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neonovember · 9 months

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Oh. My. God. Oh my god but imagine though, waking up around 8 or 9 or so on a day off where both you and Carmy have the day free. It’s a big deal maybe because oh my god Carmen’s in bed at 9 in the morning *affectionate sarcasm* holy moly Carmen settle down!

But just waking up with him, the sun coming through the window through the thin curtains with a little breeze, looking over and watching Carmy’s face form into the softest, most precious smile, his eyelashes fanning his cheeks as he slowly comes to and lets out a little sigh “Morning” his voice is all husky from sleep and lack of use. You smile back with that sweet giddiness and relaxation in filling your body as you softly whisper good morning back to him. Watching him shift as he sits up to lean over and place a long, soft and slow and tender kiss over your lips, still with that little smile on his lips (I am about to exPLODE-)*CRYING!!!!!!*

okay okay, i know i wrote a drabble similar to this idea here, and for some reason my mind fell back to the night before..y'all, imagine the night that resulted in a soft, needy carmen spending the day in bed with you, all sore and a mess of slick and cum-

Midnight Cars

summary: You’re not about to fuck in the car park. So you end up fucking in the car park. Your apartment’s one at least.

a/n: read @nolita-fairytale fic's about fiance!carmen, and god did that get my gears going. Her series is a mf masterpiece! Fiance Carmen is dirtyyy, even for Berzatto himself. There's public sex, I'm talking Carmen is knuckles deep in you swallowing you with praises whilst a few feet away from Auntie Susie, public.

warnings; filth, utter FILTH, this is kind of insane even for me, car sex, public sex, fingering, dry humping, cowgirl (yeehuh!) but carmen's doing all the work, fiance!carmen, wrap it before you tap it lmao, 18+ explicit, feral and a little deranged carmen, possesive! carmen

The tangy burst of vermilion and cherry grasps your tongue as you tilt the rounded bowl of your drinking glass towards your lips, gliding your tongue to catch any wayward drops of the wine being poured by waiters dressed down in black and white.

Your eyes don’t leave the dirty blond tresses that had long broken from their gelled back form through the night's progression sitting atop Carmen’s head. You can’t help the giggle you let out from your position against the bar, watching him join in a very drunk, but surprisingly harmonised rendition of “Ain't No Mountain High Enough" By Marvin Gates.

His tie sits undone around his neck, and his face is sort of flushed from the extended night, his cheeks a tinty rose and his lips turned red from his repetitive swipes of his tongue across them nervously.

All inhibitions are gone now, and you're able to indulge in the site of a carefree Carmen, left unaware of the never ending responsibilities he carried by the honey haze of a night just for him and his award winning restaurant.

The low lights of the speakeasy room sets the air into a mellow haze, hints of cocoa and aged bourbon waft through the corners of the room, across half finished plates of food on tailored tables, and the stage where your Carmen had won the very award that now sits dangerously close to the edge of your table.

You knew the James Beard Association was prestigious, but god had they truly left you dumbfounded when you stepped into the low lights of the speakeasy.

You didn't even know places like this still existed.

The speakeasy was tucked in a bricked alley, unassumingly between an Italian and a car park. You wouldn’t have ever guessed it to boast this attraction, with aged vintage black and white photos of late singers who’d sung on that very stage years ago hanging across the walls, polished dark exposed wood and velvet booth seats in corners surrounding round tables, even the parlour looked like it was out of an 80’s bar house. You think if you shut your eyes and reached out you would have touched the sequence dress of Etta Jones.

Carmen didn't get drunk, not often anyways, and even now, after winning the prestige of “Chicago's Up and Coming Restaurant of the Decade”, he waved off every raise of a glass towards him.

Carmen felt a level of unease at even touching a drop of liquor whilst driving you both home, no, every fiber of his being screamed at him to keep you safe at all times, and the taste of bourbon held nothing against the taste of you.

That didn’t stop him from enjoying himself, in fact he felt an unnatural sense of bubbly relaxation fall over him as his gaze fell towards you, sipping on a glass, looking the very bit the picture of gorgeous he’d ever seen.

Carmen had always been horrible at these sorts of things, getting doted on, sucked up to, boasted to. He hated every second of it, but even he can attest to the absolute wonder of a night this has been. He glided you against the dance floor, under the iridescent glass panes of the skylight window, the soft crescent moonlight shining through in a way that bounced against the glitters of low hanging ambient lighting and shimmers of dresses and disco balls.

The dance floor had been packed with family and friends but then? Then, it had felt like the entire world had stood still, it had felt like it was the both of you, infinitely, you in his arms like it was meant to be, forever.

And now you looked across to him, with those eyes, those fucking eyes of yours, comfortable in the vision of your gorgeous man looking at you under hooded lids, his bottom lip sunken into his mouth. The hint of a smirk tucks at the corner, and it takes everything in you not to jump at him then.

You motion with a manicured finger, and his eyes catch yours in a second, despite being in a group of people currently huddled around him, eager faces hanging onto his every word. He leaves them, in the middle of a mountain of questions they prodded at him, towards you, following your every desire, always, until the very end.

“I see congratulations are in order, Chef” You softly reply, when he makes it close enough that you take in the veins trailing up his forearm, left bare from his rolled up sleeves. The vision shoots straight to the heat building in your belly, and you have to press your drink to your lips to stop the bubbly moan from escaping.

Carmen looks down at you from his height, eyes trailing down the cut of your body hugging dress, lingering on your snug hips catching against the silky black fabric.

He wanted to feel them beneath his hands as he took you.

“Oh yeah?” Carmen replies, his voice like silk fluttering across your body. Heady in that way it always is.

“Mhm, but I didn’t get to really say anything since you were busy with the rest of them” You don’t have to gesture for Carmen to know about the huddles of people crowding his every move. Another thing he disliked about these sorts of things, they took him away from you.

“Does my girl feel neglected?”

“No” You draw out. “ I just want to show you how proud I am” You whisper through dark lashes. Carmen trails a tattooed fingers across your jaw, letting glide against the smooth skin until it bumps against your lips. Trailing your bottom lip fervently, his own pulled into his mouth.

“And how are you going to congratulate me hm?”

“That will just ruin the surprise, won’t it?”

Carmen let’s put a chuckle, before leaning into the crook of your neck

“Careful..you know I don’t like it when you keep things from me”

You can’t help the shudder that crawls up your spine at his words, flashes of being bent over his desk, of being pushed onto your knees corrode your mind and you feel the burning ache travel to your core.

Carmen tilts his head, a hint of a smile on his lips as he watches you, eyes glinting in want.

“No? You’re not gonna tell me?” Carmen replies in a low voice, and as he trails his thick digits across the sides of your dress, bunching up the silk material.

He trails his thick digits across the bodice of your dress, his hands dipping into the spill of cleavage before trailing it to the sides of your dress, bunching up the silk material. Surely he’s not?

“Mhm” Carmen nods, eyes flickering to you, reading your mind as he takes you in appreciably. His pupils are blown out in lust, the familiar ceruleans dipping into a depth only reserved for you.

You let out a squeal when you feel Carmen’s fingers trail up the slit on your thigh, squeezing the naked flesh before tracing his fingers along the lace trim of your panties. You’re up against the bar, shielded by the low ambient lighting and Carmen’s huge back obscuring every manoeuvre of your body to his every desire.

“Carmen-“ You admonish, eyes darting across the room now filled with happily drunk family and friends dancing or laughing amongst each other.

However your admonishment is light hearted, it trails off into the air when you feel Carmen press against you, then, you don’t really care, you miss him too goddamn much to.

“Been watching you the entire night you know? When you were dancing with your friends, god I wanted to drag you from the floor and just take you in the fucking coat closet” Carmen muses, his lips brushing against the pulse point behind your ear. Your drink long forgotten on the bar counter, your hands now gripping his shoulders as you bite back a moan.

“Yeah, just thinking about wrapping these thighs around me and letting that pussy grip me for hours”

“You’d take it all, right honey? You’ll be my good girl?” Carmen grunts out softly

All you can let out is a half hearted nod, your eyes falling dangerously closed as Carmen prods and sucks against every sliver of skin he can get ahold of.

His deft thumb drags along the fabric of your undergarments, cupping your mound as you let out a sharp exhale, making approving noises as the slick that has begun to already begun to drench your panties.

“Already wet for me Darling?” Carm replies, the hint of mirth surrounding his voice doesn’t allude you, and if you didn’t want to keep chasing that sweet friction of Carmens thumb against your heat you would have shoved him.

“Please Carm” You exhale with a sharp breath, trying to grind your hips onto the palm of his hand. He strokes you softly, featherlight touches that barely feel like anything.

And this man, this goddamn man, laughs. A roll of a chuckle rolls through his body and you want to scream at the denial of the pleasures he's keeping from you, before his deep baritone voice replies.

“All you had to say was please”

His rough fingers sink into your heat, it’s silky, and rough and hits you like liquor, straight to the building pressure. He drags your slick through your folds, arching his fingers ever so slightly when he bumps up against your clit. Never fully putting any pressure on that precipice of pleasure you want to dive head first into.

Dipping a thick tattooed digit into your tight hole, Carmen lets out a groan at the way you grip him so tightly, masking your pitched moan at the feeling of him circling his thumb against your bundle of nerves and stretching you out with his thick digits.

Carmen is practically holding you up, his large bicep wrapped tightly around your waist as you sink your teeth into his shoulder, letting the skin absorb the litter of stuttered mewls you let out at the swipes of his thumb against your clit.

The coil begins to tighten, and you can faintly hear Carmen softly whisper sweet nothings, proclamations, declarations, praises. They fall from his mouth like honey and push you further up the cliff.

“I know sweet girl, taking it so well, just keep taking it, let me make you feel good, yeah?”

A second finger joins the first, dragging your sopping slick up your folds, before dipping into your tight hole. Rough fingers massage up against your walls that grip him so tightly, Carmen knows your body inside and out, and it doesn't take long for him to find the soft spongy patch of skin deep within you, curling a third finger up into that spot, roughly thrusting into relentlessly.

Carmen watches the way your pussy swallows his thick tattooed fingers, thrusting them out slicker and wetter each time, the image has his jaw and slacks tightening and it takes everything in him not to sink his entire length into against the bar counter, fuck whoever else.

Your hips buckle beneath him, and he grips you harder into his chest, his mouth presses bruising kisses along your neck, jaw, clavicle. Your heated moans fail to reside in you as you begin to cant your hips into his hands, rubbing your clit rapidly on the flat side of his palm. The coil tightens within you, and you roll your eyes back, letting out a bubbling of half syllabus, your brain a mush from the saccharine pleasure curling your toes.

“M’ fucking you dumb baby? You getting off so good on my fingers you can’t speak?” Carmen groans out, he can’t stop himself from canting his hips forward, his erection bumping into your stomach.

The feeling of him pressed and thrusting against you, outlined by his suit pants is a vision that breaks you entirely, and you can’t even blink before you feel the band snap, the delicious white hot burn spreading through you like a wildfire.

“Carmen..s-..gonna” You manage to let out with a breath, and Carmen knows already, of course he does. He’s knuckles deep in you now, and his relentless rutting is inescapable, you can fucking feel him in your bones, down to your goddamn marrow. He continues his rapid thrusts into you, refusing to relent, pushing you further, and further through the waves of your unending.

Your head lulls back, but Carmen catches it with his arm, his mouth slatted over yours as you fail to keep in the loud yell of his name from your lips.

Carmen swallows your stuttered mewls, your swears, your please, he swallows it all and keeps it for himself. His tongue darting across the inside of your mouth, swiping along the roof of your mouth, across your front teeth.

His fingers continue to thrust into you, helping you ride through the burst of colours and stars that light your vision beneath your lids. You're pushed up against his hard chest, and it takes some time for your limp body to come back to life, your head a daze of pleasure.

“S’fucken good girl”

Carmen mutters so softly, almost to himself, his fingers are still cupping your heart, whisper grazes of his thumb against your drenched folds.

as he fixes your dress, smoothing the wrinkles formed, flickering his eyes to yours in a sweet smile.

Through hooded lids, you see a man approach you both, interrupting the heated gaze Carmen imprints down to your very bones. Carmen slinks his hand back, discreetly popping those deft digits into his mouth with a low groan, before wiping them on his suit pants. He carefully fixes your dress, smoothing the wrinkles formed, flickering his eyes to yours in a sweet smile as if he hadn’t just fucked you up into his knuckles, and goddamn tasted you.

The scene causes a shudder to roll down your back, reigniting the heat deep inside you once again, you never thought you could be this depraved, this-, but the way he sinks into you so perfectly has you nodding to every desire he has. He was a goddamn drug.

Your body is still recovering from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you feel Carmen's heated gaze on you as you try and coherently respond to the stubby man who’d interrupted you both. The man rambles on, clearly oblivious to your state, too focused on the sound of his own voice. You nod along to his words, something about a farmers market or an Indian restaurant that had opened, but you're jittering in your heels and you can barely stand, opting to lean against the bar counter.

You look towards Carmen, to find him staring at you, amusement lighting his cerulean blues as he takes in your insatiability. Hell, it took him god near everything to not fling the man to the other side of the room so that he could probably taste you.

Remind him again why he agreed to this?

It gets to maybe the second inception of an animated story before Carmen is bidding the man goodbye with a shake of a hand, and all you can do is swallow the desire that no doubt has you salivating by the second. God if Carmen had made you wait even one more minute you would have tugged on his shirt like some petulant child.

“Took you long enough” You murmur, when Carmen eases out into the speakeasy car park with a hand against the small of your back.

A soft laugh escapes Carmen, scratching at his jaw as he shakes his head.

“If I didn’t already know, I would think you're the one that hates these things” Carmen murmurs with a teasing smile, as you make your way to the sleek black car that camouflages against the midnight.

You make a sound that sounds close to a snort, “Not when it keeps me from jumping my fiances bones” Your engagement ring seems to glisten at those words, and you don't miss the way Carmen’s eyes flash with a look of hunger, adoration, glee, even possession all mixed in one.

You’d been his since the moment he laid eyes on you, that was a given. Putting a ring on your finger just gave him something to latch onto, a mark that told the world you were finally his.

It anchored him, it made him feel good. It eased the anxieties that would flood his mind, washing them away like a current every time he kissed that damn princess cut.

Carmen wasn’t exactly all that sentimental, but with you? God did he mutter till death do us part like it was tattooed onto his tongue. And even then, when he’s a zombified version of his human self, traveling the underworld soullessly he’d find you.

Oh were you Carmen’s, but wasn’t he yours too?

“Language sweetheart, you make me sound like a piece of meat” Carmen murmurs teasingly shuffling so that he’s leaning over your body pressed into the passenger seat door.

“Language? Your talking about modesty after you just-” Your cut off by Carmen's rough finger pressed against your lips

“Would be careful about what you're going to say next sweetheart” Carmen raps in a low voice, tracing his finger against your bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed as if the motion of his fingers brushed up against you was of utmost importance.

You gulp back the words you wanted to say, Carmen's blown out eyes flicker from yours to your lips, and you lift your head towards him. Carmen catches you with a hand wrapped around your jaw, pushing you further against him as he crashes his lips sweet against your own. Swiping against your bottom lip, dipping into the heat of your mouth as he groans against the taste of you.

“So sweet,” Carmen murmurs into the kiss, before pulling back. Amusement clouds over lust filled eyes at your immediate anger against his denial

“What about my surprise?”

“You can’t really get to enjoy the full experience in a public car park on Michigan Ave” You whisper, suggestivity laces your tone as you feel the heat of embarrassment flood through you. You were not good at this stuff, and yet the sharp sound of Carmen’s soft groan causes you to lift your eyes up to meet him.

“Then what are we doing standing here?” Carmen replies with a growl, it erupts from his chest, and as you stare up at him, you finally take in the wolfish expression on his face. He look’s insatiable, goddamn animalistic as he eyes you carefully, a darkness that prods at his blues.

You let Carmen place you into the passenger seat, the resounding click of the seat belt the only sound in the stretch of silence between you both. A heaviness laces the air in the car as you ride home, a headiness, a lurking desire beneath the illuminating light of the console, and the flashing lights of Chicago sitting against tinted windows.

Carmen spreads his thighs across the drivers seat leisurely, resting a hand on the steering wheel, whilst the other grips your thigh tightly. There's going to be a bruise there tomorrow, and you can't help but preen at the thought of his mark on you hours later.

You count the seconds that tick by as Carmen rolls into the basement garage of your shared apartment, parking silently as he cuts the engine and remains unmoving, except for his hand gripping your thigh which he squeezes periodically.

Carmen cuts his gaze towards you, the wolfish expression that overtakes his features and turns him into a predator tells you all you need to know, but his eyes soften ever so slightly, almost telling you the next move is up to you.

Carmen doesn't need to hear the seat belt unclasping before he's tugging you on his lap with rough skillful hands. His erection pushed against the softness of your belly as groan out in blissed relief, Carmen can’t help himself, grinding his hips up into you frantically.

“Need” Carmen breathes out heavily “Need to feel you, need to be inside of you. Right now, right fucking now” Carmen groans.

There is a fumble of clothes being ripped and thrown into the backseat, and Carmen shifts the driver's seat to lean back a little. The position is unforgiving, your back is pressed against the wheel, and the space is too small, but strangely, it’s a tight proximity you crave, too long have you gone without the ecstasy of Carmen’s skin against yours.

You settle your thighs on either side of him, his deft fingers drawing soft circles across your hips, his pressing fervent kisses along your jaw causing you to fall into the crook of his neck.

“Please, sweetheart, let me feel you, let me see you, shh, it’s alright, let me feel you” Carmen hums into the heat of your skin, tasting your sweat with the flat of his tongue as he grips your hips gently.

You lift them, and with Carmen's help, you finally, after what felt like centuries, sink onto Carmen's length, the sobbing slick drenching your folds causing him to slip in easily, eliciting a breathless groan from him as he feels the heat of you wrap around you.

You can hardly breath, all you can feel, all you can taste and see is him, the delicious stretch that comes with the first sink into you is glorious, its fucking ineffable. The entirety of his length sinks into you to the hilt, and you feel every vein and ridge of him graze against your tight walls as you let out a strained whimper into Carmen's shoulder.

“ ‘S Fucking velvet, pussy grip’s like a goddamn vice every time sweetheart” Carmen praises, pressing kisses to your skin, his eyes shut as if he was memorising the feel of you, savouring it in his mind like it was the last time.

Carmen always gave you a few moments to get comfortable around his thickness, but there was a neediness in the way he held you, like you would turn to dust if he let go, and the restraint he held earlier falls apart as makes that first thrust up into you without warning.

You cry out as the blanket of pleasure courses through you, your heart is in your throat, you can barely breath, and you throw your head back cause god don’t you want more.

You press your nails into his shoulder as you try to lift your hips, eyebrows furrowed at the feeling of pleasure that fills you with every inch of him that glides against your walls, your clit, your slick. You’re a mess, and Carmen tugs at your hips, sick of waiting, and thrusting into you mercilessly, maintaining an unforgiving pace as you quake above him.

“Take me so goddamn well, huh sugar? Doesn't my wife take my cock so well?’ Carmen grunts, his eyes watching the way his length sinks into you and leaves glistening with your slick. The sight nearly tears him into his undoing, nearly causing him to spurt into you, if only he had a damn polaroid.

Your head brushes against the roof of the car as Carmen pistons into you, his hands gripping your hips as he slams you onto his length, rutting into you as the velvet of your walls cling to him. It was like goddam silk wrapped around his length, the gooey slick of your arousal coating his every ridge, dripping down onto his balls and between the space where he’d thrust into you.

A litter of profanities fall from his mouth with every stuttered thrust of his hips, its uncontrolled, and Carmen shows no restraint, no signs of stopping as he chases the wet softness only you have, the decadent caramel, your natural addicting scent, the car fucking stinks of you, and it takes everything in Carmen not to rip you off him and drink from you like a fountain elixir.

His tip brushes against your cervix, thrusting impossibly deeper with every move of his hips, he changes his position, and it causes his length to brush up against that spot that causes stars to burst in your vision. You practically arch your back against him, lifting your hips up when you feel the white hot pleasure that drips down your back, exploding your senses.

“No no no, fucking take it” Carmen snarks, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you down deeper, further onto his length, till your filled to the brim, your slick gushing out of you.

A shudder rolls through you and the sound of Carmen's low voice, dipping into something untapped, something animalistic and merciless, something that would pull every drop of pleasure from you until you were a sobbing mess.

You roll your hips against his length, a shaking, stuttering mess of gurgling words and cries as you grind your clit against Carmen's length, whilst the girth of his thrust into the spongy spot within you that leaves you heaving.

The familiar burn of a coil tightens within you, and as Carmen presses a thumb against the swollen bundle of nerves, circling it softly. The contrast of his soft feather touches against your clit paired with his unforgiving pace thrusting into causes you to keen, arching your back against him as Carmen murmur below you fervently, like he's chanting something, worshipping every curve of your body.

“Open your eyes pretty girl” Carmen murmurs, the soft voice of his voice comes back, the rough demeanour falling away like dust as he takes in the signs of your closeness.

“Please Carmen” You beg, you don't know what for, but it seems like everything from the pleading lilt of your voice. Give me everything Carmen, your love, your pleasure, your skin and bones.

“I know Baby, I know, let me see you yeah? Let me see those pretty eyes” Carmen prods gently

You squeeze your eyes open and the vision that finds you almost snaps the coil tightening deep within your gut, bellowing with heat and pleasure that sizzles below your skin like electricity.

Carmen lies beneath you, his cheeks red with heat and blushing desire, his eyebrows are furrowed, and below them, below them lie cerulean blues that glaze over in a daze, hooded lids with curls lashes that brush against cheekbones. It’s like he's in a trance, his pupils blown out in lust and something else as they watch the bounce of your chest against him each time you shealth yourself onto his thick, hard length.

White teeth pressed into reddened lips watch you eagerly, imprinting you into his mind forever, he wanted you like this always, taking every inch, screaming nothing but his name.

“Fucking gorgeous”

The lilt of his voice, grown husky and low from pleasure breaks something in you, and you aren’t able to warn him, before you arch your back impossibly, driving yourself roughly onto his hips as you get the wave of pleasure wash over you. Colours of vermilion, blue, of the wine you had drunk and Carmen's cologne burst under your lids, on your tongue, everywhere. Carmen groans loudly below you, thrusts growing sloppy as he ruts into you desperately, chasing his own release brought on by your own unending.

Carmen barely controls the thrust of his hips into you, releasing spurts of thick cum, coating your walls endlessly. His arm wraps tightly around your waist, making you take everything he gives you, forcing you into the whirlwind of ecstasy and base desire you can’t escape from.

You both temporarily forgot about where you both are in that instance, the pleasure from the both of you transports you somewhere boneless, and for a second you feel your heart stop, the wave of pleasure that crashes over you as Carmen continues rutting into you, lengthening the wave as long as possible until you feel it swallow you both whole.

It’s somewhere between a few minutes to a few hours when you resurface, you don't know, your mind is a mess of sound and colour and the ecstatic aftershock of pleasure that still runs through you. You're nestled into Carmen’s chest, the scent of your coupling thick in the air, your thighs and the leather seat are covered with your combined slick.

The only sound between you both is your heavy breathing, you still nestled up to the hilt of Carmen, and when you slightly shift your hips Carmen shoots out a hand to stop you.

“Easy there sweetheart” Carmen replies in tight constraint, over stimulation washing over you both as the buzz of pleasure still hasn't quite dissipated.

“S-sorry” You reply, breathlessly, lifting your head tiredly to catch the soft gaze of Carmen watching you. His hands glide across your naked frame, pressing soft circles, shushing and smoothing out every shudder and shake of your legs. Carmen doesn't tell you the thought of you visibly shaking from him and he only causes his length to stiffen and his mind to reel.

“So..where’s my present?” Carmen’s teasing voice re-emerges, his eyes crinkling as you swipe at him playfully.

“You’re still in me, dick” You reply with a roll of your eyes, falling back against the hardness of his chest

“Mhm, and I didn’t even get to taste you” Carmen murmurs, tracing his fingers along the curve of your waist, cupping your ass as you shudder from his words. There was a finality in it, and you don’t know if you’ll make it to the elevator before he fulfills that very desire.

The obscenity of it, you love it, only Carmen could make you this depraved. And god do you thank him for it.

Taglist 🏷 (send an ask to be apart of my taglist for carmen)

@kpopgirlbtssvt @rooster-bradshaws

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makeyoumine69 · 3 months

Text

Call Me Babydoll 5

PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Patrick stays in your mind even after the disastrous Dorsia incident. Like a song you can't get out of your head, he continues to hum his sultry and sensual words and ways into your ears and heart. When he arrives unexpectedly with a surprise guest, he cannot deny that he is attracted to you. But is this even real?

CONTAINS: Angst, smut, masturbation (f), obsessive behavior, cursing and use of pet names, smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & hyperfixation, Daddy kink, making out, marking, biting.

WORDS: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry to make you wait so long, I hope to get in shape soon and post more often!🥰

LINKS: [Ch.4]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]

Your mind was a complete mess, your heart nothing but glass dust. The echoes of your private conversation with Patrick on the outdoor terrace of Dorsia still lingered in your mind even after you returned home, though you couldn't remember how you made it since you had declined Bateman's offer to take you to your house.

The first thing you noticed when you crossed the threshold of your home was a strong, sweet scent of flowers. It was a familiar perfume that you already hated.

"Y/n? I thought you were already asleep in your room," and there she was - your father's girlfriend named Sophia, meeting you in the hall, smiling mischievously as she caught you doing something criminal. "Where have you been?"

Sophia was a middle-aged woman with Greek roots, she was really a nice person, always so kind and friendly to you, and most importantly - she never tried to replace your mother, for which you were very grateful.

"I had dinner," you replied tiredly as you took off your coat. "Not a good one."

"Ouch…" She gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before continuing. "Don't be sad, honey. You're an incredible person and I'm sure that one day you'll meet the right person." Sophia cheered this, smiling as if her words were a prediction of the future. "With whom you will feel that everything is in the right place."

Sighing, you tried to master something close to a smile. "Thank you, Soph." As much as you wanted to share your worries with her, you couldn't because she could tell your father everything. "I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep right here."

"Go rest," she mused, watching you go upstairs. "Tomorrow your father and I are going to visit my family."

"Good luck with that." You replied before disappearing from her vision.

It was obvious that you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, thanks to the endless thoughts that looped in your head like a broken record.

Why did you ever think that a man like Bateman could really take you seriously? You felt deceived, embarrassed and madly frustrated, because at the end of the day, Patrick was just playing with you like a toy, twisting you perfectly around his finger.

Fidgeting in your bed, you accidentally recalled the memories of the day he was here - you could still feel the remnants of his hypnotizing cologne as your sheets smelled of him. A lonely tear slid down your cheek, outlining the beautiful shape of your face - now so dull and dejected.

If only you could rewind time and not allow him to get close to you, not even for an inch. Sobbing, you curled up like a kitten, pressed your knees to your chest and tried to drift off, but every time you closed your eyes - his gorgeous face popped up in your mind, making you believe that he really had blessed you with a curse. A curse to be obsessed with the man who would never be yours.

It had been a week since you had seen Bateman, and somehow you had even managed to live through your depression and hide it from your father, although it was quite difficult due to his numerous questions about your sad face and bad mood. At work, some of your co-workers were also trying to figure out what was wrong with you, so you finally decided to take a few days off to relax and get your life back on track.

In the morning of one of those days, you suddenly found yourself writhing on the sheets, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. With an irritated groan, you threw the blanket aside, accidentally touching your painfully hard nipples.

Oh shit, not again.

Closing your eyes, you didn't even notice that you were dreaming about him for the third fucking time in a row. You let out a muffled gasp as your trembling hand snaked down your belly between your half-opened legs to the center of your desire.

It was just impossible to resist.

"Aww, Daddy," you moaned softly, imagining it was his hand caressing your taut folds. "Please...I need more..."

Embarrassed but absolutely horny, you spread your legs wider, letting your own digits slide along your dripping pussy, and kept picturing his beautiful face as he praised you for being such a good girl for him.

A loud gasp echoed through your room at the memory of his velvety, deep voice, playing in your head as if Bateman was really here, next to you, his hand wrapped tightly around your trembling throat as he wanted nothing more than to bring you to your climax, to see you collapse right before his dark hazel eyes.

"Mmhm, Patrick..." you frowned and shivered, your ministrations growing more impatient as you rubbed circling motions into your throbbing clit while feeling the impending orgasm building in your core. "Patrick, Patrick, please!"

To muffle your obscene moans, you had to bite the pillow next to you as you reached your climax, never stopping to massage your feverish nub.

'You are so naughty, Babydoll. Look at the mess you have made.'

The echo of his sexy voice resounded in your clouded mind, prolonging your intense orgasm and you couldn't help but cradle your breast, only to pinch your hard little tip as you craved more.

But unfortunately, after the haze of ecstasy wore off and you were finally able to think clearly, the bitter realization that it was all an illusion washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you completely broken. It felt as if you had put all your energy into getting that high, and now you could barely move, feeling satisfied yet devastated.

Over the next few hours, you showered several times and refused to leave your room, no matter how much your father and Sophia tried to convince you. Shame and despair were eating you alive from the inside out, draining all your positive emotions like parasites.

Whenever you tried to distract yourself by reading, you were annoyed by your mind tricks because every character's name starting with the letter P automatically became 'Patrick'.

You hated that man for infesting your mind, body, and soul. Before meeting Bateman, you even thought you were frigid, but now...now you were ready to climb on the walls from the consuming desire to be...possessed? Owned? Marked?

A loud knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you barely stopped yourself from squeaking - all these days, since you started having nasty dreams with Patirck, you felt like you were doing something bad and someone from your household could catch you. Quickly you approached the door to your room and after unlocking it, you let your vision - which turned out to be your father - in.

"I thought you were taking a nap," he chuckled, but then his face changed when he saw your tired eyes. "Are you sure you're not sick, (y/n)?"

"I'm not sick, Dad," you rolled your eyes and crossed your hands over your chest, ready to be lectured again. "Did something happen? I was in the middle of proofreading."

Your father hummed, tilting his head to the side. "You took a few days off to work at home?"

Scowling with annoyance, you leaned against the door and mumbled: "It helps me relax and clear my head."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that Patrick is here," you felt the ground disappear under your feet as he spoke. "He came to sign some papers and I thought you might like to join us in the living room. Soph made your favorite apple pie."

This information made your temples ache with tension, and you had to massage them to ease the stabbing pain. "Father, I... I'm not really in the mood for guests."

Especially when this guest was Patrick Bateman.

Your father just sighed and stepped back, which meant he wasn't going to try to convince you. Most of all, you hated to upset your family, even though you didn't want to see Bateman, not after the things that had happened to you during these long, crazy days.

"Okay, okay," you knew you would regret it, but now you didn't see any other option. "I'll be back soon."

With that, you closed the door, feeling the panic rising in your chest. It seemed that your father still thought that you were still on good terms with Patrick, since you had not told him anything about that damn dinner. Trying to pull yourself together, you quickly went to the mirror to freshen up a bit - the fact that you were worried about what Bateman would think of your appearance still bothered you, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you finally came downstairs, wearing a short black top and your favorite tight jeans, and no, you weren't trying to impress him - a little spice wouldn't hurt.

As you approached the living room, you began to hear a cacophony of different voices: your dad's, Sophia's, and another unfamiliar female voice that made you stop in confusion around the corner. Who was that?

"(Y/n), don't be shy, come here." Your father's comment made you frown and bite your lip in embarrassment as you felt like you were transferred back to your childhood.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the living room and immediately became the center of everyone's attention. Your eyes quickly found the owner of the unknown voice - a pretty blonde girl sitting next to Patrick with a small notebook in her elegant hands.

Another blonde, huh?

Putting on a friendly fake smile, you managed to hide your frustration and walked closer to the couch to take a seat next to your father, completely ignoring Bateman's intense gaze.

"Uh, this is Jean, Patrick's assistant," your father introduced the blonde girl to you, and she smiled shyly when you raised your eyes to her. "Jean, this is (y/n), my lovely daughter."

"Nice to meet you, (y/n)," Jean murmured and turned to look at Patrick, as if looking for his approval. When he said nothing, she continued. "Patrick has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" You replied skeptically, your hands already crossed over your chest as you desperately tried to keep your composure. "How nice."

Somehow your father managed to notice the growing tension between the two of you, and his little cough caught everyone's attention. "Sorry, my throat gets dry from time to time."

"No need to apologize, Mr. (y/l/n)," Bateman suddenly joined the conversation, causing you to almost jump in your seat. "How about your lovely daughter making us some drinks?" His white-toothed smile was blinding, but you did your best not to react to this provocation.

"Yeah, sure. I'll make them." You stood up quickly, seeing this as a great opportunity to escape.

"Let me help you!" Jean suddenly suggested.

"No no no, you don't have to!"

"Hey, let her help you," Patrick put forward and tapped Jean's knee several times, which you couldn't miss. "It's better not to refuse people's help, because we live in such a cruel world. You know what I mean, (y/n?)"

His smug wink at you made your hands clench into fists, but you decided not to argue with him and just stumbled out of the living room, hearing Jean's soft footsteps behind you.

In the kitchen, the two of you didn't try to strike up a conversation, feeling uncomfortable but not hostile. With casual confidence, you took out two glasses and three cups under the attentive gaze of Patrick's assistant.

"Whiskey for the boys and coffee for the girls," you hummed to yourself, finally glancing at Jean, who was standing shyly in the doorway. "Maybe you want something else?"

"No," she gasped when you asked her. "Coffee is fine."

"Good."

As the blonde woman watched you make the coffee, she came closer and looked around the kitchen. "'Your house is very cozy."

"Thank you," you gave her a warm smile and picked up a silver tray for the cups. "My mother used to love an atmosphere like this," your sudden confession made you stop everything for a moment and Jean noticed your tension. "She would be very touched by your compliment."

The sad undertone in your words made the woman pause and think about what to say next, and you used the moment to get additional things for the coffee, including sugar, cream and vanilla.

"I would only ask you to help me with this," you nodded at the nearly full tray. "And I'll take glasses and a bottle."

"Okay," Jean picked up some napkins before taking a deep breath. "Patrick was right when he said you were a lovely girl."

Frowning, you almost spilled the last cup of coffee when you heard those words. "Uh, I don't understand why you were talking about me at all."

"Well, we talked about you when I made the reservation for your dinner in Dorsia."

An awkward silence hung in the air for some time before you managed to pull yourself together and place all the cups on the shimmering tray. "Mmhm-yeah, that dinner was something, I have to admit," you let out a nervous chuckle, not wanting to remember the events of that evening. "Do you like him?"

"W-what?" Jean blushed almost instantly, her beautiful blue eyes averted from your curious gaze and she had to fix her stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He's my boss, and I like working with him."

"Is he a good boss?"

"Yes, he is."

Satisfied with her answer, you crossed your arms and grinned. "Glad to hear it, I mean seriously," you watched her bat her long eyelashes as you moved the tray over to her. "I think you two look great together."

Exhaling, Jean took the tray and giggled sheepishly. "What makes you think that anyway?"

"I just noticed the way he looks at you," you replied frankly, picking up the glasses. "Thanks for the help. Now I have to get a drink for the boys."

With that, you cast your most sincere smile before retreating from the kitchen, and once you were out in the hall, your face became blank and dull. The things you just said - were they just some kind of masochism? You kept asking yourself as you walked to your father's office, where he kept his favorite drinks that he only served to special guests.

Carefully, with cat-like grace, you touched a doorknob when you noticed that the door was half open. Concerned, you quickly turned around and when you saw no one, you quickly opened it and stepped inside, only to freeze in shock and it was a fucking miracle that you didn't let the glasses fall down on the floor.

Bateman was standing with his back to you, so at first you hoped he wouldn't notice, but as soon as you turned on your heels, the man spun around and the sight of you made him smile mischievously and absolutely charmingly.

"Wrong door?" Patrick chuckled and shifted his position so that you could now see him holding a bottle and a lit cigar in the other hand.

"You can't smoke in my house," you said in an irritated voice. "I'm serious."

"Oh, stop it," his mocking chuckle echoed in your ears, annoying you more and more. "Your father gave me permission. Besides, he told me he had a bottle of J&B, so I decided to take it myself, since you two were very slow."

Having said that, the man puffed on his cigar and blew several rings of smoke, causing you to cover your mouth as you started to cough. The sheer arrogance he radiated was poisonous and somehow suffocating, it was like a tight rope around your neck, no snuff could affect you like that.

"Why did you send Jean with me?"

"And why didn't you answer my calls?" Bateman interjected sternly, closing the distance between the two of you.

The sudden question made you lose your balance for a second. "Calls? What calls? I... I don't even understand what you're talking about."

With a cheeky grin, Patrick took a drag on his cigar and blew right into your face. "Hmmm, let me remember," he leaned against the door and cocked his head to the side. "The one right after dinner, and the one the next day, and the one two days after that."

It was strange, because all these days no one had ever told you about Patrick's calls, and you thought that if he had really made them, your father would definitely have told you, since he wanted you two to get along so much.

"All right, let's pretend that you really did call me, but I can't understand why?"

"You seemed very upset after dinner," the man strove to parry your provocative question, though his eyes glowed with the thrill of the challenge you were giving him. "I just wanted to check on you, since your old man is worried about you too much, and... I didn't need any trouble to close the deal."

Another disappointment.

"Business above all, huh?" No matter how hard you tried to hide the pain, your voice still sounded somber.

"Shhh," his sudden touch on your lower lip caused something heavy to fall in your stomach. "Don't be like that, Babydoll. I'm just doing my job."

"Even now?" You taunted him blatantly, though your panting could be clearly heard in the room.

The sexual tension between the two of you was palpable in the air, but you both remained still, even when Bateman approached your neck to inhale your sweet scent, mixing it with the sharp smell of snuff.

What the hell were you doing?

When Bateman pulled away to place the bottle on the nearby bookshelf, he grabbed the glasses you were holding so desperately that your fingers began to curl. Then the man squeezed the cigar between his white teeth and, with practiced ease, picked you up and carried you to your father's desk. As he set you down on the wooden tabletop, he didn't let you protest, pressing his large palm over your mouth.

"Now, now, little girl," he cooed, exhaling smoke before pulling you a little closer. "C'mere, I'm going to show you something."

Carefully but determinedly, Patrick grabbed your chin and drew you closer so that your mouths were barely an inch apart. Pressing his thumb along your lips, the man forced you to part them, and in the next moment, he blew some smoke into your mouth before sealing it with his own. Intoxicated by both the smoke and Patrick's sudden intrusion, your hands clutched desperately at his broad shoulders, cramping the expensive fabric of his pinstriped suit. After all these days of desperate need for his touch, this kiss was like a sip of water in the desert; it was vital and overwhelming. With every breath you took, Bateman's movements became bolder, less tentative and more demanding; his warm hand slipped under your short top to caress your shoulder blades with feathery strokes that almost drove you to moan against his lips, but you struggled to stop yourself.

"Patrick," you gasped after breaking the kiss. "What the hell are we doing?

"You tell me, Babydoll."

"No, because it was you who told me you didn't want to be a babysitter. Did you forget?"

When you tried to slide off the desk, he wouldn't let you, pressing you closer to his strong body and finally putting his cigar in the ashtray not far from where he was holding you. "I always remember my own words…" With that, he placed both his hands on either side of your knees before moving them slowly up along your hips and God, Bateman was doing it so damn slow on purpose, forcing you to jolt from the strange tension in your lower belly - the feeling that had become your personal drug. "Oh, don't pretend you don't like it. Your body speaks for itself."

You tried to pull away from him as you couldn't stand the way his hazel eyes were stripping you down, but the more you struggled, the more Patrick grew impatient, so he just yanked roughly by your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back and expose your delicate neck, which Patrick didn't miss the chance to mark, biting your tender flesh and then sucking the mark with a muffled groan.

There was something feral about him and that 'something' was making your body respond to his every touch, every little contact.

Nuzzling your cheek, Bateman lowered one of his hands to your bare stomach, drawing invisible lines along it before suddenly cupping your throbbing pussy through the tight material of your jeans, making you squeal and shake on the desk.

Just as Patrick was about to kiss you again, you both noticed a commotion coming from behind the door and then realized it was your father, you both didn't even have a chance to move as the door was quickly opened, revealing a very compromising picture.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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chvoswxtch · 10 months

Text

sorry

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: is your savior really here to save you? can what is broken be mended?

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death, blood & violence

word count: the full number of words on this one is 4,444 and I just thought that was really fucking cool

a/n: I wanna thank y'all for being patient with this slow burn. i'm excited to say things are really about to start heating up moving forward. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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“Sweetheart.”

All the raging chaos that had been wreaking havoc on every single one of your nerve endings had suddenly stopped, like the clouds had abruptly parted, sending the perilous hurricane right back into the sea right before it could reach you. As if Death had decided not to knock, but wave a white flag of surrender instead to the only mortal being it seemed to fear.

To him.

The door knob creaked slightly when it was twisted from the other side, the lock still in place providing a barrier between you and the carnage on the other side of it. A deep sigh was muffled through the wood, and your ringing ears barely caught the low volume of that familiar gruff voice.

“S’just me. Open the door for me, sweetheart.”

Frank.

Ephemeral relief shot through your bloodstream, and the shard of glass lodged into your palm was immediately released, shattering into a thousand shiny pieces in the pool of merlot that was still flowing from your hand. Salty tears blazed down your cheeks and slipped past your trembling lips when you whispered his name.

“Frank?”

“Yeah, m’here. Open up, honey. C’mon.”

The relief that the safety of Frank’s presence brought was fleeting and very quickly overshadowed by uncontrollable rage remembering how you had wound up in this situation in the first place.

If he hadn’t left, none of this would’ve happened.

Bloodied fingers slipped over the lock and you swiftly flung the door open like a mad woman to reveal his large figure. The second that Frank tried to take a step in your direction, you shoved at his chest with the surge of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“You son of a bitch!”

Frank stumbled backwards in surprise, eyes widening slightly in shock at your unexpected outburst. When his lips parted to speak, you shoved even harder at his chest, letting your fists rain down in a frenzy against his chest like furious daggers.

“You left me! How the fuck could you leave me like that?!”

He didn’t even put up a defense as you pounded away at his chest and screamed at him, allowing you to force him backwards with every devastating blow you threw in his direction. There was a light furrow of remorse creasing between his dark brows, and if you hadn’t been so blinded by your own anger, you might have caught the guilt-ridden expression that tugged his features down.

“You fucking selfish asshole! I hate you!”

The sharp sting of your wounded palm striking against Frank’s cheek in a harsh slap didn’t even register in your brain. You couldn’t feel any sting but the one of betrayal, and the searing wrath that threatened to consume you entirely. He didn’t even flinch when you slapped him across the face. He just took it.

He let you take it all out on him; the fear, the anger, the disappointment, the hurt, the treachery, all of it.

Frank accepted every single verbal and physical lash you struck him with until you ran out of steam. As soon as the ferocity started to disintegrate into the lingering and overwhelming emotions of terror and panic, the red mist of outrage started to clear from your vision, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Walker’s dead body surrounded by a puddle of deep crimson near the foot of your bed. A choked sob caught in your throat and you covered your mouth in horror as the reality and severity of the situation started to soak in. Frank instantly tried to pull your body into his arms, and when you weakly fought against him, he moved to block your view of Walker’s lifeless body to shield you from the bloodshed. His large hands grabbed onto your arms and held them down to prevent you from moving, dipping his head to catch your gaze.

“Hey…hey, listen to me. I need you to listen real carefully. We gotta go, alright? We gotta go now. It ain’t safe here, and we ain’t got much time. We gotta go right now, alright?”

Frank didn’t give you a moment to hesitate before ushering you out of your bedroom quickly, tucking your face into his chest to prevent you from seeing the evidence of his slaughter. Your mind was a whirlwind of disarray and confusion, emotions and thoughts coming down like a tumultuous hailstorm that you couldn’t take shelter from.

He adjusted the sling on his rifle to keep one hand on it and one protectively over your head while leading you out the front door. When the sharp chill of the night time breeze swept across the glaring cut in your palm, it seemed to snap you of your clamorous haze, and you gripped onto Frank’s bicep tightly with your good hand to pause his guidance.

“Wait! My phone-”

“Leave it.”

“No, I can’t. I got them confessing on tape. I need-”

When you went to turn around, Frank clamped down onto your shoulders a little forcefully to stop you. The firm force behind his hands and the surprise from his actions stopped you right in your tracks. There was a stern look of inflexibility in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“You ain’t goin’ back in there.”

“Frank-”

“I’ll get it. Where is it?”

The clipped tone of his voice was one you were all too familiar with. It was the one he used when he wasn’t in the mood for an argument, or when something wasn’t up for debate.

“Behind the coffee machine.”

Frank gave a curt nod and handed you the keys to his truck, gently pushing you towards that direction with his palm flat against your lower back.

“Get it started. There’s a first aid kit in the back. Wrap that hand to stop the bleedin’, I’ll take care of it later.”

As Frank disappeared back into your home, you sprinted towards his truck, keeping your head on a swivel for anyone suspicious or anything out of place. Now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, you could feel the pain starting to lick at the torn wounds in your hand and across your fingers. Fresh tears welled up in your eyes, both from the throbbing affliction in your palm, and from how incredibly overwhelmed you were. A sharp hiss left your lips when you started to wrap your hand in gauze, the agony only growing louder in volume the tighter you wrapped it. You didn’t know much about first aid, but you knew enough to know to keep pressure tight on an active bleed.

The sound of the truck door abruptly opening had you jumping in your seat, and Frank shot you a look of concern at your reaction. Quickly looking away to focus on your hand, your vision started to become blurry again with warm tears, and you bit down on your bottom lip harshly to will them away. Frank set your phone down in the middle console, eyeing you warily.

“Lemme see.”

“It’s fine.”

Frank pursed his lips at your snappy response, reaching his hand over towards the first aid kit in your lap.

“Here-”

“I got it.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I said I got it.”

Frank let out a deep exhale of frustration when you raised your voice at him in another terse quip, dragging his palm down his face in agitation before putting his truck in drive and peeling off down the street. The pain in your hand was almost unbearable by the time you finished wrapping it up, and there was already a maroon bloodstain forming in the center of the crisp white material. A few stray tears slipped past your waterline when you closed your eyes, and you swiftly wiped them away, turning your head to look out the window so that you didn’t have to look at Frank.

Letting out a shaky breath, you attempted to try and control the cyclone of emotions devastating you from the inside out. There were two dead men in your home right now, and it suddenly dawned on you that Frank had killed them. A shuddering breath left your lips when you finally had a moment to process that epiphany, and you swallowed the sob that threatened to escape your throat.

“We have to call the police.”

“No.”

Snapping your head in Frank’s direction, your eyes widened in bewilderment as you stared over at him in complete disbelief and confusion.

“Yes. Frank you just…killed two police officers. They’re dead, in my home, and you weren’t exactly quiet about it. We can’t just-”

“They were gonna hurt you.”

Frank’s jaw was set harshly, making the outline of it appear even sharper. He kept his hardened gaze ahead on the dark road. The cold and detached tone of his voice stunned you silent for a moment. There wasn’t a visible shred of guilt on his face or in his voice about what he had done, and you didn’t know whether to be horrified by that or not.

When Frank’s eyes flickered over at you, the palpable anger on his face softened into something that resembled regret, as if he could see on your face how you felt about him in that moment. He urgently looked away, unwilling to see that reflection of himself in your eyes. Loosening his grip on the steering wheel, he let out a deep exhale through his nose.

“They were real cops, ran their badge numbers. We can’t call it in cause we don’t know if they got anyone else in their precinct workin’ with ‘em. I got a friend in Homeland, I’ll call her. She can handle cleanin’ up the mess and start lookin’ into ‘em, maybe find a lead.”

A layer of perplexity nestled on top of your trepidation at Frank’s words. All of a sudden, a thought emerged from the back of your mind about the whole situation, and you stared at him curiously.

“How did you get their badge numbers that quickly? And how did you know they were even there?”

Frank glanced over at you, his own face twisted in puzzlement as if you had just asked the most obvious question in the world.

“Put cameras ‘round your place when I got assigned to ya. I get alerts whenever there’s motion ‘round ‘em. Saw ‘em comin’ up on the camera and ran their badges, but then I heard ‘em say somethin’ ‘bout ‘needin’ to do it quietly’ and figured that meant trouble.”

After a minute of silence, he let out another deep exhale and ran his hand through his unruly dark hair in clear frustration, shaking his head slowly while he looked back at the road.

“You never shoulda opened that door.”

You clenched your hands into fists at his accusatory tone, glaring at the side of his face while your panic swiftly subsided into defensiveness.

“They were cops, Frank.”

“Didn’t mean ya had to open the door. Cops ain’t always the good guys, you know that. You shoulda known better than to open the door for anyone-”

“You shouldn’t have fucking left me.”

Frank immediately went silent and tensed up. You watched as a muscle feathered along his strong jaw. Scoffing dryly at his reaction, you slowly shook your head in annoyance while glancing out the window, brows knitting together in agitation while you tried to figure out where you were.

“Where are we going?”

“My place. We needa lay low for a bit.”

The anger poisoning your bloodstream left no room for the excitement you would’ve felt under normal circumstances about getting to see Frank’s home. It was something you had admittedly fantasized about after several glasses of wine, imagining scenarios in which Frank would take you back to his place, and you would get to experience the real him in more ways than one. But at the moment, you weren’t sure you even wanted to be around him at all.

»»———　　———««

You don’t know what you were expecting Frank’s place to look like, but it was certainly far more empty than you anticipated. The walls were completely bare, void of anything personal, and that seemed to be the running theme. The furniture was scarce, a modest couch and simple coffee table accompanied by a minuscule wooden stand with a small tv. Apart from Frank’s black denim jacket draped over the back of the couch, his rifle on the island, and a backpack in the corner of the room, it didn’t even look like anyone lived here.

Frank had silently gestured for you to take a seat on one of the plain metal stools at the kitchen island. You hissed when he disinfected the cut above your brow, carefully placing a thin white bandage over the tiny cut, and you prepared yourself for what was next.

The alcohol swab burned, even with Frank lightly dragging it over the cut in your hand and across your fingers as quickly as humanly possible, and you swore it would’ve hurt less holding it over an open flame. He might as well have been performing open heart surgery on your palm with the way he was meticulously pulling tiny glass fragments from the cut with tweezers.

You watched intently while Frank carefully and expertly stitched up your palm. He didn’t have anything to give you for the pain other than a bold shot of whiskey, and you winced with a noise of discomfort every time the needle pierced your irritated torn flesh, weaving the jagged edges back together with the thick black thread. Frank mumbled a quiet apology whenever he heard your noises of affliction, doing his best to keep his touch light and delicate.

The silence surrounding the two of you was deafening, but you didn’t want to be the first to break it. Frank had yet to explain himself from this morning, and you were still incredibly pissed off at him for leaving. On top of that, you were also uncertain of your feelings about his nonchalance towards killing Walker and Cavella. The logical part of your brain rationalized the fact that Cavella had threatened to kill you, and he might have if Frank hadn’t shown up when he did. But Frank seemed completely indifferent about executing them.

He hadn’t even glanced at Walker’s body when he led you out of your room, like it wasn’t even there. The only shock that had been evident on his features was from your outrage towards him. There wasn’t an ounce of penitence detected in his tone when he voiced his justification. They were gonna hurt you, so he hurt them first. It seemed that simple to him, and in his black and white reasoning, there wasn’t a stitch of gray regarding repentance.

As Frank finished up the final stitch and wrapped your wound up properly, one of his large hands reached for your wrist, his thick fingers coiling around it completely. He lightly pulled your hand towards him, your fingertips barely grazing against his gray henley while he inspected his own handiwork. Frank paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought while he stared down at the gauze placed over your palm silently.

“I’m sorry.”

When your eyes flickered up towards his face, Frank was already staring at you, and his eyes were back to that warm chocolate brown that you adored. They seemed to be glowing with remorse under the dim amber light above the island. His plump lips were downturned at the corners in a frown, and you could see the guilt tinting his entire face. The heartwrenching look in his eyes nearly knocked the wind out of you. It sent a pang echoing throughout your chest, and all you wanted to do was surge forward and hug him, to do anything to make that look go away.

But you needed answers.

“Why…”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence. Your voice broke off towards the end, and you had to look away to keep the onset of tears welling in your eyes from slipping. Frank carefully tightened his hold on your wrist, tilting his head to the side slightly as he followed your movements to try and catch your eyes.

“I shoulda said somethin’ before I left. Shoulda told ya I was gonna try and work somethin’ out. I’m sorry I didn’t. I…I was angry ‘bout the file-”

“Frank, I didn't read it. Okay whatever was in there that you didn’t want me to know about, I still don’t. I don’t know where it came from, and I’m sorry I never told you about it, but I would never do that to you. And the fact that you think that lowly of me-”

Frank let go of your wrist and leaned in closer to wrap his strong arms around your back, pulling you into his chest once your resolve broke. He cradled the back of your head with one of his large hands and held it against his chest protectively, pressing his lips in a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he shushed you quietly. Once the floodgates opened, you couldn’t stop them, and every emotion that you had experienced in the past twelve hours was pouring violently out of you.

“Hey, hey…s’alright. S’alright, I’m sorry. I shoulda listened to ya. I shoulda believed ya. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just…I fucked up, alright? I fucked up, and you got hurt cause of it. This…s’all on me. M’gonna fix it, yeah?”

Frank gently ran his fingers through your hair while he held you in a tight embrace, letting you wring out all your tears into his shirt, providing the safe space you needed to navigate and expunge all your emotions. He didn’t say anything while you cried, he just held you and did his best to comfort you with his apologetic touch. You don’t know how long you sat there with him like that. It felt like every drop of moisture in your body had been depleted from your eyes, but for the first time all day, your heart didn’t feel so heavy in your chest.

Once you felt a sense of calmness after your cathartic release, you slowly retracted from his embrace so that you could get a good look at him. Frank looked absolutely desolate, and it broke your heart. There was a faint red mark burning on his right cheek, and the corners of your mouth melted downwards in shame when you reached your hand up to lightly trace beneath it with your fingertips.

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“Reckon I deserved that-”

“No, you didn’t. You saved my life-”

“After I put you in danger cause I was bein’ an asshole.”

You could see the evident self-condemnation in his eyes, and you felt guilty for contributing to those feelings of shame that he felt about himself. Frank didn’t flinch away from your touch, and you swore you felt him subtly lean into it. His sorrow filled eyes hadn’t torn away from yours once, and you couldn’t look away from him if you tried.

“I don’t hate you.”

You could see his body visibly relax at your words. All the tension in his broad shoulders and lingering in the crevices of his features seemed to evaporate, and his evident relief was illuminated in his eyes. There was the most miniscule of a smile skirting over the edge of his mouth, and you would’ve missed it if you didn’t know him so well.

“Wouldn’t blame ya if you did.”

“I don’t.”

Frank stared at you silently while he processed the unwavering tone of your candor. You could see the conflict clearly on his face, and you wanted to prevent him from losing whatever war he was waging against himself. Letting out a soft sigh, you reluctantly dropped your hand from his cheek to run it through your hair, glancing around the nearly empty apartment before looking at him again.

“What now?”

Frank sat up a little straighter when he finally let go of you and reached across the kitchen island to grab his phone.

“Nothin’ ‘til I get ahold of my contact at Homeland. ‘Til we talk to her, you stay here. And you can’t talk to no one, alright? Not Ellison, not your friends or family, no one. Can’t trust nobody right now, you got that?”

A slight furrow formed between your brows as you stared at Frank in confusion.

“Frank, someone had to have heard those gunshots. I wouldn’t be surprised if cops were all over my place right now, and two dead cops are gonna raise a lot of attention. It’ll probably be on the news. And if Ellison sees it and can’t get in touch with me, he’ll probably report me missing.”

“Better people think you’re missin’ ‘til we figure this out. No one can hurt ya if they can’t find ya.”

“But if anyone checks those cameras, won’t they know I’m with you?”

“No ones got access to those cameras but me and Russo, and I cut ‘em off soon as I pulled up.”

The mention of Billy’s name abruptly caused more inquisitions to bubble around in your head.

“Why haven’t you called Billy for help?”

A look flashed across Frank’s face that you didn’t recognize, and it was gone before you could decipher what it was or what it meant. He gave a light shrug of his shoulders as he pursed his lips.

“Got his hands full right now.”

“What…what about Steven? Aren’t you supposed to be-’

“Fuck Steven. He’s someone else’s goddamn problem right now.”

You bit your lip to contain that smile that threatened to spread seeing the face Frank pulled at your question. He spit those words out as if they tasted bitter, his large nose scrunched up in a sour expression, and for some reason that spread heat in your lower belly.

“So, you’re not his bodyguard?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows and gave you a pointed look hearing the amusement lacing your teasing tone.

“You really think I woulda agreed to that?”

“I don’t think he would have. He’s scared of you.”

Frank’s eyes seemed to sparkle with delight at that, and the faintest of smirks tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Then maybe he ain’t so stupid after all.”

A knowing smile fought its way across your lips, and a sense of relief spread through you when he mirrored it. Frank stared at you for a moment, as if there was more he wanted to say, but he quickly glanced away and grabbed his phone while standing up.

“You should get some sleep. Take the bed.”

“Frank, I’m not-”

“You ever gonna stop arguin’ with me and just do what I ask?”

Frank tilted his head to the side as he looked down at you in pure entertainment, eyebrows lifted slightly in question with a light smirk on his lips. Glancing away with a light smile, you crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head slowly before looking back up at him with a tiny grin.

“No, probably not. But your couch seems a bit small for you.”

Frank chuckled lightly, his eyes flickering over to his couch before landing back on you.

“Appreciate the concern, but I’ve slept in far worse conditions. I’ll be fine. Go on, get some sleep.”

»»———　　———««

When you awoke the next morning, you felt more refreshed than you had in months. It was hard to fall asleep initially, brain still buzzing with the cataclysmic events of the day, and the knowledge that Frank was sleeping just on the other side of the thin wall. Being on good terms again filled you with a rush at the thought of sleeping in his bed, and you may have clutched one of his pillows to your chest pretending it was him. Frank’s bed was nothing special in theory, but there was something about being nestled in pillows and sheets that smelled just like him that lulled you into a peaceful and serene sleep.

Frank was already awake when you walked out into the living room, and you could tell by the look on his face that something had happened while he had been waiting for you to wake up. He immediately stood up from the couch when you entered the living room, giving you a once over as he motioned in your direction with his chin.

“Sleep alright?”

“Uh…yeah. What’s going on?”

Frank eyed you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his next words carefully. He let out a soft sigh, turning his phone over in his hands and glancing down at it before looking back at you.

“Got a lead. There’s a location upstate the rest of ‘em might be hidin’ out at.”

That one sentence instantly sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you were suddenly wide awake.

“Where? When do we leave?”

Frank’s brows pulled together as he looked at you in puzzlement, shaking his head lightly.

“No, not we. You’re stayin’ here.”

Your lips parted as you stared over at him incredulously.

“What? No. I’m coming with you-”

“It could be dangerous-”

“More dangerous than being left alone? Do I need to remind you what happened last time you left me by myself?”

Lifting your wounded hand up as evidence, Frank clenched his jaw as his eyes flickered between your hand and your face.

“No one knows you’re here. You’re safer here-”

“I’m safer with you.”

Frank pursed his lips into a dissatisfied pout as your words hung in the air. You could see the hesitation lingering in his eyes, and you quickly pounced on it, walking over to stand directly in front of him. You stared up into his eyes with a pleading expression, shaking your head slowly as you spoke in a calmer voice.

“You can’t leave me again. I’ll stay out of your way. I’ll do whatever you say, I swear. No arguing. No pushback. Just…don’t leave me alone. Please.”

He seemed to visibly soften hearing the vulnerability laced in your voice, and when he let out a deep sigh of exasperation, you knew you had won. He gave you another pointed look, his voice dipping into a more serious tone.

“You do what I ask, when I ask. This shit goes sideways, I needa know you’re gonna listen. You got that?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

You could see that Frank wasn’t pleased about the thought of you joining him, but you knew you were safer with him in a potentially life threatening situation than you were on your own. If anyone could take these fuckers down, it was Frank, and you wanted to be there when he did.

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @annalism @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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freshbakedbreadstick · 10 months

Text

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

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

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

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

Word Count: 3.1k

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

Taglist: @marysucks-blog

PROLOGUE / MASTERLIST

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With a weak smile, you headed off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh my gosh!" Another voice said.

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

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

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

You winced a bit and smiled, "Hey…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

And in front of that crowd was Carmy.

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

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

"Carmy…" you said, voice hoarse.

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

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

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

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

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

Your shoulder sagged.

Home.

You were home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad you're okay.”

Your mouth dried up.

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

It meant that now you were okay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay Chef, break is over.” He said.

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

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all turned to you.

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

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

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hh0320 · 1 year

Text

໑ — stars in the ceiling. pt I

pair. solo singer! felix x fem! reader (+ mentions of hyunjin)

genre. set in the 90’s, childhood friends to strangers, moving back, struggle with fame, angst, romance, smut.

warnings. profanity, smoking, alcohol/drug abuse, use of pet names, flawed characters, harsh language at times, dark themes, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, mental health issues.

word count. 6.2k

a/n. hi my loves! this is going to be a mini series, though i’m still not sure how many parts it will contain. nevertheless, pls treat this idea kindly, and don’t judge its characters too hard, they’ve gone through a lot. feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated and will be replied to! enjoy xx

‘Felix will be going back to Australia for a much needed break, sources close to him reveal. The twenty-three year old alt rock singer just concluded his second world tour, Doll, earlier this week in Los Angeles, with news of his breakup with supermodel Hwang Hyunjin coming out at the same time.

The two had been dating since the Aussie’s rise to fame in 1994.’

New South Wales had remained the same, despite the unshakeable change in Felix’s chest. Barina Road had the same houses standing, fifty-year-old trees stretching, widening into the sky, hiding his parent’s garage from view, the stairs leading up to the front door. He’d paid off the mortgage, bought them a new car.

The sun was beaming, February in full display. His manager greeted his mom, and introduced his assistant, explaining they would be staying at a hotel not too far from there. His father had a beard now, his sister looked taller, and wore glasses.

Your house was around the corner. He could see the rose bushes along the hill, the white shutters with the black outlines. Felix could close his eyes and go back to your room, 1992, the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, The Cure and The Smiths’ posters on pastel pink walls, lace trimming on your sheets, makeshift forts and flashlights at midnight, notebooks with hearts drawn on folded ends, his name and yours written next to each other, hand over hand. ‘Girl Afraid’ playing softly through a cassette in a beat down radio. Your dad’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, and the determination that rushed through Felix’s veins the moment he tasted them, the promise he’d made to himself to make those same cookies for you one day, to learn how.

He never did. His demo got picked up from a record label that would later refer him to the one he belongs to now, and he had to fly out to Melbourne right before your eighteenth birthday. From then on it’s been a shooting star.

He blinks to find his mother teary eyed, arms open. He doesn’t walk—he runs. Washed out silvery blonde locks long enough to be pulled in a ponytail, brown eyes the color of wild thyme honey, hands tired, heart broken. A boy coming home is a very old story, one that will never stop being written. And even though it feels strange to be back after five years of palm trees, everything and nothing—Hollywood, with its golden gates and trophies and nightmare people— it is exactly what he needed. It’s where he has to be.

“You look so tired, baby, so frail,” his mom sobs, pressing her mouth on his temple. “Did no one take care of you? Did no one care?”

Felix didn’t answer. He brought chocolates and clothes for his sisters, jewelry for his mother, Cuban cigars for his father, and his first ever Grammy for you, because none of this would’ve been possible if you hadn’t befriended him all those years ago in the playground. If your voice hadn’t guided him away from those swings and into the forest. If he hadn’t played hide and seek with the girl that wore ribbons in her hair, dark cherries for eyes. And what does he say knowing this?

I left behind the one person that did. That mattered that it did. And when I found something similar, I couldn’t hold it in my hands, I couldn’t get close to it no matter how much I tried.

“I missed you, mom,” he mumbles instead, and grinds his teeth to keep from crying. “I should’ve called more. I should’ve visited.”

The shorter woman sniffles and rubs her son’s back soothingly, shushing him only a mother knows how to. He breathes in her familiar scent, her cooking imprinted on her purple shirt, and smiles sadly. Hyunjin would’ve loved her; he wanted to meet her the most, wanted to hear all the stories when they were in bed together, what few times they were both sober, capable of adventure and conversation till the early hours of the next day. “I never had a mom,” he’d tell him, brown strands of hair escaping his staple bun. “Cherish your mom for me, Yongbokie. Love her terribly.”

“Come inside,” she tells him, waving away the rest. “Stay forever if you need to.”

“It means happiness,” he’d explained on that first meeting with the boy shining more brightly than the chandelier lighting the entire theater. “Yongbok.”

The boy had smiled and it’d made all the difference. His lips reminded Felix of black cherries, of the girl in the room with the window overlooking the trees. “I know what it means. It’s about time I met you.”

Time away from chaos felt empty. The hours passed by slowly, serenity made him paranoid, like it couldn’t possibly last, even there, in a different continent, across the globe. Getting on an airplane didn’t guarantee you’d get away, he realized soon enough. It wasn’t possible, because you can’t outrun yourself.

And it was that Felix was trying to escape. How known he’d become, how aware of his own shadow he was. At first, he’d thought of it as a mountain to climb, something to be achieved, and then something else. It was a ladder leading up, up, up and nowhere specific, but he climbed it anyway. The little prize in his hands was the ultimate show, that one last thing he had to do that would grant him access to more of the same everything and nothing everyone else seemed to be so desperately after. After he’d won it, the decision to leave it all behind became clearer than ever.

A lot of the people he admired had died. And it didn’t matter which way you looked, destruction came in the form of white powder, accompanied by a spoon or a syringe if you were brave enough and had much to lose. “Take your pick, there’s many ways to kill yourself,” a girl had told him once at an afterparty. Young and impressionable as he was he chose by what he saw and picked up the bottle of champagne in front of him. The least harmful, he’d thought. But the sneakiest one of all. And then he saw Hyunjin smoking cigarettes after one of his fashion shows, and thought to try that too. Then it felt like something they could share, so Felix kept smoking until the cough subsided and his fingers smelled of tobacco.

One thing the model never tried to do was shield him from the horrible ways of the industry, and the blonde still can’t find it in himself to castrate him for it. Now, so many thousands of miles away as he was, the habits seemed to follow, like supportive friends. The world is a fucked up place, but it doesn’t seem so bad from where he sits on the rooftop of his childhood house. He could drop the stick from his hand, or break the golden trophy and even deny the existence of evil altogether.

How easy, how vulnerable fame is. You could be no one in particular if you made all the right choices. Felix wasn’t sure why he seemed to do the opposite, walk the other way, the reason for his selective blindness. When something shiny has your name on it you hold it close to your chest and sing to it. It’s precious because it reflects light off it.

Until when?

Your light was on.

He looked for it, looked for a car coming up the hill, watched the sun set, the blending of colors, how majestic it can all get before it fades to black, but you showed up right in the blue of it. You still drove the same Jeep your dad had gifted you for graduation, but your hair was longer, you’d grown a bit. Felix saw how your white dress danced in the summer breeze, ran his eyes down your tanned legs as you walked from your driveway inside your house, and finally, about ten minutes after that, the light through your curtains.

His mother hadn’t mentioned he was back.

He smiles down at his burning cigarette. How would he ever face you with the way he left? He never called, only wrote to you on your birthday, and released a song about a starry girl that visited his dreams, knowing very well that girl waited for him for years to return, even if just for a little while. The guilt of never doing so, and instead loving someone else so all consumingly, while that same song went on to become his best selling single, the song he’d be known for for years to come? It crippled him.

He never wanted to see your face stare back at him. He would rather die, and he admits this to himself bravely. You were his first girl, his only girl. No one would ever come close to you, because you’re clean—you have his innocence, his first time, before he knew anything about anything, and how despite it, he loved you stupidly, earnestly, because it made sense, because it felt right.

“Starry girl, will you burn bright, for me tonight? Oh, will you stay a little while, darling girl…”

How hypocritical. If Chan was around he’d be calling him out, or pushing him down the fucking roof. Felix wouldn’t even mention the broken leg or the dislocated shoulder, because it’d serve him right. Perhaps he needs a solid reminder of his aliveness, of how doing wrong by someone and paying for it feels like. La La Land doesn’t have that, it couldn’t possibly understand that. There, people look up and never down. There, they would push, and keep pushing; they would climb over, step on your neck, tear you apart at the seams for a chance to just keep.looking.up. That climb is all there is.

It’s empty too, but you learn how to miss it.

Felix thinks he might’ve sold his fucking soul, somehow, because as he gets back in the house, his mind won’t stop screaming for him to run away from there as well.

Not a place that could hold someone that’s had everything and then more of it.

Chan hates his guts twice as much as you possibly ever could, but Felix calls him anyway.

“Hello?”

“Chris. It’s me.”

A long pause. The singer falters, thinks he’s made a mistake, curses himself for ever thinking anyone would want anything to do with him after—

“You’re a fucking cunt, Felix, and I hope you burn in Hell. Sincerely.” The blonde nods, his chest tight, his throat dry. “How are you?”

He smiles. “Terrible. Fucking awful, mate, thanks for asking.”

“Good.”

“I’m in Australia.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Your white dress flows in his dreams. It folds and stretches like the wings of a butterfly. The pages of his journal stare at him, his eyes heavy with sleep, but for once nothing pours out. He thinks he’s meant to keep that to himself, and perhaps that’s okay.

Instead he writes about a broken boy that smiles for the cameras but never for his love.

His older sister works as an intern for a law firm. He didn’t know that, because he never asked. The sting of it burns all the same.

She has a fiance, is preparing to buy a house, and tells him of his mom’s sickness at a private restaurant. He didn’t know that either, but in all fairness, as his sister pointed out, no one is supposed to know. At least not yet. It’s treatable, she quickly adds, but it’s been eating her from the inside out for a couple years now. She tells him this with a straight face, probably because she’s had time to sit with it, but also because Rachel is great at keeping her feelings in check, when she knows someone else isn’t—Felix definitely fucking isn’t.

What was the saying? The artist is haunted by his own heart? Day and night. There’s never an escape, it seems, from anything.

“Tell me what I need to do,” he pleads after he calms down. “Money is not a problem.”

The older sibling grimaces at that. “It’s not about that, Lix. She has medication, she never misses a doctor’s appointment. Her body is weak.”

“She’s not dying.”

“It’s not something we can exactly stop because we want to.”

Felix clenches his fists on the table, and looks at his sister straight on. “She’s not dying.”

Rachel wipes her mouth and sips from her wine, alerting the waiter for the check. People are starting to stare. No matter where they go, eyes follow her little brother incessantly, whichever measures they take. It’s a lifestyle she cannot comprehend.

Felix doesn’t seem to notice, or care. It’s a strange thing, like a zoo animal being at peace with its captivity, despite its true nature.

“Maybe not now,” she replies softly. “But we all must face this one impending doom sooner or later, Lix. Even you. Even our mom. Death is a natural thing.”

Most people run from the inevitable, because it’s scary. Somehow, it’s believed that the end, too, could be overturned if we stall it, or cheat it. Felix never thought he’d have to worry about it, because of the invisibility of youth, and money, and having everything else at his beck and call. It was only when Kurt Cobain and Jeff Buckley died that he was touched by the cruelty of it, the dark shadows and the claws attacking through them any moving thing, at any given time. Even legends passed, even history.

It was because life was so impossibly fleeting, water held with two hands, that he decided to knock on your door. In a single moment of liquid luck, he wished to see the stars in your ceiling again. To feel the warmth of your skin near his. Chan would shake his head and call him an idiot for it, but Felix never claimed to be reasonable. Or smart.

No other car was in your driveway.

God, his blood is rushing. You’d open the door and then what? What would he say?

He didn’t want his mom to die. He didn’t want you to hate him forever. He came back with a false sense of ego—no one gave a flying fuck if he was famous, or best friends with Hope Sandoval and Chris Cornell, hell, even Jesus Christ himself. None of it mattered outside of the bubble he’d created for himself in America. He’s not from there. These people would follow him nowhere.

He feels stranded and alone, and it’s entitled and pathetic, and he’s fucking terrified.

Who is he besides his name and his money? Why does it matter so much?

The door opens. He’s holding his breath.

You gape. Then blink.

Another moment passes. He has to say something. Goddamnit, anything!

“(Y/N).”

You seem to snap out of it, then. As if you realize it’s, indeed, not a dream. Felix is really standing right in front of you, blonde hair, round honey eyes, constellations on his cheeks as prominent as ever.

It’s confusion you feel more than anything else. Anger has long passed.

“How long have you been here?” is the first thing you ask him, and you’re still not allowing him inside.

He doesn’t expect you to.

“On your doorstep? An hour.”

You blink again, and lean forward, surprised. He thinks that must not be what you asked him. His ears burn. Your chest rises and falls deeply.

“In Australia, Lix,” you elaborate, but he focuses on the way your voice sounds like saying his childhood nickname, a silly little thing that stuck and makes him feel eight all over again.

You’d fallen in the rose bushes with your bike, the thorns pricking your arms, and you’d called out for him, crying. Lix, Lix, Lix… The sweetest sound, a person worthy to help you. A different time. He’d spent the rest of his afternoon picking thorns out of your skin and tending to your cuts with his mom. Afterwards, you watched Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and ate a bowl full of caramel popcorn. His dad dropped you off, and Felix had insisted on sticking his head out of his bedroom window to shout a final goodnight to you.

You’d done the same, laughing. His bestest friend in the whole world.

He didn’t feel like that person anymore. He didn’t feel like anything anymore. Just a name, just a body.

“Fourteen days,” he replies, and he’s ashamed of it, because it should’ve been easier to come to you. It should’ve never been difficult, not with you.

It was you, for fuck’s sake.

And then you ask him the one thing he has no answer to.

“Are you okay?”

You move for him to enter. It’s what he wanted, but his legs have no strength in them, he’s unable to lift them. He just stands in front of you, staring in those eyes he’s wanted to look into for so long, and it reminds him of all the times he laid in hotel beds trying to bring forward his memories of your features, writing them all down so he doesn’t forget. He wrote those songs to remember you, is what he wants to tell you, but he can’t, because it’d make him a coward, and he doesn’t think he can handle anymore truths tonight.

They call him an angel because of his face, but you’re the angelic one, you’ve always been, because there’s forgiveness in your tone. There’s warmth for him in you still, and it takes everything in him not to sweep you in his arms and cry out for you, for your heart.

He wants to tell you about Hyunjin, too, about his garden and his flowers. He wants to tell you he named one after you, the most beautiful. He kept that for himself as well.

Instead—

“I wanted to watch the stars on your ceiling.”

The possibility that you might’ve taken them down is devastating. He hopes inevitably.

His voice sounds rough, and the bags under his eyes are more pronounced than ever. You’ve never seen Felix like that, he looked so sickly. Paper thin, too. You wonder if that life over there caught up to him, if he allowed it to wash over everything you loved about him. He’s such a stripped down, quiet version of him right now, in front of you.

“I’ll make some milkshakes,” you nod towards the kitchen.

He finally lifts one leg, then the other. He enters, his heart dusting off, kickstarting.

They still taste the same. The furniture is the same, the pictures of him and you and your siblings are still on the wall. You haven’t erased him, you didn’t scorn him. It means everything to him.

It’s easier to find yourself if someone already knows who you are. If they’ve kept that image of you, and look at it from time to time. Felix never sees himself in photos, never actively seeks himself out. He just gives, and gives, and gives, hoping it’s enough, hoping that’s it, the one, we got it, thank you very much.

Perhaps it’s why he feels so drained nowadays. Perhaps that’s how Hyunjin felt.

“How are your parents?” he asks, hoping to make conversation, hoping to hear more of that voice he’s missed so fucking much.

You round the kitchen island, strawberry shake in hand, and sit right next to him, knee brushing his. Your legs are bare again, smooth. You’re wearing an olive green skirt and an oversized T-shirt. You look beautiful. You, the starry girl. You, the darling girl. You, the only version of girl he’s had in his mind since the dawn of time. Ring pop in the fifth grade, backyard wedding with a veil and all. His mother had cried, yours had baked the cake. His sister had married you.

There’s a question in your eyes now.

“They’re fine. Out celebrating their thirtieth anniversary or something crazy like that.”

It’s a wild thing, the laugh that escapes him. It stretches his face and curves his lips. It surprises both of you. He quickly looks at his chocolate milkshake, at the half eaten whipped cream at the top. He hears your soft exhale, the straw between your teeth.

“Good for them,” he says after a beat, and he means it.

“You…” Felix doesn’t dare look. He won’t. Your counter is marble, there are fresh lilies on top of it. “Are you staying a while?”

He nods. Struggles to swallow.

Then you sigh. The pretenses are down. He stiffens, wraps his fingers tighter around the glass. He braces, but he doesn’t know for what. Anything, he supposes. You could say anything, ask anything.

He just doesn’t know if he has any answers for you.

“Congrats on that Grammy,” you bump him with your elbow, your tone light. His eyes rise slightly to meet yours. You’re smiling.

He wants nothing more than to fall apart, right there. He doesn’t deserve any of it.

“It’s yours,” he mutters. “I was going to give it to you.”

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “It’s your song, Lix.”

He shakes his head once. “But it’s for you. I’d be nothing without you.”

The room goes silent. Felix thinks he’s done it, he’s said the wrong thing, pushed too much, you’re going to kick him out, once and for all, and he’s going to have to look at you from his rooftop for the rest of his stay, he’s going to have to live with himself, whatever’s left, whatever’s there, never to hear your voice, never a third chance—

“Do you usually say intense things like that?” You huff out a breath, and his own gets stuck in his throat. “I’m— No one’s ever said that to me before, Lix. Don’t just say stuff like that.”

Suddenly, six years have passed, and you’re both adults. Felix has had a whole other life, has met thousands and thousands of people, is a celebrity of great importance, a Grammy winner, a million seller, with more money than he will ever need, this unbelievable thing has happened to him, a dream, a fucking rainbow bubble, and you’ve stayed here.

You’re still the same. And you don’t think that’s worth mentioning. Worth praising. He wants to shake you awake, make you see why he’s dead inside, why he’s come back, why he’s lost his fucking mind.

“I’ve never lied to you,” he replies, his gaze meeting yours. “If I’d never met you, I would have never gone to America. I would’ve never left.”

Somehow, you’ve become a curse and a miracle.

“Let’s go see the stars, Felix.”

Your room is the exact same, too. Not a single damn thing moved, the lace on your bed, the pink all around, the fairy lights by your window, the pictures above your desk, and then finally, if he lifts his head—

The hundreds of tiny stars sprinkled on your entire ceiling. Your dad had stuck them up there for you, after you’d gone to their bed crying, afraid of the dark and the storm outside. Now, with the lights off, you didn’t seem afraid anymore, but more so melancholic. It felt unreal to stand in this room with you.

First time he’d made love to you was on that bed. First sleepover, first fort, first kiss, first song ever written.

He didn’t even realize he’d been crying, not until he felt your fingers wipe the wetness away, your hand slipping in his, pulling him towards the mattress. Before coming back, he didn’t have a bed of his own. Hotel’s have been temporary homes for him, the tour bus his sleepovers.

His chest hurt, his sadness so heavy it pulled him down. There was no fight left in him, no other reason not to fall on that bed with you, lay next to you just like all those years before.

They shone neon green, alien little stars where they didn’t belong. Like him. He blinked up at them and they greeted him every time. He held your hand tightly on his own, his vision blurry, shoulders touching yours. If it was hot, Felix couldn’t tell. His heartbeat was deafening, the magnitude of the moment swallowing him whole.

No matter what he did, what had happened, you took his hand and showed him the stars of his childhood. There’s no words to describe what that had felt like for someone like him, someone that had once been something entirely different, and had somehow reduced himself down to this, whatever it was.

Three versions of oneself is two versions too many. He hates himself for what he’s done.

“Are you okay, Lix?” you ask once more, nothing but a mere whisper, but he hears you.

He thinks he might even have an answer for you.

“I don’t think so, beautiful girl. I think I’ve made a mistake.”

“What do you mean?”

Felix sighs, puts an arm over his eyes. It’s enough, what he saw. It’s enough for a lifetime.

“Leaving you behind. Giving all of me away. Falling in love with a broken boy thinking I’ll be able to fix him. I can’t fix anyone, (Y/N). I can’t even fix my fucking self.”

You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. The connection is still there, the tension in his gut. He’d love nothing more than to get you naked and have you whisper his name back, over and over, until he gets some sort of sense of reality back. But it wouldn’t be fair to you. He doesn’t even know if you’re single.

“No one’s holding anything over your head, Lix. Forgive yourself before it’s too late,” you mumble against his skin, raising goosebumps all over. Then you continue, “I’d be lying if I said I don’t still hate you sometimes. You’re going to leave again, anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

He turns to that immediately. Places a palm over your cheek and makes you look at him.

“It does matter. I don’t want you to hate me. I fucked up and I’ll regret it my whole life. There’s no amount of sorry’s I can say to you, sweet girl, that’ll make it all better. I know that. But I don’t want you to hate me.”

Quiet. Your pulse against his thigh. “You left.”

“I did.”

“That hurt me. All of us.”

Felix nodded, again and again. One truth harsher than the other. “I know.”

“To go fuck some model in New York and sing your little heart out to people that’ll never know who you truly are and how much you matter.”

There it was. The sacrifice of it all. Has it been worth it? Yes and no. Mostly no.

His lips curved with bitterness. “Yes,” he rasped.

“But now your songs are out there. Your beautiful voice is recognized.”

“Thank you.”

You buried your face in the mattress, crying onto strawberry sheets. He turned his body towards you, fingers tangling in your hair.

“You sold your own name.”

Dying would be less painful than you speaking all of his fears and wrong decisions outloud, in the one place untouched by misery.

“And I pay for that every day.”

“You’re not happy.”

He smiles when you search for his eyes. There are crystals on your cheeks, the cosmos hanging from your lips. “Not particularly, starry girl,” he retorts sadly.

“I’m not happy, either. What’s the point, then?”

It tore at him to know this. He imagined you were when he was far away. That you’d put him behind you, and continued on with your life, shining just as brightly as you always had. Lies are always easier in the moment. Just enough to get you through to the next. But never long term.

“Come with me,” he whispers in your hair. “See for yourself.”

“And get lost, too?” you snap back.

He shut his eyes tight, bit his tongue to lessen the blow. “Three months. I want to take you with me.”

“To the City of Angels.” A lyric of his, coming from your mouth. His heart leaped, and blossomed. You listen to his music. The music he’s written for you.

“You’ll fit right in,” he finishes, leaning into you. “You’ll find many like you, none like you.”

He felt your hesitancy, the need to pull away. He would do it for you, if he wasn’t so completely under your spell, willing to do anything for one more taste of you. Years in a place where he’s had to learn to get his way, have made him somewhat persuasive, a trait he’s not proud of, like many others.

The only girl he’s ever truly wanted is you. Burn him alive, then.

“God, I’m about to make a mistake,” you mutter before his mouth takes yours.

Hyunjin had asked about you. He wanted to know who you were, why you still had such a hold on him. Hyunjin had been possessive and jealous and sensitive with Felix. He felt deeply, loved deeply, and was very stubborn. He loved getting his way. The blonde tried to love him, gave him all he had, obliged to his every request, but ultimately—

Whatever was wrong with him ran too deep. It was impossible to love someone like him, yet so easy to fall, so easy to lose yourself. They’d done some work together, traveled to Paris and visited art museums. Hyunjin was a magnificent artist, a lonely soul. Felix could recognize that in him and still admit it was scary to be around him, scary in the way a rope feels under your bare feet, no ground underneath, no sense of security.

They broke up on a bench outside Sacré-Cœur, the decision to go back to Australia for an indefinite amount of time being too much for the model. There was still love there, there’d always be. Hyunjin taught him about the life he’d entered, how to navigate through it, to get what you want, and how to love unconditionally, how to become a slave for love, to seek it and to breathe it, and to feel it deep in your gut, with everything in you.

But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t be all encompassing, choking, tying. It should feel like freedom, and this much Felix knew, because he’d felt it before.

Undressing you right now felt like that, the pearly gates welcoming him, the wings growing in his back. A map outlined but not quite yet explored, though he plans to change that. If you accept. If you agree to his proposal. His hands caress, his mouth following the fabric leaving your body, your breast, down to your stomach, your navel, your hip bone.

He pulls your skirt down, revealing cotton, and lays you gently back down, his own body over yours, hiding you from view. Your fingers unzip and push, and Felix removes his shirt for you. He knows he’s not much to look at, but there’s lean muscle and a solid chest where you touch, making heat bloom right under your fingertips. He could write odes about how soft your skin is, how tender you’re treating him, as if he never left, as if he’s never done wrong by you, and for a minute he pretends.

Then your hand wraps around his cock and he loses all restrain.

“You can’t possibly be real, my girl, are you?” he mumbles against your cunt, before he hooks his arms underneath your legs and digs right into your wetness.

You moan and writhe, and he never complies. He holds you tighter, keeps you in place and has his way with you until you’re begging him to stop, crying for him to keep going, nails digging into his scalp, his shoulders, anywhere you can reach. Felix hasn’t eaten pussy in six months, hasn’t had yours in over five years, and he’s not about to give it up for anything in the fucking world.

His tongue laps, it fucks you slowly, it makes sure to get you proper wet for him, his lips slurping on your clit afterwards, finding a pattern you seem to enjoy, sucking to bring your orgasm forward and licking to settle you down, to tease you, until finally you have enough of it, and you come all over his mouth, breathlessly, your thighs trapping his head between your legs.

“Just for me, for me, for me…” he repeats peppering kisses all over you, his arms pushing him up towards your mouth, meeting you halfway for an open mouthed kiss. “Will you come?” he asks, pumping his cock in his fist, aligning it with your entrance. “My sweet fucking girl, will you come?”

“I have,” you say, hiding your face in embarrassment. “I did.”

“Let me look at you,” as he pushes in. “Let me see you, baby.”

His hips start moving, his cock reaching deep inside you, the stretch incredible. He needs you near, closer, so he lifts you up and repositions himself, having you sit on him, fucking yourself on him how you like. You find a rhythm as he wraps himself around you, kissing your breast, sucking on your nipples, tugging at the ends of your hair. Anything he can touch, all for you. Your voice breaks, his name cut in half, and he thinks he likes it best like that, not one thing but two, muttered by you, the death of him once and for all.

“Will you come with me to California?” he asks again, clearer this time. “Will you let me have you like this under their sun?”

“Lix…” you collapse as he takes charge, pistoling up into your soaking cunt, his cock so deep inside, so fucking good. “Fuck, please. Just please.”

“You need to tell me,” he groans. “I need to know. You need to tell me.”

He pushes you forward again, not once unsticking you from himself, and fucks you into the mattress, hard and fast. He’s after your high, he needs to see you, needs to witness you fall apart because of him, the same way he does for you, his muse, his girl, under your stars. You kiss him and hold him near, sharing his breath, his chest rapidly falling and rising, cock ready to burst, heart ready to explode, and you’re near too, he can feel it in his gut, he can see how your back arches, how your breath hitches, how your eyes open wide, head thrown back—

“That’s it, there it is, do it. Do it, beautiful, come for me, come on, let me feel you, God, fuck—I’ll bust, too, I’ll—”

“Inside,” you moan, shaking in his arms. “Inside me.”

Felix growls and does as you say, fingers digging into your waist, cock buried, and his head falls on your stomach. He’s pretty sure he’s having a heart attack, but nothing matters. You’re underneath him, naked. You still love him. You haven’t said it but you don’t have to; he can feel it, he can feel it like his own pulse.

He fucks you through the ripples of your orgasm, and then he pulls out, kissing your temple, your breast on his chest. Whatever dreams are made out of, he’s convinced you’re it. His dream, a girl just for him, a girl he could pick out blindfolded from a crowd of thousands. He would always come back to you, because there’s simply no beginning to him if you’re not part of it.

And no end if you don’t come with him.

“Don’t be afraid to tell me no,” he whispers into the dark, the stars staring back. “I’ll understand. I’ll make it work, there’s no question about it. Not anymore.”

You’re quiet for a long time, but your lips kiss his jaw, his neck, his ear. He holds onto sanity because of that. Because he’s lying through his teeth, for the first time. He won’t understand. If you don’t come, he’s not sure he’ll be able to carry on with this persona he’s built. It will destroy him, take him down under.

That he’s sure of.

But he thinks of your precious heart. What it would be like to leave it all behind.

“I’ll come,” you say incredibly small, almost inaudible. “I’ll come if you want me there.”

Felix closes his eyes, relief washing over him. No more suffering, endless tossing and turning. He could finally have a life, maybe buy some property, make a house out of you. With you. With you. It sounded unachievable. A wish unable to be granted. Merely anything.

You’re breathing it all back to him.

“I need you there, starry girl. I love you.”

He feels you nod, but you don’t say it back. It cuts through him, but he understands. He doesn’t need to hear it, despite how desperate he is for it. It pours out of you, it started when you opened the door, and it continues to pour out now, with his cum gushing out of your cunt, your arm hugging him tightly, afraid to let go.

“Three months,” you say. “Please don’t make me regret it, Lix.”

tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @streetlight-s, @j-0ne25.

#straykidsland #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #felix smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz felix #stray kids felix #felix skz #stray kids #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #felix x reader #skz fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunlix #mine.

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delusionalwriter02 · 2 months

Note

Hi I just found your insta series and I’m in love. Could I request either Poe or Sigma for it? If not that’s totally fine. Thanks!

Insta as Sigma's GF

a/n : hello dear! i'm so sorry for the waiting but it's finally here! thank you so much for your request and your kind words <3

<3 liked by Yosanurgirl, Sig_ma and 1285 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : @.Yosanugirl you're the best photographer

Yosanugirl : imma need a remuneration some day

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : c'mon i'm your best friend ???

↳ Yosanugirl : it's EXACTLY because YOU'RE my bf imma need your money

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you just broke my heart

↳ Sig_ma : Oh so that's the sound of broken glass I just heard came from ?

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : No my hand slipped

↳ Sig_ma : I'm so tired of you

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : we may need to go buy more plates MAYBE

↳ Sig_ma : How can you be SO clumsy

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : In all honesty, I don't know

<3 liked by Daze_i, Sig_ma and 285 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : princess treatment

Daze_i : Sigmmmmmaa give me the princess treatment too

↳ Sig_ma : In your stupid dreams

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : Honey don't be mean

↳ Daze_i : We spent incredible times together and you talk to me like that ???? I'm disappointed

↳ Sig_ma : Being in prison with you is NOT what I call "incredible time"

↳ Daze_i : well it was fun

↳ Fyofyo : It was certainly a moment

↳ Daze_i : SEE ??? Even Fyodor says it

↳ Sig_ma : I enjoy my freedom thank you

↳ Daze_i : then enjoy it with meeeee

↳ Chu_uya : fucker you said you where here 10min ago

↳ Daze_i : oh yeah I forgot you

↳ Chu_uya : WHAT

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : we'll leave you to your marital woes

↳ Chu_uya : we're SO NOT married

↳ Daze_i : will you give me the princess treatment too ?

↳ Chu_uya : i'll give you the beating treatment

↳ Daze_i : YNNNNNNN i don't want to see Chuuya now

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : your problem

<3 liked by Higucci, Gintonic and 825 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : funniest night @.Gintonic @.Higucci @.Yosanugirl

Higucci : I thought we were going to DIE

↳ Gintonic : that was the fun part

↳ Yosanurgirl : I would have saved you yk ?

↳ Higucci : you're always scary when you heal people

↳ Yosanugirl : at least they're not dying

↳ Gintonic : you got a point

Sig_ma : I can't trust you when you're with them

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : what did i do ?

↳ Sig_ma : lying on the ROAD ??

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : I can promise you there was NO cars

↳ Sig_ma : I HOPE SO

<3 liked by Gintonic, Sig_ma and 758 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : pinky promise

Gintonic : what did you promise ????? 👀

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : to always treat me like a princess

↳ Sig_ma : Your humour needs to improve

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : my humour is elite💪

↳ Gintonic : SO WHAT DID YOU PROMISE

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : to always love each others

↳ Yosanurgirl : IT'S SO CUTE

↳ Gintonic : is the marriage soon

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : there's no marriage ?

↳ Daze_i : I thought that he fjngqeioztj

↳ Yosanugirl : tf ?

↳ Sig_ma : He's knocked out

↳ Yn_theonenandonly : what did you do ???

↳ Sig_ma : He can't keep a secret

↳ Chu_uya : FINALLY HE SHUT UP

<3 liked by Yosanugirl, Sig_ma and 964 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : feel like a Mafia wife

Yosanugirl : you're dating a casino owner OF COURSE you're a mafia girl

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : one day i'll get the wife title

↳ Yosanugirl : tell him to not take too much time or i'll be the one marry you

↳ Yn_theoneandonly : heard her ? @.Sig_ma

↳ Sig_ma : She's mine

↳ Yosanugirl : you're jealouuuuussssssss

Hellooo! Hope you liked it ? Thank you so much for your request!!

with love <3

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #fanfic #fanfiction #request #x reader #bsd sigma #bungou stray dogs dazai #sigma bungou stray dogs #sigma bsd #sigma #female reader #sigma x reader #sigma x you #sigma x y/n #fake social media #bsd yosano #bungou stray dogs yosano

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neonghostlights · 1 year

Text

A/N: I promise the story will start to pick up soon. Let me know what you think about this.

Summary: You haven’t been the same since you woke up in the hospital with memory loss after the earthquake hit Hawkins. When strange things start happening and you feel like you’ve started losing your mind, a group of strangers offer to help. Even though you’ve never met them before, they seem to know you better than you think.

Warnings: Blood, Hallucinations, Brief mention of religion, this series is 18+ only.

Word count: 2k

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Series Masterlist

Part Two

You were off on Saturdays. Saturdays were good. Saturdays were safe.

You never had any plans. So, the weekends were the days that you took care of the house and yourself. You would catch up on any housework you had neglected during the week, watch movies, eat junk food, and also work on any simple house renovations.

The ability to keep yourself distracted with boring tasks didn’t help exactly. At least you didn’t have to go to work and put on a mask and try not to have any more breakdowns in the bathroom.

You tapped your pen in a rhythmic beat against the notepad that had your scribbled to do list on it. Find a new job, you wrote on the very bottom of the list.

The options in Hawkins were limited. Even before the quake. The thought of having to spend anymore time in that daycare made you cringe. It wasn’t that you hated kids, you loved kids. Before your injury you were taking classes to become a teacher. You learned quickly that your brain no longer focused on things like it used to so school seemed like an impossible task now.

Maybe one day.

Today was a good day. The nightmares were fuzzy enough to leave too much of a lasting impression. Honestly, the only way you realized you were having a nightmare at all was the awful feeling of dread.

You’d take the feeling of dread over having to see someone die over and over again.

The feeling followed you through the day. Causing your heart to speed up and your stomach to drop at random times.

Even now as you wandered through the aisles of the grocery store. You had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t dreaming anymore. This was real life and you were safe.

The wheels of your shopping cart squeaked with each turn as you slowly grabbed each item off of your list. One last stop at the frozen foods section and you were free to go home. Maybe rent a movie and pig out on some snacks. Be normal like you used to be before you had a broken mind. Before you were too scared to fall asleep.

You rounded the corner to the aisle. A chill broke out across your skin from the lines of freezers causing you to shiver. You rubbed your arms, trying to regain some warmth as you pondered on what frozen meal you should have next.

The hum of the freezers seemed to grow louder the longer you stood there. Your reflection in the glass looked grim and distorted as it stared back at you.

Without thinking, you stepped closer to the glass. Your nose was practically pressed against the cold surface as you stared at your features. Something was off about your looks but you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it. You just looked different, wrong. Maybe it was the lighting or the fact that you couldn’t sleep but something about you seemed darker or misplaced.

A cold hand on your arm drew your attention away from the reflection, causing you to jump. The older lady stared at you wide eyed. Your surprise must have startled her too.

“Hi, honey. Didn’t mean to scare you. I was calling your name back there but you seemed a little distracted,” she said as she looked at the freezer and then back to you with a concerned look. You gave your best attempt at a smile, which looked more like a painful grimace.

“Hey, Miss Joan,” you said breathily. Still shaken up by her sudden appearance. Miss Joan lived on the same street you had grown up on. She was the self-proclaimed neighborhood watch and she took her job very seriously.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, dear. You really should come visit your mom more.” She hid her scold behind her best smile. If you hadn’t grown up around her or been on the receiving end of her famous scold smiles then you probably wouldn’t have noticed it.

“Just been busy these days,” you retorted. You tried to sound as pleasant as possible to not allow her to see her comment had gotten to you but your words came out snappier than intended. You really just wanted to get out of there.

“Oh, I know you’ve had a lot going on,” she frowned and patted your arm again. If she noticed your flinch she must have ignored it. “I’ve been praying for you in church every Sunday. You should really join us sometimes. I think it would be really good for your soul after everything that happened.”

You could feel the confusion on your face. What could have happened to affect your soul? Last time you checked head injuries didn’t damn you to Hell. She had said it like there was some kind of secret message laced in her words. “What are you talking about?” You demanded harshly.

Miss Joan frowned at your tone and demeanor. She opened her mouth to speak again. Most likely to chastise you for the way you had spoken to her.

“Mom, there you are.” You recognized her daughter Betty as she came up and wrapped her arm around her mother. “Hi,” she smiled politely at you before she spoke to her mother again in a reprimanding tone, “We really need to go or we’ll be late. Come on.”

Before she was able to successfully pull her mother away, Miss Joan reached into her purse and shoved a pamphlet in your hand. “Just something for you to keep in mind, dear.” Betty looked at you apologetically before walking away with her mother in tow. You could hear their harsh whispers echoing from the next aisle over.

Shoving the pamphlets in your bag to be forgotten about, you decided to check out and leave the store to avoid any more excitement.

When you finally loaded your groceries into the trunk and collapsed into the front seat you realize that you never did grab what you needed from the frozen food section.

You decided to stop by the local video rental place on the way home. You needed a distraction after what had happened at the grocery store. You knew that if you sat and thought about what Miss Joan had said it would just make you angrier.

Plus, you had already bought the microwaveable popcorn.

The ‘Help Wanted’ sign taped to the window fluttered as you walked in. A bell dinged notifying the people at the counter of your presence. Four heads turned into your direction when you entered the doorway.

Two people stood behind the counter. The girl you couldn’t place but you recognized the guy as Steve Harrington from school. At least you were pretty sure it was Steve Harrington. He definitely wasn’t someone you had thought of for a while. He would be the last person you would expect to work at a video rental store.

The other two people stood beside the counter. A younger teen with curly hair and a floral shirt stared at you wide eyed, like you had interrupted some sort of secret meeting. But it wasn’t him you paid most of your attention to. Eddie Munson stood beside him, also staring at you in shock. You couldn’t tell if the shock was good or bad.

The looks they gave you were weird, but not as weird as the fact that Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson seemed to be having a friendly conversation before you had interrupted with your presence. They definitely did not seem like the type to be friends. And from what you remember from school, Steve Harrington was the king of the jerks.

You awkwardly turned down a random row of shelves. Immediately regretting your decision to come here in the first place. You could feel their eyes burning into the back of your skull. Maybe they thought you were stealing or something. If you just left now without getting anything then it would just make them think that even more.

You browsed the selection in the row you were in until the light above you started to flicker, triggering a headache. Reaching up you rubbed your temple softly as you turned to a new row of shelves. Not caring what section you were in, you just needed to get away from the light.

You were only there for a moment before the lights in the new aisle started to flicker too. This had to be a sick joke played by the universe. Your head pounded as you grabbed a random movie from the shelf to quickly read the title. Prepared to just grab whatever at this point and run to the check out so you could get the hell out of there.

When you looked down to see what movie you grabbed, you found your hands covered in a thick layer of blood.

Gasping, you dropped the movie to the ground with a thud.

You immediately wiped your hands on your shirt in a desperate attempt to get the blood off of you. The strong rusty salt smell attacked your nose making you gag. It seeped into your top staining your clothes and skin as you kept frantically wiping. The amount of blood grew the more you tried to clean it off.

Breathe, you tried to remind yourself but the air wasn’t moving into your lungs as you wanted. Only making you panic even more.

The feeling of a tap on your shoulder made you scream and curl into yourself protectively.

“Woah, hey. Are you okay?”

You knew that voice. You had just heard it yesterday at the gas station.

You opened your eyes to find Eddie Munson standing beside you with his hands raised in an attempt to calm you.

You must have looked crazy standing in the middle of a video rental store covered in blood. But when you looked down at yourself there was no blood at all. The light wasn’t even flickering anymore.

The only item out of place was the movie you had dropped lying between your feet.

“I’m fine,” you croaked out, leaning down to pick up the movie before Eddie decided to do it himself.

“Are you sure? You seem a little shook up.” His voice was full of concern or pity. You couldn’t tell for sure. What a weird world. Eddie Munson was taking pity on you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Steve peeking around the shelving to see what was happening.

You forced a smile. “Yeah, I thought I saw a spider or something.”

You really hoped that running into Eddie wasn’t going to become a common occurrence.

He didn’t look too convinced as you turned around to go to the checkout counter with the movie. The younger kid still stood by the counter watching you with wary eyes as you approached. The girl behind the counter gave you a warm but nervous smile, like she wasn’t sure what to do.

As she was bagging the movie you interrupted, “I saw the sign in the window. Can I please get an application too?”

She looked at you in shock for a second before she schooled her features. “Sure!” She chirped before grabbing one and putting it in the bag with your rental. “I thought you were working at that daycare though?” She asked.

“Just need something different. Thank you,” you said politely as you made your way quickly to the exit.

As you made your way out you could see Steve and Eddie in the middle of a heated discussion where you had left them. You could have sworn you heard your name as you walked out the door.

You woke up in an uncomfortable position on the couch later that night. The movie had done nothing to hold your attention causing you to doze off only fifteen minutes in.

The TV was completely static as you got up to switch it off. You would worry about rewinding the tape later.

As you trudged to your bed a random thought popped in your head that had your heart sinking.

How did that stranger at Family Video know where you worked?

Taglist: (* means I couldn't tag you)

@sadbitchfangirl @gaysludge @daisydamed

@mandyjo8719 @josephquinncore @stevieharringtonswife @hazydespair @sheneedsrocknroll92 @mopeymopeymouse

@portaltothevoid @sidthedollface2 @mjharrington @pbs-theundeadmaggot @luceneraium @aliceheart247 @kaitebugg03 @emxxblog

I will only add you to the taglist if your bio confirms you are 18+

#eddie munson x reader #mechanic eddie munson #mechanic!eddie #mechanic!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #vecna #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem reader #st fanfic

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zablife · 1 year

Text

Tachipen (Part 4)

Tommy x female reader

Summary: With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a 20 year old gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he employs her as a nanny. When tragedy strikes, he’s forced to confront the truth he has always known.

Author’s Note: This was requested by @honey-im-hotdog who asked for a fic about Charlie’s nanny. I decided to turn it into a series. The story will be told through flashbacks, but I will note the year. Tommy meets y/n in 1919 and the story goes thru present time which is the year of the vendetta, 1925.

Warnings: language, ethnic slur, violence, childbirth

1924, Tommy’s wedding day

A broken side window and a smell of petrol. Nothing left, but smoke and ash. You tried to put the disturbing thoughts out of your mind, but it was all you could think of as you sat at the long banquet table adorned with tapered candles and silver trays of food. Across the table, John laughed at his own joke, an expensive cigar in one hand and a glass of Irish whisky in the other. Isaiah clapped him on the back as he joined in and you wondered if they held a shred of remorse for what they had done.

“Y/n, is everything alright?” Ada asked, noticing the far off look in your eye.

“I need some fresh air,” you lied. Pushing your chair away from the table, you threw your napkin on the table and turned from the rowdy men as they called after you, feeling nothing but disgust. Finding the front of the house occupied by Grace’s family, you attempted to escape the sea of red uniforms with the rest of the staff below stairs. As you paced the darkened hallway outside the kitchens, you heard someone clear their throat and you looked up to find Arthur standing before you, hands in his pockets as he watched you carefully.

Unable to hold it in any longer you demanded to know, “I’m not allowed a man on my arm?”

Adopting the tone of a weary older brother reluctant to enforce his authority he began softly, “It’s about your choice of man. You know the rules.” You turned from him and he lay a hand on your shoulder attempting to console you, “Come upstairs and enjoy the party, love.”

You faced him, wiping a tear away with your sleeve. “Pretend we’re all a happy family, is that what you’d like?” you asked, failing to contain your spite.

“Aren’t you happy for Tommy?” Arthur asked, confused by your words. As he pulled away from you to study you with concern, Michael passed through with a girl on his arm. Motioning for her to go on without him, he stopped to speak to you.

“Everything alright?” he asked, the hazy, cocaine induced grin fading from his face.

“You know it isn’t! You know why he didn’t come, don’t you?” you asked bitterly, placing your hands on your hips to stare him down.

“Who? You mean the wop?” he said scrunching his nose as though the very idea was repugnant. You could tell by his reaction he held no concern for Angel Changretta’s plight and that made you angrier than before.

“His name is Angel Changretta and his restaurant was burned to the ground to stop him coming tonight!” you corrected as you charged Michael, unable to believe his callousness.

Arthur stepped between you and Michael, placing a hand on your shoulder as he said in a calm voice, “Now, y/n, we tried to tell you. Angel Changretta weren’t good for ya. He’s a dangerous man. He’s had five different names in the last six years, and he’s got connections with the Naples boys.”

“How could you be that bloody stupid? The order was simple! No fraternizing with foreigners!” Michael spat at you from over Arthur’s shoulder.

You shook free from Arthur’s grasp, a wild look in your eye at the thought of being told what to do by the youngest member of the family. “You have no right to choose who I see in my own time!” you shouted at him. Micheal only returned an icy stare as you shook your head at him in disbelief.

Then you added more quietly, “Maybe I was stupid…to have told John that Angel showed me kindness.” Looking down at your shoes you said to more to yourself than to the men surrounding you, “Angel didn’t deserve this for being with me. I wasn’t even serious about him. Just passin’ the time cause I can’t be with the man I want.”

“Be glad it was only a warning then. Sometimes killing is a kindness and the Peaky Blinders do that very well,” Michael threatened, holding your gaze a moment before stalking off to find his girl.

You gulped as you watched him go, feeling chilled to your core. Your anger soon returned as you picked up a nearby vase and threw it as far as you could, letting out a scream of frustration. You slid down the wall, watching water drip down the subway tiles across from you. Arthur surveyed the damage, before shuffling toward you.

“It goes for all of us. We all have our orders,” he said as he extended a hand to you.

You ignored it as you picked up a crushed flower at your side, “But you have someone so you couldn’t possibly understand,” you answered sadly. Pulling your knees into your chest and pressing your cheek to your forearms you muttered, “Go back to Linda, Arthur, and leave me alone.”

Arthur slipped away quietly. As he passed Tommy on the stairs, Tommy asked, “Where’s y/n?”

“Downstairs, but she wants to be alone,” Arthur said as he stood in his way.

Tommy cocked his head and squinted at Arthur. “Have you said something about the order given last night? She wasn’t to know, Arthur.”

“She already knows, Tommy. I tried to explain it to her, but fucking Michael was high on snow. Made it worse,” he said running his hand through his hair.

Tommy punched the wall beside him in a fit of rage. He had only tried to keep you safe. He hadn’t intended to hurt you.

From somewhere deep within the house calls for the groom could be heard and Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “We need to go back up, brother. Let’s go see your lovely bride,” Arthur suggested, but he could tell that wasn’t what consumed Tommy’s thoughts.

Tommy hesitated on the stairs as he took one final glance around. Massaging his sore knuckles, he murmured to himself, “I will make this right.”

—————————————————-

1919

It was far too late for you to be awake, but you couldn’t sleep. Some nights you still dreamt of home. It was difficult not to think of your sisters at times, wondering what they were doing, and if they ached for you the way you ached for them. As you sat at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea, Tommy descended the stairs. He looked exhausted, braces hanging from his shoulders and hair tousled as though he had tried to sleep and failed.

“What are you doing awake, ey? Thought the kids would have worn you out,” he said, voice raspy from the late hour and too many cigarettes. He lit another as you thought of an answer.

“Why are you awake?” you countered, looking him in the eye. You wanted to show him you weren’t afraid of him, hoping to put the unpleasantness behind you and start anew.

Tommy sat back in the chair across from you, blowing smoke into the air. “I asked you first,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“Alright, I was thinking of my family. What they’d say now,” you confessed, swallowing harshly.

Tommy nodded thoughtfully, then leaned forward, digging into his pocket. He placed a bullet in front of you, standing it on end and left it there for you to consider. “That’s what they’ve said. Go on, have a look,” he said, taking another lazy drag.

You watched his eyes as your fingers reached for the cool metal, rolling it over in your hand before reading his name etched on the side. You knew what it meant. His death had been ordered. You knew it wasn’t your father, he wouldn’t have bothered. Your sister would be married by now though to one of the men Tommy and his brothers had cut the day you had left so this could only have come from one family.

Nodding thoughtfully you replied, “This came from the Lees?”

“That’s right, love,” he said seemingly unbothered by the fact that men were trying to kill him.

“What are you going to do?” you asked, eyes darting to his for some sign he understood the severity of the threat.

“Nothing,” he replied simply.

“But…the bullet has been written, Tommy. They will kill you,” you stressed to him.

Tommy shook his head and a small smile crept onto his face as he leaned forward, “No, I don’t think they will. And do you know why?”

You shook your head, fearing what he might say next.

“Because you know everything that went on in that camp. So I need some information from you to implement a plan for my business. Do you understand?” he asked snatching the bullet up and holding it in front of you.

You nodded fiercely. “Yes, what do you need?”

“You can start by telling me what you know of the racetracks,” he said with a grin.

————————————————————————-

“Are we going to see Daddy?” the children asked excitedly.

“Yes, we are. We’re going to surprise him today,” you said with a big grin, swinging hands with Clara along the way. The sun was setting over Small Heath at the end of a long day and the golden light made everything look softer somehow.

“I want to see Uncle Tommy!” William shouted.

“He’s not there now. He and Aunt Polly have gone away on business,” you explained as everyone began talking at once.

As you came upon the front door, you noticed a Lee boy sneaking inside. Your stomach turned, knowing something wasn’t right. “Katie, why don’t you wait outside for me while I fetch your dad?” you suggested. She shrugged, taking Henry from your arms and you carefully ventured inside.

The moment you crossed the threshold, hands clamped over your shoulders and the front door slammed shut. Before you could scream, the man holding you clapped a filthy hand over your mouth and pulled you into his sweaty body. You inhaled a sharp breath as a knife came to your throat. “So you’re still here, y/n,” a familiar voice hissed in your ear. The knife pressed against your skin as he tightened his grip on your waist. “Like being Tommy Shelby’s whore do you?” You attempted to shake your head, but thought better of it, replying through clenched teeth, “What do you want Erasmus?”

“Just taking back what’s ours, sweetheart. Every last dime you helped Tommy Shelby steal at Cheltenham” he spat. “And more because I know he’s got it,” he sneered. Angered by his words you fought with all your might, feeling the sleeves of your dress tear and nails drag across your skin as you pulled away. You jabbed and clawed your way free until you could sink one hand to your boot to retrieve the knife Esmerelda had given you to defend yourself. Unsheathing it quickly, you raised up cutting Erasums from his chin to his forehead. He reared back with a roar of pain, holding his face as blood gushed forth in bright red spurts.

As you tried to run through Polly’s house you were met with the sight of Ada, asking what was wrong. You gasped for breath as you replied, “We’ve been done over. Run, Ada!” But the warning came too late, as one of the Lee boys barged into the parlor with a gun pointed at you.

“You’re not going anywhere. Sit the fuck down,” he said and you did as he said, watching as the men who accompanied him, mostly kin, overturned the shop. They broke everything in sight and stole what money and valuables they could find, four cash boxes in total. When they were satisfied they had what they wanted, Erasmus came in to see you, jerking you up from your chair by your elbow.

“You give Tommy a message from me,” he said, holding you harshly by the jaw.

“What’s that?” you asked defiantly.

“Tell him we want our cut or there'll be more of this,” he said, striking a blow to your cheek that knocked you to the ground. Ada screamed, rushing to you as you fell. The men ran out as quickly as they had arrived and you were left alone in the disheveled house. Only then did you hear the children calling to you, grateful that they hadn't witnessed any of it.

You called them in, hugging them tightly to you. You rocked Henry until he stopped crying and checking everyone over to be sure they weren’t harmed. William shouted out in protest. “Y/n, you’re hurting me, let me go!” Soon your attention was stolen by Ada’s whimpers then a shout.

“Holy shit. Water!” Ada said, looking down at the puddle at her feet.

“What does that mean?” Katie asked.

“Means the baby’s comin’,” you explained. “Take your brother to the neighbors’,” you said trying to keep the fear out of your voice as you pushed Henry into her arms. Of all days for Polly to be away, you thought.

“Alright, let’s get you comfortable,” you said to Ada, praying you’d be able to do just that, but knowing you were in for a long evening. As the night wore on, John eventually came looking for you and the children and was met with Ada’s screams.

He’d obviously been drinking because he didn’t seem to notice the state of the betting shop or understand what was happening with his sister asking, “What’s going on in here? Someone strangling a cat?”

“I’m going to strangle you if you don’t get the fuck out, John Shelby!” Ada yelled at him before lurching forward to push once more.

“Keep going. That’s right. Push,” you encouraged her, trying to ignore John. Ada screamed out in obvious pain once more and you looked up to see the note of recognition wash over John. You shook your head at him as you felt her stomach, prodding at the top of her bump and then the bottom. He eyed you suspiciously, your look of concern sobering him instantly.

“The baby’s the wrong way round,” you proclaimed, feeling sick to your stomach.

“How do you know?” John asked.

“I’ve attended three other girls before in camp. One was like this,” you said, biting your lip and trying to think.

“What do we do?” John asked removing his coat and hat, rolling up his sleeves to show he was ready to help. Ada threw her sweat soaked head back against the pillows, too tired to care who was in the room now.

“There’s something else to try. Lean her forward,” you instructed and John helped you move Ada onto all fours.

“It’s not long to go now,” you cooed in her ear, rubbing along her back, then helped her count “one, two, three. Push.” Ada groaned out a miserable sounding whine as she forced herself to push harder through the pain before trying to collapse onto her elbows.

“Ada, if you stay strong, I’ll fetch Freddie soon and he can see his son,” John said, and that gave Ada the motivation she needed. In two more pushes, her son Karl was born, wailing to the heavens.

“It’s a beautiful, baby boy,” you said as you cleaned and swaddled the child to hand to his mother. You helped Ada move into the rocking chair by the crackling fire just as Freddie burst through the door, tears glistening in his eyes at the sight of his wife and newborn son.

As you washed your hands clean of blood in the porcelain basin, your heart swelled at the sight of Ada leaning her head onto Freddie’s shoulder as he cradled their child and whispered to him softly. Sneaking out the back as quietly as possible so as not to disturb them, you collided with John who was waiting for you in the alley.

“You did well, tonight, love,” John said, moving toward you with a warm smile.

“I couldn’t have done it all by myself,” you said, shyly. Then jerking your chin across the street you asked, “Do the children know you they have a cousin?”

John nodded and added, “Yeah, but then they went back to sleep. They’re gonna stay with Mrs. Andrews tonight. Tommy just got back so I sent a blinder to tell him the news….how should we celebrate, ey?” he asked, placing a rough hand to your cheek. Your breath hitched as he leaned down to ghost his lips over yours, pressing against you gently until you were moving in perfect sync with him. The pad of his thumb caressed you softly as his tongue pushed your lips apart, seeking more of your warmth and you let out a quiet moan against him, feeling him smirk against you.

Suddenly you heard someone in the darkness clear their throat and then you saw Polly’s figure come into view in the doorway, her curls outlined by the lamplight. “John, I would’ve thought you’d be at the Garrison by now wetting the baby’s head.”

John pulled away from you slowly, hand dropping to your shoulder as though unwilling to let you go as he replied, “Aunt Pol, when did you get back?”

Polly motioned to you as she offered, “Y/n, I’m sure you’d like a nice, hot bath after the day you’ve had.”

You realized what a state you must be in, moving to smooth your hair before ducking under John’s arm. “Thank you, Polly.”

She nodded, glancing back at John who still stood frozen in place, one hand against the brick wall.

After you’d gone, Polly lit a cigarette, walking toward her nephew in slow, measured steps as she considered him. Standing at his back, she turned her head and blew smoke into the night air. “John, she’s only just found her footing here. She’s young and the last thing she needs is heartbreak,” She placed a hand on John’s shoulder, thinking of the many affairs he’d had since he returned home from the war. “Find someone else to put your fires out,” she warned.

John only nodded in reply and headed back toward the Garrison to join his brothers in celebrating their new nephew. As he opened the door of the snug, Tommy and Arthur greeted him. He stepped inside, removing his cap and glancing to the corner as he took in another familiar face, kind and beautiful. “Hello, John,” she said brightly.

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

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#Peaky blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x reader #John Shelby x reader #John Shelby x you #John Shelby x y/n

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slytherheign · 8 months

Text

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR | max verstappen

PART 1/4 OF BROKEN GLASS AND HONEY SERIES.

CAN ALSO BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT.

PAIRINGS: max verstappen x fem!reader, slight daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

SUMMARY: you find yourself fighting with max again. but this time, it hurts both of you more.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, unhealthy/abusive relationship (pls if you find yourself in a relationship like this, LEAVE), toxic behavior, hidden relationship, and allusions to sex. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 16+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift's song with the same title. also, pls remember that this is a work of fiction and i am in no way saying that max in real life behaves like this. dedicated to @writingstoraes, who helped me with making the social media stuff included in this. i hope you're having a great day, ily!

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

This happened way too often.

The screaming and throwing things at each other in his Monaco penthouse.

The living room was in disarray with shattered pieces of a vase strewn across the floor. Max had thrown it just minutes ago.

Today was the Monaco Grand Prix and Max had a bad race. You watched it from the stands like a typical fan and then left immediately after the race so you could get to his penthouse before him. You wanted to support him from the garage, but despite dating him for almost 2 years, your relationship was still hidden from the public. Even the Red Bull team didn’t know.

He almost lost because of the pitstop strategy and now he was taking his anger out on you. You were used to it at this point.

“It’s not fucking perfect! I didn’t get the fastest lap. I didn’t get driver of the day. Did you even see the interval between Fernando and me? He almost fucking won!” he screamed.

“But you still got P1,” you tried to calm him down although you knew it would do nothing. “You still won.”

He glared at you. Looking at your face with disgust.

“Of course, you wouldn’t understand,” he scoffed. “Because you don’t know a fucking thing about F1.”

That wasn’t true. You were a fan of the sport before you dated him. That was how you met each other, you attended a grand prix years ago. Max also knew that wasn’t true. That was one of the reasons why he loved you, you knew and understood him and his job. But he still said it. He said because he knew it would hurt you.

Silence hung heavy in the air as you stood on opposite sides of the room. You chose not to speak anymore, deciding it would be best if you just let his anger dissipate.

He absolutely hated the silence.

“WHY ARE YOU NOT TALKING?!” he yelled.

“WELL, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!” you yelled back.

“I don’t know—something! You have a brain, fucking use it.”

“I don’t understand you. When I speak, you get mad. When I don’t speak, you get mad. What am I supposed to fucking do?!” you screamed, tears of frustration pouring down on your cheeks.

Now, he was the one speechless. He moved to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself down.

You followed after him minutes after, blood boiling out of anger because he was trying to escape another argument he caused in the first place.

“Now, you’re the one not talking,” you scoffed, crossing your arms and leaning on the wall. “For fuck’s sake, Max. You’re not the only one having a bad day. At least today, you still fucking won.”

“And you weren’t there to congratulate me,” he muttered under his breath but you heard it clearly. He knew he had hurt you and he was trying to deflect the situation by starting another argument—one that was very sensitive and he wouldn’t win.

“What the fuck are you saying?” you taunted.

“You heard me.”

“What is wrong with you? I was there. I was in the stands supporting you.”

Max knew he was in the wrong. He knew it wasn’t your fault but his. He realized he should apologize before things got too much out of control, but how was it, that instead of an apology, what left his mouth was another poor insensitive remark?

“Yeah. In the stands. You’re always in the stands. Never close to me.”

“Holy shit,” you laughed. “Is it my fault that even after almost 2 years of dating, you still don’t want to announce our relationship to the public? Are you really blaming me for something I never had control of?”

“Did I blame you? I never said it was your fault,” he wanted to stop, but his pride wouldn’t let him.

“Yes, you did! You know damn well if we weren’t hidden from the public eye, I would support you from the garage and hug you in front of everyone. But here you fucking are. Insinuating that I wanted to be in the stands instead of close to you,” you cried.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he stood up, wiped your tears, and kissed you roughly. He pushed you into the wall next to the door, locking it—even though no one else was in the house—with his one hand while his other grasped your hair to keep your face close to his.

You knew what he was doing. He was trying to get you to have sex with him instead of apologizing. He did this way too often and you always let him. But not this time.

“Stop,” you whispered, trying to pull away from him but his hold on you was strong. He moved to your neck, leaving marks everywhere but you pushed him back before the kissing led to something more.

“Max,” you stated sternly.

“What?” he shot back with a warning tone. His eyes were burning with lust and anger. A part of you wanted to give in like how you did almost after every argument with him in the past.

“We can’t continue doing this anymore, Max.”

“Just shut the fuck up. You know you want it.”

Part of you did want it.

“Not tonight,” you told him. “I think we should talk this out tonight.”

He pulled back. “Are you fucking serious?”

You glared at him.

“What if I don’t want to talk this out? Can’t we do something else? I’m sorry, okay? Is that enough?”

“You can’t even apologize properly, huh?”

“Can you stop? What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe start by announcing our relationship to the public,” you stated. You weren’t going to let him escape this tonight.

“Here we fucking go again,” he rolled his eyes.

The atmosphere was still charged with tension that never left. Stood in the center of chaos, was you and Max, faces flushed with anger.

“What? You don’t want to talk about this again? Well, I think we should. We absolutely should. I can't believe you still won't acknowledge our relationship, Max! We've been together for almost 2 years, and it's time we let the world know!”

Max clenched his fists, his voice filled with frustration as well, though quieter than yours was. “Y/N, you know I care about you. It's just... I've always been a private person. I don't like putting my personal life out there for everyone to see,” he said defensively.

“It's not about putting our personal life on display, Max. It's about acknowledging what we have, showing that we're proud to be together. But it feels like you're ashamed of me, like you don't even want people to know we're in love,” you wanted to scream but you didn’t, because he was finally communicating with you.

“It's not that at all! I'm not ashamed of you, I promise. I'm just scared of what might happen if we make this public. I don't want our relationship to become some spectacle.”

Your anger slowly turned into empathy as you saw the pain behind his eyes. You softened your stance and cautiously stepped closer to him. “We can't let fear dictate our lives. We deserve to be in a relationship where we can freely express what we feel for each other.”

“We can go through this like we always do. Whatever it is, We can fix it,” his voice cracked, as he struggled to express his vulnerability.

For a moment, you thought you finally got through him. That was until he talked again.

“Just wait for now.”

“Wait? We’ve already waited for almost 2 years. I’ve waited for you for almost 2 years. How many more years do you need? Another 2 years? 3 years? 6? How many more?” you sighed. “No, Max. We've been through this countless times. All we do is fucking wait.”

Max wasn’t angry anymore. He realized his mistake and knew what he should do. But the thing was, he still wasn’t ready. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered. It was all he could say.

He knew hiding you was unfair. If only you could just give him a little more time.

“Then fucking show it. I’m tired of this, Max. I feel like a fucking toy. Your family doesn’t even know I exist. I’m just someone you call when you want to fuck. I’m always hidden behind closed doors, never allowed to go out. I don’t even know how I lasted this long with you.”

“Because deep inside you know you love it too,” he stated. “Admit it, you love the thrill. The hiding, the fighting, and the screaming. You wouldn’t have stayed with me this long if you didn’t love it.”

He was right. You did love it.

The look in his eyes was doing something to your heart, convincing you to stay. But your mind was screaming at you to leave. You deserved someone and something better than this.

And just like what he said to you earlier, to use your fucking brain, you used your brain this time.

“This time I’ve had enough. I hope that we both find happiness, even if it means being apart,” you told him with a heavy heart.

He didn’t speak and you took that as a sign to leave.

He watched as you left the bedroom, not even bothering to get the clothes you kept in his closet. He sat on the edge of the bed again, left shattered as he heard your heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and the sound of the elevator door closing when you exited the house.

It’s been a few weeks since you walked away in the heat of the fight that night. A couple of race weekends had already passed.

Max has probably texted and called you a hundred times, none of them you replied to or picked up. You rested on your bed, relishing the silence that your apartment in Menton had. It was the complete opposite of Max’s penthouse, where you screamed at each other almost every day. You looked at your phone, scrolling through Twitter only to see the usual tweets from fans reacting to the previous race. One particular tweet caught your attention. It was a tweet about Max.

You laughed bitterly, thinking how they truly had no idea.

Just then, someone knocked on your door and your heart pounded with anticipation. You opened it to see Max, wearing a hoodie and a mask so the public wouldn’t recognize him. He let himself in when you didn’t acknowledge him. He walked into your living room, hesitantly glancing at you. He was unsure how you’ll react.

“Get back with me,” he said.

“Wow, not even an introduction? No ‘how are you?’ or ‘how have you been?’”

“I’m miserable without you,” he admitted. “Please, Y/N.”

You didn’t answer.

“I can change. If you don’t want us to fight or scream at each other, I’ll do my best to control myself.”

“It was never about the screaming, because if I’m being honest, a part of me loved it,” you confessed.

He stared at you with a glint in his eyes soon after you said that.

“Although, I would appreciate it if we didn’t argue almost every day. It gets exhausting to deal with you sometimes.”

“I can do that. I’ll work on myself.”

“But?” you asked. You knew there was more to what he was saying. You were sure there was a catch to this.

“But we still have to stay hidden for now. Give me more time, Y/N.”

And there it was. The catch.

“You know, I get the whole hiding from the public thing. I always knew you were a private person and being in the public eye doesn’t help that. But not introducing me to your family? Not even your friends? I can’t even tell my own family because you don’t want me to. I feel like your dirty little secret.”

“That’s not entirely true. Daniel knows. He knows you because I’ve told him about you.”

Your eyebrows were knitted from confusion. “How am I just knowing about this now?”

“It’s not important. I drunkenly told him one time but I warned him not to tell you or anyone what he knew.”

“Why? All this time I could’ve talked to him about us…”

“Why would you even want to talk to him?” he asked, a hint of jealousy evident in his voice.

“You don’t get it. I feel lonely, Max. It would’ve been nice if I had someone to talk to about our relationship. It gets tiring lying to my friends and family and declining their invitations when they want to go out and find me someone to date.”

“I swear I’ll eventually introduce you to everyone. Just not right now.”

“Max… I don’t know,” you told him. “I can’t keep waiting anymore. I don’t want to.”

“Y/N, please…”

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Max.”

“Y/N…”

“Leave,” you opened the door for him.

He looked at you once more, hoping you’ll change your mind. But when you stared at the door instead of him, he obliged.

A month passed, and Max never texted or called you again. You knew you should be thankful. This was what you wanted, right? You told him to leave. And that’s what he did. He left.

And now here you were, sitting alone with your stupid pride as you stared at your phone. You went through the photographs, selecting every photo you had of him just to delete it.

You remembered the pain of leaving, the longing to see Max once more, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different now.

You remembered seeing him again and the pain of telling him to leave. How he pulled your heartstrings to try and make you stay with him, and the way his eyes glistened with hurt and regret.

But then you also remembered that his resolution was to wait.

Max Verstappen was many things, but when it came to you, sure was not one of them.

Time was not stopping anytime soon. You weren’t getting younger. You deserved to be with someone who was sure. Someone who knew what he was doing.

But still.

There was always a ‘but’ and a ‘still’.

He had a hold on you.

And up until now, the hold was strong, never losing its grip.

You kept going back over the things you both said, recalling the slamming doors and all the things that you misread.

Looking back, you knew you were the one who told him it was over, but you only did that because you were so mad. If he really knew everything about you, then why couldn’t he see that you wanted him to chase after you?

He came back one time, tried to convince you for one time. Was that all of it?

You stood up, walking towards the window just to stare at the concrete road. You imagined Max standing right there, coming back to ask you to stay with him again.

You wanted him to stand outside your window, throwing pebbles at it to get your attention. And then you imagined him screaming how much he loved you, although that would probably never happen because, again, he was a private person. He couldn’t even introduce you to his family, how in the world could he scream he loved you outside your place where there was no doubt other people would hear him?

Droplets of rain covered the window. It started raining.

You wanted him to be outside, to wait there in the pouring rain because he came back for more.

For more moments with you.

For more time with you.

For more you.

And if he did come back, you knew you wouldn’t want him to leave again.

Because if you looked closer, you might’ve been the one who told him to leave, but all you really wanted was him.

If only he tried a bit more like what you expected him to do. If only he pushed a bit more, begged a bit more, and fought a bit more. If he asked you to stay with him again, you would’ve said yes.

If only what you needed was at the other side of your door. With his face and his beautiful eyes, bearing a conversation with the little white lies. And then the night would beautifully fade like an old picture because you were with him.

You broke down crying. Was it your fault because you couldn’t wait more like what he wanted you to do? Was it worth this mess?

After everything, you must confess… you needed him.

But he wasn’t here anymore. He wasn’t coming back.

So, you wiped your tears and looked away from the window you were staring through. You glanced at the clock you had in your room, sighing as you realized it was already past 11 p.m. and here you were breaking down over someone who kept you like a secret. The worst part was, you couldn’t talk about this to someone because no one else knew—just you, Max, and Daniel Ricciardo who you didn’t even know that much personally.

You grabbed your phone from your bed, eyes widening when you looked at the unread notification.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 8 months

Text

Tear Down My Reason [2]

Orderly!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: It's been five days since you fucked Blue in his office, and four days since you last saw him.

Part 1/Series Masterlist

A/N: Oh no, this was meant to be a one shot. What happened? (Can be read on it's own.)

So I've listed this as afab!reader, I am afab and gender fluid myself and I’m just exploring that a bit in my writing here. There is a part where Blue refers to the reader as a ‘girl’ and the reader asks him not to. (I'm writing this from the mindset that reader is non-binary & afab. Still tagging as f!reader because reader has that anatomy.)

Warnings: overuse of italics, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, there's some power dynamics in here, gonna say dubious concent because reader is a patient, Blue being fucking gross and wiping cum on his t-shirt, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 3354

________________________________

You knocked on the door, three quick raps of your knuckles.

Nausea festered in your throat, burned along your limbs. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to hide the faint tremors that threatened to take over.

It had been five days. Five days since you’d broken into Blue’s office. Four since Lilly returned.

You’d done your very best to stay out of Blue’s way: shying away from any of his usual haunts, staying with the group so you weren’t on your own, anything you could think of to steer clear of him.

But it seemed like he was avoiding you too.

Other than the morning that Lilly came back, you hadn’t seen him. At first it was a weight lifted, but by the second day that weight had come crashing down with a force that pinned you to the earth.

You wanted to see him.

You needed to.

It didn’t make any sense.

You were about to knock again, sneaking one glance over your shoulder to make sure that there was no one else in the corridor to see you, when Blue answered.

“Come in.” His voice was stern, reserved and you swallowed before you opened the door, quickly stepping in and closing it behind you.

Your heart raced and you bit together your lips to try to calm your rapid breathing. This was stupid, foolish, you shouldn’t feel this way.

Blue was writing something, checking over some form at his desk. His reading glances balanced on the bridge of his nose. He didn’t look up.

“Yes?”

“I, erm,” you started.

Instantaneously Blue’s attention snapped to you, drawn away from the paperwork like a magnet, unable to deny himself.

“I wanted to see you, I mean,” you looked down, frustration bubbling below your skin, you’d gone over this, rehearsed this, “if you’re not busy, I…”

Blue stood quickly, throwing his glasses in a drawer before rushing towards you in six short strides. He took hold of your face, gently caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Honey…” he whispered, searching your eyes for something. A small smile pulled at his lips, relief relaxing his tense muscles. He leaned forward and kissed you deeply, hungrily.

The sudden force of his actions took you by surprise as he pushed you back against the door. Using your little gasp of shock to his advantage and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You kissed him back with equal intensity, sliding your hands up around his shoulders and to the back of his neck. Pulling him closer to your body and grinding against him.

“Blue,” you murmured as he kissed down your neck and yanked your t-shirt lower so that he could suck a bruise below the collar.

He hummed an answer back to you, savouring the taste of your skin.

You shifted slightly to stop the door handle from digging into your hip, pressing your back further against the cool frosted glass of his office door. Your thigh just brushed against his already half hard cock and he whined loudly. The sound making your heart swell.

“Been thinking about you everyday.” He muttered against your neck, one hand trailing down to your waist while the other pinched your right nipple.

He bit your jugular, all teeth, as you let out a little gasp, arching into his touch.

“Every night, just wanting you honey.” He kissed your jaw, your cheek as he pushed his left thigh between your legs that you quickly parted for him. A groan escaped his lips at your eagerness.

“Why didn’t you?” You breathe between sighs of pleasure.

“Why didn’t I what?” He kisses you again fervidly, licking into your mouth like he could dissolve into you.

“Why didn’t you come see me?” You manage to get out between kisses.

Blue smiles, keeping his forehead pressed against yours. “Why didn’t you come see me?”

You groan a little in frustration and pull him back to you by his shirt, forcing his lips to yours again. You can feel the smug smile on his face quickly melt away, overcome with need.

He pushes you further into the door, hoisting your right leg over his hip and grinding against you. Happy to swallow down every moan of pleasure that escapes you as he rubs his quickly hardening cock over your aching heat.

His grip is bruising, his teeth nip at your bottom lip, but that’s all overridden by the way he purposely teases your clit with his length. Listening to every gasp and sigh that escapes you to perfectly pin down the right pressure and tempo to have you so close to falling apart at the seams within minutes.

“Blue,” you gulp, whining in frustration as he pulls his hips back ever so slightly when you try to grind against him harder. “Please!”

“Need me so badly already, honey?”

You nod as he continues his movements, eagerly rocking against you. A large smile plastering itself all over his face as his heart flutters rapidly in his chest.

“Want to hear you say it.”

You obey without thinking, so desperate to chase your high. “Need you so badly Blue, I-”

He kisses you again, cutting off your words and rutting against you harder, delighted by the high pitched whine that escapes you.

You start to tense, your thighs squeezing his hips, your fingers digging into his skin. You’re so close you can taste it, millimetres from the edge and just needing a little more, just a fraction, so you can-

He steps back, moving away from you and you can’t stop the sob from falling out of your mouth. Desperately, you try to cling onto him, to force him back against you. But he refuses.

You look at him, frustration and need burning along your nerves in equal measure.

He touches your cheek lightly. “Don’t look so betrayed honey, I’ll take care of you.” He kisses you lightly, a soft caress of his lips. “I promise.” Before he drops to his knees and lightly bites at the slither of skin not covered by your top or trousers.

You breathe in sharply and he smiles up at you, watching your reaction eagerly as he slides his hands up your calves, your outer thighs, and then slowly dips his fingers under the waistband of your trousers.

Your blood thunders in your ears as he waits quietly, staring up at you with an almost devout energy.

“Blue,” you wiggled a little, needing something, anything, to ease the ache in your core. “Please.”

He grinned and nodded, slowly pulling down your trousers and underwear to your knees. He quickly slipped off your shoes, holding onto your calves to keep you stabilised, and then yanked your trousers and underwear the rest of the way down and off.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, not waisting anymore time as he brushed his forefinger over your clit, circling it once before running it through your folds. The groan of pleasure that rumbled in his chest was obscene, almost enough to cover the sound of your wetness as he glided his finger against you.

Without warning he dove against you, slinging your left thigh over his shoulder and pressing his tongue into your heat.

You gasped, grabbing hold of his shoulder and short hair to steady yourself and moaning loudly as licked board, heavy stripes over your centre.

His groan of pleasure echoed yours, his eyes rolling back into his head as you lightly pulled on his hair. The sensation blending with the taste of you left him dizzily high, so painfully hard that he had to reach down with his free hand and squeeze his balls just to take the edge off.

“Blue,” you bit at your bottom lip, trying to muffle your sounds. What if someone walked by? What if-

He sucked your clit, flicking at the nub with the tip of his tongue and you nearly cracked the back of your head open with how hard you flung it against the glass.

“Please Blue, pleasepleasepleaseplease,” you gasped, bucking up into his mouth as pleasure raced along your veins like lightning. So close, so close.

He didn’t stop, didn’t falter in his movements, grabbing hold of your backside and pushing you closer to him, trying to suffocate himself between your thighs.

You cried out, holding onto him for dear life as you came loudly. Sobbing in pleasure as he continued to suck and lick at you, his sounds of delight harmonising with your own.

He kissed you softly as you came back to yourself, nuzzling into the soft muscle of your inner thigh.

His eyes were blown wide with lust when he looked up at you, a dreamy glaze over his face as he smiled happily.

Sweat started to cool on your skin, exhaustion sinking into your bones at how hard you’d cum.

Blue pulled up the collar of his top and wiped your release from his mouth and chin before he gently took your leg off his shoulder and put your foot back onto the floor.

You swayed a little under your own weight again and he quickly held onto your thighs to steady you as he stood up. His expression was syrupy, infatuated as he leaned in and kissed you deeply. His hard cock rubbing against you.

You poured yourself into the kiss, holding him close and breathing in deeply.

He dipped his fingers under the helm of your t-shirt, tracing his fingers along your sides and smiling as you shivered.

Without speaking he slowly took hold of your hands and guided you away from the door, further into the room.

You followed him, moving as if you were under a spell.

He stepped to the side and manoeuvred you so that the backs of your thighs pressed against the cool edge of his desk.

So slowly he moved forward, caging you in and lightly trailing his lips over your neck, savouring every sweet sound you made.

You lifted your arms when he tugged at your shirt, helping him to ease it over your head and throwing it to the side. Your bra following soon after.

He kissed along your collarbone, pressing light touches along your thighs with his fingers. You watched him, enraptured as goosebumps broke out along your skin.

Languidly, he kissed back up to your neck, brushing his lips against your ear. “Wait.”

He leaned forward even more, pressing against you as he shoved the piles of paperwork off his desk and to the floor before going back to sucking at your neck.

You whimpered his name, clutching onto him as he slowly laid you back down against his desk and situated himself between your legs.

He kissed lower, taking each nipple into his mouth and sucking softly. Flicking the tip of his tongue over your skin just like he had over your clit.

You squirmed underneath him, your breath hitching as he paused, kissed your sternum and then moved onto the other breast. Repeating the pattern over and over until tears began to build in the corners of your eyes.

“Blue,” you whined, trying to buck up against him but he would only allow you to rut against him for a second before he moved back and pushed your hips, forcing you back down flat against the desk once more.

“Yes honey?” He breathed between kisses, still sucking your breasts. “You need something?”

You cried out in frustration. “Please.”

“You know I love to hear you beg,” he sucked your hard nipple into his mouth again, releasing it with a hot, wet pop. “But you gotta help me out here, I don’t know what you want.” He teased, his voice light and unbelievably innocent.

Exasperation boils just below your skin. For one moment you think about getting up and pushing him away. But in the same instant Blue licks a flat, broad stripe over your right nipple, moaning happily as he does so. He repeats the action, this time rolling his body against yours and rubbing his cock against your pussy.

He groans, tracing his tongue over you again as he watches you screw up your eyes in pleasure. “You’re soaking into my work clothes honey.” He mutters, his eyes gleaming. “So fucking wet and needy for me, need to cum again, hmm? Need me to fuck you?” He teases, his voice low and desperate with his own desires.

You nod, swallowing down a moan as he continues to grind against your core.

“Need my dick so bad?” He slides his hand down to your folds, slipping the tips of his fingers into your heat. “Need it right here?”

“Fuck,” you grab hold of his forearm, trying to push him further inside and expecting him to pull away.

Instead he follows your movement, sinking in deeper and curling his fingers perfectly, brushing over your clit with his thumb.

You gasp, crying out softly and Blue breathes in, glee glittering in his eyes.

“Oh, there we go. That’s better isn’t it?” He slowly glides his thick fingers out and back in, groaning quietly at how your slick coats him and starts to run down his hand.

You nod, unable to form words and barely able to breathe as he keeps stretching you so perfectly.

“That’s much better.” He whispers to himself.

He watches you for a moment, the pleasure he’s pulling from you making you lightheaded, before he stands up straight, keeping his fingers deep within you and adding a third.

You whine, your back arching off the desk as he sinks further, sending sparks of bliss along your spine.

Blue pulls down his scrubs just enough to free his aching cock, finally taking himself in hand and pumping a few times as he gazes at you contort in pleasure.

He swallows, it’s almost too much. His balls tighten as he presses up and strokes that wonderfully devastating spot inside of you.

You cry out, so close again and gasping.

Blue pulls his hand away from you suddenly, wrapping his wet fingers around his dick and smearing your slick all over his length and groaning.

You barely have a moment to lament the loss before Blue’s grabbing hold of your ankles and placing them both on his right shoulder, forcing your legs together. He continues to circle your clit with his left thumb as he rubs the head of his cock through your sopping folds before pushing firmly in.

The stretch is different at this angle, more intense as he keeps your legs together and presses his chest against the back of calves.

You cry out, your back arching fully off the desk as he fills you.

“Okay honey?” He groans softly as you clench around him at the pet name.

“Good!” You manage to stammer out, revelling in the sensation. Letting it build up and wash over you in waves.

He turns his head and kisses your ankle as he bottoms out, breathing hard for a moment to compose himself, to not cum straight away.

He pulses within you, pushing up against you so tightly in this position you can practically feel the beat of his heart.

Slowly, he starts to move, easing in and out of you while watching your face with rapt attention.

It’s too good.

You choke back a sob, clawing at the table underneath you to find something to cling onto as he pushes in so deep.

It’s like you can see stars, your muscles tighten and shake. A string of expletives fall out of your mouth.

Blue groans, watching your breasts bounce as he rocks into you, barely pulling out before he pushes back in, wanting to hit that spot as many times as he can now that he’s found it.

Sweat beads on your forehead, the sound of your wetness echoes with every thrust. You grab onto the edge of the desk above your head so that you can arch up and meet his movements, his thumb is still circling your clit and driving you insane.

“Blue,” you sob, your face screwed up in pleasure, your toes curling as he keeps thrusting perfectly. “Please, please don’t stop."

“Not gonna stop honey,” he groans through gritted teeth, pulling your legs tighter against his chest and rocking up into you, rolling on the balls of his feet. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Gotta cum all over me.”

You flinch involuntarily at that word - girl. Screwing up your face in distain.

“Honey,” he slows instantly, “you okay? Did it hurt?”

“Please don’t stop, please, pleasepleaseplease,” you move against him trying to get the angle right, desperate for him to keep going.

“I won’t honey, I won’t” he kisses your ankle and picks up the pace again, once more hitting deliriously deep.

You gasp out, your eyes rolling back into your head. You’re so close. You can feel it building and building, the heat beginning to scratch along every nerve ending.

Blue thrusts forward, changing the pressure ever so slightly as he plants his left foot firmly on the floor and it’s like you’ve died and gone to heaven.

You scream silently, even muscle tensing as you cum, your walls squeezing him so tightly, milking him for everything he’s got.

“Fuck.” Blue gasps, barely managing another thrust before his own orgasm overtakes him as he pumps hot, thick cum deep inside you.

He slowly lets go of his vice grip around your legs as he recovers, his hips bucking shallowly of their own volition.

But he doesn’t pull out straight away, instead he carefully moves your legs down to either side of his hips so he can lean forward and kiss you softly.

He smiles when you kiss him back, gently brushing the tears from your cheeks with his fingers.

“You’re so pretty when you cum, you know that?” He muttered and you giggle.

He pauses for a moment, a small frown furrowing his brow. “Did I hurt you?”

You look up at him confused. “No?”

“Are you sure? Earlier I mean, you looked-”

“Oh,” you shake your head. “No, you didn’t hurt me.”

“What was it then?” He bites his lip, sincere in his actions.

You paused and swallow, looking away from him for a moment.

“Honey,” he strokes your cheek. “Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You close your eyes but speak. “You, you said ‘good girl’.”

You feel him nod against your chest.

“I don’t, that’s not… I’m not… I…” you sigh.

“Boy?” He asks, no judgement in his voice.

You open your eyes, surprised at his seeming understanding, but shake your head.

“Non-binary?”

This time you nod and Blue gives you a small smile, taping his temple with his fingers.

“Non-binary.” He repeats. “It won’t happen again hone- wait, is honey okay?”

You giggle. “I like honey.”

He grins broadly and nods, stroking your cheek and sighing happily.

As he begins to soften he slowly pulls out, yanking his t-shirt off as he does so and uses it to clean the mess he made between your legs before he wipes himself down.

You sit up, watching him as he tucks himself back into his trousers. “You gonna wash that?” You motion to his shirt.

He gives you a wicked grin. “Oh, no, I’m gonna wear it for the rest of the day.”

You laugh and playfully swat at him, he catches your wrists with ease, moving close again and you don’t struggle.

He kisses you softly and lets go of you so you can run your hands over his chest and back.

“Do I have to wait another four days to see you again?” There’s a playful tone to his voice, but there’s something in his eyes. A pain he’s trying to cover up.

You shake your head. “You can see me whenever you like.” You whisper.

He kisses you again, slow and deep, just like how he fucked you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What if I want to see you all the time?”

You nip at his bottom lip. “Then I guess you’ll see me all the time.”

Blue chuckles and buries his face into your neck, hugging you tight.

____________________________________

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hanasnx · 2 years

Text

-ˏ͛ ꒷꒰ anakin skywalker ⿻ m.list ꒷ˏ͛-

MINORS DNI 18+ ༄

"Please just save me from this darkness." — Snow Patrol. (2006). Make This Go On Forever.

彡 ch: anakin skywalker 「 � 」

── non-linear series ┆ KINKTOBER.

smut ¡! ❞

✩ kinktober 2023 | SUMMARY: krayt house presents an all new series called house of amateurs.

── series ┆ CHAPTER SERIES.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ stranded | SUMMARY: be a part of the story! vote on the poll at the bottom. ✩ part two

other ¡! ❞

✩ exit music for a film | SUMMARY: somehow aware of anakin skywalker’s knightfall before the events take place, you seek to change the ending before it happens. ✩ part two

── one shots ┆ OVER 1K.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ fantasizing | SUMMARY: seeing you cozied up with general skywalker caused the clones to talk about what they’d do to you if you were theirs. anakin stands by and listens, smug that he’s allowed to do anything he wants to you, and his battalion can only fantasize about it.

✩ how he learned to kiss | SUMMARY: coaxing anakin to spill the story on how he got so good at kissing as a virgin before he even met you, he relays a story of his youth.

✩ cherries and wine | SUMMARY: anakin takes good care of his princess.

smut ¡! ❞

✩ talk huttese to me | SUMMARY: intent to get his mind off of his hard work, you ask to learn more about anakin’s native language: huttese. when he talks dirty to you in it, you can’t help but beg for more. and he gets off to the fact you have no idea what kind of depraved things he’s saying to you while he pleasures you.

✩ final girl | SUMMARY: the neighborhood serial killer has a soft spot for you. you didn’t realize how really close you were to him. after your best friend confesses his feelings for you, he confesses something else as well. something far more sinister.

✩ one more night | SUMMARY: anakin can’t accept the fact that you and him split, so he shows up at your door in the middle of the night.

✩ a lesson in huttese | SUMMARY: after a market mishap, anakin gives you a more personal lesson in how to speak his native language.

✩ starlight | SUMMARY: a happy reunion.

✩ give a little more | SUMMARY: what starts out as a romantic massage for you, ends with anakin skywalker's cock massaging your insides.

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ tit fucking ✩ the aftermath of getting a full body wax ✩ based on a tiktok ✩ arm kink ✩ dry humping ✩ black eye ✩ good at art ✩ green in the eye ✩ parasomnia ✩ prompt #100 ✩ eye contact part two ✩ prompt #187 ✩ another daddy ✩ stung twice ✩ spilling secrets ✩ stranded ✩ fan dancer ✩ sucking fingers ✩ mami ✩ dumbification ✩ baby fever ✩ picking you up ✩ throat fuck ✩ dacryphilia ✩ riding ✩ she’s busy ✩ arm kink: revisted ✩ breathplay ✩ push ✩ adultfilm!anakin

smut ¡! ❞

✩ early mornings ✩ prompt #65 + #68 ✩ squirting ✩ honey ✩ music taste ✩ fight

other ¡! ❞

✩ ahsoka & obi wan talking about you ✩ sacred cleansing ✩ if i built a raft, will you stay with me then? ✩ profighter au ✩ breakeven ✩ drunk ✩ 6'7!anakin

── headcanons ┆ LIST OR NARRATION.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ wearing glasses ✩ “daddy” ✩ sub content ✩ eye contact ✩ beat-up before sex ✩ opinion on orgasm denial ✩ flirting tactics ✩ sparring sex ✩ rainbow kiss ✩ fucks like he’s not pretty ✩ smut alphabet: A - B ✩ babydaddy!anakin ✩ dick headcanons ✩ ex-bf!

smut ¡! ❞

✩ kinks ✩ pornstar au ✩ his sexual depravity vent | part two

other ¡! ❞

✩ general headcanons ✩ toxic ✩ petnames

彡 ch: anakin skywalker x padmé amidala 「 � 」

── one shots ┆ OVER 1K.

smut ¡! ❞

✩ just bad, bad decisions | SUMMARY: having officially broken it off because of anakin’s stupid mistake, anakin and padmé have not seen each other since. when they lock eyes during a football game they both attend, they find their way back to each other during the game. and set aside their differences to reconnect under the bleachers.

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ mad ✩ sacred heart

彡 ch: anakin skywalker x riyo chuchi 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

other ¡! ❞

✩ eclipse ✩ i do

彡 ch: anakin skywalker x zena daren 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ interview

NAVI | M.LIST | RULES | LINKS | ABOUT

#masterlist #indy: series #indy: one shots #indy: drabbles #indy: headcanons #indy: edits #ch: anakin #ch: anidala #ch: rinakin #ch: zenakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x padmé amidala #anakin skywalker x riyo chuchi #anakin skywalker x zena daren

525 notes · View notes

echantedtoon · 3 days

Text

Ocean Deep Ch5 Problems And Life

(WARNINGS: Someone's barn does get semi burnt down but no one gets hurt or killed, Mentioning of a wound on Y/ns hand. Mentioning of death.

Will have a small time skips in a few places.)

The night was quiet tonight. Nothing but the crickets chirping and the frogs croaking to the woods surrounding the small town asleep to her actions. The only source of light being the stars above and the bobbing lantern in a pair of old grizzled hands.

The old woman shuffled about looking over her shoulders constantly with squinting eyes scanning the darkness for any wondering eyes. Of course none were to be seen this late at night as everyone else was already fast asleep and anyone still awake was sensible enough to stay inside out of the darkness. Grizzled hands hands turned back to the lock on the chains that were so tightly wound around the double doors. A rusted old key was placed inside the lock and with a click it fell to the ground at her feet. A series of clanks followed by the rope of chains following it to the ground. Silence resumed once again as eyes gave one last look around before the door creaks open and in she went.

"Alright you disgusting fish bait," her voice echoed in the darkness as the lantern light illuminated the surrounding areas. "Here's your food. Keep up the good behavior and maybe I'll consider giving you one feeding a day."

No one answered her. However a sight unusual as the creatures she cared for was spotted by the light. A strange crunching sensation under her feet that wasn't there the last time she was here. The light illuminated..straw?? Confusion turned to horror and panic as she followed trail and saw a massive pile of hay disturbed. The top completely slumped over and a hole dug right in the middle revealing the floor underneath. Thud went the lantern as it shattered to the ground, and thus went the fish as it tumbled to the floor.

"...No. No. No no no no no no no!" Hay and straw flew through the air as old hands dug into the pile as her body lunged into it. "NO! NO! NO!"

BOX! BOX! WHERE WAS THE BOX?!...There was NO box! That didn't make any sense! Why was there no box?! Where was the box?! It was supposed to be here! Why wasn't it here!? No one has the key! The doors were locked! The chains were undesturbed! No one else has been here! NO ONE SHOULD KNOW....about...the..She paused. Dropping the hay in her hands before slowly turning to the curtain of old tarps and fishnets. ...No. no. NO!! Her feet shuffled as quickly as they could in her old age to the curtains. Practically ripping the things from their hinges as she tore past them temporarily getting tangled in their grip before wretching her hand free and stop in front of the filthy tank. Absolutely nothing moved within it's murky waters. No signs of any life within it's foul depths.

"NO NO NO NO!! You must be in there! You must!" Weak fists balled up and hit the dirty glass not even putting a crack in it. "ANSWER ME!!"

No answer came back. Panicked old legs hurried back to where the lights were sparking out from between the cracks of broken glass. Why?! How?! Who could have done this?! Where did they go?! This made no sense! No sense at all! Someone was behind this! Who?! A burning smell filled the air as she turned to it's source, and screamed as flamed danced across the hay strewn floors-

"Good morning everyone! I hope you're hungry because I made you a few pies!"

You smiled at the three women gazing at you from the tub as you carried in the tray with three massive fruit pies on it. You'd gotten up bright and early in the morning to rummage around your pantry in search for anything to make these three. You wanted make sure they were actually well fed before you released them at the end of next month, this wasn't meat but it WAS filling especially if they were big pies filled with nutritious fruit and was sweetened with honey instead of sugar, which honey was also healthier for you. As long as the food was filling and good for them, then that's all that mattered. But you'd still be sure to try to get them more meats too. It was times like this that you were glad to live in a fishing community. There was always fish laying around or dropped from passing carts you nabbed or the venders selling cheap fish a few days old that wasn't shipped off in their bigger hauls to other bigger towns. You were sure you could nab some more somewhere.

"HHHHHHAAAA!! THAT SMELLS SO YUMMY!!," Suma shouted in awe at the tray and lightly drooling at the sight.

Makio was right next to her looking bored again and raising a brow as Hinatsuru only smiled as usual. "Pie? What's a pie?"

"It's essentially a desert but it's on the healthier side of deserts," you explained placing the warm baked goods in front of them, "It's just fruits cut or smashed up and mixed up with sugar and wrapped in bread dough before you bake it. I just happened to use honey instead since that seemed like a better option for you. You can make pot pies with meats and vegetables too but unfortunately I had no meat for any pot pie recipes. Sorry." You didn't bring utensils this time already figuring out that mermaids preferred to eat with their hands instead.

"These will be fine. Thank you."

Suma immediately grabbed the first one which was a mix of cherries and other fruit and honey before just taking a huge chop off the top of it. You blinked as red berry juice smeared her lower face as she hummed in delight.

"Its so good!!," she gushed between chews.

Makio yelled something about manners as Hinatsuru sighed, but you couldn't help but blink. Before giggling at the sight. Suma's bubbly and energetic attitude sure was something. She was a lot emotionally but to be fair she had a good reason to be so fair away from home. But she looked so cute and ridiculous pouting with full cheeks as Makio scolded her you couldn't help but smile. Makio was pretty in her own right too. Compared to the others, Makio was the most serious and ready to jump into situations but she meant well and her protective nature was sweet despite her constant bickering. Hinatsuru was the one who had the brains to keep level head and seemed to be the leader as both Makio and Suma followed her lead. Did mermaids even have heirchy systems?? Hmm. Maybe you should research them a bit more, just enough to make their stay more comfortable.

Your giggling had the three stopping to look at you. Their eyes widening. For the first time in the four days they've been there, this was the first time they've seen the human girl smiling at them. It made the three almost stars in awe as she smiled and giggled at their antics before speaking again.

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it. I'll grab you a few towels and enough food to tide you over until I can come back from work but I'll try to grab a few fish on the way back."

Makio nudged the tray aside and reached out to make grabbing reaches at your still injured palm. By now you've figured out that it seemed in mermaid nature to care for one another. You've walked in on Suma and Hinatsuru helping to pull loose gold scales from Makio's tail and to the three fixing up each other's hair with the comb you've leant them. So you allowed them(usually Makio) to 'treat' your wounds even though you've already taken cared of it. MaYou had gathered all the gold scales along with what was left of the torn box and just burnt everything in your fireplace. It would've looked suspicious just burying it and throwing it away might've lead someone to spot you, so you figured burning up all the evidence was the best solution. Makio gave your bare palm a look over and the wound that wasn't really deep and was already scabbed over. The mermaid just stared at it closely before making you lower more and dip your hand into the water where she proceeded to scrub at it with her knuckles. You suspected she opted for her knuckles instead because of the sharp nails these three had. Didn't want to cut you further. It stung a bit, but the way Makio did it wasn't hard enough to really hurt.

If you really had to compare them to something, it'd be a small trio of wolves. Hinatsuru was the leader while the other two followed her lead and the trio helped one another with things.

"Thank you. But haven't you already been to work? How many times must you go?"

"I work Mondays to Fridays. Today's Friday so I'll have the next two days off until next Monday."

"You humans stress yourselves too much." Makio frowned at your hand lifting it from the water before you knew it there was another ripping sound. Another long wet strip of fabric was soon being wrapped around your hand. You'd just let them keep the destroyed dress. It wasn't worth starting a fight over. "There. Much better. I don't know why you keep taking it off!"

Because people would get suspicious and ask questions. It was easier to hide your wound if there wasn't a bandage on your hand. All you had to do was keep your palm facing down and hide your hand enough until it scars over or completely heals up. And if anyone asks, you'll just give the excuse of cutting your hand on a pair of gardening sheers.

"I'll think about it." You gently pulled your now wrapped hand away. "But I need to work in order to get money which I use to buy food, and now more than ever I need that money." You stood back up smiling at the three whilst Suma continued to practically shove her entire face into her pie. "I'm gonna go get some food to leave you guys. While I'm gone, remember to be quiet so you don't alert anyone. As far as everyone knows you three and I are the only ones who knows you're here."

Which meant Suma couldn't cry loudly and Makio couldn't just yell at her. There was no way you could explain why you had three mermaids decked out in gold and jewels in your tub, and worse there was no way you could explain you literally trespassed on someone's property twice and broke in to steal. You'd be punished severely for all the treachery. You were already taking a big risk deciding to keep them here until they were properly fed enough to combat the days of going hungry. You just wanted your normal life free from the stress of supernatural beings and just the way it was.

"Don't worry. We will."

That's how it started. It should've been a peaceful morning. You'd left them with enough food to last them the few hours until you were able to come back home, and left to go to work. However there was a problem. As you walked along the roads and normal buzz of people there seemed to be a certain.. tension in the air. It was hard to explain really. But it was like if you stepped into the middle of your parents arguing and they tried to pretend they weren't arguing. A few groups of people were in clusters in the street whispering and pointing at the end of the road which confused you because there was nothing there other than the normal houses and people out and about. That was really..strange. You only shook your head and continued walking until you stopped in front of the shop- And WHY was there a cluster of people around the shop doors? A small group of around eight or nine people were gathered in front of the doors and peering at them like a sideshow.

Alright. That was absolutely strange.

You brushed it off at first. Sometimes if there was a particularly beautiful display people would gather around to look at it, but the closer you got you noticed that the faces didn't look...Happy. your walking slowed considerably. They were all frowns. Uncertain of curious looks. Oh no. Instantly the worst case scenario crossed your mind as a possibility. Did someone else disappear?! Were they also carried away from town by a monster?! Was someone else here to pick out flower arrangements for a funeral or memorial service? Who was it this time? Was it someone you know?

You felt a hefty rock in your guts as you continued forward. A lump formed in your throat which you swallowed thickly. Wondering what your boss would say about the situation-

"I'LL ASK FOR THE FIFTH AND LAST TIME!! WHERE DID YOU PUT IT?!"

....Wait. Your boss wouldn't say that to a grieving family. That sounds so rude.

"I'm...sorry?? But I don't understand what you mean. Were the rose bushes not to your liking? I can give you a refund for everything but you'll need to return the plants first."

Ah. Now THAT sounded much more like Mrs. Satoshi. You blinked again as a frustrated yell came from the open front door...Hey. Wait a minute. That second voice wasn't your boss. It sounded much older, raspier, and a lot ruder. Something wasn't right. You approached the door but yelped as a smaller figure exited the front door and shoving people out of the way.

"THIS ISN'T OVER YOU THEIVING BASTARDS!!" a smaller older woman stopped just outside the crowd and raised a fist at the shop entrance shaking it in a fit of pure rage. "I KNOW YOU HAVE IT SOMEWHERE IN THERE AND WHEN I FIND IT, YOU'LL HANG BY YOUR THEIVING FINGERS!!" She then turned on her heel and stomped away- "MOVE!!" She shrieked at you as you jumped out of the way watching her go by.

...You blinked. And blinked again. Before shaking your head and looking at the shop again and making your way back towards the shop.

"Alright. There's nothing to see here people." Nico sternly shooed the crowd away from the door. "If you're not buying flowers then you need to leave. Go on. Shoo!"

You went straight through the mumbling crowd as they slowly dispersed and Nico looked surprised to see you, but you instead pushed past him and into the shop where you found Mrs. Satoshi holding an empty plant pot looking a mix of shocked and hurt but mostly confused. Very VERY confused. But she still smiled when you just walked in.

"Ah! Y/n dear. There you are. Right on time as usual."

"What happened?! What's going on?!" You looked around the shop. Nothing looked out of place and it looked the same as yesterday. "Did someone else disappear again?!"

"Oh no. Nothing like that." You sighed in relief. Thank goodness. "It just seems that Mrs. Henya is in a little tizzy."

You froze. Eyes going wide again. "...What?"

Mrs. Satoshi nodded. "Yes. It was rather strange. Apparently there was an accident that occured last night. According to her neighbor she dropped her lantern by accident when she was checking on her barn. What she was doing wondering out there in the middle of the night I have no idea." She turned to place the pot next to a few others. "But she stormed in here ranting about how we stole something from her."

Your body felt frozen like ice as you stared. Mrs. Henya?! Stolen property?! Barn?! "I-..I-I see. What exactly...was it?"

Your boss shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea. She kept yelling how she knows we stole 'it' because we were the only ones near her property, but she wouldn't tell me what 'it' was that I supposedly stole. I kept asking her what 'it' was but she refuses to tell me. Only demanded that I give 'it' back to her. I swear I think that woman is riled up by the accident and just looking for trouble!"

You chuckled nervously subconsciously pulling your bandaged hand further into your large sleeve. Thanking the gods it was out of sight. You'd have to get rid of the bandage before anyone asked questions. "Yeah. The stress is probably getting to her on top of the stress her family is dealing with with the funeral. I'm sure it's nothing."

Your boss agreed nodding with an annoyed huff. "It most certainly is! I absolutely did not, won't ever, and never before stolen anything."

"R-Right! Um...I'm gonna go organize and clean out the closet! A clean closet helps keep mice away!"

"That's a good idea. I wouldn't want mice chewing on my precious petals. That would ruin sales."

You smiled and turned away to start walking away towards the nearby closet where some of the extra stuff was kept. This was bad! This was really, really, REALLY bad!! Mrs. Henya knew that you broke into the barn and stole away the mermaids! She just didn't know that it was YOU who did it. She thinks your boss has something to do with it. Which was kinda good because she didn't know where to look for them so they were safe for now. But how long until she figured out that it wasn't really her!? Ok. Ok. Calm down, Y/n. There was no evidence pointing at you, and no one knew. You only were gonna host these three for another month and two weeks. Then you'd be rid of them.

You'd be rid of them. You wouldn't have anything to worry about. Your life would be completely back to normal. And no one would know and you could just pretend this never happened. All you had to do was act casual and not arose any suspicion. It was easy if you played your cards right. Everything would be fine. Everything would be ok. Nothing else was going to happen.

"......"

"Ok. So I know this looks...bad."

"....How did you manage to get my pie pan to stick to the ceiling using just soap?!" You stared at the ceiling just above the tub where your pie pans were somehow stuck on the ceiling. With a sticky stretchy sound one metal pan slowly peeled off the ceiling and all four of you watched it splash into the water. "...HOW did you even manage to reach up there?!"

"Well..We heard that humans wash their dishes using soap and put them up to dry!," Suma happily said as you just continued staring at the other two pie pans stuck to the ceiling dumbfounded. "And we wanted to help you after everything you did! And what higher up is there than the ceiling? They'll be dry in no time!"

SPLASH!! A second pie pan fell nearly missing Hinatsuru's shoulder and disappearing into the tub. ....Yep. This logic makes perfect sense to a mermaid. But now you had three pie pans to clean and soap to wipe off your ceiling. Sigh. This really was going to be a long stay wasn't it?

********

"Y/N'S HERE!! Y/N'S HERE!!"

Suma excited splashed about before waving a full arm at you bringing a mop and bucket behind you to start cleaning up the bathroom again. You learnt a few things during the past two weeks. Mermaids thrived better in a clean environment. It was better that you drain and rinse out the tub every two days before filling it back up. And they preferred meats over plants but they'll still eat the random fruits and vegetables you left them to eat. And apparently three mermaids ate A LOT. In just three weeks, your entire few months worth of stock in the pantry was almost entirely gone. You only maybe had enough to keep feeding them the giant portions and yourself for maybe a week tops. You weren't sure if all of the money you'd been saving up for the past few years would be enough to get you that many groceries for another whole month either.

Honestly things lately have been stressful to say the least. Mrs. Henya had become a borderline stalker to your boss! She'd be across the street for hours just standing there glaring for hours on end shouting things whenever Mrs. Satoshi left or came to the shop. Shouting slurs and curses and demands to her calling her a thief. You also had a suspicion that if it wasn't for Nico and Mr. Satoshi (who were both strong, big, and very intimidating looking) she'd be harassing them too and following her home. You felt really guilty for your extremely concerned and annoyed boss, but you were also glad it wasn't you. You didn't have anyone to help scars her away if she tried anything. Luckily it seemed no one really suspected you being too angry at the current harassment so as long as you kept your head down and played it cool then you should be home free.

It was the last weekend before the next month of May arrived and you were busy spring cleaning the house again after a morning shower. So far this room was the only one left to get done and Suma seemed rather excited to see you. And you were ready to go another round of taking care of them.

"Ok you three. Bath time again! I already brought you some clean clothes to change into."

"DID YOU GET IT?!" Your answer was to smile and use your foot to push in a large basket filled to the brim with fish. So full that some of them were threatening to fall off the tall pile they were in. "KYYYAAAA!! SO YUMMY!!" She practically drooled at the sight as the other two looked on in awe.

"This should last you three the entire day. Saves me one day of pantry food at least. You three go ahead and get that soap while I clean the floor. Then I can clean out the tub again." You smiled at how cute the three looked so in awe at just some tuna and catfish.

"There's so many fish." Hinatsuru blinked. "Where'd you get all of this?"

"A friend of mine works at the butcher shop down the road. He was going to just toss these out since they need to get rid of all the fish before it goes bad, so I just offered to take it off his hands. They're not bad but they're not fresh either. I hope that's ok." You continued to nudge it closer to them until it was in arm's reach of them.

"That's fine with us. It won't cause us any harm." Hinatsuru tilted her head at you in interesting as you just continued to start mopping the floors. "This.. friend of yours. Is he courting you?"

"Oh no. He's just an old friend from school. Besides he's already in a relationship with a very nice man who works in the trading post just outside of town." You waved her off as her interested face..grew in interest watching as you dunked the mop into the bucket.

"I see." Hinatsuru exchanged a similar look with the other two before they just descended on the large basket in front of them. "What about your family? This home is rather large but you seem to be the only human living here."

You paused for a second. "....I don't really have any family. So I'm really the only one living here."

Her brows rose in interest. "Really? No one?"

You shook your head a sad frown falling over your face. "My .. parents passed away when I was really little. I have a few cousins around town, but we aren't close at all and they're busy with their own lives. So it's just always kinda been just me around here..."

A sob got you to look over your shoulder and found the familiar sight of Suma tearing up in sobs again holding a catfish she already ate the head of of. "AAAAHHH!! THAT'S SO SAD BEING ALL ALONE FOR SO LOOOOONG!!"

You smiled as Makio rolled her eyes but didn't comment on it. "I know but sometimes life is like that, and it's not all bad. I have friends around town I see a lot, and most everyone around here is really friendly." You began pushing the mop across the cold tile floor.

"Oh...No husband though?"

You shook your head ignoring the interested looks and Suma's sobs. "Not yet. But who knows? Mr. Right might be around someday."

The cleaning up was easy. Waiting for them to crawl on out to lounge on towels that you'd clean later so you could drain and rinse the soapy water from the tub was also easy. By now you were used to the routine and treated it as just a part of the temporary new routine you were doing. Every once and a while you had them use your soap to clean up and temporarily gave them a few dresses while their own was washed and then given back to them. Due to the terrible state they were in, and their messy eating habits, you'd rather have them stay clean....Sigh. At this rate you'd run out of soap and shampoo too.

"Y/n." You paused in the middle of filling up the large tub to look at Makio. She was lying on her side as Hinatsuru was running her hands alongside her tail probably looking for more loose scales as Suma ran a hand along Hina's long ponytail plucking at it with her sharpened nails in place of a comb. Makio looked confused string at you head in her hand before her other hand pointed at her head. "Why are you wearing a towel on your head?"

"Huh? Oh this?" You pointed at your head to which she nodded at. "Had a shower before coming in here. I don't know about mermaids but humans prefer to stay dry."

"Oh. I forgot about that."

You didn't have time to walk past them after finishing up but that was stopped when you were once again grabbed and yanked down by Makio making you yelp out and landing with your back harmlessly falling onto Hinatsuru's tail. Man these three were really strong. Must be because they weren't human you guessed.

"Hey. Y'know you could accidentally hurt someone by doing that!"

You grumbled but only sighed as Suma instantly hugged you tightly smooshing her cheek into your arm and in a fluid motion the towel was yanked off your head. A moment later there was a curious noise and two hands were on your head and in your hair grabbing strands of hair and pulling them gently apart. You guessed that was Makio because Hinatsuru was the one who nudged Suma off of you to grab your hand to look at your nails..and then proceeded to grab a nearby nail file (one of the few objects they asked for). You'd seen them do this behavior to each other before so it must've been some kind of familiar behavior for them you supposed. ...Eh. They weren't hurting you so you'd let them be. It's not like you had work or anything to worry about today anywa-

"HERE!!"

You jumped. Blinked. And then leaned back as the eyes of an obviously dead catfish stared at you. Held up and thrusted at you by Suma.

"You look hungry. EAT!," She happily chirped with a huge happy smile on her face nudging the raw fish closer to you.

"Oh..I uh-... I mean thanks but IIIIIII already ate! Yeah!" You nodded making Makio stubbornly grab your shoulder in warning to hold still. "I had a HUGE breakfast before I began cleaning and I'm still full-" you quickly made an excuse smiling awkwardly. "-so polite pass."

"Aaaawwww....OK! Then you can take it for lunch!"

"Oh, I really-"

"HERE!!" With a flopping motion and a huge happy smile from Suma, the fish was plopped right into your lap. You stared at it as Suma smiled widely in adoration. "See?! We can take care of you too!"

...The fish flopped onto it's side as you just stared at it. So much for the clean dress. You looked back to Suma who looked proud of herself for 'feeding' you. "..Thanks, Suma. It..looks like a really juicy fish." You'd sneak it back into their food basket later.

She happily smiled before just turning to predictably dig through the the basket again and pulled out a particularly big bass making a few fish tumble out- CLINK!! Suma paused as something that wasn't a fish tumbled out from the basket and landed just onto the floor in front of her. The hard stones making a few sounds against the tiles floor as they stopped. She froze. Blue eyes going wide at the strand of silver shiny stones staring up at her- THUD!! You once against jumped as the large fish was dropped from her hand and flopped back onto the basket. You expected Suma to cry again for dropping the fish or maybe dog around in the basket more seeing a fish she liked better..but were surprised seeing her face. It looked like she'd seen a ghost from the frozen, side eyed stars she gave.

"Suma?," you questioned as she stared at the floor. "Suma, are you alright?"

She didn't answer. Didn't react. Didn't speak. That got Hinatsuru's attention as she also confusedly looked up from your hand followed by Makio who peeled over your shoulder. Suma still didn't react...Until her bottom lip trembled. The trembling slowly spread to the rest of her body as her arms reached out ever so slowly. Blue eyes welding up with tears like you've seen her do so many times before but this time it seemed more... serious. Stones gently cracked against one another as trembling hands took them in their embrace .

"..Suma? What is it?"

"T-T-....Te-Tengen.."

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notstilinski · 7 months

Text

The Fall of the House of Usher Starters !

Taken from the Netflix 2023 series, The Fall of the House of Usher! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! There may be some light spoilers present!

“Listen, I’m sorry… For your loss. For your losses, rather.”

“Have a glass. See what a few years of your worth tastes like.”

“Don’t lecture me on family values. You’re just as shit in that department as I am.”

“The gates are always open but that doesn’t mean you answer the phone?”

“Don’t mention them ever. They don’t exist. Do you understand?”

“They will love you because I love you, and the only thing stronger than love is how fucking scared they are of getting cut out of the will.”

“All good. Right behind you.”

“You guys, we should really get together more often. It’s just a balm for the soul.”

“You know what a resolution is? It’s a deal you make with the future.”

“You’re basically 80% cum, I can fucking smell it on you.”

“Jesus, (Name), when you get going, you get going.”

“The oven mitts come off and the nail polish goes on.”

“It’s better, I promise, in the moment just before than in the moment after.”

“You are consequence, (Name). And tonight, you are consequential.”

“You are a pretty, pretty little thing.”

“Opportunity doesn’t give a fuck what you’re going through.”

“(Name), damn it, everybody knows that edible arrangements are what you send to people you hate.”

“If you start thinking this is reality, you’ll just slip into the abyss.”

“You shouldn’t be here and you don’t have to be here. That’s all I was saying.”

“It’s amazing how far you can get on denial.”

“Christ, no one knows they’re the fall guy until they’re falling.”

“Don’t complain about the drugs.”

“He throws us the food and watches us fight for it. You know that.”

“You’re not who I thought you were.”

“I didn’t want to think it but… you’re all fucking monsters.”

“Don’t have to be smart to be dangerous.”

“You gotta be smart. You have to realize, you can’t trust people. Not you. Not anyone.”

“Don’t stand there and look all hurt, you asshole! You think I don’t know?”

“Shut your mouth, get your shit together. The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Both of us lucky in one way, at least. Got good people at home who love us anyway. Let’s not let them down.”

“I trusted them, so I trusted you.”

“All of the best of (Name) without… without the broken heart.”

“You don’t have to be a tyrant, but if you don’t want to be consistently cruel, then you have to be sufficiently brutal at least once to establish authority.”

“I’m sorry. Why the fuck would you do that, sweetheart?”

“No, I’m afraid you’re ringside for my reckoning, old friend.”

“You’re a collection of impeccable, elaborate masks in orbit of a stunted heart.”

“You’re a monster, you know that?”

“Should’ve died here, honey. It would have made you an honest person.”

“You only ever wanted to be loved by them. You only ever wanted their approval. And it’s still no fucking excuse.”

“If I die, this stops?”

“Outsourcing intimacy.”

“I look at you and I see… you. The poverty of you.”

“We’re a… Virus, I think. People, I mean.”

“It’s a slap on the wrist that comes with a blowjob.”

“I say this with love. Let it go. Let it all go.”

“I knew I would climb to the top of the tower on a pile of corpses.”

“Because it don’t matter in the end why you did any of it. I don’t fucking care why you did it.”

“We don’t want your confession, or your rationale, or your explanation. So take all that with you, why don’t you.”

#rp meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #starter sentences #ask meme #ask prompts #inbox memes #inbow prompts #television sentence starters #all i can say is ... michael what the fuck #tfothou spoilers #the fall of the house of usher spoilers

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goldsainz · 8 months

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Is there a series or multiple series you're reading right now you can't wait for the next update? I need something new to read which will have me craving more parts too it

i’m assuming you mean for f1, so here:

the cat sitter (max verstappen) & it’s a match (lando norris) by @archiverstappen (smau)

our boy (lando norris/charles leclerc) (poly) by @norrisleclercf1 (written)

this whole series by @f0point5 (smau)

broken glass and honey (daniel ricciardo/max verstappen) by @slytherheign (written)

shoutout to my ex by @love-belle (smau)

deal by @golden-cherry (written)

these are just some that i could think of! there are many other great on-going series by wonderful writers out there. if any of you have any other recs, pls share 🫶

#── inbox #anon.

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saltsicklover · 8 months

Text

Open Windows - BRB - Broken House

Title: Open Windows

Series: Broken House

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2500+

Rating: R

Warnings: Drinking, Alcohol, Swearing, Low key bad talk of Navy men, Insecurity, job interviews.

The breeze blowing in through the open windows is almost cold. No one has ever said that California is cold. Sure, the nickname The Golden State comes from the gold rush and not the rays of sun that beat down heavily on the state, but it's California.

The O Club is dingier than Honey remembers, full of ancient Officers and their wives who still enjoy smoking inside and beer from lines that haven't been cleaned in so long that Honey actually grimaces when she thinks about it.

The floor is sticky. So is the chair she is sitting in. The tabletop is covered in peanut shells and damn, this place is gross. Honey puts on her best smile for the manager as she slides her resume though the peanut shells. The paper absorbs a droplet of undetermined liquid when it reaches his side of the table. Honey fights back a shudder.

The man who sits across from her seems completely disinterested in not only Honey, but his job in general. The only thing that seems to hold his attention at all is the baseball game on the television behind the bar. His eyes are trained just over Honey's shoulder. She watches as his eyes glide over the screen, taking in the way he almost mouths, his lips stopping himself halfway through his lack luster word of encouragement for the team up to bat. His tongue snakes out of his lips before he flicks it around to wet the chapped skin. Honey grits her teeth.

"Mr. Spencer," Honey leans over right into his line of sight, a kind but annoyed smile on her face, "Thank you for taking the time to see me. Please hold onto my resume and give me a call once you've looked it over. I need to head to my next appointment. Thank you again for your time."

The man waves a hand and gives her a noncommittal grunt as she stands up. She manages a tight lipped smile before heading for the front door. It's not worth it, she reminds herself as she pushes out into the chilled evening air.

The dejected feeling she has been pushing down for the last three weeks seems to engross her, bogging her down like wet boots. It should weigh heavy on her shoulders but the only thing she can seem to feel is a broody sense of determination. The O Club is the fourth place she has been since nine am, and her luck doesn't seem to be improving. She is slowly exhausting all the locations that came up on her navigation app under the "BAR" tab. She scrolls back up to the top of the list, clicking on the first hit to come up. The Hard Deck. It is just a bit too close to the Air Base, but desperate times and all that. So, she throws her car into drive and heads towards base, and unknowingly towards her future.

---

The warmth that overtakes Honey as she walks into the Hard Deck makes her skin tingle. The cold evaporates from her skin, her goosebumps easing with each step she takes towards the bar top.

The Hard Deck is busy, bodies bumping bodies as they make their way through the crowd. Honey pulls her blazer from her shoulders, letting the fabric slide down her arms as she scootches herself around a large man in a Marines uniform. He mutters an apology to her as his forearm grazes against her shoulder, the beer in his hand sloshing around in the glass. She offers a tight lipped smile.

The folks behind the bar are busy, a flurry of hands and glasses, liquor and tap. They each have sweat droplets peppered across their brows, their forearms coming up to dry them off. The effort is fruitless as the sweat returns.

Honey slides herself up onto an open bar seat between a woman who is unsuccessfully flirting with a man who has a tragically overgrown undercut and a man who is engrosses in the baseball game that is playing from his phone. Honey throws her blazer across the back of her chair, hanging her purse up along with it.

The dejected feeling begins to crawl back in.

"You're a little overdressed, aren't you, Babe?" The woman on the other side of the bar notes as she shakes a shaker near her ear. Her voice is a tad louder than necessary but her words are kind, so Honey manages a smile, genuinely.

"Can't seem to win today it seems," Honey shoots back with a shrug of her shoulders, "Not a damn bar in this city is hiring,"

"What's your name, Babe?" The woman asks, brushing her bright red bangs from her eyes with one hand as she pours a drink with the other.

"Y/N, but everyone calls me Honey," The bartender nods back, sending a drink down the bar.

"Penny! We've got a live one!" The redhead calls down the bar before nodding back towards Honey. An older woman glances towards the redhead before her eyes land on Honey.

"You're looking for a job? Bartender?" The woman, Penny, asks, pulling down on the Budweiser tap. The honey liquid flows into the glass, foamy and cold.

"Sure am!" Her voice is slightly too giddy for the expression on her face. She pulls a folded up resume from her pocket, the paper now crinkled and less than presentable. Honey slides it across the bar with one manicured hand. It slides across the clean bar top with ease. The redhead takes a look at it before giving Penny a quick thumbs up just below the bar near her hip. She thinks Honey doesn't see it, but she catches it.

Penny shuffles over and trades places with the redhead. She places a bottle of house vodka and an empty glass in front of Honey with a small smirk on her face.

"Alright then, Honey Girl, can you pour me two ounces of this, no jigger?" Penny asks sweetly, before she is back to pouring another glass of beer on tap.

Honey stands up on the bar of the stool, allowing herself to lean over the edge of the bar to grab a rag that has been abandoned on the other side. She steals a pump of hand sanitizer from next to the register before she wipes the bottle down with the towel. Then, Honey moves to the floor, pushing the stool back behind her. She takes the house vodka by the neck of the bottle, label facing Penny. Turning it over, Honey counts out two ounces. She then places the bottle on the rubber mat on the serving side of the bar, offering the double shot in the whiskey glass to Penny.

Penny takes it and pours the contents into a jigger, measuring out the liquid. It comes out right at two ounces and Penny tries her best to hide the smile that is beginning to stretch across her lips. She isn't ready to give Honey the job just yet...

"Can you tell me what is in a Tequila Sunrise?" Penny quirks an eyebrow before throwing back the Vodka that Honey poured just moments before.

"Two ounces tequila, four ounces fresh orange juice, a quarter ounce grenadine, garnishes with an orange slice and a cherry," Honey raddles off the recipe, counting the ingredients out on her fingers. The counting makes Penny chuckles a bit, and Honey just smirks at her, "Hard to do it without actually pouring the drink. It's basically muscle memory,"

The women behind the bar share a devious smile. Penny shoots Honey a look laced with scheme.

"Come on back here and make me a Cosmopolitan, would you Honey Girl?"

Honey places her hands on the bar, leaning forward to turn her head right then left, surveying the drinks in everyone's hands with furrowed brows. Then, she turns around, standing up on her tiptoes, looking around the room. She turns back to Penny with a smirk.

"Do these military folks even drink stuff like that?" There is a glimmer in her eye, one that Penny can't help but love already.

"Nope," She pops the 'P'.

"Okay Penny, I'll make you your drink," Honey winks before winding though the crowd to make her way behind the bar. She rolls the sleeves of her crisp white button up all the way up above her elbows before making a pitstop at the sink to scrub her hands. Then, Honey gets to pouring. First the juices, then the liquors, shaking then straining, the drink coming out pretty pink in a martini glass.

Honey steps back, revealing the drink to Penny like a magician might reveal a woman sawed in half. There is a flick of the wrist and a dramatic bow that makes Penny laugh out loud. The older woman steps forward and takes a drink of the pretty pink cocktail, an instant smile on her lips the moment the drink hits her tongue.

"Are you Military officiated?" Honey shakes her head no, a slight purse to her lips. She knows it isn't quite true, but she doesn't need to air her dirty laundry in the middle of this makeshift job interview.

Her hands are clasped in front of her as she rocks on her feet. Heel toe, heel toe. Honey wants nothing more than to spill her guts to the seemingly friendly staff at the Hard Deck. She wants to tell about her father, and what a shitty man he is for abandoning her and her mother. She wants to explain how she ended up in this little bar anyway, and everything she has left behind over the years, chasing his ghost. But most of all, Honey wants to talk about Bradley. She wants to talk about the storm in his eyes and the way he spoke so angrily to her. She wants to lament to these women in the way she couldn't with Bradley. She wants nothing more than to speak of the life she left behind, but she doesn't. Instead, she bounces on her feet. Heel toe, heel toe.

"Are you dating anyone in the Military?" There is a bit of humor to her voice but Honey can't help the drop her stomach takes- it falls so far she feel for a moment that she might never see it again, but then the nausea hits.

Honey can still hear the door slamming. She can still feel the way her fingertips used to gently adjust the frame next to the door. She can still see Bradley coming in drunk, over the shoulder of one of his friends. Bradley, Jake Seresin, and Natasha Trace all got sent to Pensacola and their little trio could drink that town dry if they really wanted to, and they did just that a time or two.

The photograph of Nick and Bradley has faded to the back of her mind now, but she swears she can still see Nick's eyes when she closes her eyes. She can hear the words Bradley screamed at her, and the tightness of his throat as he did. Her own words haunt her harder, deeper, like they are melting away her insides.

Bradley Bradshaw is the furthest thing from Pete Mitchell in her mind. He would never abandon his family, that much she knows. Honey has seen him with Jake and Natasha, knows how he cares for them, and how much love he has for not only them but his team. She has watched him pour from his cup more times than anyone else, making sur that those he cares for are loved and that they know it.

Maybe that's why it hurt so much; having thing end the way that they did leaves Honey feeling the furthest thing from okay.

"No," Honey answers simply.

"Good on you, Honey Girl," Penny sends her a wink, "I can't say the same for me, but I have seen so many relationships between these guys and their significant other's go sideways-"

Honey stops listening to Penny, too focused on the glinting diamond on her left hand. The diamond is large, and absolutely sparkling even under the amber lights of the bar. Honey blinks back tears as she looks at it, memories of Bradley flashing through her mind.

Honey wants to ask Penny if she had ever had a fight quite so bad with her own husband. If being with a Navy man is always so hard or if Bradley just decided to make it that way. Is it all circumstance or does it come with time in? Maybe the it's issued to them with their gear, but it doesn't quite matter how it got there, the matter of the fact is that it's there.

Somehow, Honey thinks maybe Penny knows exactly what she is feeling, and though Honey was the one to walk out the door, it feels like Bradley was the one to walk away.

When her eyes make their way back up to Penny, she is standing there expectantly, eyebrows raised.

"I'm sorry Penny, what was that?"

"I said, the job is yours if you want it! We have a big welcome back party scheduled for a week from Friday, and I want you here and ready for it. My husband's team is getting recalled and they are going to be very excited to see each other. Can you start tomorrow?"

Penny has already begun digging through a cupboard below the bar, her hands working just as fast as her lips.

"I'll be here, Penny, thank you so much!" Honey's gratitude is met with a balled up shirt straight to the chest. She catches it before it drops to the floor, and Penny chuckles at the rapid movement.

"Great, then I will see you tomorrow, now get on the other side of my bar!" She shoos the younger woman with her hands, offering her a smile, "And Honey Girl, welcome to the team,"

Honey leaves the bar with a sense of accomplishment she didn't know she could feel. The wet boot feeling in her soul is gone, now relaced with a sense of excitement for what's to come. There is still a part of her brain replaying all of the times the door slammed and the way Bradley would stumble into her arms. Nestled next to those memories is the image of Pete Mitchell with his arm wrapped tightly around Bradley, and Honey blames the nausea that swims deep within her body on that memory.

There is so much going on in Honey's mind that she walks straight to her vehicle, not bothering to spare a glance away from her path. Once she climbs inside her car she takes a look at the t-shirt in her hand, the Hard Deck logo on the left chest, the word, "Bartender" is printed across the shoulders. Honey smiles, so distracted from the joy and excitement that she doesn't even notice the familiar blue Bronco parked just a few spaces away.

Honey drives back to her shitty new rental with the windows of her car down. The chilled breeze blows in, messing her hair, causing gooseflesh to break out over her skin. No one ever said that California is cold, but it's about as far away from Bradley Bradshaw that Honey can get, so she shivers and enjoys it.

#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley rooster bradshaw angst #broken house #top gun maverick imagine

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