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atrwriting · 10 months

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more, more, more — carmy x reader

carmen berzatto x coworker!reader

listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.

i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.

as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed

also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off

barely edited we die like men

i stole that joke don’t come for me

anyway....

you didn’t really know how it happened.

you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.

natalie berzatto.

her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.

unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.

carmen.

fucking carmen.

while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.

however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.

when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.

the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.

carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.

you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?

carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home

so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.

you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.

so you knocked.

and barely waited.

carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.

“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.

he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”

“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”

he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”

you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”

“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”

you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”

one drink definitely did not hurt.

drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.

how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.

“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”

“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”

you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”

“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”

“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”

“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”

you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”

“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.

he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.

you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.

“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”

“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”

“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”

“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”

he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”

“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”

there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.

you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.

you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.

however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.

and he did nothing.

so you could do nothing.

you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.

you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.

like they had with the glass, moments ago.

you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.

when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”

“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”

you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.

“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”

his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”

you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.

carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.

“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”

“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”

you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.

“fuck.”

with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.

the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.

“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.

you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.

“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”

“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”

you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.

it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.

what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.

in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.

he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.

and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.

he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.

“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.

he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.

“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”

he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.

“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”

“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”

“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.

“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.

his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.

“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.

“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”

he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”

heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.

“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.

carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.

“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”

carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.

“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”

“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”

“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“

“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”

“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”

“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”

that broke you.

that fucking broke you.

it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.

with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”

it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.

“pretty girl.”

“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”

“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”

once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.

“greedy.”

you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”

he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”

you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.

carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.

“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”

he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”

you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.

but when he spoke, you froze.

“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”

you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.

“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.

you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.

“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”

“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?

you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.

“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.

“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”

both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.

the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.

carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.

“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”

“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”

“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.

“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.

your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.

“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”

“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”

“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”

fuck.

that set him off.

carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?

fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.

carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.

it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.

“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.

there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.

the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.

“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.

the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.

“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.

you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”

“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.

you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.

“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”

he pressed his thumb against your clit.

you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.

“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”

he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.

but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.

“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“

“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.

“gonna give me what i want?”

“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”

“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”

your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.

white. pure white.

your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.

still rubbing those fucking circles.

“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”

“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”

your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.

“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”

his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.

“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”

you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.

you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.

against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”

“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.

“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“

“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.

carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.

“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”

your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”

he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."

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lmk what you think :) love yall -L

#carmy smut #carmy berzatto #carmy #carmen #carmen berzatto #carm berzatto #carm smut #carmen smut #the bear #bear #carmy bear berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmen x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you

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bloompompom · 2 months

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LOVER BOY | MINI SERIES

in which eren falls hard for you, his friend-with-benefits who insists she isn't looking for anything serious

PART ONE - all that glitters

⟡ content: eren jaeger x female reader, good old-fashioned college au, fwb-to-lovers, mutual pining/idiots in love, cheesy rom-com, smut fic with feelings, fluff, angst, sexual content, explicit language, alcohol, drunk sex. reader discretion advised. 18+ ⟡ word count: ~3k ⟡ masterlist (1/4) ⟡ a/n: writing has been a struggle but this came to me in a vision. i needed something easy and fun to get me back in the swing of things. enjoy ♡

“Eren.”

You whined his name in that signature drunken way, with the last syllable drawn out and pronounced like a plea—as if pleading with him was ever necessary.

“What’re you doing right now?” you asked. “D’you wanna fuck?”

No, not really. But Eren would make sure you made it back to your dorm room alive and as well as one could be after too many drinks. Still, he couldn’t deny how the back of his neck warmed at the offer.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Where are you at?”

After the call ended, it was only a matter of seconds before his friends predictably started heckling him.

Connie hung his headset around his neck, shooting Eren this too-knowing look when he asked, “Lemme guess who that was.”

“How about you don’t?” Despite Eren’s flat affect, his words had a biting edge. He kept his head down as he shrugged his jacket over his shoulders.

This wasn’t the first time Connie broached the subject, also known as you. Although it proved to be a sore spot for Eren, Connie didn’t plan to stop poking any time soon.

“Dude, she’s got you pussy-whipped,” he barked, “with a capital P, dude.”

“You said ‘dude’ twice,” Eren groused, hoping that would be the end of it. When the baiting look on Connie’s face didn’t let up, Eren felt compelled to defend himself. “I’m not pussy-whipped. She’s at a party and needs someone to walk her home.”

Connie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.”

Lounged on his bottom bunk, Jean glanced from his phone screen to Eren. “You know, these sorts of arrangements—friends-with-benefits, fuck buddies, whatever weird thing you two have going on—they don’t normally end well.”

Jean said it smartly, in that been-there-done-that way as if his longest relationship wasn’t with his right hand. Before Eren could call him out on it, Connie jumped in on the dog pile.

“And last time I checked, they don’t involve catching feelings,” he asserted, thinking he'd added something meaningful to the conversation.

“I didn’t catch feelings,” Eren refuted.

“Then tell me straight up you’re going over there for pussy and not because you think she’s magically going to wake up one morning and want to have a serious, exclusive relationship with you after literal months of saying otherwise.”

Ouch.

“It is exclusive,” Eren corrected, though his delivery was a bit shaky. “I mean, I’m not sleeping around.”

“Well, duh. But is she?”

Eren realized he had no idea if you were sleeping with anyone else. Why was he so quick to assume you had been faithfully fucking him? That wasn’t in the terms of your agreement.

Regardless of what (or who) you did when he wasn’t around, you called him tonight over anyone else. That had to mean something, right? At the very least, it meant the decency of giving him a heads-up if you were fucking someone else, he liked to think.

“I don’t think so,” Eren said. “She hasn’t mentioned anyone, and I’m sure she’d tell me if—”

Connie guffawed. “God, you are down so fucking bad. Just admit it to yourself.”

Eren had already done that a long time ago but they didn’t need to know that. Truthfully, they didn’t need to know anything about you, yet all three of his roommates managed to acquaint themselves with you despite never having met.

Eren tried to keep his fling with you under wraps—not for any special reason other than it was none of his friends’ business. But if he thought he was being sneaky, then he was doing a shit job at it because his friends caught on fast. After they spotted a poorly-hidden hickey, it didn’t take much to pull the dirty secret from him.

But it wasn’t really that dirty of a secret, was it? They understood it; why would he stick around and play video games with them when he could be getting his dick sucked? What they didn’t understand was why he continued doting on you like he was your boyfriend—no, like he was your puppy, loyal and entirely dedicated to you while maintaining that it was nothing more than casual sex.

Fat fucking chance. They would never believe such a thing. They knew Eren better than that. They knew he wasn’t meant for casual.

Eren bristled but held his tongue. Connie was right, and whatever bullshit Eren could spout wouldn’t be worth the breath; they’d never believe him.

If only he’d kept his mouth shut in the first place. At least then he wouldn’t need to dread this collective ‘I told you so!’ from friends who were all too eager to say it.

Lest he wished for this to devolve into the world’s shittiest intervention, Eren left without another word—not even a ‘goodbye’ in reply to Armin, ever the diplomat, hiding out on his top bunk until he deemed it safe. Unfortunately for Eren, his silence (and the slammed door) spoke louder than anything he could have said.

You’d sent Eren your location because you didn’t have half a mind to explain your whereabouts. Not to mention, the streets back on Fraternity Row were old and cobbled and poorly lit. You were a few blocks over from Eren, only a five-minute walk. Four, if he picked up his pace.

Had it really been months since this whole thing started?

You and Eren were introduced under more formal circumstances. He couldn’t confidently say you would have met if not for your professor’s intervention. She randomly assigned partners for the final project, stating everyone needed to ‘branch out'—as if they needed another freshman orientation course. Looking back now, Eren could appreciate the icebreaker.

That was in November. He met with you on a Friday only to spend the rest of the weekend with you on his mind. He remembered it well. For good reason, too; he’d never made out in a library before.

Neither had you, apparently. That was what you told him, whispered between giggles as you rose from your chair. You knew you were up to no good as you slipped into his lap, and you wore a glittery smile to match.

Eren’s conscience told him otherwise, but the more bestial part of his brain had already justified it with boyishly sound reasoning as to why it was perfectly okay.

First off, the two of you were tucked away in a secluded corner, hidden behind bookshelves blanketed in dust older than his college career. He hadn’t heard so much as a footstep the entire hour he’d spent here.

Secondly, who would come to the library this late on a Friday anyway?

It made for quite the compelling argument, outside of the fact that he himself was one of those Friday night library goers.

Eren couldn’t explain how you ended up there, astride his lap with his bottom lip sucked swollen and drawn between your teeth, other than stating the obvious: the attraction between you was instantaneous and the conditions were just right. The literature was just horrifically boring enough; the tension between you was palpable, nibbled away at bit by bit like a mouse gnawing on a cord. Accidental touches, as chaste as a hand brushed against his, became deliberate and lasted longer than the last. You would sit close, then closer, and move in a way that Eren would catch thin whiffs of your perfume, a sweet scent at the tip of his nose but warm in the pit of his stomach.

And like a cord, you risked a fateful snap: the moment you’d realize you were far more interested in each other than any ten-point word on the page—when you’d agree to leave the project abandoned on the table and let it fade into insignificance.

Eren didn’t know the last time someone made his heart beat that hard, if ever. Hard enough that he remembered worrying you’d feel it. Of course, it could have been from the thrill, but he had to admit you left him feeling completely caught off guard. He wasn’t sure if the feeling ever truly went away.

Exactly one week later, he discovered you had some friends-of-a-friend in common after bumping into each other at a house party. You approached him, eyes half-lidded, pupils dilated, but your smile as glittery as he remembered. You introduced him to a few girls, laying a hand on his arm as you said, “This is the project partner I was telling you about.” It flattered Eren to know you'd mentioned him, but more than that, it told him that you’d been thinking about him, too.

You brought him back to your room that night. It was the obvious choice between the suite Eren shared with three other guys or the single you miraculously snagged.

It was fun—and Eren knew how it sounded when he said that. ‘Fun’ wasn’t the first word that came to mind when he thought about having drunk sex with a near stranger. Fumbling and awkward, yes. But fun? Not so much.

Yet with you, it was.

The pressure he put on himself melted away at the touch of your hand. Maybe that was the moment, if he had to name one, when he first felt something. Something that ran deeper than a hormone-induced make-out session in the library and deeper than any one-night stand. All you had to do was be you. The drunk version of you—of both of you—but still you, nonetheless.

You kissed him not on your half-lofted bed but you were on your way there. Eren had your back pressed against it before breaking the kiss to take off your shirt. You helped him with his next.

Your hands immediately flew to his stomach, palming over the muscles in a way Eren wouldn’t describe as sexual—more like you were impressed.

“Whoa,” you remarked with a sort of wonder he didn’t expect. You squeezed his bicep next and then glanced down at your own. “Do you think I can get those?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you my gym routine,” Eren laughed. Though he supposed he didn’t really have a routine, he just went to blow off steam.

He pulled you into him, snuffing out your giggles with a kiss.

Confessedly, he came fast—not that fast, but quicker than he would have preferred. But he liked to think he made up for it, fingering and eating you until he was hard again and could go for round two. You sure seemed to like it.

When it was all said and done, Eren lay there and imagined falling asleep at your side, while you were already hopping out of bed.

Ugh. Putting it like that made him sound like a girl.

You exchanged numbers before parting ways, and he dedicated another weekend to you, this time planning his text to ask you on a date. He took so long that you reached out first, sending what you called your fuck it! text, both figuratively and literally—you cheekily threw that into the message, too.

When Eren agreed to ‘just sex, nothing else,’ he thought it was making the obvious choice. What idiot would say no to that? It sounded like the college dream, and that was what it was supposed to be, up until it wasn’t.

From then on, the time you should have spent working on your project, you spent fucking. Shameful but true. It was probably the reason you received a C. As it turned out, humans don’t retain much information when attempting to read aloud while another went down on them. Maybe the two of you should have done your project on that instead.

It was nearly spring now. The soggy beginning of the season as winter finally began to melt away. The night was rain-soaked. Eren could smell the remnants of the downpour on the asphalt as he walked against the breeze, chilly enough for him to hide his hands in his jacket pockets.

He approached the bustling house to find you sitting alone on the stoop, legs bent at the knee and a bit knobbled. He called out for you and watched a gigantic smile capture your face. The sight made his chest tighten.

Eren held out his hands for you to take and tugged you to your feet.

“Where are your friends?” he asked you.

“I dunno,” you absently said.

You passed him as you crossed the lawn. When you reached the sidewalk, you spun on your heels to see if Eren was following. He was.

“Don’t worry, I texted them that I was leaving.” You started to laugh. “Told them I had a booty call.”

“A booty call?” Eren pretended you wounded him, clasping a hand over his chest. “Is that all I am to you? And here I was thinking we were friends.”

You giggled as you kept your attention on steadying your stride. A bumpy sidewalk plus a few drinks past your limit didn’t make for a coordinated combination. Your arm brushed against Eren’s every few steps.

“Seriously though,” he started to say. “Shouldn’t your friends be the ones to get you home?”

“You are my friend.” You beamed up at him, eyes heavy but happy. “You said so yourself.”

He smiled back at you, genuine but closed-mouth, and didn’t flinch as your cold hand nudged a path into his for warmth.

He guided you into your residence hall and joined your elevator ride up to the eighth floor. He walked you down the left wing to the room at the very end of the hallway and swiped your student ID to unlock the door. He reached to flip the light switch but found it was already on.

“You left the light on,” Eren commented, closing the door as he followed you inside.

Your dorm was no larger than any other, but it sure felt like it with just one bed, tucked into the corner and still unmade from this morning. Your desk sat opposite it, with a window on the back wall dividing the two. The last time Eren saw your desk, he had you on it. By now, the clutter had been put back in its rightful place—a few loose papers and your open laptop—and doubled as a makeshift vanity with your tabletop mirror.

You hummed blithely before nearing him in a few steps. You went to kiss him, even had your hands on either side of his face, but you only caught the corner of his mouth. He took you by the shoulders and held you at arm’s length. Even from there, your breath reeked of vodka.

“You need to get some sleep,” he told you.

“I will,” you purred. “After—”

You shook free of his hands and peeled off your shirt, faltering slightly in the process. You tried to kiss him again, thinking your bare chest would surely tempt him.

When Eren didn’t budge, you pouted, “You tricked me.”

“Tricked is a pretty harsh word, don’t you think?”

Eren grabbed the t-shirt draped on your desk chair and plunged it over your head before he started to stare for too long. You scrambled to sort out its sleeves.

“So you came all this way just to tuck me in?” Your head popped through the neck hole to reveal your frown. “You’re not even going to have sex with me?”

“That’s right.”

You shimmied your jeans down your legs, glaring up at him. “You’re so boring.”

“I know,” he airily replied. He ticked his head. “Bed.”

You were drunk enough to listen obediently but kept your frown as you shuffled into your bed. As you crawled beneath the blankets, you watched Eren take a water bottle from your mini fridge and set it on your bedside cubby. Before his hand was out of reach, you lightly wrapped a hand around his wrist.

You intertwined your fingers with his, sweeping yours up and down the length of each. “You’re at least going to kiss me good night, right?”

You were always so touchy-feely when you drank.

Eren held his breath. His eyes followed as you pressed your palm against his, compared their sizes, and played with his fingers. It almost felt like you were pulling at something much deeper in him. A puppet and his puppeteer.

He knew what he wanted to do, but his friends’ words resounded in the forefront of his mind, listing the exact reasons why this was a bad idea. Then he went and did it anyway.

Eren leaned in to kiss you, not on your lips but sealed against your forehead. With his hand cradling your cheek to hold you there for that one, long second.

It wasn’t the kiss you wanted, but even so, you stared up at him in drunken awe. Softly, and with a softer smile, you told him, “Thank you for walking me back.” You nuzzled deeper into the bed, closing your eyes as you rambled, “You’re so nice, Eren. Didya know that?”

“I’ll be sure to remind you of that the next time you call me mean,” he teased before turning to leave.

You piped up again. Your voice was already sleepier than just a second ago, sounding smushed against your pillow as you murmured, “If I’m not married by forty, and you’re not married by forty, can we get married?”

He gave a tiny laugh through his nose. You were cute, weren’t you? He knew you wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. Or if you did, you’d profusely (and needlessly) apologize for it.

“You’ll be married by forty. You don’t have to worry about that,” Eren said, half-way out the door.

You responded with nothing more than a satisfied sound, drifting to sleep as quickly as Eren expected.

The heavy lock clicked behind him, but Eren gave it a final jiggle to ensure it. He heaved a sigh, leaning back against your door with a thud you thankfully wouldn’t hear.

This was a huge mistake, wasn’t it?

masterlist | next part

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren fluff #aot x reader

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samkerrworshipper · 7 months

Note

Hi how have you been?💗 Would you maybe consider writing some angst for Alexia/Barcelona x reader where like maps and Ingrid start start to notice reader getting thinner and eating less but Alexia is so wrapped up in media and stuff that she doesn’t notice until reader faints at training. Then Mapi shouts at alexia and there’s some angst but it has a softer ending? ❤️

i remember everything.

alexia putellas x reader

warnings: eating disorders, pain n angst with a softer ending.

“Ale we’re losing her.”

Alexia hated a lot of things, winter, bad drivers, the colour orange, the Spanish federation, France, patchy makeup and cherry flavoured candy. The thing at the very top of her list though, was people telling her what to do. Alexia was the best player in the world, she was a force to be reckoned with, she did not need people telling her what to do with her life or relationships.

“Maria, she’s my fucking fiance, I would know if something was wrong with her, this is none of your business.”

Alexia was typing furiously at her phone, something that she seemed to always be doing lately. If you were lucky enough to catch her time for a few minutes, chances were her attention would end up being caught by replying to some email or text from her agent and manager. It was never ending, and anybody who had been a part of Alexia’s life before and after her had seen just how much her life had changed in the past two years. In this instance, Mapi and Alexia were out for drinks, trying to catch up but it was proving to be impossible with most of Alexia’s attention on whatever it was she was replying to this time.

“This is what I’m talking about, you don’t have enough time to talk face to face with your best friend, how does that prove to me that you have enough time to look out for your girlfriend?”

Alexia’s eyes rose from her phone, her fingers pausing.

“Maps, I know my fiance, I’d know if she had a eating disorder, I’d know if she was struggling, I lie in bed with her every night, I wake up with her every morning, I train with her everyday, I know her.”

Mapi’s eyebrow rose up at her forehead, it was weird for Alexia to meet her gaze, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“When was the last time she was sick? When was the last time she burnt something in your kitchen? When was the last time your dog ran away? You wouldn’t know because every time those things have happened in the last few months she’s called me, because you’ve been out of town. You're busy, we all understand it, not everybody can be La Reina, not everyone is you, but not everybody is your fiance. Her smile that normally lights up the room, it’s not there anymore, nothing about her is the same anymore, and I’ll be damned if she dies on your watch because you are being too insolent to acknowledge it.”

Mapi stood up from her seat at the bar, downing the rest of her dirty martini and giving Alexia a final parting frown.

“Go home to your fiance and actually look at her, eye to eye, lover to lover, and try and tell yourself that she is fine.”

Mapi exited the bar, disgruntled by her failed attempt at an intervention with Alexia, the slightly older woman simply didn’t want to listen to her and what was Mapi supposed to do about that? Alexia was stubborn and bullheaded, but she was like Mapi’s sister, she was Mapi’s blood, more than anybody else. Mapi had no idea where she’d be without Alexia, possibly dead in a ditch somewhere. Alexia had been the fristr person to haul her out of bed on a bad day, drag her out of clubs when she was so drunk she couldn’t see straight, Alexia was tough love, she forced Mapi to live until Mapi herself wanted to live. Mapi was more than grateful, but she also wasn’t going to let the love of Alexia’s life slowly kill herself because Alexia was too consumed with her own career to even realise.

The drive home for Alexia was slow and stressful in a way she’d never experienced. Alexia in her heart wanted to believe Mapi was wrong, because how could she be right? Alexia saw you everyday, she knew you better than anybody else, and she hadn’t noticed any of the things that Mapi had been talking about.

When Alexia does get home it’s to a silent house with no lights on, something thats fairly regular for her, considering the abnormal hours she normally egts home at. She leaves her keys and coat at the front door, reaches down to pet Nala who she must have woken up because the fluff ball has major bedhead. Alexia pours herself a glass of water from the tap before cautiously making her way into your bedroom. When she does finally make it to the door it’s hanging open, you sat on the bed, the lamp being the only source of lighting whilst you read from underneath it. You look so peaceful, so perfect, that Alexia considers leaving, sleeping on the couch. But she’s too angry, too consumed with her feelings, too emotional to take into account how much her actions affect you. She figures that in the last few months she’s probably drifted from you more than she's come close, which is probably concerning considering that the months leading up to a wedding you are supposed to be in premarital bliss.

“You didn’t have to wait up.”

Alexia’s voice is even, she moves into your shared wardrobe, pulling off her slacks and crop top and searching for a pair of her pyjamas.

“How was your day?”

You sound so hopeful, so curious. This is the only time of day msot weeks that you get to talk to Alexia and when it’s not too late you try your hardest to stay awake, hopeful tat maybe this time Alexia will return your eagerness.

“Fine.”

Alexia finally finds her pyjama shirt and shorts and changes into them quickly before moving back inot the bedroom.

“O-kay, how are you, how was Mapi?”

There’s so much hope in your voice, something that Alexia hates. She lets her eyes roam your body quickly, discreetly, not in a way that would make you think she was trying to start anything. She doesn’t see anything different. She doesn’t notice the fact that you no longer wear short sleeves or cropped shirts anymore. She doesn’t notice that your ribs now jut out from your skin, instead of being covered by a healthy amount of skin and fat, how could she? She doesn’t notice the patches across your scalp that are now missing hair, she doesn’t know that you no longer get your period, she doesn’t notice that your nails are now brittle and crusty, something that you’ve come to hate about yourself, just another dot point on the list of things that you detest about your body.

“Good.”

Alexia’s one word answer hurt your soul, more than Alexia ever had.

“If you don’t want to talk you can just say that.”

Alexia doesn’t slip under the covers like she’d planned to, instead her jaw clenches and hardens, a defence mechanism of hers that you’d never manage to crack.

“What are you talking about, we’re talking, I’m just tired.”

Your face falls at her snap, your eyes falling back to your book and marking your page before dropping it down on your bedside table, a little huff leaving your lips as your eyes drift upwards to meet Alexias.

“Alright, you must be absolutely exhausted every single time we talk then.”

It’s bold, especially considering that Alexia seems to be in a completely rotten mood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, because this is all she does and your becoming sick of it.

“Oh my god, I don’t come home every night just for you to make it seem like I’m a shitty girlfriend.”

It’s so Alexia, so Alexia to always somehow make herself the victim, somehow make it you who is the one in the wrong.

“Are you joking? You didn’t agree to come home to our house?”

Alexia moves herself further away from the bed, to the very edge, her eyes and jaw just as stubborn as each other.

“What do you want me to say? I’m tired, I want to sleep, not listen to you whine about whatever your fucking whining about, I’ve been in interviews all day and all I wanted to do was come home and sleep.”

Alexia was always in interviews, always doing something that was your fault, it wasn’t your responsibility to sort out her calendar, or to make her less of a good football player, it just happened to be the way the cookie crumbled.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I just had a really fucking bad qweek and I wanted to talk to you about it, because your supposed to be the fucking person I can talk to, but it’s fine, we can talk tomorrow, or next week, or next year, whenever your not tired.”

Alexia exhales, Mapi’s voice plays through her head, this is her in, this is her opportunity to not be such a fucking jackass.

“No, tell me about it.”

Anything you wanted to say, you swallow, it’s a hard job, but your suddenly so scared of Alexia, so scared that she’ll see you the same way you do, she’s never around to reassure you that you’re enough for her, and you honestly don’t feel like you are anymore.

“It’s fine, honestly sleep.”

You peel back the covers beside you, but Alexia stays still on the other end of the bed, just looking at you.

“You obviously want me to ask about it or you never would have brought it up.”

Alexia knows that it’s a dickhead move, but she’s at her wits end, she’s tired and your beginning to piss her off.

“Why do you make it seem like talking to me is a chore?”

Alexia has a schedule, and she figures sometimes talking with you is a chore, because Alexia doesn’t have time, some days talking to you is just another box for her to tick.

“How many times do I have to say that I’m fucking tired before you udnerstand?”

Alexia’s tone is so harsh, so angry, a tone she long ago promised herself she’d never use with you, ever. But right now every single rule she has for herself is being broken and when tears spring to the corners of your eyes she can’t help but feel guilty.

“If you’re so tired, go to sleep, I’ve told you that already, you’re starting an argument for no reason.”

Alexia cocks her head, trying to absorb what you’ve just said to her.

“Yeah, okay, whatever, I don’t want you fucking talking to me for the rest of the night though.”

Alexia never used to swear around you, or at you, but the part of her that was once so sweet and gentle with you is now gone, long forgotten under the facade that has become La Reina.

“Okay, I love you.”

It’s Alexia’s last chance, her last opportunity for redemption. You give her a few seconds, and when you get nothing in return your heart shatters.

“Please say it back Ale.”

Alexia’s face is emotionless, absolutely devoid of anything that made Alexia, Alexia. It reminds you as to why you are so scared to let people in, because of the damage they can do and the damage they can find. Alexia no longer seems concerned about any of those things, only concerned about herself.

“Alexia.”

She slips under the covers beside you, but her body and face is stock still, so stubborn, so hurt, so fucked up. It’s the final straw for you.

You pull the sheets away from your body, wrenching yourself up and out of the covers, tears streaming down your face as you rush into your wardrobe, pulling out whatever clothes are within arms reach and stuffing them into a bag.

When you emerge Alexia is looking equal parts concerned and shocked.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

In the moment, all you want is to be loved, feel loved, and it’s clear Alexia isn’t prepared to do any of those things.

“You need rest, I don't think either of us are going to get it whilst the other is in the house, I’m going to stay with Mapi for a few nights. When your ready to love me I’ll be there.”

With that you leave the bedroom, pick up your keys and drive into the darkness of the middle of the night, tears flowing freely down your face as the bleary night lights of Barcelona pass by.

It took every single bit of energy left in you to make it up the stairs of Mapi and Ingrid’s house, your knuckles pounding against their door until it swung open, to reveal Mapi and Ingrid, both looking like they’d just crawled out of bed and equally as shocked as each other.

It was then that you broke down, fat, big tears streaming down your face and sobs falling easily from your lips.

“I love her.”

There’s a silence so loud between the three of us as Mapi pulls you into a hug, Ingrid closing the door behind you and the two of them helping you into their house, pulling you into their bed and bringing you into a big hug. All you can do is focus on your breathing, in out, in out. Your hands tears at the broken skin and nails, you can’t manage to meet either of the womens eyes as you cry in their arms, they don’t seem to mind, they only tighten their grip on you.

“It’s okay hermosa, we’ve got you, we won't let go.”

You can’t do much more than cry, you're grieving your life, grieving your lover, grieving everything that you’d just lost in a matter of minutes. Your hearts torn to shreds, undecided about whether or not to let Alexia hold onto a breaking thread and risk the plummet. She’s given you absolutely nothing, no hope, no faith, no love and yet there she goes. She’s let you go. You're only feeling some of it, you know that there is going to be a day, not far away, where you're going to have to see her at training, laughing and smiling with your teammates, people who she’s loving through everything. You're losing her. You lost a version of her that was once so caring, who gave the warmest hugs. You’ve lost your 2 am conversations and your forever and always. You lost the person you’d promised you’d stay around till the very end with, if she hadn’t pushed you away, if she hadn't just loved you none of it would have happened. Alexia Putellas Segura was never yours to have though it seemed, she was for everyone else, the fans, the club, the country. Alexia Putellas was a thought, not a person.

There was a reason why you didn’t eat anymore, you’d become obsessed with trying to be perfect for Alexia, she hung out with models and super stars on the weekends, and yet you were just you. You were so unworthy of her love and attention that you couldn’t really blame her for falling out of love with you.

“She doesn’t love me, she never has.”

Maria hates it when those words leave your mouth, because it couldn’t be further from the truth, Alexia is just shit at showing you it. She knows that her bestfriend loves you more than anybody else in the world, that she would give up everything to be there for you, she just hasn’t noticed that you’ve needed that.

You sniffle into Ingrid’s chest, your fingers tapping against her thigh and your legs shaking from underneath you. You’ve never felt heartbroken before, Alexia has been your day one, and now it feels like you're just done, like everything the two of you have ever worked for together is just completely done.

“She loves you more than you know hermana, but she doesn’t deserve you if she’s going to continue to hurt you.”

Now that Mapi has you in her arms, she can feel just how much smaller you are, how much you’ve shrunken and how emaciated you are. She internally curses Alexia and her stubbornness, the world is so loud that Alexia Putellas has become deaf to your needs, to your happiness. Sometimes her best friend is one of the most impressive people she’s ever met and sometimes she’s just stupid, stupid for letting the love of her life feel so worthless and stupid for letting you walk out the door, something that could be the stupidest decision of her life.

You're positively exhausted, and it doesn’t take much of Ingrid’s back rubs and comforting Norwegian words that you don’t understand for you to be lulled into a painful sleep.

As soon as the two are certain your asleep the move you into the middle of the bed, Mapi looking over the top of you concernedly at Ingrid.

“She needs helps.”

Ingrid can’t find any part of her brain that disagrees with her other half.

“She needs Alexia to take her foot out of her ass and be present.”

Mapi nods her head, her eyes falling to your own face, even in your sleep you lok disturbed, your eyebrows knitted across your skin and a deep frown on your lips.

“Si, well if Alexia won’t then we have to, she needs to know she’s loved. She’s lost so much weight elksling, she hasn’t been eating or looking after herself.”

Ingrid nods, equally worried as her girlfriend about the health of their bestfriend.

“Get some sleep, we’ll figure it out in the morning.

When the two women wake to find you missing from their bed, it takes a search of their apartment to find you deep asleep in their spare room, neither of them question it. They make you breakfast, you don’t eat it, insisting that you're feeling nauseous. When they try to talk about Alexia you shut them down, you’ve created a mental fortress, one that Alexia and your health and emotions aren’t apart of. They invite you to stay with them for the foreseeable future, and you can’t find any reason to say no.

The following days leading up to the first pre-season training are all the same, you hardly sleep every night, sitting up late out on their porch and waking up at the crack of dawn. Mapi knows that your health is teetering dangerously, you hardly eat, you only leave the house to workout, you are a skeleton of a human being. Mapi doesn’t know what to do, you don’t care about anything anymore, or maybe you care so much that it’s all being numbed out.

It’s the first training session when everything turns to shit. She’d found you balling your eyes out in a change room cubicle beforehand, as soon as you’d spotted Mapi you’d pulled yourself together, terrified of being vulnerable in front of her. It only got worse though when you stepped out of the tunnel and onto the field, to be faced with Alexia, standing casually on the field, chatting with a few of your teammates. Your heart plummeted at the sight of her, the woman that you’d made so tired, so unhappy, laughing and messing about with your teammates. You pushed Mapi away when she tried to comfort you, walking straight to the sideline of the pitch to start your warm up. You made it through half of it, your body hurt though, in a way that it never had before. You only made it through one of your sprints before you were face planting into the turf, your whole body completely done. Your bones sunk into the grass, your body just giving up.

It was Mapi who made it to you first, flipping you over, her eyes searching your unconscious face. She knew this was going to happen, knew it was only so long before your body stopped letting you overwork it.

“Alexia.”

Mapi screamed at the top of her lungs, desperate to draw anyone's attention, specifically your fiance, or ex fiance. Everyone turned to face the two of you, Mapi knelt down on the turf, rocking your body back and forth as she tried her very hardest to awaken you, a task that was proving to be unsuccessful. The whole team rushed forward, Alexia at the front of the pack, collapsing beside Mapi on the ruf, taking your head in her hands and shaking it furiously.

“Someone get a medic, y/n, come on, wake up for me, get up.”

There was more emotion in Alexia’s voice than Mapi had heard in months. Mapi hated that it took you passing out for Alexia to care, and suddenly her protective older sister instinct kicked in, pushing Alexia away from you, taking her hands and distaching them from your unconscious body.

“Get the fuck away from her? She has to be unconscious for you to give a fuck? This is your fault, you let it get this bad, if you actually loved her you would have realised ages ago, but you don’t do you? You don’t love her like she deserves, you only love her when it’s convenient for you?”

The words bring tears to Alexia’s eyes, Mapi’s words awaken something in her, a realisation that she’s right, Alexia has given a blind eye to you and now you were seriously hurt because of it. She scrambled away from your body, suddenly overly aware of just how much she’d hurt you. She pushed herself out from the group, running away from all of them, running away from you, running away from her problems, running away from her life that she’d fucked up so badly.

One of the girls had called 112, clawing Mapi away from your unresponsive body as the medics tended to you, plastering a oxygen mask on your face that was far too big, sitting wrongly on your bony face. They loaded you up onto a stretcher, your cold body attached to more cords than you had extremities.

Mapi managed to fit herself into the ambulance with you, clutching your hand the whole drive to the hospital, praying to herself to let you be okay, to let everything work itself out.

When you woke up it was painful. Your eyes blinked furiously as they tried to focus on anything besides the infuriating white light that was clouding your vision. It took a few seconds for your senses to kick in, but once they did it only hurt more. The sound of constant beeping, movement and noise pollution crowding you ears. It was then that you spotted Mapi and Ingrid at your bedside, your eyes darting furiously between the two as the blood rushed to your ears to protect you from the overstimulating noise that was crowding your brain.

Mapi stood up, her hand intertwining with yours. She was trying to speak to you, but you couldn’t hear anything, your ears making you practically deaf. Mapi held your hand and it seemed to be enough, enough to tell you that everything was okay, or as okay as it could be. Slowly your anxiety slipped out from under you, and your hearing came back, allowing you to focus on what Mapi was saying to you.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s all okay, your okay, take some deep breaths for me.”

Your eyes darted to the IV’s and cords that were connected to you, the feeding tube that went through your nose and down your throat, the oxygen cannula that also rested on your nose, the countless IV’s that were connected to your arm, making it far harder to move your arm at all.

“What happened?”

Your words were choken, your throat dry from lack of liquids. Mapi solved this problem, reaching to your bedside and lifting a glass of water to your lips, you took tentative sips, the water soothing your dry throat.

“You passed at training, malnutrition and dehydration. The doctors think that you’ve been struggling with anorexia for a little while, that you haven’t been eating properly.”

Suddenly everything stopped for you, the words leaving Maria’s mouth making you gulp on nothingness. It felt like you were being choked, big imaginary hands wrapping around your throat, preventing you from saying anything in your defence. It felt like your organs were all eating each other up in your stomach, a uneven discomfort spreading across your torso.

“Nobody is judging you, you’ve been through a really tough time, what matters most now is getting you back to being healthy and happy. Barca is in full support of what you want to do, you have lots of options, inpatient, out patient, moving in with Ingrid and I fully.”

You didn’t want any of those things, you wanted Alexia and it hurt for you to admit that.

“I want Ale.”

Maria frowned at your words, she was still furious with Alexia.

“I don’t think that's a good idea, you deserve better then her hermosa.”

It hurt you to hear Mapi regard Alexia so lowly, when a few weeks ago Alexia had been her best friend in the entire world.

“I want to see Alexia, I know she’s here, let me see her.”

Ingrid stood up, walking out the door of your room and out into the waiting room, retrieving a particularly heart broken blonde from the room and dragging her into your room.

The way your face lit up when you saw Alexia made Mapi feel sick, she wasn’t going to let Alexia hurt you again like she had.

Alexia’s cheeks were tearstained, her eyes distant as they met yours. It hurt her in ways she could never explain, seeing you looking so lifeless in a hospital bed, you were conscious, but all life had been drained from your body, you truly looked like a skeleton.

“Mapi, give me and Alexia a minute will you?”

Mapi looked like she was about to argue, but Ingrid’s hand on her wrist, tugging her out of the room was enough of a distraction, the Norwegian woman closing the door behind the two of them.

“I’m so sorry, I was such a bad girlfriend-.”

You stopped Alexia grovelling by lifting your hand.

“You fucked up, you hurt me more than I’ve ever been hurt before. It fucking sucked Alexia, never seeing you and when I did see you, you were always on the phone or tired or not in the mood. I understand that you are very busy, and that you can’t control your schedule, I’m not having a go at you for that, you are allowed to be tired. I’m pissed off because I was struggling, really fucking struggling and all you gave a shit about was yourself, you don’t understand how stressful it is to explain what’s going on in your head when you don’t even understand it yourself. You are supposed to be my person, the person I can ask and tell anything and you didn’t want to be that and I detested you for that. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t spend everyday hating you, because this is what it does to me. I can’t live without you, but I also can’t live beside a version of you that doesn’t love me like I deserve. I want to try us, I want to try again, because if I stand even a chance at keeping myself alive and being happy whilst doing it, it’s going to be in your arms, but I need you to understand that, I need you to understand that you need to be here for me, regardless of what’s going on in your life. You know I’m proud of you, I’m your biggest supporter, so right now I need you to be that for me.”

Alexia nodded like a goldfish at you, more tears flowing freely down her face.

“How bad is it?”

You bit down on your lip, everything that made Alexia, La Reina was gone, all of her barrier broken down, so that the only person standing in front of you was your Ale, the Ale you loved so very much.

“It’s not good, I haven’t been looking after myself in a long while, Anorexia they say. They want me to go into outpatient or inpatient, or move in with Mapi. I don’t want to do any of those things, I just want to be with you, happy with you, with you there to look out for me, I just need you to commit to that for me.”

Alexia nodded quickly, her head shaking furiously as her blonde hair swished back and forth beside her head.

“Please, if you’ll have me. I’ll take time off, whatever you need, I’m here for it all, I’ll spend everyday for the rest of our lives making it up to you, I promise, please just let me love you.”

You patted down on the space beside you on the bed and Alexia hesitantly sat down on the space, hovering on the bed, making sure she wasn’t touching you, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You were starved though, starved of everything that you’d been missing the last few weeks, you reached out for her, pulling her to sit beside you on the bed, your head coming to rest against her stiff form. It took a few seconds to get her to relax, but when she did she lifted her hands up to your thin hair, carding her fingers gentle through it, trying her hardest not to notice the amount of hair that was falling out as a result of your health problems.

“I love you Ale.”

Alexia was so focused on you, that she didn’t even really hear the words.

“Ale, say it back.”

Your stern tone seemed to awaken her, she pointed her head down to yours, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and murmuring,

“I love you mi amor, more than you will ever know,”

It calmed your soul, a part of your heart that you didn’t know existed finally resting, enough to let you slowly drift off on Alexia’s chest, allowing you to sleep better than you had in months. Alexia found herself following you, the sight of you finally relaxed making her so much more content.

That was how Mapi and Ingrid found the two of you, sound asleep on your hospital bed. Mapi was a little bit annoyed at how easily you’d forgiven Alexia, but she couldn’t find it to be mad at the Catalan for very long, approving of how happy you looked at rest in her arms.

#woso #woso community #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #barca femeni x reader #wfc barcelona #barcelona women #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #liga f #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #older sister mapi leon #made me cry #love angst

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gothicayomi · 2 months

Text

Edit: I made a post about Alex’s reponse: Here

Okay. The Alex callout is so fucking wishy washy that I’m genuinely getting whiplash. When I first read Ven’s callout document several days ago, I honestly skimmed it because I’m the type of person who has always just assumed callouts are fully honest. And siding with the victims immediately is always a must, especially if it’s about grooming minors, or severe abuse. At that time I was also under the impression DB was a minor, thus I automatically denounced Alex Kister. However, last night I wanted to see any updates regarding this development and I’m so glad I saw Ven’s tumblr post before he updated it, because it provided vital information (such as reminding everyone DB is an adult during all this) and I was able to see people’s responses to it. I decided to reread the document with this new, updated information in mind and I’m very upset with how badly this has gotten. Particularly about how feeble Ven’s doc is and how some of the things they said rubbed me the wrong way. For now, I’m just pointing out some things that really stood out to me with how much it didn’t make sense or it was particularly antagonizing toward Alex.

So… in the tumblr post Ven made, they were saying that the point of the doc wasn’t to say Alex was a groomer. And yet they made it VERY CLEAR that Alex’s gender identity was, in their opinion, a way for Alex to “lure victims”. Basically calling a transfem a predator cuz she expressed her gender identity AND sexuality relative to her gender identity to her partner and not minors. but Ven was also backing up from that claim, which clearly was the whole point of the doc???? But it was never stated in the introduction of the document. So first of all, I thought that was weird. It just said “Alex’s predatory and manipulative behavior.” Here we go.

So. Apparently a content creator wanting to make friends and connect with people is parasocial? Sure, content creators have to be aware of their “high status” or whatever, but i think people are also weird for idol worshipping in the first place. Alex (which I’ve seen stated uses any pronouns) has been self aware about parasocial relationships from the beginning and he’s not saying he never was aware of it. 😐 but several screenshots of him explaining himself tells that he never even thought about the potential power imbalance— he wanted some fucking friends.

These screenshots would show someone expressing their discomfort and assert their boundaries. And Alex always seemed very genuine in their apologies and would acknowledge the person’s feelings wholeheartedly. None of it was brushed off by her in the screenshots. She never downplayed anything. And yet you guys are still offended???????????????? Let me get this straight. You want someone to own up to their mistakes and apologize for making you feel weird, but when they do, you’re somehow still upset? Hm. Make it make sense. Like what the fuck you want, blood from a rock??????

By the way, what’s transphobic to one trans person might not be transphobic for someone else. As a gender-fluid person, I’m not going to be pissed off if a different gender fluid person “”“changes their gender every day”,””” (i say this particular thing because I’ve seen people act very upset over it while others aren’t) because it’s not my fucking business and it doesn’t affect me or my daily life. If they’re comfortable and happy, that’s all that matters. I have no say in what other trans people makes them comfortable with themselves. What’s transphobic is invalidating another trans person’s gender identity, expression, and sexuality, (which CAN co exist by the fucking way) and demonizing it just because you don’t like that person or you don’t want to try and understand them. Just so you know. :) that’s like misgendering someone on purpose just because they’re a terrible person, or saying neopronouns are invalid.

Here’s the thing: when you’re exploring gender identity, you’re not going to get it on the first fucking try. From what I’m seeing in the docs, this was Alex around the time they were first stepping into that comfort zone. They were trying new things. Wanting to feel comfortable. Wanting to be validated. Wanting to connect with other trans people. That’s what every trans person wants. You seriously shamed her for that? To the point where Alex admitted they felt so ashamed of their gender expression that they lied about saying it was joke? All to reassure everyone and make people feel better? Fuck you. You don’t fucking get to say what someone should and shouldn’t do regarding their body and gender— he wasn’t saying explicit things to the minors. Not stuff similar to what was said to Ven or D8 so why the fuck is anyone tripping??????

I will say that I understand why Ven would be concerned about this in the first place since when they dating Alex, Alex did make sexual comments about wanting to wear their clothes and look like them. I get it. But Ven, you were his partner, obviously when you guys were comfortably having intimate discussions that he’d be willing to share vulnerable desires with you regarding gender identity woven with sexuality. But why did you automatically, outside of your personal conversations with him, try so desperately to search for that in his convos with other people? When they had nothing to do with you I understand wanting to be concerned and looking out for other people but this was so blown out of proportion that it’s insane.

Alex trusted you so much. And one thing I was really disgusted by was the creepy ass way of you posting screenshots of his sexual fantasies. If Alex does decide to post YOURS you sent to HIM, you have no fucking right to be upset over it, okay? :) fair’s fair, my dude.

So this screenshot being posted after Ven writing in the document “venting to a minor about his sexual frustration” all I have to say is Ven what the fuck are you talking about? being touch-starved isn’t Inherently sexual. Why the fuck is Ven saying this is sexual frustration. ?????????????????????????????????????????? So it’s sexual when it’s said to a minor? Oh okay, good thinking, Ven. /sarcasm. I didn’t know cuddles and hugs were bad. I guess grown adults shouldn’t cuddle their children, or adults can’t hug their child family members. Idk what to say about the “I wish you lived closer thing” tbh because i don’t know what the person said— it could have been taken out of context. Which brings me to my next point.

Ven stated there were people who came forward with their own screenshots of what Alex said. But if someone is going to crop them into tiny little boxes and obscure what the victim said before and after, it’s going to be pretty fucking difficult to even make a proper judgment on whether or not the context is inappropriate, or if it was said to the actual victim themselves in the first fucking place. Sure, the screenshots aren’t fabricated, but we don’t know who the fuck they were sent to. That’s on y’all.

Btw I’m so fucking convinced none of these ppl have ever experienced normal, healthy friendships or relationships, oh my fucking god. No fucking basis for proper judgment, imo.

One thing that also pissed me off was Ven targeting Alex’s mental health and symptoms throughout the doc. They targeted Alex’s paranoia and suicidal tendencies. First off, I’m pretty sure everyone part of tmc + the fandom know that the most prominent themes of tmc are SUICIDE and religious trauma. I once saw Alex post a tweet about various poetry written during his high school years venting his depression and suicidal ideation. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been struggling with depression and suicidal ideation way before that. I’m gonna be so honest, after seeing the way Ven twisted a lot of this around, when I look back on Ven saying “Alex said he’d kill himself if I broke up with him” makes me think Alex could have said something like “you mean a lot to me and I’d be devastated if we split.” like. I can’t be the only fucking person who thinks this. Alex has always been self aware. I know he’s really struggling right now.

LMFAOOOOOOOOOOO BITCH YOU ARE SO STUPID!!!!!!!!!!!!! You either genuinely don’t know what paranoia is (symptom of mental illness) or you, of course, are genuinely trying to demonize an aspect of someone’s symptoms they can’t control. All to justify your bullying against Alex. Maybe research what paranoia is, and you’d be more understanding of Alex.

Mental illness doesn’t fit into your neat little boxes, by the way. And everybody experiences mental illness differently, so don’t act like you 100% know what someone is going through. I understand wanting to see the people you care about getting therapy and professional support. But you don’t have the right to demonize them when they aren’t being outright shitty.

Not to mention, every single fucking time Alex would explain their feelings and perspectives, Ven, you would shut them down in the doc. Invalidating Alex’s feelings. That’s the sort of thing manipulative people do, just so you know, Ven!! The same type of person you claim Alex is!!! Don’t throw stones in glass houses. That’s coward behavior, and projection is damaging to both parties.

Im gojng to be so deadass right now. If I could nitpick every single little detail in Ven’s document that I found weirdly uncomfortable or suspicious or confusing, I’d be making my own goddamn google doc which would be two or three times as long as Ven’s.

This entire matter genuinely could have been dealt with privately. Alex even expressed that and Ven shut him down!!! Do you know how fucking frustrating that is? And no, Alex never shut you guys down so don’t even try and twist the blame back onto him. You wanted him to own up to what he’s done and said, but y’all don’t want to do the same. Sigh!

Also, what the fuck is the takeaway supposed to be? Y’all said he isn’t a groomer. Ven said somewhere in the doc that people aren’t trying to be transmisogynistic. But clearly you are fucking using Alex’s gender identity against her. I hope you burn in hell. Also, since none of the minors were being groomed, what the fuck are you trying to prove?????????? That wanting friends is fucked up and evil???? That you and D8, grown ass adults who were consensually engaging in sexual conversations with Alex, were fucking manipulated? Evidence shows you guys were comfortable with expressing your discomfort and asserting boundaries, but like I said, y’all are still pissed off Alex took accountability. You’re adults. Act like it.

I could go on and on about this shit but these are the key points I wanted to bring up. I saw the post that donut made and I read through it thoroughly but since there is no evidence suggesting Alex was grooming minors, and he was genuinely apologizing for making Donut and other people uncomfortable, it honestly came off as a kid (kids shouldn’t even be in online without a fucking parent’s supervision anyway) being a kid: immature. So I genuinely do not give a fuck. Have your parents watch what people say to you online.

I’m a 23 year old adult who’s been in both toxic and healthy friendships and relationships with people and I can honestly say y’all are fucking stupid for even writing these dumbass callouts. I’m looking forward to Alex’s response and I will be supporting him unless there is substantial evidence showing Alex is a bad person. Ok?

Feelings and perspectives are valid and important on both ends. You don’t need me to tell you that. The point of this post is that the doc was very feeble and lacked proper documentation at numerous points. you shouldn’t purposely misconstrue Alex’s words and actions just to make him look bad, especially if your evidence (screenshots, in this case) isn’t consistent or fully exposed. I will mention what I said earlier: plenty of people here, from what I saw, were able to express their feelings and assert boundaries just fine and Alex was completely open, and whoever needed that help definitely got it. Despite everything that has happened, I’m glad people did have others who understood what they felt.

I may be editing this post if I find I think certain things need to be (re)addressed or corrected. Because like I said, there are various things I want to point out. Stay updated or not!

#Alex kister #the Mandela catalogue #Mandela catalogue #tmc #stirringjuice

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loislane41319 · 4 months

Text

The calm after the storm.

Pairing: Dad!Spencer Reid x reader

Wordcount: 718

Summary: Spencer comes home after being kidnapped.

Warnings: None. I imagined this happening after the events of the Criminal Minds episodes Believer (13x22) and 300 (14x01), but it's not necessary to understand the story.

Note: This is not my best work, but I still put in effort and I'm proud of it anyway. Any feedback is welcome, just be kind about it.

Also, even if all you do is read this without leaving a like or comment or anything else; thank you. I might never know you read this, but it still means a lot.

Story:

The whole apartment smelled like fresh baked sweets. The entire kitchen was covered in bowls, kitchen utensils and flour that you were itching to clean. But, hearing your daughter laugh and seeing how exited she was pressing all the different shaped cookie cutters into the rolled out dough, made that itch disappear like snow in the sunlight. The sound of keys hitting the bottom of a bowl made you turn around. It couldn’t be…

The only person it could be was your husband, but it couldn’t be him. He was an FBI agent with the Behavioural Analysis Unit. His job was dangerous and yesterday you had gotten one of the two calls you had been dreading since the start of your relationship. Your husband had been kidnapped. Your hearts weight had tripled the moment you heard. Your husbands boss had promised their team would find him, but in what state? The only guarantee in this situation was that there were no guarantees. All you could think about were your daughters. Your little girls had just turned four and you had no idea how to raise them without their father. You couldn’t tell them what happened, so, in an attempt to distract them this morning, you were baking cookies with one of them, the other still sleeping. Until you heard that one sound you didn’t expect.

“Daddy!” Your daughters voice pulled you out of your thoughts as she jumped off her step stool and ran toward the door. Your eyes followed the little girl until she flew into the arms of the person who had just entered your apartment. The man you had been married to for over seven years. Your husband and the father of your children. He was okay. He was safe. He was home.

You walked towards your husband as he hugged his daughter. “Hi pumpkin! I missed you!” He told the four year old in his arms. “I missed you too, daddy! Mommy and I made cookies, do you wanna see?” Abby asked enthusiastically. “Absolutely, but where’s Amy?” Her dad asked her about her twin sister as you watched in awe a few feet away. “Amy is still sleeping.” Abby told him. “Ah, in that case, I’m just gonna say hi to mommy and then you can show me all the cookies you made, okay?” Your husband asked your little girl. She nodded and so her dad put her down on the ground, opening his arms for you. He didn’t have to wait even a single second. Without having to think about it, you stepped closer, wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him as close as you possibly could. Feeling your husbands body against your own, caused you to release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I was really scared.” You breathed into his ear. “I was too, but I’m here now. I’m home.” Spencer whispered as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you.” You whispered back, mirroring his actions. “I love you.” He whispered back, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He loosened his hold on you just enough to press his lips on yours. You wished you could stay in that moment forever, but you had to breathe. As you pulled away, you heard a door open behind you. “Daddy!” You heard and moved aside just fast enough for your husband to catch the little girl running straight at him. She wrapped her little arms tightly around her father and hid her little face in his neck. “Hey peanut, you okay?” Spencer asked her. “I missed you, daddy.” The little girl answered. “Aw, I missed you too, sweetheart. Hey, mommy and Abby made cookies. Do you want to go see them?” Her dad then asked her. That caught Amy’s attention. She loosed her hold on her dad and turned towards you. “You made cookies without me?” Your little girl then asked you. Her big brown eyes and quivering lip almost broke your heart. “We did, but we still need to decorate them and we couldn’t possible decorate all those cookies by ourselves.” You told her, exaggerating a little, hoping it would prevent a tantrum. “Can daddy help?” Amy then asked. “Absolutely.” You smiled, happily knowing your family was together, healthy and safe.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x reader #criminal minds fic #bau #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction

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captainamericasmotercycle · 2 years

Note

Hangman x female reader

Hangman falling in love with wolfmans daughter,she was so overly sweet and gentle,she couldn’t ever stay mad at someone and he didn’t understand why but she was the one girl who truly made him feel weak to his knees.They we’re best friends and she never once judged him for how he held himself around others,through the arogence and the cockyness somehow she saw straight through it all an when he was having a really hard night and nobody seemed to know because he was great at hiding that,she ended up just sitting in his lap after he finished playing pool and running her hand through the back of his hair not saying anything at all,it was her just trying to relax him though jake found himself making getting excited about something else.

southern belle

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader

warnings: none

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i hate to be THAT person but sorry this took so long, i had this uncompleted in my drafts and i scheduled to post it last week but a hurricane deadass annihilated my state but anyways i decided to make jake and the reader in an already established relationship i hope that’s okay!

“I’ve been hearing some talk about you around base, Bagman,” Natasha said while finishing her turn in pool.

“Well, what can I say? Pilots are big talkers,” he responded, bending over the table to take his shot.

“Saying you’ve got someone back home,”

Jake looked up at her, “Yeah, you didn’t know that?”

“So it’s true?”

“Yeah,”

“Are you fucking with me, because it’s not funny.”

Bob, Javy, Bradley, and Mav walk up to the area where they normally hang out in the back of the Hard Deck.

“What’s Jake doing this time,” Bradley asks, handing a beer to Natasha.

She takes a sip of her beer and looks around at everyone, “Is Jake actually married or is he fucking with me?”

“He’s married,” almost everyone says in unison.

“Bagman? Like Jake Seresin? Is married?”

Maverick laughs, “Yep, his high school sweetheart if I’m correct,”

“Yes sir,”

“How do you know that? How did everyone know he’s married?”

“He’s married to my Goddaughter,” Natasha’s mouth dropped open and it was like her jaw was going to hit the floor.

“And one of my childhood friends,” Bradley added.

“What?”

“Yeah. None of us have met her but Jake’s said things here and there about her,” Javy says, taking a seat and pointing in between himself and the rest of the squad, excluding Jake, Bradley, and Maverick.

“This is unbelievable. How is Jake Seresin married and I’m not?”

—

This weekend was one that wasn’t too busy for the aviators, so you decided to come up to go house hunting with Jake. You wanted to be with him, but you also wanted him to stay at his base in San Diego. So you compromised and decided to move out to California.

Of course you were going to miss your little place in Texas, but it was worth moving if it meant you would be with Jake again. You had been apart for almost 3 weeks while he worked and you got the moving details sorted out.

You flew in around 7 and texted Jake that you were there. He told you to come down to a little bar called the Hard Deck. You heard your stomach rumble, yeah, you could eat.

You managed to get a rental car and drive yourself out there. When you arrived, you couldn’t help but to feel nervous. You hadn’t met any of his fellow pilots or friends in California, well except for Maverick and Penny.

You grabbed your phone and hopped out of the car. Walking in, you spotted Jake across the bar, and you felt like you had butterflies in your stomach. Even after 6 years, he could still make you feel like a high school girl with a crush.

You divert your attention away to behind the bar where you spot Penny. You walk over to her and lean against the bar. She’s pouring a beer, “I’ll be right with you,” she slides the beer down the bar and turns to you.

She gasps and smiles widely, exclaiming your name. “What are you doing here?” She tells someone to cover for her and walks out from behind the bar. She engulfs you in a big hug.

“I’m up here for a while to look for houses with Jake. I mean he’s got a place but we just figured we would rather have a bigger place with a yard, you know, just in case,” you winked.

“I see,” Penny smiled back. She worked her way back behind the bar, “Well what can I get for you tonight?”

“Get me one of whatever Jake is having,”

“I’m on it,” she winked and smiled while going to pour your drink. You kept yourself leaning against the bar.

Jake spotted you from across the bar and got butterflies. Even after 6 years, you could still make him as flustered as the day you met. He set down his cue stick and walked over to Natasha, “Hey, Trace, how much do you bet that I can get that girl’s number,” he pointed over to you.

She looked at him confused, “I thought you were married?” I mean, he had to have a little fun tonight. Jake pretended to slick back his hair and made his way over to you. Natasha watched with a shocked face, but Maverick knew exactly what was happening, this wasn’t the first time he had pulled a stunt like this.

He finally got to where you were standing and leaned against the bar next to you, “Hey, Darlin’, what are you drinking tonight?”

You turned and smiled at him, “You know, I’m havin’ whatever my husband is havin’,”

“Shame you’re married, we could’ve made a good match,” he pretended to pout. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck and he leant down and kissed you softly.

Across the bar, Natasha dropped her pool cue in disbelief. She watched Penny come back with a beer and talk to Jake and the mysterious woman. The woman grabbed her beer and Jake grabbed her hand, leading her back to the group. Natasha’s mouth was still wide open.

The pair came over, laughing. “This is my wife,” he introduced you to the Dagger Squad. Natasha shut her mouth, which was now dry and she watched your interactions with the rest of the team. You walked over to Maverick first and he engulfed you in a fatherly-like embrace. “It’s good to see you kid,”

“You too, Uncle Mav.” Okay so Maverick wasn’t lying about you being his Goddaughter. This was unbelievable for Natasha Trace. How in the world is Jake “Hangman” Seresin, married to a sweet thing like you?

You made your way around the area, introducing yourself to all of Jake’s friends.

“Bradshaw,” you smile.

“Wolfe,” you squint your eyes at him, “Not anymore, Bradshaw, I’m a Seresin now, I have been for a while too,”

“Really? You’d rather take on this dip’s name, rather than keep the cool one?”

“Alright, Bradshaw, that’s enough slander on my humble family name,” Jake cut in. Natasha watched the interaction between the three of you, well I guess Bradley wasn’t lying about you being childhood friends.

Maybe she’s in some sort of nightmare, this can’t be real. You walked over to Natasha last, “Hi,” you tried to introduce yourself to her, but Jake interrupted you, “This is the Mrs.,” he said proudly.

You rolled your eyes at him and introduced yourself to her in the way you wanted, “You must be Natasha, I’ve heard so much about you from Mav. He says you’re an amazing pilot,” you smiled at her and she smiled back, in a forced kind of way. She wanted to reach out and touch your face to make sure you were real.

“So you’re married to Jake?”

“Yes, ma’am,”

“Like, you?”

You giggled, “I am,”

“Natasha, seriously–”

“Jake, this is your wife? But she’s so sweet and you’re so… not,”

You gasped, “My Jake? He could never even hurt a fly, his momma raised him better than that. He’s the sweetest man I know!” You knew he wasn’t, but you had to have a little fun. You’ve been with Jake for 6 years, of course you knew he had a temper, teasing tendencies, and a bit of an attitude, but you’d never admit it out loud.

“See, thank you, sweetheart. At least someone has my side,”

“Of course, baby,”

—

You spent the rest of the night trading stories and sipping beer. The bar began to empty and soon enough it was only your group in there.

Jake was sitting across from you, watching you tell stories of when you two were in high school. He didn’t know how you did it, but just the looks you gave him made him weak in the knees. He began to get more tipsy and more emotionally overwhelmed.

He came over to you and sat down, he laid his head on your shoulder and you didn’t even think twice. You ran your hand through his hair as he lay down, you didn’t even blink when he came over, you just continued to tell your story.

When you were finished talking, he pulled himself up to your ear and whispered to you, asking to go home. You nodded and waited for Bob to finish his story.

When the end of the story came, you stood up and grabbed Jake’s hand, “I think it’s time for us to head out. It was wonderful to meet you all tonight, we should do this again soon.” You all said your goodbyes and you dragged Jake out to the rental car.

“Baby, my truck,” he pouted.

“We can come back for it tomorrow, honey, right now let’s get you home,”

He nodded and followed you to the car, you helped him in and you got into the driver’s seat, you having had much less to drink than Jake. You pulled out of the parking lot of the Hard Deck and began to make your way home to the apartment.

A perfect ending to a perfect night.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #hangman top gun #pete maverick mitchell #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x wife!reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman fluff #hangman x you

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sugawarassoulmate · 2 years

Text

and i can be needy, way too damn needy

“oh, didn’t like what i had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “both of them feel that way, you know. they only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. you think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

atsumu too? no, that couldn’t be true. he’s always been your best friend. yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. surely all of that had been genuine?

“that’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. this doesn’t feel the same as when osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. this is uncharted territory. never has anyone else been so callous towards you. usually because one of the boys was there to step in—atsumu to offer a kind word and osamu to throw a punch or two.

but maybe that was the problem. maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

this really wasn't meant to turn into anything! i've had this doc sitting on my computer for months thinking nothing was gonna come from it, but you guys really liked the snippet i shared so here it is.

if you were expecting a big confrontation between osamu's girlfriend and reader, sorry! my crybaby doesn't play that way but she does get her comeuppance 👀

also there wasn't going to be any smut in this fic but.......osamu's hot LOL

words: 3.8k

cw: fem!reader, insecurity, name-calling, fingering, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity mention, minors dni

disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/ just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.

these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!

You walked into the kitchen expecting to see Osamu with his head in the fridge as usual. Instead, you found something worse, his girlfriend leaning on the counter. A scowl on her face as soon as she locks eyes with you. It’s the first time you’ve ever been alone with her, without Osamu there to make a mean comment at your expense that makes her laugh sweetly, “Baby, you’re being so rude!” she’d say in her shrill voice.

But there’s none of that in her face at the moment. She crosses her arms, eyebrows furrowed as she gets a good look at you. “Of course, you’re here too,” she says, attempting to grumble under her breath but it’s definitely loud enough for you to hear.

You don’t really want to know what she meant, mumbling an apology in her direction before trying to shuffle past her to the stairs. She’s quicker than you, though, blocking your path and almost tripping you in the process. “What the hell are you doing here?” She gets in your face, demanding an answer. It’s only when she’s so close that you take in how pretty she actually is: full, pouty lips, a high arch in her eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, a straight nose.

She didn’t look like the kind of girl Osamu dated, but you figured that wasn’t a fair assumption for you to make. You didn’t really know what kind of girls Osamu liked. Whenever his brother brought the topic up, it usually ended with a punch to the gut.

“Atsumu and I have plans,” you said, hoping she’d leave you alone. She purses her lips, seemingly not satisfied with your response. “Could you—”

“Do you not have friends of your own? You’re always tagging along with the twins, aren’t you embarrassed?” her features twist into a smile, one of ridicule. You’re not sure how to respond, mouth clamping up as you hope for someone to come downstairs and save you. But you’re not that lucky and your silence only pisses her off even more. “Not even going to defend yourself? Samu’s right, you’re hopeless!”

Hopeless? Had Osamu said that about you? He’s said worse things to your face, sure, but never once did you think he spoke about you behind your back. Did he talk about you to her? Complain about you? Of course, you weren’t his favorite person in the world but did he actually feel that way?

You could feel your stomach churning, a bitter taste bubbling in the back of your throat. You had to get out of there, but your legs wouldn’t move. “Oh, didn’t like what I had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “Both of them feel that way, you know. They only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

Atsumu too? No, that couldn’t be true. He’s always been your best friend. Yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but Atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. Surely all of that had been genuine?

“That’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. This doesn’t feel the same as when Osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. This is uncharted territory. Never has anyone else been so callous towards you. Usually because one of the boys was there to step in—Atsumu to offer a kind word and Osamu to throw a punch or two.

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

“Please, do you think they’d say it to your face? To the crybaby that lives next door? They don’t want to hurt your feelings but someone needs to give you a reality check.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap back, feeling the tightness in your chest. Even when Osamu was giving you his worst, he never made you feel so small.

She laughs humorlessly, taking a step forward into your personal space and leaning down. It feels so humiliating. “I know enough,” she claims. “Every time I’m with my boyfriend, he never shuts up about you. What makes you so damn special? Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own.”

You wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. That you knew more about the twins than she did, but all the energy you had left disappeared. And, in turn, her words started playing in your head over and over. Maybe it was true. Maybe your friendship with the twins had run its course—or rather your friendship with one of them did. Osamu had never been your friend before, had he?

Right on cue, the tears started running down your face. You could imagine how red and distorted your face had become, your nose becoming runny and mouth growing dry. You’re rushing out of the room before she could say anything else, running towards your house and slamming the door behind you.

It’s only when you’re finally alone that you allow your sobs to get loud, to feel all your insecurities pouring out into the open. And it’s just so pitiful that your first reaction is to run to Atsumu and point out the person who made you feel this way. What’s most surprising is that, for once, it wasn’t his brother who was at fault. Not even Osamu could make you cry this much.

Your phone starts buzzing every few seconds and through tears, you read out the notifications on the screen.

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: did ya get here yet?

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: thought i heard the front door..

You want to reach out to him, to both of them. But you can’t even bother with a reply. Instead, you turn your phone off, and let your tears flow some more.

You’ve never avoided both of the twins before, but you couldn’t face them after that conversation. It was hard at first, having both of the boys blow up your phone for most of the day was pretty normal. The three of you were always together, whether at each other’s houses, going out, or running errands together. If that wasn’t the case, you’d be on the phone with one of them, usually Atsumu, for hours.

But for the first time, you haven’t been giving either of them your attention—you turned off notifications on your phone, started waking up an hour earlier so you wouldn’t have to walk with them, and you told your parents not to answer their calls.

“Did you get into a fight?” your mother had said. “What did Osamu do this time?” But you didn’t really have an explanation, the real story being far more embarrassing than anything else.

At school, it was harder to steer clear of them. You didn’t share many classes but you ended up moving your seat in the few you did, ducking out of the room as soon as the bell rang to avoid having to talk to them. Thankfully, volleyball kept them busy and limited your interactions.

There was one incident in the cafeteria where you nearly broke your-self isolation.

It was easy for Atsumu to find you in a crowded room, locking eyes with you across the cafeteria. The boys were there with Suna and Ginjima talking amongst themselves and being rowdy as usual. Atsumu waved in your direction, beckoning for you to sit with them and you nearly did. Until you saw her cuddled up to Osamu’s side, a disapproving look on her face.

Osamu’s face didn’t look that pleasant either. “Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own…”

Suddenly feeling nauseous, you turned your back on the table. Grabbing your food, you make your way towards the roof and eat there. You could usually be alone up there, without being a bother to anyone else.

“Did Osamu do something to you?” Suna asked one day when you were in the library. It was safe to study there—the boys had been banned in their first year after one too many fights. Suna sat across from you, an unreadable look on his face as he watched you take notes. “You haven’t come to practice in a week.”

You figured there was no use in avoiding him and continued to keep doing work. “Why does everyone think he did something?”

“Something had to have happened. Tweedledee and Tweedledum said you haven’t spoken to them in a while,” he leans back in his chair with his feet up on the table. Even during the worst moments with Osamu, you’d still end up getting dragged to practice somehow. “They’ve been fighting a lot more than usual. Kinda annoying, honestly…”

That didn’t do much to quell your anxiety. It was always nasty when the boys fought but the idea of sitting in the bleachers with her after what she said made you queasy. Maybe it had nothing to do with you. The twins fighting wasn’t out of the ordinary, what made you so special?

“I’m really busy with school, okay?” you motion towards the mess of papers on the table you’re working at. But Suna looks unconvinced, probably thinking back to all the times you’ve either done homework or studied while watching the team practice. “Just don’t tell them that you spoke to me, please?”

One thing you love about Suna is that he doesn’t pry. If you’re not ready to talk about something, he’ll hold off on asking questions. “Fine,” he sighs, getting up. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ve got it figured out. But do something quick, ‘cause I don’t know how much patience Kita has left.”

You can’t explain the uneasiness in your gut while watching Suna leave the room. He was wrong, you didn’t have it figured out. There wasn’t a plan or an end goal in mind. But you couldn’t face the boys just yet. And, honestly, whatever was going on would figure itself out with or without you.

“No, no, no, no…” you groan to yourself fishing through your backpack for the tenth time, hoping your keys would somehow magically appear. There was a torrential downpour outside and your parents weren’t home or answering their phones. Like an idiot, you forgot your keys and certainly didn’t have an umbrella, your soaked uniform sticking to you, your body freezing and shivering.

The only people who had spare keys were the twins and their mother. “For emergencies,” said your own mother so long ago but they were never actually used for emergencies. All too often, the boys would barge into your home for snacks or drinks, but mostly for you. They’d pluck you from your bedroom—it didn’t matter if you were studying or sleeping, really—and drag you back to their house to watch a movie or settle an argument.

You asked your mother to tell them you weren't home or hid out in the library until it was too late for them to show up at your front door. But now, you were royally fucked and were running out of options. “Please be here…” you cried, wishing for your keys to end up in your hand.

“Are ya stupid? Yer gonna catch yer fuckin’ death out here!” It wasn’t hard to figure out who the voice belonged to. Osamu stormed to the front of your house, pissed off as he shoved you under his umbrella. “The fuck ya standin’ here for? Yer practically blue!”

You didn’t have the energy to argue or come up with some excuse to distance yourself from him. Not when your crybaby tears were threatening to come back again. “I don’t have my keys,” you sobbed, feeling cold and pathetic.

Osamu grabs you by the sleeve and hauled you next door to his house, cursing with every wet stomp of his feet. You’re pushed through the front entrance, already forming a puddle on the floor. The shoes by the door let you know their mother isn’t home either.

“Dude! Ya were right behind me, what took ya so long—” Atsumu stops dead in his tracks when he spots you, an unreadable emotion on his face but he’s quick to go into protective mode, running towards you and his brother. “What—”

“She forgot her fuckin’ keys,” Osamu grouches, sticking the umbrella in a stand near the door. He turns to you, looking as if he wants to bite your head off. “Go upstairs and take a hot shower. We’ll get ya clean clothes.”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” her words are in your head again. The twins need to take care of you yet again because you’re too stupid to remember to carry a fucking key. “I just need my—”

“I don’t remember askin’ ya,” Osamu says, pushing you in the direction of their bathroom. “Go.” Your eyes flick to Atsumu but he’s in agreement with his twin. Embarrassed, you start heading upstairs, wishing for all of this to be over.

The boys left clean clothes for you outside the bathroom door after your shower. As expected, the shirt and pajama bottoms were much bigger, completely drowning you. Your wet clothes were thrown in the laundry room to be washed and dried. You’re too nervous to go into the living room and face them, but hiding upstairs would only make the situation worse.

You decide to just rip the band-aid.

Wringing the rest of the water with your towel, you walk in to see the boys talking amongst themselves. They stop when you enter the room, Atsumu looking apologetic as he leaves room on the couch for you to sit. A cup of tea sits on the coffee table, likely made by Osamu and you’re certain his anger would only get worse if you refuse.

It doesn’t take very long for Osamu to start interrogating you as soon as you sit down. “Why the fuck didn’t ya come here sooner?” he stands in front of you and his brother, grey eyes shooting daggers at yours.

“I thought I had them,” you lied, letting the cup warm your still cold hands. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“But why would ya think yer a bother?” This time Atsumu spoke, his hand reaching out to rub your shoulder. You appreciated the extra warmth. “Better yet, where have ya been lately? Ya stopped talkin’ to us out of nowhere.” You don’t miss the way his eyes glance over at Osamu. He probably thinks it’s his fault too.

“You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?” You’re so fed up at this point that her name falls from your mouth before you could stop yourself. Osamu quirks his brow, probably wondering what she has to do with any of this.

So you tell them—You mention all the nasty things she said to you, the cruel looks she’d shoot your way at school, and how you felt too stupid to tell them because a part of you really wondered if it was true. By the time you’re done, there are a few stray tears running down your face that you didn’t notice at first. A frustrated crybaby to the very end, you’re nothing if not consistent.

They’re both angry now, eyes locked with one another. “Did ya know about this?” Atsumu’s tone was accusatory.

“Of course I fuckin’ didn’t, why didn’t ya tell me?” Osamu asked, looking at you, but his brother is quick to come to your defense.

“It doesn’t matter when she told us, what matters is that it was yer girlfriend that said that shit to her.” He snaps, pulling you closer to his frame to soothe you. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu, tongue poking his cheek. “What’re ya gonna do about it, Samu?”

The younger twin rolls his eyes takes a deep breath and walks out the room, choosing not to start a yelling match for once. Once you are alone, Atsumu wraps you in his arms for a hug. “Please don’t disappear like that on us again,” he says, refusing to let go. “I won’t be so nice next time.” You can hear the dumb grin on his face. You’ve missed him, both of them. Atsumu makes sure you finish the rest of your tea before walking off to set up the futon for you—he suggested you spend the night and didn’t take no for an answer.

You’re folding your uniform a few hours later after taking it out of the dryer. It should probably be ironed before you could wear it again but, thankfully, there’s no school tomorrow. While you’re there, you decide to fold the rest of the clean clothes there as well, knowing the boys’ mother would appreciate it.

The sweet silence was broken with Osamu’s heavy steps coming downstairs, screaming into his phone, unaware that you’re also in the room. “I don’t wanna hear it and don’t even think about comin’ here and gettin’ yer shit,” From all the years of knowing him, you’ve never heard his voice get like that. Even when he and Atsumu were fighting and he’s certainly never yelled at you like that.

“Get one of yer stupid friends to pick it up from Atsumu or Suna or I’m throwin’ it the fuck out. I’m blockin’ yer ass after that. Fuck off.” He hangs up without another word and that’s when he catches you kneeling in front of the dryer with piles of folded clothes. His face doesn’t soften as he gets down on your level, eyes scanning your form. “That’s Tsumu’s shirt…”

Staring down at the much too big shirt, you now realize that he’s right. You hadn’t really considered which of their shirts the boys gave since you were more concerned with having warm clothes than anything else. “I just grabbed whatever was there—” Osamu’s quick movements take you by surprise. Next thing you know, he has you pinned to the floor, hovering over you. It rattles you at first, but Osamu’s always been known to push you around whenever he felt like it. “Samu—”

“Don’t keep secrets from me. Ya should’ve told me as soon as she said that shit.” His knee is between your legs and you wonder if his intentions are pure. All of your clothes were soaked from the storm and all Osamu had to do to get to your more intimate parts was wander his hands just slightly underneath your shirt. It had been a while since he did anything like that. Osamu was loyal to the girls he dated. At least you think. So many times he’s trapped you for a quick kiss when nobody else was in the room, it’s possible that you had overlapped with his relationships a few times.

Maybe that’s why she hated you so much.

“If any of that bullshit was true,” Osamu continues, noticing the apprehension on your face. “I wouldn’t put up with yer sensitive ass.”

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled, fingers twisting between the fabric of your shirt. You felt stupid, letting your own insecurities and her words get to your head when you know none of them to be true. With all the years you’ve known them, you should have given the boys more credit. “I missed you.”

Finally, Osamu’s face relaxes. At this point, you wonder if he was actually upset with you this whole time, or with himself since it was his ex-girlfriend who had said caused all this. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s overwhelming, like all his kisses and it feels wrong to be so close just moments after he broke up with her, but it doesn’t stop you from deepening it.

“Such a pretty little crybaby, don’t know why I even bother with anyone else,” his voice is thick while his hands tug at your clothes. “Take this off. I’ll give ya my shirt in a bit, just lemme see ya.”

The sensation of your breasts being exposed to the cold laundry room to Osamu’s warm mouth wrapping itself around your nipple. A sharp whine leaves your lips but you stifle it, remembering that Atsumu is still upstairs. Osamu bites down on the sensitive bud, as one of his hands reaches past the sweats you had on, groaning when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear.

Two of Osamu’s fingers plunge into your cunt without warning. It gets harder and harder to muffle your noises, eyes welling up with tears. “Wanna hear yer pretty noises, dummy. Been hidin’ from me too fuckin’ long. I deserve ‘em,” he growls, biting down hard on your breast just to force a high-pitched cry from you.

You pray that Atsumu is in his room. The thought of anyone seeing you in such a compromising position—half-naked and humping against Osamu’s hand—would be so humiliating but it has you whining and moaning even more.

“Can feel yer pussy clenchin’ around my fingers. Gonna make ya cum on the fuckin’ floor like a slut,” You can hear how wet you are, juices flowing down Osamu’s hand and it’s becoming too much. His thumb circles your clit as his fingers speed up. You pull him in for a kiss, burying your cries into his mouth. “Cum fer me, stupid girl. Missed this pretty pussy, need ya to cum.”

By the time he adds a third finger, you’re already too far gone. With a final, exasperated sob, you cum around Osamu’s hand. He stares, mesmerized by how sensitive your cunt is when he pulls his fingers out, your essence catching the light.

Your brain is too fuzzy to notice Osamu wiping his hand with Atsumu’s shirt, too busy trying to stop your legs from twitching. “Samu…”

“Don’t start yer whinin’, I’ll clean ya up,” he warns, grabbing a clean t-shirt to put on you. It’s one of his, of course. “Much better.”

“Don’t mind her, y/n,” Suna says after following your line of vision. The two of you were sitting at your regular lunch table a few days later when you felt someone staring daggers at you. Sure enough, there was Osamu’s ex looking back. Her usually pretty face now red and puffy. As horrible as she was, you still feel bad.

“Don’t mind who?” Atsumu asks as he and his brother join you after getting their food. Osamu feels your body tense up and is swift to see the reason why. Watching his eyes meet with hers brings back that unpleasant sinking feeling in your stomach for some reason.

But Osamu is quick to look away, an arm wrapping around his waist as he offers you some of his food. You sneak a brief glance back at her, just in time to see her storm out of the cafeteria.

It shouldn’t make you smile, but it does.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #osamu smut #osamu #osamu x reader #osamu miya smut #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #miya twins #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #✨#✨osamu #bully!osamu

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onigiriico · 1 year

Text

Mahiru audio drama (t2) - English TL

[ links: Spotify / Youtube ]

Another voice drama, another translation! 🎉 As always, if you’ve got any questions, find a mistranslated line, etc etc, feel free to head to my ask box (recommended) or my Twitter and I’ll do my best to get back to you! (Also definitely do listen to the drama if you get around to it because the VAs do an incredibly good job)

⬇️ translation under the cut ⬇️

(door opens)

E: …!

M: It’s been a while, Es-kun.

E: Mahiru…

M: I missed you…

E: …Are you okay?

M: Ah… yeah. I’m able to move around on my own as long as I have this wheelchair, so…

E: Shidou told me about your condition.

M: Ah… mh. Is that so…

E: I didn’t think you’d be in a state for me to interrogate you.

M: It’s all thanks to Shidou-san. Ah… I think I should thank Milgram as well. For supplying us with the medical tools and the wheelchair and all that. I wonder if you’re the right person to say this to?

E: …

M: Why do you look so sad…?

E: Because… you suffered such major injuries…

M: … Ah, but this is… I think Kotoko-chan is the one who did it, so… you know? It’s not like it’s your fault. Um, so…! I’m not holding a grudge towards Kotoko-chan either. I’m sure she just thought it couldn’t be helped…

E: That’s…

M: Ah, no, um… I do wish we could put an end to this though… ahaha… ack–

E: Mahiru–?

M: Sorry… for making you worry. I’m fine! It doesn’t hurt at all.

E: It’s a horrible injury. There’s no way it doesn’t hurt.

M: It doesn’t!

E: Don’t lie to me! Let’s call Shidou right now–

M: I mean it. It doesn’t hurt. Compared to the way I felt when you didn’t forgive me… Not at all.

E: …!

M: Not at all… Nothing. None of it hurts. It’s not… as big of a deal. Ever since, I’ve always been hearing… voices saying I couldn’t be forgiven. Yours? Whose? I don’t know… I don’t know, but… I heard them the whole time.

E: Mahiru, calm down…

M: Was what I did such a bad thing? I just… had a normal relationship like everyone else…! That’s all I did! Why can that not be forgiven? Hey, why? Why? Why?

E: Mahiru!

M: Stop it!

E: …!

M: … Ah– I– I—I’m sorry…! If– If you touch me so suddenly, it makes me remember… how it hurt… and I get scared…

E: It’s fine. If you don’t talk, that’s fine too. Let’s just take it slow.

M: …Yeah… S-sorry… It’s– it’s not that I hate you or anything, you know?

E: Take a deep breath. It’s okay.

M: Uh… (deep breaths) I’m fine already...

E: Mahiru…

M: Hey, Es-kun? I was wondering why you didn’t forgive me… I’d like to hear the reason… straight from you.

E: From me…?

M: Yeah. I already said this before, but all I did was love someone. I don’t know what kind of footage Milgram presented to you, but… did it not look like that to you? What did you see? What… did you feel?

E: What I saw was… just you having fun. I’m sure you were in love. Your feelings of bliss were conveyed to me as well.

M: Right? It was really fun. Did it make you want to fall in love?

E: No clue about that.

M: You’re so cold. – So, how… does that connect to me not being forgiven…?

E: It’s true that the footage looked happy. But by selecting [you], Milgram is telling me that you’re a murderer. I can’t just take things at face value. What Milgram shows to me is each person’s mental imagery. It’s not like it supplies me with certainty or objective facts.

M: Umm…

E: What’s wrong?

M: I’m not that smart, so could you put it in a way that’s easier to understand…?

E: (deep breath) There’s the possibility that you’re just framing the truth in a way that’s convenient for yourself. Meaning that it was only a happy relationship… in your own mind.

M: …!

E: …So, that’s what I deduced. So…

M: That’s… Aha. That’s a shock… This means that… you think of me as a liar, doesn’t it…? Did I do anything that made you think that?

E: …I’m the Warden. I get that this is painful for you, but I’m telling you my own thoughts.

M: Yeah… let me hear them.

E: I said that your love has killed someone, right?

M: That’s true.

E: Actions taken out of one-sided love, such as stalking… Someone dying as a result of something like that is a possibility, too.

M: …! Haha… That’s horrible…

E: Yeah. It is.

M: It’s not like you saw what I actually did, right?

E: Yeah. Not straight-forward, anyway.

M: Right…

E: Anyway, Milgram follows a three-trial system. This isn’t the final result. It’s only what I’ve seen up until now.

M: Yeah. – Him and I… we loved each other. Properly as boyfriend and girlfriend. We met in college… It was the first time for me, so I don’t know if it was good or not, but… I think we were just normally going out together. I thought it was fate. He said it was, too.

E: Is that so…

M: I’m not… a stalker or anything like that. Although from your point of view, it might seem that way.

E: Yeah.

M: But I’ve made up my mind. I’ll properly convey my feelings too. He’s dead. It… it might have been because of my love.

E: Mahiru…

M: But… I just normally loved someone. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. And besides, I… can’t live without love.

E: Why would you go that far…?

M: Because I know how precious it is to be in love. The moment you love someone, you realize the beauty of the world as it changes. To not forgive me means to take the act of loving away from me. That’s the same as not being alive. It’s the same as not being able to drink water or breathe. So… if this love isn’t allowed, then I don’t mind dying. Kotoko-chan’s acts aren’t a problem, either. I think she’s fighting for her own cause as well. So I don’t blame her. Because I also think that I… that my love isn’t wrong. I don’t want to be shamed for my love.

E: …

M: No matter what you think, it won’t change things for me. That’s what I’ve decided.

E: …I’m stunned.

M: Eh?

E: You’re impressive, you know. Without any flattery. I think you’re impressive.

M: Are you praising me?

E: I might be. To not resent anyone in this kind of situation, staying strong and even emphasizing with others… How can you do something like that?

M: Hehe… This is the power of… lo… ve…

E: Mahiru?!

M: I… I might’ve… gotten ahead of myself…

E: Your feelings have reached me, loud and clear. I’ll judge you in the second trial as well.

M: That’s… good… (pained noises)

E: …I’m sorry. I’m responsible for the fact that you’ve ended up like this.

M: (coughing, heavy breathing)

E: It was my decision not to forgive you. I don’t intend to deny that. But… the fact that I couldn’t predict Kotoko’s actions was a failure on my end.

M: (heavy breathing)

E: If I had known that it would turn out like this…

M: If you had known that it would turn out like this, you wouldn’t have forgiven Kotoko-chan?

(machinery whirrs, bell rings)

E: …Huh?

M: If you had known that Kotoko-chan would attack bad people, and you looked at her crime – would your willingness to forgive and your judgment have been changed?

E: …

M: This is the result of you doing what you believed in, isn’t it? The result of you working hard at your job?

E: Yeah.

M: Do you remember? Back in the first trial, I said I liked people who work hard.

E: Yeah… You did say that.

M: Because I told you that I like people who work hard… I’ll accept this pain, too.

E: …Ma–!

M: That’s why… no matter what the people around you might say, I think you should do what you want.

E: You’re– You’re the one… telling me that?

M: Yeah. Es-kun, you’re working so hard… You’re doing great.

E: …!

M: …Oh my… are you crying? Es-kun…

E: I’m not!

M: You’re putting up a tough front.

E: No way. – The talking ends here. Show me the continuation, Mahiru. In order for me to respond to your feelings, too.

M: Okay. It may be a bit late to say this, but… I’ll be in your care.

E: Prisoner no.6, Mahiru – sing your sins.

#milgram #milgram music videos #milgram es #milgram mahiru #mahiru shiina #translation #fan translation #audio drama #mappi's going through it & so are my feelings jfc man

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penkura · 12 days

Text

knowing [5/8]

Summary: Sanji knew you were the one the moment he met you.

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

Warnings: None really. Normal One Piece stuff I guess.

Note: I love Dressrosa, Sanji got to go on a date lol. But obviously things are different here. ;) This one is also a little shorter, I wasn't sure what to do with this, but I'm fairly happy with it. Next week will be much longer! And on time I swear omg.

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4]

With the events of Fishman Island behind you, arriving on Punk Hazard, you drew straws with everyone willing to venture to the burning side of the island, being one to join Luffy, Zoro, Robin, and Usopp to scope the place out. You promised Sanji you’d be fine, you’d stick by Zoro even thought Sanji didn’t like that either, he knew you trusted Zoro as much as you trusted him. You knew Sanji would be fine taking care of the rest of your crewmates, even when you make it to the frozen side of the island and see things have gone a bit awry, as your friends are now all swapped around thanks to one Warlord.

“Okay, okay,” you looked between the four as Usopp took out a notepad and pencil to keep things straight, “So, Franky is in Chopper’s body.”

“Super right, buddy!”

“And, Chopper is in Sanji’s body.”

Sanji, or, well, Chopper nodded, starting to cling onto you which felt weird even though it was your boyfriend’s body it was Chopper’s mind.

“Nami is in Franky’s body.”

Nami-Franky was nearly in tears, poor Nami crying over not being herself.

“And…” You looked over the to the last member of your crew, smiling when see they aren’t looking at you, “Sanji is in Nami’s body.”

Slight nod, you nearly laughed at the whole situation, while everyone was wondering how to fix it. You weren’t sure you knew the answer, but thought Trafalgar Law was your only way of getting the whole thing fixed.

You all take to just calling your swapped friends by their names, you taking a seat by Sanji and patting his back while he kept his head in his hand, not having fully looked at you since you showed up. Being in Nami’s body must’ve been a lot for him to take in, especially considering his relationship with you.

“We’ll get you back to normal, Sanji. It’ll be okay.”

He stayed quiet for several moments, before finally turning to give you a hug that you returned.

“It’s probably weird,” Sanji said while almost burrowing into your shoulder, “but I just need a minute, I’ll be fine…”

“I know, I know.”

It was a little weird, to hear his voice coming from Nami, but for the time being, you’d have to accept it. It wouldn’t change anything about your relationship, it was only temporary. Even when Sanji left with Zoro and Brook to go after the torso-less Kin’emon, you stayed with the rest of your crew, helping calm the withdrawal suffering and mostly giant children, as Luffy and Franky ran to save Nami from whoever snatched her thinking she was Franky.

Once Luffy and the others return, with Trafalgar Law at their side, and an alliance planned thanks to Luffy not stopping to ask anyone else. You were all for it, making Nami mostly yell at you after she was swapped into Sanji’s body.

Nami in Sanji’s body was even weirder than the other swaps, but it felt stranger when Nami hugged you as she cried over now being in your boyfriend’s body instead of her own. You looked over at Law, giving him a slight glare that he returned.

“What?”

“I kind of hate you right now.”

You were glad later that day when Law finally switched the two back. Sanji was so happy that the second he got the chance, he hugged you so tightly before running off to help Tashigi and the other Marines while you went on with Nami and the others to help Chopper stop the children from getting the spiked candy.

“I’m glad for you and Sanji,” Nami made a slight face that caused you to laugh, “But thank God I’m back in my body, I didn’t want you guys being weird while we were swapped.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry!! All we did was hug!”

“Still weird.”

Robin smiled hearing your conversation and the near cackle you let out at Nami’s reaction.

Personally, she was just glad Franky wasn’t in Chopper’s body anymore.

+!+

“That little brat.”

“Sanji. He’s a child.”

“He knows what he’s doing.”

You fought back a laugh at the scowl on Sanji’s face while Momonosuke, one of the children you’d helped rescue from Punk Hazard with his father Kin’emon, slept on your lap. Of course, you knew the child had a bit of a bias towards women, whether because he didn’t have his mother or because of perverted reasons, you didn’t want to know really. You preferred to just view him like your little brothers, someone who needed some comfort and attention.

“He reminds me of my youngest brother,” You smiled a bit, watching Momonosuke while Sanji watched you still, “He was four when I left home, I felt awful cause he was crying and holding onto my leg so tightly…I almost stayed.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you looked over and gave Sanji a smile that he returned. “He was the baby before the new one my mom was pregnant with, we really thought he was going to be the last one.”

“There are nine of you now?”

“Yep.”

Sanji quietly nodded, turning back to his dinner prep and trying to decide if he should say something else, before finally doing so.

“I’m…one of five.”

“…really?”

“Mm,” Sanji knew you were just watching his back, he was still trying to word things, that was the second thing he’d ever told you about his family, the first being his mother’s name, “I have one older sister…and three brothers, two older and one younger. My brothers and I were quadruplets.”

Your eyes widened and you had the sudden fear of having quadruplets yourself, before Sanji, who turned around to see your fear, quickly calming you down by saying his parents had help and there was no record of natural multiples of that many in his family line, you were safe. At the most you could have twins one day, but even that was rare.

Once Sanji had talked you down from running away with a million bunny trails, he sat beside you and watched Momonosuke sleep.

“I guess he’s kind of cute.”

“Kids are always cute when they sleep.”

The three of you are quiet for a bit, Sanji thinking of different things while watching you and Momonosuke. He wondered if you wanted to be a mom one day, do you actually want kids with him? He’d heard you and Nami talking about the kids from Punk Hazard, how you wanted to help them and the soft spot you both had for children. Having watched you the last couple days, on your trip to Dressrosa, as you spent time with Momonosuke and helped care for him, it made him want to have children with you so much sooner than you probably should or could.

Of course, he wanted to marry you first, but he had decided you would be a wonder mother one day, if that was what you wanted.

Luffy nearly broke into the kitchen a few moments later, shouting that you’d all arrived at Dressrosa, and it was time to get off the ship.

You had already been enlisted by Law to come with him to help hand over Caesar to Doflamingo, which Sanji didn’t particularly like as he was supposed to stay on Sunny with Nami, Chopper, Momonosuke, and Brook. While he trusted Law as an ally, the way you two seemed to be hanging out more and getting closer, it made Sanji a little jealous to see, but he was trying to push it aside after you’d forgiven him for his indiscretions with seeing the mermaids on Fishman Island.

He didn’t want to do anything to lose you.

+!+

"Hey, come with me, moss head."

Zoro didn't have a chance to argue with Sanji about going elsewhere before the blond pulled him into a store by his sleeve. He didn't even get to see what kind of shop he'd been dragged into, what if it was a place he didn't want to be? Once he did see it was a jewelry store, Zoro grumbled to himself about how stupid of a place this was for him to be, he didn't need anything more. His three earrings were more than enough. Why did Sanji even want to be here?

"Hey, what the hell are we doing here?"

"Shut up for a minute." Sanji growled out a bit, before turning back to the store clerk and handing the man a ring, asking to see anything in that size. Once the clerk brought over several rings that matched, Sanji started looking at them closely while Zoro watched him for a few minutes.

He finally had a thought about what Sanji was doing, but there was no way right?

He definitely wasn't doing what Zoro thought he was doing, despite his mumbling to himself about what was too gaudy or too ugly for you.

"What are you doing, curly brow?"

Stopping for a second, Sanji held a small ring in his hand before he looked at Zoro.

"I want to ask [Y/N] to marry me. I don't know when yet, but I want to do it soon."

He really was doing exactly what Zoro thought he was doing. Sanji was trying to choose an engagement ring for you. He'd probably only dragged Zoro into the shop with him so the swordsman wouldn't get lost, but the fact he even told Zoro what was doing was a surprise. You had gone with Law, Robin, and Usopp to hand off Caesar to Doflamingo if all went well, so there was no chance of you randomly walking in and finding out about this before he was ready to ask.

Sanji had known for a while that he wanted to marry you. If you all hadn't separated for two years, he believed he would have asked much sooner, but he also knew things would work out the way he hoped and planned either way. Whether he asked tomorrow or in another year, he felt certain you'd say yes. After watching you with Momonosuke since he and Kin’emon had joined you all, he knew his decision to ask you was going to be the right one, he knew you were going to be a great mother to whatever children you may have in the future.

Zoro was surprised Sanji hadn't asked you to marry him yet. He saw the gross, lovesick look the chef always gave when you were around him, the far off look in his eyes when he'd watch you spending time with someone else on the ship, and even the tiniest bit of visible jealousy as you spoke with Law about the plans he had for you all in Dressrosa. He knew you were the same way, lovesick looks when Sanji wasn't paying attention, you'd told Zoro many things that he didn't need or want to hear about how you loved the blond, and the way you'd be the first to offer to help clean and wash dishes after dinner.

There were even the few moments Zoro would catch you two on the deck, against the railing. Sanji would have an arm around you, leaning in to whisper whatever he had to say, which more often than not would make you blush and giggle a bit, doing the same to keep your conversation private. Zoro couldn't hear the likely gross, lovey-dovey things you were saying to each other to elicit such reactions, and he didn't want or need to know.

If your relationship was out in the open for everyone to know about, Zoro could only imagine how gross you two would be.

"Surprised you haven't asked her yet."

"Yeah well," Sanji handed the ring he'd chosen to the clerk, who walked off to get it rang up while he took a drag from his cigarette, "Things have been moving so quickly lately we've barely had time alone as it is."

"You gonna ask her once this is done with?"

Taking the bag once he'd paid for the ring, Sanji shook his head while he and Zoro left the jewelry store. "No, I don't think so. I want to ask at the right moment."

"Better not make her wait forever," Zoro smirked a bit, but he knew Sanji wasn't going to take too much longer to pop the question to you, "Who knows, she might fall for Traffy if you do."

"Don't joke about that, you lame ass moss head!"

+!+

Dressrosa was freed in a day, you were glad when the birdcage came down and knew Luffy had taken down Doflamingo, finally. Your part was to help the townspeople after you worked with Robin and Usopp to stop Sugar’s Devil Fruit powers, having run off after your call with Luffy’s group and Sanji’s on the Sunny. Despite your concern for your friends, you were also worried for the regular people who had no part in the whole ordeal. Even with Marines around you tried to be sneaky, as a kunoichi should be, and slip around to help anyone who needed it, but especially the children that had been separated from their parents or other family members. Every moment and reunion made you miss your own parents and siblings, but also made you grateful to have the chance to make a difference in someone else’s life.

After your few days of rest in Kyros’ home and quick escape from the kingdom, you were glad to he back on a ship, even if it wasn’t the Sunny, returning to water made you even happier than you would’ve expected it to, even though it had only been a few days.

Much of your time during your trip to Zou was spent with Robin and Law, Zoro noticed. Or course you’d be near to Robin, she was like the big sister you never had, but Law was a surprise. He didn’t seem like the kind of person you’d be drawn to, let alone friends with, but maybe there was something else going on.

He was joking when be told Sanji you could go after Law if the blond tool too long to propose to you, it wasn’t a real thought in his mind at the time.

Eventually you tale a break from everyone and go to Zoro, sitting beside him and leaning into his arm, which makes him nod towards Law and Robin.

“What’s going on there?”

“Oh, I was just getting an idea of Traffy’s plan. He’s really got things all figured out.”

“Not what I meant.”

Tilting your head, you look back to them, before realizing what Zoro meant and feeling your face heat up.

“Oh. Oh! No, no, no, Zoro, nothing like that!”

“Look just cause the cook isn’t here and you’re still a secret doesn’t mean—”

“Zoro. Trust me. Law is cool and all that, but I’m not attracted to him. Sanji’s the only one for me.”

Zoro shrugged a bit, going back to his drink your interrupted him from. He does believe you, he’d been watching and the look in your eyes while you talked to Law, it wasn’t at all like the one you have when you look at Sanji. That look you have when you’re in love with someone, completely smitten and enthralled by them, you’ve only ever given that look to Sanji ever since you met.

“You’ll be back with your weird boyfriend soon.”

Giggling, you nod and close your eyes, just thinking about seeing Sanji again.

See you in Zou, Sanji.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #knowing fanfic #fem!reader #black leg sanji x reader

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kazemi-archive · 3 months

Text

Reality Check pt.2

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x Reader WC: ~0.7k Genre: angst Summary: atsumu doesn't really think things through. he also tends to think he's done less wrong than who he's currently arguing with. mizuki sets him straight. CW: not really? atsumu being dumb but also just a baby?

Prev Part — Masterlist — Next Part

“Atsumu, shut the fuck up.”

Atsumu froze in place, hands still in the air, stopped mid dramatic wave. His mouth was still open, words of his rant halting in his throat. He didn’t know what to expect to come from Mizuki’s mouth as she sat there, rubbing two of her fingers up and down in between her eyebrows as she listened to his latest rant about how you still hadn’t reached out to apologize to him. “What?”

“I said shut the fuck up.” She dropped her hands from her face with a sigh. She was exhausted, honestly. He’d been non-stop yapping about you for weeks. She wasn’t unused to that, if she was honest. Before she’d met you at his birthday party a few weeks prior, Atsumu never shut up about you, not until she finally pointedly asked if he’d had feelings for you. That had led to an entire night-long breakdown of revelations from him. An idiot. That’s what she’d called him that night. The biggest idiot. And he was holding his title strong now. “You’re my best friend. I’m here for you. Support you. I played along with your little ‘make y/n jealous’ game that went terribly terribly wrong.”

“‘S not my fault she-”

“Shut up, I’m not finished.” Atsumu flinched a bit at the harsh tone that came from his usually playful best friend as she looked at him indifferently. “You’ve been in love with this girl for years. Years Atsumu, head over heels for as long as you can remember.” He blinked in shock, wanting to talk but knowing it was better to keep quiet. He’d seen others receive this treatment from Mizuki and he’d seen the effects of that. “You need to stop moping. Stop blaming this whole situation on her. It’s not just her fault. I’ve placated you, let you whine and bitch and moan about how she betrayed you.”

“But she-” Mizuki fixed him with a quick glare and he shut his mouth instantly.

“I was there for that argument. That blow up at the restaurant none of us will ever be able to show our faces at ever again. It wasn’t just her. It was you too. You’re just as much at fault as she is. You miss her? Talk to her. Apologize for your part in it. God do you really hold your ego that high?”

Mizuki was up now, gathering her jacket from the back of the chair she’d been sitting on and looking for the small amount of things she’d left strewn around his room from the study session they’d meant to have before he’d started in on his now daily rant. Atsumu had dropped his hands now, letting her words sink into his skin. It made his stomach want to twist up. It made him want to throw up.

“I watched her after you walked away in that restaurant.” Mizuki’s voice was softer now, like someone trying to break hard news to a child, gentle but serious as she wrapped her scarf around her neck by his door. “You didn’t see how her face changed, the hurt on it in between the anger. You were not the only person who walked out of that restaurant hurt, losing something you never thought you would.” She sighed as she pulled open the door. “If you love her Atsumu, really truly love her, it shouldn’t matter if she’s dating someone else. Talk to her. Don’t let your ego ruin every bit of your relationship with her.”

The sound of the door shutting behind her echoed in the silence. Atsumu didn’t remember the last time he’d been so quiet. He’d always tried to fill the silence with his own voice. Anything to not hear any of the doubts in his head. The ones that currently came flooding in. The ones now saying that he was being stupid for falling for you. Even more so for fighting with you. For possibly losing you.

The wetness on his bottom lashes surprised him but he didn’t try to wipe them. Atsumu couldn’t remember the last time he cried.

TAGLIST : @the-last-shiv @iluv-ace

#𓇻 Liberosis

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geekishfangirl · 1 month

Text

I can’t view Batman/Bruce as a real hero

So I’ve gotten into DC recently, or more specifically I’ve gotten into the Batfam, and the more I learn about Bruce Wayne the harder it is for me to look to him as a hero.

I’ll preface all this by saying I have consumed very little DC content, so if something I say is not actually canon pls let me know.

It started when I learned that this man seemingly has an absolute no kill rule. Not a “I try to avoid killing and only do it when absolutely necessary” rule, but a “I refuse to kill anyone no matter the circumstances” rule. I honestly hate this because it’s not effective in any way. Take the Joker for example, Batman has to fight him over and over again because they simply cannot seem to keep that man in prison and Batman won’t kill him or let anyone else do it. I think this is because he wants to believe that anyone can change, and they can, but just because they CAN doesn’t mean that they WILL. People have to choose to change and the Joker has had like 30 chances to do so, yet he continues to kill innocent people. How many innocents have to die before someone acknowledges that the Joker will never choose to be a better person and finally decide to do what’s necessary to protect everyone? They either need to find a way to keep him in jail or just take him out.

This got worse when I learned about Jason Todd. Here you have a poor boy taken in by Bruce, who idealizes him and views him as a father, and when he gets kidnapped, tortured, and murdered by the Joker he dies alone. When he is brought back to life, he’s mad at Bruce, not because Bruce didn’t save him, but Bruce didn’t kill the Joker to avenge him. Because Bruce didn’t love him more than he loved Justice. Hell, even on his grave, “A good soldier”. I’ve seen ppl say that maybe he didn’t say son because he didn’t want to erase their family ties and the kids never took his last name and sure, I get that. But putting a good soldier instead? He didn’t have to do that. Jason wasn’t a soldier, he was a little boy. It seems like Bruce forgets that about the Robins sometimes. (None of this is even getting into my feelings about Bruce taking in multiple children and having them fight crime, literally risking their lives every night but then this rant would be even longer)

And apparently Bruce fucking decks Dick because Dick was asking him why he let him become Robin before he was ready? Bro cannot take any criticism for his actions I swear. I mean, even if he never officially adopts them (I’m very confused on that tbh) he does still view them as his kids. He still helped raise them. After all, they were all underage when he met them and took them in. So to straight up deck your eldest and tell him to get out literally right after your other kid was murdered solely because he questioned you is actually wild.

Then you have the whole batarang incident, which just makes me question his morals more because he’s got the whole “no killing whatsoever” thing going on but then decides, “I won’t kill the man who murdered my son and countless other innocents, but I can and will slit my son’s throat and leave him for dead.” Like, HUH??? Also, didn’t Dick accidentally kill the Joker once and Bruce went out of his way to REVIVE HIM? Honestly feels like Bruce has some weird relationship with the Joker cause he seems to care about him more than anything. LET THAT MONSTER DIE!

I saw someone say that they thought the “no killing” thing wasn’t effective but was accurate to Bruce’s character because his vigilanteism isn’t actually mainly about helping but about punishing himself for what happened to his parents. And if you kill the villains when you need to, you can’t keep punishing yourself through fighting them. Like a self-sabotage thing. I thought that was super interesting but it would also just go along with him not being a truly effective hero, cause he won’t make the hard calls that are sometimes needed.

In conclusion, while I am sure Bruce has done good for people, it’s hard to see him as a truly effective hero (or a good person/father for that matter) when he does stuff like this.

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devirnis · 8 months

Note

if you’re still taking prompts, can i ask for a combined 13 and 22? 👀

@bvckandeddie of course you can ask for combos! I hope this is to your liking 💜

(full disclosure, I wrote this in my notes app while hopped up on painkillers and cold medication and also on vacation ✌️)

Chim calls dibs on the couch the second Buck’s front door closes behind the three of them.

Buck glances at Eddie on his other side, wondering if he’ll put up a fight for the couch (and trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care if he does), but Eddie just nods tiredly and trudges in the direction of the stairs up to Buck’s bedroom. Buck can’t really blame him; today was the shift from hell, on top of a long week of shifts, and culminating in the call to limit potential exposure to their families by staying with each other. Given that he lived alone, Buck’s loft was the logical choice for Chim and Eddie to use, while Hen had elected to stay in the guest room at Bobby and Athena’s while the kids moved to Michael’s place.

None of them are very jazzed about the whole situation. One, because it’s a global pandemic and work has been crazy and everything is just a little scary right now, and two, Buck knows Eddie would much rather be with Christopher, and Chim with Maddie.

Buck lingers on the main level just long enough to help Chim dig out some blankets for the couch — he really needs to get an air mattress if this goes on longer than the two weeks that everyone is promising — before hurrying up the stairs after Eddie. He finds his best friend at the top of the stairs, staring a little blankly at Buck’s bed.

Oh. Right.

While Buck is totally cool with sharing the bed — it’s a king, after all — he has no idea how Eddie’s feeling about the prospect. The last person Eddie shared a bed with was probably Shannon, and Buck needs to not think too hard about that if he wants to keep his head on straight (pun definitely intended.)

“I can take the floor?” Eddie asks, glancing over at Buck.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I don’t have an air mattress. Besides, it’s fine, it’s plenty big enough for both of us.”

A strange sort of expression flickers over Eddie’s face, but it’s gone before Buck can identify it. When he turns back to the bed, Buck swears the back of Eddie’s neck is a little flushed.

“If you’re sure,” Eddie says haltingly.

“I don’t have a problem with sharing with you,” Buck says, and then frowns, his stomach dropping a little. “Unless — I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable —“

“No, no!” Eddie scrambles. “No, I didn’t mean — I’m not —“ He sighs. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“Oh, uh.” Buck’s stomach twists for some stupid reason. It’s been a while since he shared with anyone — Ali was out of town a lot during their brief relationship, and he and Abby hadn’t been physical long enough to pick sides. “The middle. Pick whichever you want.”

Eddie wanders over to dump his duffel bag on the right side of the bed, closest to the stairs. “If you have a dent in your mattress that I keep rolling into…”

“I haven’t had it that long!” Buck protests.

Eddie smirks at him, but there’s something else there besides the playfulness that Buck is familiar with.

Before he can decipher it, Chim’s calling from downstairs about Buck’s terrible throw pillows and the moment is broken.

Eddie shoots Buck a sympathetic look as Buck sighs gustily. “Maddie wouldn’t appreciate it if I killed the father of her unborn child on the first day, right?”

———

Buck thought that he’d have trouble falling asleep given the general existential dread hanging over him and the fact that he’s sharing his home with two other people, but he actually doesn’t remember much after he crawled under the covers beside Eddie.

He’s so comfortable. He loves his mattress and sheets and pillows, but somehow he’s never had a sleep as good as this before. He’s warm and cozy, with a comforting weight along his left side, grounding him, making him feel held.

Actually —

He is being held.

There’s an arm slung across his waist, a head on his shoulder, soft hairs tickling the underside of his jaw. He breathes in, the cobwebs of sleep slowly dissolving in his brain, and he smells —

Eddie.

Eddie is on top of him, clinging to him like a koala bear, snoring softly into Buck’s collarbone.

Buck’s traitorous heart soars in his chest.

He shouldn’t be happy about this. The only reason Eddie is here is because of a pandemic — not because he wants to be. He probably doesn’t even realize it’s Buck that he’s holding; muscle memory from Shannon is the only reason that Eddie is plastered to him like this.

Buck shifts slightly, hoping he can disentangle himself without waking Eddie, but then Eddie’s arm around him tightens at the same time as he groans.

“Time’s it?” Eddie mumbles.

The hot breath against Buck’s skin makes him shiver. He twists his neck to read the clock on his bedside table. “Early. Not even five.”

Eddie hums into Buck’s neck, going boneless for a few blissful seconds before he suddenly stiffens. Seemingly aware that he’s stuck to his best friend like a barnacle, Eddie slowly lifts his head off Buck’s chest and meets his gaze. There’s a blush high on Eddie’s cheeks that Buck finds equal parts adorable and disheartening.

“Um…” Eddie says, slowly unlatching himself from Buck. “Sorry about that.”

Buck feels depressingly cold now that Eddie’s scooted a respectable few inches back. “Don’t worry about it. It was… kind of nice, actually.” And then Buck cringes because seriously? He had to say that last part out loud?

Eddie’s face gets even redder, but then he says, “Weirdly, that’s the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

“Well…” Buck hedges, “I make a pretty good pillow. And — I don’t, y’know, mind. If you don’t.”

Oh god, can a hole just open up in his bed and swallow him now and put him out of his misery?

But, miracle of miracles, Eddie begins to slowly inch closer again. He keeps his eyes fixed on Buck the entire time, like he’s expecting Buck to take back his offer. Buck practically holds his breath, terrified to do anything lest he scare Eddie off again. But then Eddie slowly resumes his earlier position, laying an arm gently across Buck’s stomach as he places his head back on Buck’s shoulder.

“Your mattress totally has a dent in the middle,” Eddie whispers.

Smiling, Buck wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, holding him close. “Guess we’ll just have to get comfortable in the dent, then.”

He can’t be sure, but he swears he feels Eddie’s lips curve into a smile against his skin.

(also on ao3)

#911 ficlet #buddie ficlet #myfic #bed sharing prompts #theyweretooyoung #ali answers

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