across his back to the base of his spine. He’s also got his left nipple pierced. Because of his daddy’s wealth, he has unlimited access to all sorts of rare engine parts. He gets shipments from overseas and tricks out his car. Racers have to deal with his unbeatable engine, god-given talent, and foul attitude.
When he’s not racing to create chaos, Naoya is lounging at one of the Zenin underground clubs. He’s the owner of a specific one in the middle of the red-light district and he likes to run illegal fight matches amongst other acts of debauchery. On Saturday nights he can be found splayed across one of the black leather couches, shirt unbuttoned, piercing glinting in the neon lights, and you seated on his lap. His favorite thing in the world (other than his depraved hobbies), is fucking you rough and feeding into his unadulterated desire for you. He loves fucking you over the hood to his car. Using his belt, Naoya ties your hands behind your back. He bends you over the hood of his car and smashes your cheek into the cool metal.
“Can’t have your nails scratching up my paint job, can I sweetheart?” He tugs at your restraints a bit. You’re completely naked at this point and Naoya makes quick work of his pants.
“Please Naoya…” You’re not sure what you’re begging for at this point; for his cock or for his mercy? He lost tonight’s race and fury is emanating off his body in waves.
“Shut. Up.” He growls in your ear as he sheaths himself inside you with minimal prep a scream tears through your throat and Naoya laughs.
“That’s right baby, if I can't destroy the competition in racing, let them know what I can destroy.” He leans his body right up against yours and plants both his hands above your head. The touch of his nipple piercing in freezing on your heated back.
“Fucking cunts.” Naoya says, and his thrusts amp to a bruising pace. “I’m going to fucking rip the engine out of Sukuna’s precious car and then I’m going to shove his spark plug into Satoru’s eye.”
As Naoya is cursing out his competition, your body is sliding up the hood further and further. Your cheek is burning from the friction.
“Naoya….. ‘s too much.” you whimper and tears are pricking at your eyes. “Please…” Naoya has no clue if you’re talking about the pain or the stimulation but he keeps up his pace until you cry out his name one last time as you finish. Your drool is dripping onto the hood, and you’ve moved so far up it, your cunt has leaked all over it too.
“Look at you. I’ve got you all tied up and you still managed to mess up my car. I should have you clean it up.” Annoyance is laced through his voice. You move to stand and fulfill Naoya’s request, when suddenly he shoves your head down again, near the part of the hood that's covered in your slick.
“Nuh uh, you’ll clean it with your tongue.”
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zivazivc · 12 days
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Did Les ever dated in the past? Also is he with anyone recently?
Les quit school really early, like 10-years-old early, and he started working soon after, so he didn't really have friends his age. That kinda puts a buffer on a teenager's social and love life. Though there was something that happened at a house party once, that was, uh... a bad experience, and it left him with a lot of issues. Also, partially because of this, he's not really someone who acts on his crushes. So he never dated before.
But at one point the band spent a few months in the same location (dunno the reason yet, but maybe they weren't getting enough gigs and they had to take up some part time jobs for a while), and Les developed a crush on a bartender at a nearby club.
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She's the only OC of mine who's visually a bigger weirdo than Les, and he definitely saw a little bit of himself in her, and hoping for someone with some shared life experience, it's what initially attracted him toward her and vice versa.
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So they had a thing going on for a short time. It never developed into anything serious because sadly they are very alike, which means they are BOTH morons who are shy about making the first move. And after a while they came to the agreement that they were better as just friends.
Floyd with his persistent crush was not happy about the possible romance at first, but he ended up being happy for Les, and he finally decided to give his hopeless longing a rest, since the only good it was doing was growing a rift between his and Les's friendship.
Funny enough it was Floyd backing down which allowed the two to grow closer. Les lowered his guard since he no longer had to overthink if Floyd would interpret anything he did or said as some kind of flirting or act of love, and he no longer had to brace himself for any uncomfortable romancing coming from Floyd either.
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They were already good friends since the start but they became much more casual with each other and began to understand each other on a deeper level as years passed. As Floyd got older and more mature, and became an equal with the rest of the bandmates, it was actually Les who fell for him, hard. He didn't really do anything about it though, but Floyd eventually realized this and you know he did something about it. Though Floyd's crush had gone from looking at Les as this cool experienced older guy when he was younger to now seeing him as a shy innocent teddy bear compared to his lewd self ksjhdkjs.
So technically they became each other's first proper all-encompassing relationship. And by that I mean that besides the lovey-dovey obvious stuff, they were also best friends and helped each other grow a lot. Also Floyd by the time they got together, already started a habit of hooking up with strangers at parties, so being with Les forced him to slow down and progress through a relationship slowly and at a healthy pace for someone his age (since you can't really get anywhere with Les without a lot of patience). And Floyd got Les to become comfortable with opening up and talking about his deep-rooted feelings. They talked about issues they faced, many of which were related to Les's childhood trauma, instead of him just ignoring or suppressing it all. (Floyd also opened up about his own family trauma with Les obviously, but he talked about it even before they got together.)
The relationship, especially at the start, could still be considered questionable from an outsider's perspective, but so was the band's lifestyle in general. They were good for each other during that period while they were growing up and figuring themselves and each other out, which is what matters I think.
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It was honestly mainly Floyd's undiagnosed bipolar disorder that made the relationship suffer toward the end of Floyd's days in the band. It created a lot of trust issues between Floyd and Les, and also Floyd and everyone else, heck it even made Floyd distrust himself, since he and none else knew or understood what was happening with him. This led to a lot of misery and anger that he mostly ended up directing at Les, and it was what eventually made them break up and Floyd leave.
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lincolndjarin · 10 months
Text
Best Kept Secret
chapter five : lunar interlude : just a man (RE-UPLOAD)
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
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pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 5.0k
summary : a look into din's point of view
warnings, etc. : language, sexual fantasy, masturbation
A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!
Absurd.
It’s absurd how much the job pays. Din’s not even sure he should take it at this point because it’s too good to be true. But they promised monthly payments up front and he needed a new ship, and with what this gig pays, within the year he could buy a fleet. He could do this for a few years and be set for life. 
So he catches a ship to Naboo.
And he meets with a rather obnoxious prince who loves the novelty of having a Mandalorian working for him. It’s a good thing the job’s seemingly so easy because Prince Harand is off putting enough to make him reconsider. It’s simple, act as a personal guard to his wife. In exchange he’ll receive more credits than he’ll know what to do with and a private place to reside in. All he has to do is keep her from harm and make sure she doesn’t get into trouble. 
“Is she prone to getting into trouble?” Din doesn’t try to hide the distaste in his voice at how high-and-mighty the man is acting.
“You expect me to know that?”
Pig. 
After he accepts he’s given direct permission to disregard any of her orders that would prevent him from doing his job. 
He declines the invitation to attend the wedding, to say he’s indifferent to the whole affair would be an understatement. He isn’t in any hurry to meet the woman who agreed to marry that. So Prince Harand gives him a note, he doesn’t bother reading it, he just tosses it on the vanity and he waits alone in what he is told are your chambers. 
Weddings take a while. 
So he can’t help but be curious, after all did his employer expect him to just stand in the same spot all day? So he snoops, he’s allowed to be nosy, it might help him do a better job if he can get a grasp on who you are. He spends the next two hours inspecting the room from top to bottom and much to his annoyance he learns nothing. There isn’t a single personal item here. All the clothes are seemingly unworn, there’s no clutter, nothing. If anything he feels like he knows even less about you. Shit, does he even know your name? Had the prince mentioned it? Maker, did the prince even know the name of the woman he was marrying? What a clown. Whatever, it doesn’t matter, she’s royalty and he’s the help, she probably won’t even address him. So he waits for several hours. He just stands there, eventually he considers just leaving and reporting for duty tomorrow but he can hear voices in the hall now so he stands up a bit straighter, then the door creaks open and Kodo drunkenly peers in before slamming it shut again.
Idiot. 
Is that laughter? 
He doesn’t get any time to wonder what that was about because a Twi’lek opens the door and then you walk in. And he’s frozen in place. Your eyes are on him and the room is suddenly dreadfully hot. It’s like you're under some sort of spell that pulls you towards him and he can’t breathe. Why would they put such garish makeup on such a beautiful face?
He should say something. He needs to say something. Introduce yourself you dimwit. 
He opens his mouth but before he can utter a sound you touch him. It feels like his heart has stopped. He can see you speaking but he doesn’t hear a thing, captivated by the way your mouth moves when you talk, your tongue poking out slightly to wet your lips as you graze his chest plate with your fingertips.
It’s enough to make a man want to abandon his creed and take you right there. 
This must be some kind of punishment for all of the terrible things he’s done. The gods are punishing him with this paragon of a woman that he is doomed to spend his days with but he can never have. The ringing in his ears finally clears up and he hears the first words he can actually get a grasp on that come through your perfect mouth. 
“Is this some sort of weird fetish of his?” 
Well. The ringing is back in his ears. He thinks he might just have to die in this position at this point cause it’s definitely too late to speak up, he waited too long, what the hell is the matter with him? He’s a fucking bounty hunter for gods sake, he’s fought beasts of all shapes and sizes and suddenly he’s been conquered by some woman he doesn’t even know?
Your small hand grabs the edge of the helmet and he’s finally able to snap out of it when you go to remove it. On instinct he manages to catch both your wrists in one hand. 
“Don’t.” Thank the gods the modulator covers up the way his voice cracks. You’re scolding him, you’ve poked a finger into his chest plate but he’s having a hard time paying attention because he can’t seem to take his eyes off of the way your face flushes red, and then your neck, and then your chest. 
How low does the crimson tint go?
For Makers sake snap out of it man, you’re one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy not a school boy with a crush. 
You’re staring at the Twi’lek, scowling. He has to silence his helmet to hide the laughter that bursts out as you actually manage to get him to leave just by eyeballing him.
He manages to get through the conversation with you without tearing your clothes off, although there is a close call when you hike up your skirt to remove an anklet and like some sort of repressed Victorian woman, he sees just a glimpse of your ankle and can feel blood rushing south. 
For god’s sake. At that point he just closes his eyes because this situation cannot get any worse, and then he can hear your dress hit the floor and he has never had to work so hard to keep his eyes shut. 
“...I want to hear it from you.” 
“My job is to make sure you are not harmed.” Can you hear the strain in his voice as he wills himself not to get hard? Gods he hopes not. He needs to get out of this situation fast, he’s getting ready to dismiss himself and find Kodo and tell him to take the money back, that he can’t do this but you say something that stops him dead in his tracks.
“Actually I’m good.”
He can’t stop the exasperation in his voice.
“Excuse me?” 
“Can you not hear through the helmet? I’m good. I’ve already got an ensemble of people trailing me. I don’t need another.”
You can’t be serious. 
“You’re dismissed.” 
You are. 
People don’t typically talk to him like that. They’re always too afraid. But you aren’t, you don’t seem to be frightened by him in the slightest. He was going to leave, he wanted to leave, but it’s been a long time since someone challenged him like this. 
“You don’t have the authority to dismiss me.” He snaps back. 
He likes arguing with you. He doesn’t get to argue with people. Who wants to argue with a Mandalorian? Most people don’t want to get shot by a trained killer. 
You don’t appear to be most people.
He wants to rile you up, wants to see the fire in your eyes, he’d do just about anything to be the target of your anger. 
So he teases you, until he leaves, making sure to get the last word in. He sets up a few imperceptible motion sensors just under your door knob so he can make sure he’s alerted if you decide to make a run for it. 
And then he’s alone. So he goes to where he was told his lodging would be, it’s about a twenty minute walk but he doesn’t mind, it’s secluded, cozy. The cabin reminds him a bit of the crest, just big enough to be comfortable. 
He takes a cold shower and tries not to think about his boss's wife. 
The next few weeks aren’t any easier. 
You seemingly can’t stand him and he decides it’s for the best. You should hate him, he deserves it since your husband is paying him outrageous amounts of money to follow you around all day and fantasize about all the ways he could make you hate him a little less. 
It’s hell.
Having to watch you day in and day out. Watch you wander around aimlessly, like a bird trapped in a cage. His least favorite days are when he has to attend dinners with you and your husband. The man is an ogre. And that’s why he can’t seem to leave. He thinks about it, often. Just packing up and catching the next ship off planet. But if he leaves, who's going to protect you from this creep? So he stays.
Eventually, he watches you less like it’s his job and more like it’s his religion. 
Things only get worse when one night he wakes up with a start, sitting up in bed as he hears the beeping from his gauntlet that signifies your door being opened. It’s the middle of the night. What if somebody got in? There’s no way, you have a state of the art locking system that only he and a few staff can get into, unless they have a code. What if it was just your husband? Why does that make him don his armor faster? He has no right to barge in there if it’s simply your spouse coming in to fulfill his marital duty, yet he’s in a dead sprint towards the castle the moment he’s dressed. He had fallen asleep in his flight suit with his helmet on anyway, it didn’t take him long and when he gets to your room he’s tense the moment he sees that the door is closed. Ever so slightly adjusting the audio on his helmet he discerns that the room is empty so he switches his vision so he can trail you and sure enough a set of footprints is going off in the familiar direction of the library. 
It was a relief. To know that no one had gotten in and you had simply left on your own accord but why would you be sneaking out to the library? You go to the library everyday, you should be sick of it. So he silently walks until he sees the faint light of a glowrod illuminating your face, a stack of books clutched in your arms. And he’s about to say something, you’re only a few feet ahead of him but when you turn you’re wearing such a thin nightgown, and the robe is hardly doing anything to cover you. Before he can react you’re rushing forward slamming into him. 
And now he’s facing the worst torture yet. 
Your robe fell off one of your shoulders as you dropped and now you’re sprawled out on the floor below him, your hair is down, messy from sleep, your slip of a nightgown riding up your thighs as you look up into the darkness at him. And then you fucking groaned. And all he can think about is how easy it would be to turn that fabric into confetti. 
Help her up jackass. 
He reaches down and of course you swat his hands away. You should hate him. 
He helps you back to your room and the moment he knows you aren’t going to try anything he rushes back in the direction of the library. He knows you're fuming, the least he can do is go get your books. But then he’s picking them up and looking at the titles he can’t believe how warm it is in the castle suddenly. He’s used to the heat. Wearing this many layers you build up a tolerance.
But now he’s looking at the stack of smutty romance novels you’d wanted so badly you’d snuck out to get them and he’s sweating. 
He makes it back to the cabin in half the time it usually takes him. He was in such a hurry he had completely forgotten about returning your books to you. He tosses them to the side and in an instant he’s practically throwing his armor to the ground, he only manages to get half of it off before he sprawls out on his bed, discarding his gloves haphazardly as he frees his cock from his trousers. His helmet bumping against the wall as he leans back and starts stroking himself, his palms are so clammy he doesn’t even bother spitting in his hand. 
It’s shameful how close he already is just at the sight of you on the floor like that. His hips stutter upwards into his fist as he imagines you on top of him, your thighs wrapped around his waist, hair disheveled, wearing that pretty little negligee. Maker, your skin always looks so soft, you’d feel so much better than his calloused hands. Were you gonna read those dirty books and touch yourself with those delicate little fingers of yours? 
It doesn’t take long after that before he reaches his hasty climax, cumming with a filthy groan of your name, shooting ropes up onto his stomach. 
He definitely deserves to have you hate him. 
He tries to not even look at you after that. Until one day when you’re in the library once again and it’s obvious to him that you’re pretending to read your book, your eyes dart up to glare at him every few seconds. 
You’re looking at him like bounties look at him once they’ve been caught and are plotting to attempt an escape, purely out of habit he chides you.
“Don’t”
And that’s all it takes. He actually manages to talk to you. Of course it’s easier once he imagines you as a particularly unruly bounty, to snap back at you. If you were a real bounty he’d have a hard time turning you in. 
You’d look nice in the cuffs. 
Don’t. Keep it in your pants you moron. 
He even offers to take you to the gardens, you deserve that at the very least, a few hours outside of this sweltering castle. 
Then he takes you back to your quarters and you look at him with those heart eyes and he feels like he’s going to pass out when you so eagerly make him promise to show you the gardens. 
It’s selfish. But he has to get in one last dig, he has to see that bloom of color on your skin one last time as he tells you that your book had been upside down. 
It all becomes so manageable. For a moment he thinks that the two of you might be able to handle this little antagonistic relationship that you’re beginning to build. It would be nice, to have you keeping him in check, to have reminders that you dislike him. 
But he had to go and ruin it all.
It all went wrong so fast it made his head spin. 
It all started when you were in that damned dress. You’d been the most stunning woman he’d ever seen even in the campy, over the top makeup, and the flashy unattractive dresses. But now here you were in that yellow gown and it was like he was seeing you clearly for the first time. There weren’t any flashy accessories to distract him from your face. That flawless face. 
So he was already a little off his game at that point.
And then he slipped up. He couldn’t help it, not when you were standing next to him, dressed like that. He called you little flower. That had been something just for him and like the blundering fool that he was in your presence he blurted it out without thinking. He could feel that familiar paralysis, he hated the effect you had on him. Thank the gods he had done it in Mando’a. 
But you’re you so of course you don’t drop it. And then you make it worse because you touch him. 
And then he makes things worse because he lashes out.
Then he thinks you’re hurt and he makes an ass of himself.
And lashes out again. He’s not even that mad about the droid comment he’s just overwhelmed, he’s never been this overwhelmed and this stupid fucking planet is so hot.
It keeps getting worse, he can’t shut the fuck up and finally you tell him to leave and he can’t because he wants to stay, he wants to stay and scream at you because he can’t stand how much he needs you it makes him physically ill how you haunt him day and night.
So he says no.
And the look on your face is enough to make him want to swear a new creed to make sure you never look so betrayed ever again. 
After that you should hate him. He’s glad you hate him. He’s glad you’re giving him the silent treatment, he deserves much worse. 
The first day all he can think about is apologizing. You sit in that little nook, back in your blue dresses, looking furious. He just doesn’t know what to say that won’t make this worse. 
The second day all he can think about is how he could make it up to you. He’s got a couple of ideas of things that might wipe that frown off your face. He’s obviously not going to just abandon his creed but you definitely don’t make it easy, there’s a million different things that he wants to do to you that would be rather difficult if he can’t use his mouth.
He doesn’t make any real progress on day two either and later that night ends up with his face buried in his pillow, fucking his fist. 
The third day he’s actually kind of pissed. If you two have something in common it’s how stubborn you can be and suddenly he’s mad at you, for no real reason, he supposes he’s just sick of feeling sorry. 
And then there’s that dinner. 
He wants to kill that ignorant, snooty, little man more than he’s ever wanted to kill a person. He wants to make it last, it’s been a long time since he’s killed something, he would enjoy killing Kodo.
But all that rage goes away when he catches a glimpse of your expression and it’s replaced with fear. He’s never seen you look so small and suddenly he’s terrified that you’ve lost that fire. He’ll go back and massacre Kodo right now if he truly did extinguish your flame. 
So he breaks the silence. And asks if you're okay. 
And he’s relieved when you ramble on, even though he wishes so desperately he could wipe your tears away. Of course you’d be harder than that to put out. His light is okay, and that's all that matters. 
So he leaves you your book. 
He had gotten bored and read one of them. The Smitten Paladin. It was racy but it’s what she had gone to get in the first place so why not. But that isn’t enough. Not after what you just went through, so he opens the cover and leaves his favorite color, green, written inside, it’s the least he can do. 
He goes into the next day with the intention of apologizing. Not entirely sure what for. 
Sorry your husband is a scumbag. You should leave him for me. 
Doesn’t exactly have a ring to it. 
Before he can think of what to say you come out of your room and he’s thankful for the helmet because his jaw would be on the floor. 
Maker, did you wear that just for him?
The green dress clings to the outline of your torso and it feels like he’s been punched in the gut. Actually, he’s been punched in the gut plenty of times and this is worse because your hair is down and it’s all he can do to not tangle his fingers in it and drag you back into your room. What kind of game are you trying to play with him? Dressing in that color, making yourself irresistible, what the hell is your angle? He’s cautious and slow when he greets you. He remains on edge all the way to the library.
And then you take out the fucking book. 
You can’t be serious. 
This can’t be happening. 
You can’t just do this.
You can’t just sit there in that dress. With your hair falling so exquisitely across your face, begging to be brushed behind your ear, reading porn directly in front of him.
If you’re trying to punish him it’s working. This is torture. If you used this method to interrogate him for information he would have folded immediately. He sits there for hours, sweating his ass off as you perch in that little nook of yours, it would be so easy for him to just bend you over it and lift up the skirt of that lovely little gown. Is that what you want? He’s getting dizzy. Why else would you do this and then read a fucking erotic novel in front of him? Is this some kind of test? 
Then you look at him. It’s easy to forget since he’s always wearing a helmet that you don’t know when he’s staring right at you. You glance up at him through your eyelashes and you don’t look away. He’s so hard he’s pretty sure he’s about to burst through the front of his pants. What is your goal here? Your face is turning that delicious shade of red and you haven’t so much as looked at the pages in front of you for minutes at this point.
If this is some game of chicken he isn’t going to lose. No matter how badly he wants it, he won’t lay a hand on you unless you ask him for it. Did you just squeeze your thighs together?
For god's sake, ask for it. Ask for anything he’ll fucking do it.
He can’t take it anymore. So he speaks, teases you. It’s innocent enough. 
Keep it innocent. 
So you go back and forth and it’s safe. For a moment. He manages to adjust himself in the chair so it hopefully isn’t too obvious that he’s pitching a tent severe enough to camp under. And then he can’t stop himself from asking how the book is and before he knows it you’re asking if he had to take a vow of celibacy. 
This isn’t okay.
And then you ask if he can take the armor off. 
For Makers sake you’re married.
He needs to ask about something else. Anything else.
“The book, what’s it about?” 
Yeah, let's talk about the porn again. Dumbass. 
And then you say the words that make him want to just abandon his post and quit. Get as far away from this planet as possible.
“I wasn’t really stuck on anything… I suppose I was just trying to figure out how he fits it all in there?”
Fuck. Does she know? Is she trying to be coy?
You can’t know. He hadn’t seen your eyes dart between his legs. This can’t be happening, this is so bad. Kodo would have him killed for this. So he plays his last card, that he read the book. And thankfully it actually works, you’re so distracted by the fact that he read your book that he manages to get you out of the library and back to your chambers. 
He can’t get back to his cabin fast enough.
Cold shower. Bed. That’s the order of events. Nothing else. 
But he can’t get away from you. It’s worse when he sleeps because in his dreams you are so much less confusing. 
In his dreams you join him in that cold shower and you warm him up in several different ways (and several different positions) and he can take off his helmet and look at you unfiltered. You're the leading lady of all of his dreams, since the day he met you he has never had a break from you. 
That isn’t always a good thing because he wakes up from those dreams he has to go see the real you. The one that hates him. As you should.
It was already a rough morning, there is nothing as humbling as waking up to find you’ve cum in your pants like some pent up teenager. 
The morning only gets rougher when he goes to retrieve you and you aren’t there.
Fuck.
What’s the protocol for this sort of thing? He doesn’t even bother trying to figure that out because his hand is already on his blaster and he’s throwing doors open. This isn’t the time to panic, he needs to pull himself together.
And then he throws open the right door and you’re sitting there in the tub with your hand shoved between your legs, your head tilted back ever so slightly with your eyes shut tight. You’re his dream come to life and simultaneously his worst nightmare. He wants to look away. He needs to look away but he’s a goner the moment he sees your soapy chest. 
This has to be a record breakingly bad morning. 
And yet by some miracle he fixes it. Or rather, the garden fixes it. You couldn’t pay him to look away from your face. He wants you to look like this all the time, beaming, curious, truly happy. And he can’t help himself, he doesn’t deserve it, but he’s greedy and he wants to know more about you, wants to hear your voice. So he suggests the game and Maker, you play it. 
Gods, he’s weak. Why do you make him so weak?
The moment you ask for a question if you win he knows what you’ll ask. He hadn’t planned on letting you win, but you looked so content, he could just tell you but he passes on the last question. He wants you to know what it means. 
It’s selfish to ask for anything else, he shouldn’t be rewarded for this kind of behavior, but he does it anyway, and he asks for more. He asks for more days, just the two of you, and you say yes. 
And when you ask what sarad'ika means he’s sure this is where he gets what he deserves, this is where you’ll spit in his face, call him a creep, and tell him to leave. But you don’t. Instead you politely say good night to him. 
This can’t be real. There’s just no way. But there you are, each morning, in your much simpler gowns that suit you so perfectly, and you ask him to read because you don’t want him to be bored and how could he possibly say no to you. You could ask him for the moons and he’d find a way to give them to you.
But it has to end eventually. 
And it does on the fifth cycle as reality crashes in and he has to escort you to dinner with your husband. 
She’s married.
It keeps getting worse. He’s asked to leave. He can’t. He can’t just leave you in a room full of drunk men, especially these drunk men. Especially that drunk man. His mind is racing at light speed but he can’t think of a single argument for why he should stay. 
And then you look at him with those pleading eyes and his heart starts pounding out of his chest.
Maybe he could take on six battle droids.
But he doesn’t, of course. Because what if you got caught in the crossfire. You hadn’t produced an heir, you were still expendable to Prince Harand. And he has to leave you alone with him. 
It’s the longest two hours of his life. 
He wants to tune it out, to turn off any exterior sound on the helmet but he can’t because what if something happened to you? So he listens to every word.
He’s never felt so small. 
It’s a pitiful feeling. To go through your entire life being used to doing things a certain way to protect the ones you care for. And then when it comes down to the person that means the most to you you can’t do a thing.
For a man who has solved nearly all of his problems in life with a blaster, to suddenly be unable to do so? It’s pathetic. 
They could punish her if I intervene.
They could kill her. 
They could kill me.
Lock me up.
Who would protect her then? 
Maker, he hasn’t felt this crushing sensation in his chest since he had to say goodbye to the kid. He can’t breathe. 
He’s supposed to be the strong one.
Yet he has been conquered by a fucking door. 
He doesn’t even realize you're out. Or that you’ve kicked him. Or that you’re suddenly sitting between his legs. He’s too far gone. It isn’t until he feels his helmet adjust that he snaps out of it. 
Because you’re real. And you’re okay.
No thanks to him.
And he can’t stop the words that pour out of his mouth. Never in his life has he been reduced to this, afraid like this. You should be disgusted. That the Mandalorian sworn to protect you had been diminished to this. Just a man.
But you aren’t. You’re warm, and gentle, and soft, and real. 
He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve you.
So he stands. And he helps you up.
He needs you to hate him again. It’s the only thing that keeps him grounded. 
So he escorts you to your chambers, and you turn to him and say those five damning words. 
“Do you wanna come in?” 
He’s weak. And he’s selfish. Don’t do this Mando.
But he isn’t a Mandalorian right now. He’s just a man. 
With you he's just Din.
So he nods.
I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!
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fandomwritingbit · 6 months
Note
So this is something I've been formulating during the past two days. This isn't so much a request, just my rambling, but if it gives you some inspo then go right ahead :)
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Steve/William is f!reader's career counselor. The first time they meet face-to-face, the way she looks and acts piques his interest. He's already planning on offering her the security gig, but purposefully doesn't propose it until a few days later just to toy with her, plus so he can have a reason to get her into his office again ASAP.
She accepts the job because even though the pay and hours aren't ideal, she still needs some money until she can find something long-term. Of course the whole "living animatronics" thing creeps her out, but sometime before she started, William made a point to tell the animatronics "Scare her, but don't kill her." After the first couple of shifts, she gets into a rhythm to tolerate them at least a little. Still a tad creepy, though not as much as that weird golden bunny looking thing in a backroom that she stumbled across one night...
Unbeknownst to her, William has developed an obsession with her. He takes advantage of the fact that he has her phone number to call her sometimes under the guise of wanting to know how the job is going and her home address so he can drive over to her place and watch her from a distance even if only for a few minutes. And yes, he's fantasized about her.
One day, he catches one of her guy friends dropping off groceries he got for her (because with the hours she's working and her now messed-up sleep schedule, who has time to buy food? lol) and this... pisses him off, so to speak. Like gripping the steering wheel levels of pissed off. Fueled by jealousy and possessiveness, next time she's in his office, he starts playing up more of his "dangerous but alluring" demeanour while still maintaining his professionalism to the best of his abilities so as to not set off any alarm bells. He even gambles ruining his entire scheme by covertly smelling her hair while she kneels down to pick something up.
He could've pounced on her right then and there. But no. He wants to draw this out a little while longer.
But when she makes an off-hand comment about looking for additional work during one of their phone calls, his patience immediately runs out. Bunny wants to leave? Like hell she will!
During her next shift, she hears commotion in one of the main areas. Believing it to be an intruder (at this point, she knows the animatronics well enough to not consider them as suspects) and goes to confront whoever it is. Lo and behold, it's that goddamn creepy bunny looking thing. Except it's moving. And laughing creepily at her. Oh shit.
The knife its brandishing in its hand certainly isn't helping matters.
After a brief scuffle, she runs to the storage area to get something better to fight off the lunatic rabbit with, but is suddenly grabbed and held by the neck and slammed against the wall. Its too strong for her to fight off and she's left panicking but still showing signs of defiance. This only seems to egg the rabbit on more as it gets uncomfortably close to her, making more creepy comments in that demonic voice, and even licks her at one point.
Soon enough, the rabbit's head is removed and she sees her career counselor underneath. Now she's even more terrified, and the sinister yet sensual actions escalate. Using the knife to force her face to look back at him, finally getting in close enough to properly smell her hair, slamming her against the wall again just to hear her groan in pain, the list goes on.
"I've waited long enough to get you like this," he says. "We're gonna be here for a long time."
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Whatever happens after this is up to your imagination. Does she escape? Does he eventually kill her or keep her alive for his enjoyment? I dunno. Not sure how to end this. XDDD
Terrifying yet intriguing additional concept: if after he ""has fun"" with her (and who knows how long his idea of a "long time" is) and ends up killing her in the pizzeria, he hopes her ghost/spirit remains like the kids' did so that she can be stuck there as something of a maternal figure to the animatronics. If he can manipulate the kids to forget that he's the one who killed them, who's to say he can't do the same to her?
Okay... so you are a genius.
The whole idea of him withholding the job offer until the last second is absolutely the kind of manipulative thing he would do just so reader feels indebted to him and like he did her a favour. He’s such a hypocrite because when she thanks him, all  he thinks is that she’s clingy and dependent even though he’s the one calling her at least once a week to ‘check in’ and driving to her house just to catch a glimpse of her through the windows. 
As for the animatronics, telling them to scare her is just more manipulation, maybe just so he can give her tips or come to the rescue like some white knight.
He makes sure she’s still coming to appointments under the guise of looking out for her but it’s really all for him. He’s always on the verge of blowing the career counsellor cover because he leaves his hand on her back for too long, watches her lips move as she talks too much, leans in to smell her hair too often. 
And if he feels like there’s a chance he’s going to lose her? Like you said with seeing a guy friend at her house or her looking at other job options. It’s the straw for the camel, honestly. I just love the set up you have of her going to investigate a noise she’s never heard before and being accosted. Of course she fights the rabbit, smashing whatever objects she can grab into its face, pushing as hard as she can, but it only ever deters him for a second, she’s just not strong enough. 
He just revels in removing the head and seeing her eyes blow with realisation that it’s him. And you’re right, the knowledge that it's not some monster pawing at her but a bloke she’s known for weeks is much more terrifying. It’s like all her previous interactions with him replay in her mind now tinted with the creepy realisation that he was fantasising about this the whole time. He’d definitely take her right there, using that knife as motivation to make her a good girl for him. Cooing some abnormally sweet words that don’t match the dingy surroundings or the blade against her skin, “Just like that sweet girl.” Kind of things as his hand in her hair guides her to suck him. 
“You can take it, come on.” As he pushes inside her. I think he’d be ‘nice’ to her in this situation because he knows how scared she is and in a twisted way he wants her to enjoy it, if you get what I mean. 
Now after he’s devoured you, I just can’t decide if he’d kill her or not. Part of me thinks that if she begged for him to let her live he’d kill her, and if she said nothing he’d keep her around. If he let her live she’d be his from now on. Literally no escape, he knows where she lives where she works. He’d go as far as to keep track of any new jobs she applied for and bad mouth her to them, just to keep her where he wants her. 
As for the supernatural part of this, with the spirits, I think if he killed her he’d be banking on her being stuck there. Is that not the most depraved victory? He’s then your last ‘lover’ and your first killer in the same night. You would forever be his, trapped there for him to play with. Also, like if he ever was caught for his crimes her name would always be next to his. 
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Anyways sorry for not doing much more with this but to be fair there wasn’t much for me to add! It was already well thought and written. Thanks so much for this xx
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campbell-rose · 9 months
Text
Helluva Rewrite: Blitzø
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ft Loona doodles :) Alright first off sorry this took so long i got a job lol
A large part of his character is the fact that he used to be a clown, so I took a bit of two face in this design and accentuated the scarring on the left side of his face. I decided to give him the circular cheek bits to allude to the clown as well as ruffling his collar under the clothes. He’s the most complex design of the IMP so far, aside from Loona’s multiple spots, so i tried to keep the colors simple but distinct from M&M. I took the spikes and put them on his clothes – as in he puts on thorns to keep people away. I think a pink tone suits his more lusty character. 
Now as for his character... I'll be honest I struggled with him for a bit. I wasn’t entirely sure where I wanted his character to go or how serious this rewrite would take the drama Viv wants to write. I adore writing deep characters, so I suppose I’m going to have to take The Office’s approach of being a comedy with moving parts. There are overarching plot lines in this version, that being Moxxie’s mafia ties coming back to haunt him, Blitzo’s past coming back to fuck him over in the form of everything about him, and Millie’s insecurities fucking her over when it counts. Maybe the series underlying theme is how running from your problems doesn’t work. Idk, because I also like the whole monster of the week type assassin gigs they do. I’ll make it work. 
So now, introducing the new and improved Blitzø! 
Blitzø is a mixed imp, his father being from Greed and his mother being from Lust. As such he’s a very poor mix of bad traits. He’s hypersexual (to the point of disturbing others), greedy as fuck (as he underpays Millie and Moxxie), is greatly attached to and possessive of those he likes (hence his smothering of Loona and stalking of M&M), and tends to think with his dick in most situations which get him into quite a few pickles (hehe pickle) 
Alright, so personality wise he is just about the same. He shits on others, is generally an ass and not very shy about it, but one thing I want to change is his delivery. This Blitzø is much more jovial about what he’s doing, putting on an act of being very charming and playful, even when he insults people. Ex, the line in the pilot when he mentions Moxxie crushing his dreams would include a very childish pout and a chuckle after. He plays the things he says off as jokes so it gives him an air of... idk like you don’t know when he’s ever being serious. 
He grew up in a circus in Greed along with his twin sister Barbie Wire (side note if Blitzo was my og creation he would have a pun/type name like Barbie does. Too tired to come up with one now, but mainly just because Barbie Wire is a much more creative name than fucking Blitzo) and his mother, who was dying day by day. His father was the ring leader and used his children as props to make money. Blitzo was a double act with Barbie Wire where they would do tricks on trained horses before Barbie started wanting to do trapeze and Blitzo was paired with Fizz instead to do acrobatics and tell jokes. 
Now since we don’t know what the fuck happened in Blitzo’s past (despite being on fucking season 2) I’m going to leave this bit open ended until Viv plays her cards then rewrite it into my story.  
So overall I’m not tweaking too much with Blitzo. Maybe instead of being a woobie who is like oh woe is me I suck he is just an overt asshole who sort of wants to be better but that’s too much work.  
His relationship with Stolas is a can of worms and I fucking hate worms. Alright, so we’re scrapping the childhood buddies thing, and going full force into what we all were shown in the pilot – this powerful demon is banging Blitzo in exchange for the Grimoire. Now real quick, why doesn’t Blitzo use Asmodean crystals? In this I'm making it so only lust demons can bond with crystals (bonding meaning only that demon can use them) and unbound crystals can’t leave Lust. So Blitzo would have to go to Lust and buy one, which is expensive as fuck and he was too broke at the time he struck the deal with Stolas. He’s planning on ditching Stolas as soon as he has enough cash to buy a crystal for IMP to use. 
So Stolas and Blitzo are both using each other, neither of them are like “omg I think he likes me”. Stolas wants sex to fuel his imp fetish and Blitzo wants the book. Blitzo has every intention of cutting this off as soon as he gets the crystal, and in his mind is only really indulging some rich brat demon. The issue comes when Blitzo finds himself actually liking Stolas – he likes the owl’s stupid spiels about literature and space and herbs, he likes that Stolas tells him helpful things with no prompting (like how certain herbs can treat injuries and things like that), and he finds himself liking Stolas’s company. Which is a big problem if he wants to cut the demon off, so he starts trying to get that in gear. This is also while being constantly reminded how unlovable he is and how he ruins everything he touches, but he’s conflicted because Stolas has started to treat him kindly and refer to him like an acquaintance rather than a sex toy. 
Any I'm tired af, going to bed. 
Oh, but before I go I just want to say that now that I’ve finished the IMP gang, I’m taking a minor break from reworking Helluva and will be posting some RWBY redesigns I’ve made because I fucking hate RWBY but at the same time it’s like my childhood. I’ll tag anything Rwby I'm doing as Rwby Rework if you’re interested, but don’t worry I’ll continue to do more viv/helluva/hazbin later this month! 
Thanks for reading <3
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ystrike1 · 2 months
Text
After Killing You - By Ttangjwi (8/10)
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If your true loved killed you...what would you do if you woke up? Would you call the police? Lie in wait for revenge? No. If it's true love you'd say you knew it was an accident. Only a scratch. You'd stay together anyway....If you're totally crazy.
Eunsung is a child of divorce. Like, A Child of Divorce. As in, neither of his parents wanted him. His mother kicked him out as a teenager.
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As a child it was much worse. He moved alot because the divorce was messy. His father liked to hit him. His mother constantly screamed that she did not want or love him. It's a real shame. Eunsung is a very handsome boy, and the author throws in a few hints about his brain too. He's very smart, but he's stuck with zero social skills because of his upbringing.
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Eunsung gets overly attached to his first ever boyfriend, Hyunwoo. Hyunwoo is a handsome, kind loser. When they met Hyunwoo was a washed up chef working a convenience store gig. Eunsung was still a student. They were friends first. Hyunwoo was his only friend.
It become love. Then obsession.
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Hyunwoo breaks up with him over his creepy behavior later on. You see, Hyunwoo gets better. After he starts dating Eunsung he improves himself. He gets back into restaurant work at the bottom. He goes to therapy for his damaged hand, so he can pursue his dream of restaurant ownership.
The problem is his new job opens doors. It eats up alot of his time...and he reconnects with his ex-girlfriend through the restaurant.
Hyunwoo notices that his relationship with an obsessive and directionless man with no dreams...is weird and its not going anywhere.
Eunsung chokes him, because he doesn't want his beloved to leave.
He does it too hard.
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Then Eunsung wakes up next to his own corpse. Hyunwoo is no longer dead under him. He has entered a parallel world where Hyunwoo killed him by accident. Hyunwoo fought off his choking hands. He held up a knife in self defense...and he lashed out too hard.
Hyunwoo is at work, thinking about going to jail or hiding the body.
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Eunsung hides his own body. He stabs himself...gently so he looks battered, and he waits for Hyunwoo.
He said he was acting crazy. They both did awful things, but he wants to give their relationship another chance.
Eunsung promises to be less clingy and more considerate.
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Hyunwoo says yes.
He did love Eunsung. He just thought their relationship was unhealthy and stagnant.
Eunsung promises to go to school. He gives Hyunwoo more alone time and time to breathe. All is well....and Hyunwoo feels extremely guilty for hurting his lover.
He rationalizes that Eunsung's attack was more of a panic attack...not an obsessive tirade.
All is well.
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Hyunwoo tries harder too.
Eunsung was in the wrong for following him to work and telling him to quit his job....but that's in the past.
He does love Eunsung.
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The problem is his ex. A strong, driven woman who is also in the restaurant industry.
She dumped him before, when his hands got injured and his life went down the toilet.
Hyunwoo....isn't gay. It's a big problem in their relationship. He likes Eunsung, but being with a woman is both more natural and convenient for him...
He wavers, even when Eunsung tries his best to be less obsessive (on the surface).
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It's (sort of) an accident.
A nosy coworker finds out that Hyunwoo has a (younger) boyfriend.
Hyunwoo feels awkward for even thinking about abandoning his considerate boyfriend
...who was there for him when his ex abandoned him...
Hyunwoo bites the bullet. He quits his job at the restaurant, and he starts saying the same obsessive things Eunsung used to say.
Eunsung wants to be happy, but he doesn't trust it. He's been hiding his madness, but underneath it all he's still the same.
He checks Hyunwoo's phone while he's asleep, and he finds out.
Hyunwoo met his ex secretly a couple times.
He was thinking about leaving.
Again.
Even though Eunsung did everything right this time.
Maybe....
He should try again...
Yeah....
That'll work...
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anawrites3 · 9 months
Note
Jason and Tim, they're comparing their scars
"This one," Jason said in a low voice, turning a bit to show the long scar on his side better. It started at his sternum and disappeared under his armpit. "Is from Black Mask. Fucker got me when my suit ripped and tried his damnest to put me down."
"Woah." Tim breathed out before shuffling closer. He reached out to trace the mark with his fingers, slowly and carefully, and watched goosebumps rise where he touched. "It looks… well, it looks pretty bad."
Jason snorted. He didn't move away from Tim's touch, even with how cold Tim's hand had to feel on his bare skin.
"It was." He agreed easily. "Not the worst I got but still hurt like bitch. Dick got crazy while trying to get me back to the Manor."
"Yeah, I can imagine that." Tim laughed. He sat back to gesture towards his own scar, this one also on the side but more towards his hip. It wasn't as long as Jason's but more ragged and ugly. "This one from Two Face."
"Damn." Jason whistled. He leaned closer to take a better look and didn't trace it with his fingers like Tim did, just put his hand on Tim's hip. "He got you good."
Tim winced.
"It was a stupid mistake." He admitted with a huff. He rested his hands on the couch behind him and looked up at the dark ceiling, subtly pressing himself into Jason's touch. "I was still new at the whole gig, made the wrong decision and ended up hurt. Bruce wasn't very happy with me."
Jason hummed. His thumb circled the skin of Tim's hip, dipping just barely into the waist of Tim's jeans and making the boy shiver.
"Can't blame him." He shrugged. "I'd get pissed at you for being stupid on patrol too."
A sigh left Tim's lips. Jason watched the way they parted to let the breath out.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Tim mumbled, grumpy. "Learned my lesson now."
"I'd hope so."
"Oh, stop acting as if you never got hurt from doing something stupid." Tim grumbled. "We all make mistakes. Even you. Even Dick."
"Damn, that really had to hurt your pride if you're bringing up Dick's shit." Jason teased. He crossed his arms over his chest and Tim suddenly felt even colder without his warm touch on his skin.
"Well, it's kind of hard to forget Dick letting Deathstroke actually shoot him that one time in Russia."
"Oh yeah, that one was great." Jason threw his head back with a laugh. Tim punched him on the arm - that really wasn't funny, poor Dick - but a little smile danced on his lips as well (no, it wasn't funny, but it was so freaking stupid it was hard to talk about it with a straight face). "The look on his face was fucking precious."
"Good thing Bruce wasn't there. He'd go crazy."
"Hey, at least it would be fun to watch."
"It really wouldn't be. But don't you dare change the subject!" Tim playfully wagged his finger into Jason's face. "I want to see a scar you got because of being stupid. That's what you get for making fun of me."
"I wasn't exactly making fun of you-"
"C'mon, just show me!"
For a moment Jason watched him without a word. Tim waited for him to make another joke or show him something stupid like a papercut he got a few days ago and kept complaining about, but Jason just uncrossed his arms.
And then he gestured towards his chest, where his autopsy scars were.
"Jason-" Tim started quietly because this wasn't what he meant-
"This. This is what happened because I was being stupid." Jason ignored him, continued. His voice was carefully blank. "Because I trusted someone who didn't give two shits about me and let her lead me straight to that sick fuck."
"Jason-" Tim tried again. "I didn't-"
"I know that's not what you meant." He tried to grin but Tim saw it didn't reach his eyes the way it normally did. "But that's what happened. I was stupid and I got killed."
"No. No, Jason, you weren't stupid." Tim insisted, moving so close that their breaths mixed. He cupped Jason's cheek with those awfully cold hands and stopped him from looking away from him. "You were everything but stupid. You were being strong. You were being a hero. You did everything you could to help that woman and it's not your fault that she betrayed you. Those scars aren't proof of you being stupid, they show that you survived."
Jason breathed out, wet and shaky. And then he did something even more stupid than dying, even more stupid than Dick getting shot by Slade.
He closed the last centimeters between them and kissed Tim.
I have no idea how it turned into this, they were meant to feel each other up and make out a bit lmao and now they're pining messes instead. ANYWAY hope you liked it!!
(You can take part in the game by sending me 2 characters and what they're doing!)
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kai-anderson-whore · 8 months
Note
Hey could you write some after-party smut with evan?
Yes of course I was going to add this to the kinktober list but decided not to. Anyway hope you enjoy 😊
After party (Evan peters x fem reader smut)
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Summary: you joined the ahs cast and it was the premiere of the latest season (any season you want basically) and at the after party you and Evan sneak off.
Warnings: alcohol, smut, p in v sex, handjob, wall sex, somewhat public sex too (I think that’s it)
•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.
Flashing lights from different angles by the camera crew snapped pictures of you and the cast members. Officially the premiere of the new season of American horror story.
You dressed in a black lacy slip like dress with matching heels. Your makeup was a smoky eye with bouncy curls in your hair. You looked amazing and felt it. The confidence you gained with that outfit was on a whole other level and you weren't mad.
You mingled with everyone having a laugh. Soon enough it was the after party. You already feeling a buzz from the small amount of alcohol you had previously consumed. Music played everyone conversed in different parts of the place. You preferred the after party's to the premieres less of a social interaction more of a celebration.
You chatted with co-stars drinking some more alcohol. Gradually Feeling more of a buzz. You saw Evan approaching you and the three others you were talking to, you felt nervous sure you both got along great during your time filming together. But you in fact grew to have somewhat of a crush on the actor.
"Hey y/n you did great on the show" he praised, it was your first major acting gig. "Thank you Evan" you smiled taking a sip of your drink. "Can I get you another drink?" He asked seeing your drink was almost empty. "Sure" you smiled feeling butterflies in your stomach following him to the bar.
...
You didn't know how it happened one minute you were drinking at the bar with Evan next you were stumbling into a unused room with the building.
Your lips fighting for dominance your hands pushing Evan's blazer off his shoulders and on to the floor. Evan's hands on your hips holding you close to him. "God your so beautiful" he mumbled, his lips brushing against your nude lipstick covered ones.
Your lips reconnected swallowing each others moans. Evan's hands moved to the straps of your dress sliding the flimsy strap off your shoulders till the dress fell to the ground. Hands all over each other whet your desire for one another even more.
You began to unbuckle the belt holding his trousers up. Unzipped the zip of his pants, you could see the outline of his semi-hard cock. Swallowing a lump in your throat he was bigger than you expected. Slipping your hands into his boxers stroking his cock, feeling him grow harder under your touch, soft moans escaping his lips.
You smirked watching how his face showed pleasure, his hips bucking up towards your hand. You pulled your hand away from him. Evan's own hands placed themselves on the backs of your thighs "jump" he instructed which you did wrapping your legs around his waist.
You bit your lip in anticipation excited for what's to come. Your body was pinned to the wall making you shiver at the coldness. Evan moved your panties to the side lining himself up with your entrance. "Fuck" you hissed at the slight stinging sensation. "Your so wet, so tight" he groaned through gritted teeth. Your pussy greedily taking him. You felt full already and he wasn't all the way in. His cock stretching you out perfectly.
He slowly entered himself but by bit till he bottomed out. His head on your shoulder you felt so good around him already, he couldn't get enough.he started thrusting into you a hum leaving your lips, one arm wrapped around his shoulder the other tangled in his locks.
Your body jolted upwards with each thrust Evan delivered. It wasn’t like anything you had before, each thrust drive you insane better than the other. “Feel good?” Evan smirked pulling away from your neck. “Mhmm” you nodded unable to speak. “Use your words” his smirk grew knowing he had an effect on you.
“F-fuck it feels so good E-Evan” you managed to get out you grasped his tie pulling him to kiss you. Your warm lips dancing with his as he fucked you against the wall. You were sure you’d look a mess once you were done but you didn’t care all you cared about was how good Evan was making you feel.
You took Evan’s bottom lip between your teeth slightly pulling on it making him gasp. You took that opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth exploring it. You moaned against him as his pace became more harder hitting that spot that makes you see stars.
Evan felt like he was going to explode, you felt so good around him. Warm and inviting he was addicted to you already. “I’m so close” you moaned out rather loudly, almost certain that anyone walking past would hear. “Let go, go on” Evan coaxed your orgasm a hand trailing down your body’s to your clit. You felt that knot forming rather quickly than you’d like to say.
With a few more thrusts your orgasm ripped through you.your head hung back on the wall, hips bucking up against Evan. His thrusts got more sloppy till his own high followed a few seconds later.
You both calmed down your legs still wrapped securely around Evan’s waist scared in case your legs won’t work in your favour. Carefully Evan placed you on the floor, you held onto his shoulders to steady yourself with shaky legs. You scurried around to find your dress and fix your panties while Evan tucked himself back into his trousers.
“We should get back to the party” Evan spoke up after a brief moment of silence. “Yeah we should” you giggled lightly noticing that his tie was all disheveled. You fixed his tie for him before leaving the room discreetly luckily no one show you both.
“Where were you two” your co-star Finn asked when you walked back into the room everyone was in. You froze on the spot trying to think of an excuse. “Y/n needed fresh air it’s too hot in here and we were having a conversation so I went with her” Evan said you mentally thanked him.
“Okay well come on let’s get another drink” Finn says dragging you both to grab a drink.
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