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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 1 month

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Obey Me! Brothers React to: Under the Table Fun!

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Welcome! to this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. I don't know why I can't write the content I need to, and why I instead write weird content but uh yeah hopefully you guys like it. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡

⚠︎Caution: NSFW Post⚠︎

Cw: feet, foot jobs? Exibistism? Idk tell me if I missed any warnings. I have no idea what this is but enjoy.

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Mc and the brothers are eating in the dinning hall like normal. Mc sits across the table from the character, and while everyone's eating and chatting Mc uses their feet to tease and pleasure the character. (I feel like once the brothers choose a seat at the table it never changes or a fight will break out, but we'll pretend for the scenario that sitting in different spots is allowed)

Lucifer's Reaction:

This man sits at the head of the table so good luck man. The odds of him sitting at a seat rather than the head of the table are low, but not impossible.

When Lucifer first feels something touch his leg he is surprised and suspicious, he immediately thinks it's one of his brothers pulling one of their idiotic pranks. Mans is traumatized by his brothers pranks.

..However when Lucifer glances under the table and sees it's Mc's foot he's amused. At first he thinks maybe Mc just wants to rest their feet on his lap while eating, but he quickly catches onto Mc's plans as they slide their foot up his thigh and begin rubbing it against his clothed groin. Lucifer will indulge in Mc's antics for a little bit, Lucifer may even let Mc give him a footjob under the table until everyone's eating dinner, if he doesn't think his brothers will catch them. But most likely Lucifer will stop Mc after a few minutes of indulging them. Lucifer will direct Mc's foot to a different part of his lap, allowing them to rest their leg on his lap as long as they behave and don't begin their actions again. Lucifer will even hold Mc's ankle with his non-dominant hand while he eats, no it's not cute and for comfort, hes just doing it to prevent Mc from moving their foot, don't let his trickery fool you.

Lucifer's reaction draws no attention to what's happening under the table, he's calm and collected and even when indulging Mc his face only gets a little red and he covers any sounds he makes with coughing or clearing his throat. If he gets to the point where he doesn't feel like he's hiding what's happening well, then he'll simply stop Mc's antics.

There is no way in the three worlds that Mc is getting the Avatar of Pride to cum during dinner with his brothers. An insane thought. According to him. Don't listen tho, remember nothing's impossible if you try hard enough, keep dreaming! One Lucifer is too prideful to pull his cock out for Mc to even give him a proper footjob so their job of getting him to cum with just their feet would be harder than it would be if he wasn't as prideful. Two there is no way, absolutely no way, anyone is getting this man to cum in his pants. Or so he thinks. That would destroy his ego, he's the Avatar of Pride man! That all said, Lucifer will be whisking Mc away as soon as dinner is finished, taking them to his room to finally get the release that is owed to him. After all he indulged Mc's bratty antics, and they got themselves into this situation in the first place.

Mammon's Reaction:

It's actually surprisingly hard to get a seat across from Mammon, I feel like he's the type to want to sit next to Mc on the side Mc's on, and he's not afraid to fight and complain over it, so it'll take effort.

When Mammon first feels something touch him from under the table, he helps or screams in surprise. What was he supposed to do?? It could've been a ghost or something scary! Mammon's reaction causes all the other brothers to look at him, and Mammon being Mammon he probably embarrassedly yells at Mc, so they have to play it off as wanting to scare him. Mc may wait to try again, or if they're bold enough they'll continue to try that night, it'll only take a few attempts for Mammon to adjust and get used to feeling Mc's foot touch his legs and be in his lap, so he'll eventually stop jumping and freaking out.

When Mc finally is able to get down to business and begins sliding their foot up Mammon's thigh towards his groin Mammon freezes, he tenses up and his face goes red, but he recovers quickly and eases up. He covers his face with his hand embarrassedly, but he stays silent, not throwing a fit or making a scene. Mc takes this as a sign to continue, they begin to rub their foot against Mammon's clothed bulge. Mammon will be a good boy and enjoy whatever attention Mc is giving him, he's greedy for all Mc's attention even if he is stressing. If Mc really wants to be spicy and bold, all they have to do is send Mammon a text. He'll do anything his human asks of him, even whip it out so Mc can give him a proper footjob under the table.

Mammon's Reaction does draw attention, I mean Mammon's loud and chaotic so for him to go quiet and his face to be all red, his brothers are going to be suspicious and tease him. Though his brothers probably won't catch on to what's happening unless Mc makes Mammon cum. If Mc makes Mammon cum then everyone in the room will know what's happening under the table, or at least that Mammon is cumming. Mans is too loud for his own good, couldn't even hold back if he tried, which he did.

Mc can definitely get Mammon to cum if that's what they are wanting. Mammon won't cum instantly but it won't take too much work to work Mammon off. When Mammon cums he moans loudly, even with his hand on his mouth everyone can hear it, so all attention is on him. Mammon makes his case worse, instead of trying to play it off Mammon panics and just bolts, he's gone running to his room so fast, leaving Mc with his brothers and his mess. I like to think Mc would have learned some cool spell that could just clean up the mess so they wouldn't get caught, they could just pretend they have absolutely no idea what's wrong with Mammon. Mammon is gonna be mad, he got embarrassed, humiliated even in front of his brothers, but he will get over it. He'll probably be going to Mc's room or dragging Mc to his room by the end of the night. He may even come up with a plan to try and get Mc back, though his plans usually backfire on him.

Leviathan's Reaction:

I'm almost positive that Levi canonly sits across the table from Mc, so doing this with him would be super easy. Just don't push your luck too much, Levi freaks and scares easily, if he doesn't trust that he can sit across from Mc without going through this every time then he'll just stop sitting across from Mc. So it can only be done occasionally.

When Levi first feels something touch him from under the table he freaks out, not nearly as bad as Mammon's reaction but that's because Levi freezes, he becomes a deer in headlights. He freezes his body tenses up and he looks terrified to see what's touching him. When he looks under the table and sees it's Mc's foot, he tenses up more, his face going red, if Levi could become any more frozen he would. I feel like Levi just knows what's going on, he just knows Mc's not just trying to be cute and rest their foot on his lap while eating.

When Levi feels Mc begin to slide their foot up his thigh towards his groin he knows he's done for. Levi is aroused and flustered before Mc even begins to rub their foot against his groin. Levi is frozen in place so Mc has time to tease and mess with the poor okatu. Levi will not be hard to get off, so if Mc doesn't want to put him through that they have to be careful with how much they push and tease him. No matter how long Mc messes with Levi, he'll be sweating, mans is stressing, he's an anxious frozen mess. If Levi snaps out of his panic he may take off running for his room, but he'll be sure to send Mc a D.D.D message. He may yell at Mc over text but he'll also probably beg them to come to his room and finish what they started.

Levi's reaction could cause suspicion and draw attention. It really just depends how much attention his brothers are paying to him that day, say Mc pulls this trick when Levi's in the middle of ranting, then his brothers are obviously going to notice how he suddenly freezes up and gets all flustered and sweaty. Levi darting away to his room actually doesn't cause that much suspension just because he runs away to his room so often. If Mc makes Levi cum he surprisingly won't draw too much attention, he may squeak when he cums but then he's gone, darting off to his room faster than ever before, nobody has time to see the wet spot on Levi's pants before he's out of the room, going to hide away in his room for like a week. Mans is too anxious to go to dinner for a bit.

Getting Levi to cum would be extremely easy. You don't even need to get him to whip it out, which he wouldn't do mans is too anxious for that, what if one of his brothers saw? He'd never live down the embarrassment. Depending on Mc and how fast they want the experience to be over they can have Levi cumming within the first few minutes if not seconds. Trying to give our boy the benefit of the doubt, so let's say minutes. As previously stated his reaction is so Levi like that even if he cums he won't raise suspension, just hiding in his room before anyone even realizes he got up. It doesn't matter if Mc makes Levi cum or not, they will be getting a D.D.D message, it'll probably be Levi yelling at them all embarrassedly. Mc is required to go bribe their way into his room and give him cuddles and apologies. Then Levi may end up wanting to have fun again, in the safety of his room of course.

Satan's Reaction:

Satan seems like the type to sit across from Mc, I think he sits like across to the right or left of Mc not directly across from Mc, but there are occasions when he sits directly across from Mc. So it's not too hard to do this with Satan, but it is a dangerous game to play.

When Satan first feels something touch him from under the table he tenses up, he doesn't know what to think, maybe it's one of the cats he's been hiding in his room. Maybe the cat escaped, followed the smell of food and naturally came to him to beg for food. The only way to see if his theory is right is to look and see. ...looking down Satan is puzzled when he sees it's actually Mc's foot. A million thoughts and ideas scatter his mind and he can't figure what's going through Mc's until he looks up and sees Mc's mischievous smirk. As soon as Satan catches on to Mc's plans his face goes bright red, but he doesn't make a scene or purposely draw attention. He sees what Mc's doing as a challenge, he likes winning especially against Mc. It's almost better than winning against Lucifer..almost.

When Satan feels Mc sliding their foot towards his groin he knows the challenge has started. He keeps himself calm and composed besides his face being bright red and him occasionally clearing his throat. Satan will do absolutely everything in his power to not focus on Mc rubbing their foot against his clothed bulge. Satan is thinking about everything possible, the type of stuff that's instant turn offs to him. Satan does not go silent either, he uses conversations as a distraction so he sits there chatting about the most random things possible. If Mc's doing a good job and he really needs a distraction, he'll start a random conversation with Lucifer, he thought having a conversation with Lucifer would distract him, since he knew it would piss him off. Imagine how awkward that conversation would be, mans is unintentionally drawing attention to himself. Talking to Lucifer does piss him off, but it doesn't take his attention off Mc and their actions under the table. If Satan gets mad enough he might just grab Mc and drag them off to his room in the middle of dinner. He may want to win but he's not the Avatar of Pride so he's willing to admit defeat. However if Satan can control his wrath, he'll try and make it through the whole dinner. He'll only give up if he has to, he's not cumming during dinner with his brothers right there. Do you know what Lucifer would say and think? Satan's not giving that to Lucifer, that prideful bastard would hold that over him for the rest of his life. "Satan couldn't control himself at the table" The arrogant prick would treat him like a child.

Satan's reaction does draw attention and suspension from his brothers. One he's incredibly flustered the entire time, and he's brothers are always pointing out and picking on him when he's flustered. Two he's talking about the most random things, kind of sounding like Levi, and he's only like that when he's talking about a good book or crime show, or cats. It's not that his brothers think that Satan's a "calm person", but his brothers know he can usually hold a conversation. Three, he willingly started a conversation with Lucifer, one that seemingly wasn't supposed to be a prank or an argument, that's immediately suspicious. If Mc ends up getting Satan to cum it will only draw attention because he'll stand up and just bolts to his room, which isn't normal for Satan unless he's mad.

I don't think Satan would let Mc make him cum at dinner with his brothers. Satan has some restraint, and he'll know when he's about to finish, so I feel like he'd just stand up and excuse himself, but before he actually leaves the room I feel like he'd grab Mc and drag them off to his room with him. He may want to win the challenge but he's not determined enough to cum in the middle of dinner with his brothers. If he didn't do that then he'd definitely be messaging Mc once he's in his room, Mc started this mess now they have to finish it. Doing this to Satan is dangerous as Mc has now made it fair game for Satan to get Mc back, so do expect to be experiencing pay back sometime during future meals at the house of Lamentations. Who knows, maybe Satan will be bold enough to do it somewhere besides the house.

Asmodeus's Reaction:

Like with Mammon, I believe it's hard to sit across from Asmo but not as hard as it is with Mammon. I feel like Asmo sits next to Mc because he likes being close to Mc, Asmo like Mammon complains and argues usually when he can't sit next to Mc. But all Mc would have to do is ask Asmo to sit across from them so they can stare at his beautiful face during dinner and Asmo would be all over it.

I can see this going two ways I feel like it'd just depend on Asmo's mood and how goofy and horny he's feeling, the joking way I would say is that Asmo jokingly asks Mc if they are getting friendly under the table, just to realize that Mc actually is. But in seriousness here's his reaction: When Asmo feels something touch him from under the table he squeals loudly and dramatically drawing everyone's attention to him. Asmo goes to make a huge scene, but stops when he sees what touched him under the table.

When Asmo notices it was Mc's foot that actually touched him he squeals again, but this time it's more out of excitement, he knows what Mc's up to before Mc even has to do anything. Even though Asmo has all his brothers attention on him he plays it off like a pro, Asmo will start chattering about some make up brand or something that he's just been DYING to tell his brothers, when. In all reality hes just trying to keep their attention off of what's happening under the table. Asmo's face may get a little red as Mc begins rubbing their foot against his clothed groin but he mostly plays off his arosual extremely well. Asmo will gladly let Mc do as much as they want with this situation, if Mc wants him to whip it out under the table all they have to do is send a message and he's quickly but discreetly unzipping his pants and getting it out. Getting Asmo to cum would not be too hard of a task, you just have to be really dedicated and willing to deal with any repercussions getting Asmo to cum may cause.

Asmo's reaction while it's happening is not too suspicious, his brothers may think he's being extra chatty but besides that he'd hide it really well, Asmo's the Avatar of Lust, he has done all sorts of things and knows how to mask his pleasure well. But making it so Asmo cums could be a problem, now I think he's extremely capable of not being loud when finishing if necessary, but this is Asmo we're talking about, I feel like he's saying he's blessing everyone's ears by letting them hear him finish. But he may also not want to get in trouble, because then they may stop allowing Mc and him to sit next to each other, so he may keep quiet just so it can be done again.

Getting Asmo to cum wouldn't be too hard so if that's Mc's endgame then they're in luck, cause Asmo will let it happen. Asmo has no shame cumming in his pants, he may be upset if it's his favorite pants or undergarments, but he'll just make Mc go shopping with him. If Mc had Asmo whip it out, he'll use a napkin or something so they don't make a mess, especially if he's not trying to get them caught. If Asmo doesn't moan loudly while finishing then he just casual hangs out for the rest of dinner, Asmo will whisk Mc away after dinner, if not to have more fun then to just cuddle and hang out. If Asmo can't whisk Mc away then he'll definitely send a D.D.D message, probably talking about how much fun he had and how naughty Mc is, but he'll most likely mention wanting to do it again.

Beelzebub's Reaction:

It's not incredibly hard to sit across from Beel like it is with some of his brothers. Beel enjoys just sitting at a table with everyone he cares about and eating some good food, though that doesn't mean that Beel doesn't prefer when Mc is in a closer proximity to him then not, Beel just won't make a scene cause he doesn't want to ruin a good meal.

When Beel first feels something touch him from under the table there's like no reaction at all, Man's is focused on eating, he thinks one of his brothers just kicked him whether it was on accident or because he stole some food he doesn't care he's just gonna keep munching away.

When Beel feels something sliding up the inside of his thigh from under the table he finally looks under the table. Seeing it's Mc's foot Beel is a little confused, but he doesn't mind Mc touching him so he just continues eating. When Mc starts rubbing their foot against Beel's clothes groin Beel's face may get a little red and he may make "mmm~" sounds while he's eating but other than that Mc doesn't really get much of a reaction, Beel continues eating all the same. Mc fairly mistakes the lack of reaction as a lack of enjoyment and goes to remove their foot from Beel's lap completely. Beel gently grabs Mc's ankle, moving their foot back to his clothed groin. Mc's confused until Beel ruts a little against Mc's foot while still eating the whole time. Mc gets the point and begins rubbing their foot against Beel's clothed erection. Beel munches away happily, enjoying the pleasure from Mc and enjoying his food, it's one of the best meals he ever had if not the best meal he's ever had.

Beel's reaction does not draw suspicion from his brothers, Beel is always enjoying food so him blushing or groaning in enjoyment is nothing new to anyone who's ever eaten with Beel. If Mc makes Beel cum his reaction will cause attention to be drawn just because of what happens.

Mc could make Beel cum but that's a really bad idea. Mans may start choking on the food he's scarfing down, if Beel started choking all attention is going to be drawn to him, and in a very fast manner, he'd literally be choking, man. So cumming during dinner with his brothers doesn't happen for Beel but he will sit there and enjoy Mc just rubbing their foot against his clothed erection and basically edging him until dinner is over. After dinner Beel will willingly follow Mc to their room to finish things off, Beel's a hungry man so the favor will be returned. Beel is one of the only ones that will straight up admit he wouldn't mind if Mc did it again during a different meal, it made the meal all the better for him, even if Mc doesn't do it again, it'll be memorable for Beel.

Belphegor's Reaction:

It's honestly pretty easy to sit across from Belphie, Belphie is a brat about a lot of things, but where he sits during dinner is not one of things he's a brat over as long as he's sitting somewhere around Mc. It doesn't even have to be close to Mc, as long as he can see and hear Mc he's fine and surprisingly won't throw a tantrum. So sitting across from Mc isn't going to earn any whiny remarks from Belphie.

Belphie is half asleep when he first feels something touch him from under the table. He jolts awake in surprise, causing his brothers to look at him confused. Belphie ignores his brothers's weird looks and looks under the table, seeing it's Mc's foot Belphie's tired mind is nothing but confused. He can tell by the mischievous smirk Mc has that Mc's up to no good, but he's still too half asleep to understand Mc's plan.

It's when Belphie feels Mc's foot sliding up the inside of his thigh that he realizes what Mc's planning. When Mc's foot reaches Belphie's clothed groin and begins to rub against it, Belphie's face gets bright red and his eyes go wide, even though he knew that's where this was going he feels suprised Mc was brave enough to go through with it. Belphie may have been half asleep before this but Mc's actions are enough to have the Avatar of Sloth wide awake now. Belphie is a brat, one would expect him to cause a scene or do something bratty, Belphie even expected himself to do that. But Belphie doesn't throw a fit and grab anyone's attention, nor does he try and do something bratty. Belphie moves his plate out of the way and then lays his head down on the dinning room table, not because he's tired, but because he wants to hide his flusteredness and reactions from his brothers and Mc. Belphie will keep his head laying down on the table like he's sleeping the entire time Mc does their actions, but that doesn't mean he's not enjoying it. The fact that Mc's foot is rubbing against his clothed erection is a clear sign that Belphie's aroused and enjoying it, but Belphie occasionally ruts his hips, grinding against Mc's foot which shows he's really enjoying it and being a needy brat. Like usual. Belphie is at Mc's mercy, he'll oddly be a good boy and just sit there and take whatever attention Mc will give him. Because he's an attention whore.

Belphie's reaction doesn't draw suspicion unless he cums or makes too much noise while enjoying Mc's actions. Belphie falls asleep at the table often, he falls asleep literally everywhere, honestly his brothers probably looked over to make sure he wasn't laying on food and then his brothers probably went back to doing their own thing while eating. The fake sleeping act totally would work for Belphie with this. If Belphie cums he may draw suspicion but he could play it off by saying he had a nightmare, Belphie would moan all high pitchedly because he'd be trying to hold back and not make sound, not wanting to be embarrassed by his brothers, so he may be able to say it was more of a scream in fear, but that'll earn teasing too. If Belphie can't get them to not take any lie or excuse he comes up with, he'll try and put all the blame on Mc, he's a brat.

If Mc wants to edge him til dinners over they can, if they want him to cum in his pants they just have to push him over the edge and he'll let it happen. Maybe it's the scenario, but Belphie's brain just blanks, no bratty way to combat Mc's actions, nothing but enjoying the pleasure Mc's ballsy enough to give him during a meal with his brothers. If Mc chooses to make Belphie cum they have to be willing to deal with any consequences if there are any. The rest of the brothers would def make a big deal out of it, and punishments could be dished out. Idk if they'd be the kinky kind this time man. If Mc and Belphie don't get caught he'd hide the wet stain on his pants from his mess with his little cow pillow, then after dinner he'd head up to the attic or follow Mc to their room. He's got pay back to give and then cuddles are deserved. Truthfully I don't think Belphie would mind it happening again, I could see him honestly just liking Mc keeping him awake at random times by edging him, and meals would be one of those times.

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Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Sorry some of these aren't as great as others, I just spaced out writing each one too much. Do you guys want a version of this where it's the brothers doing something to Mc during a meal? Let me know if so. Anyways more content is coming soon so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Groovy Scooby! ♡

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springtyme · 1 month

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 ♡

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

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

word count: 7.4k

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

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

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

“I’m Carmen… Carmen Berzatto.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

· · · · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He doesn’t look dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Suspended license.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can say that again,” Ms. Chore

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

· · · · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’d do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

@wittyno @eternallyvenus @eddioto

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angelbarelywrites · 2 months

Text

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, House of Wax, Halloween, Hannibal, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, slashers (general), DBD

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair, Micheal Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of blood/violence

The most random array of characters. All 5 are my bfs tho. Also this is written very very informally because it was originally just for myself lol.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire//

> approximateplotofthe movie. jpeg

> honestly you mind your own business once you realize it’s a doll but assume there’s cameras so mostly behave

> you find yourself naturally coddling his doll like a real child when you’re bored, speaking to him constantly

> even though you’re not doing much to upset him, weird things do start happening around the house

> he mostly wants attention

> you leave a note one day

> “dear brahm’s ghost; i’m sorry if i’m not doing a good job as a nanny. i’m really trying my best. I hope we can be friends”

> he scribbles a smiley face on it and you’re a little freaked out / excited

> when he finally shows himself you’re really stunned. but it makes more sense than a genuine ghost

> you’re in such shock that you just. keep going with the evening and make dinner.

> but even once you come to your senses, you end up more sad than scared

> “…they left you all alone. I’m so sorry.”

> he gives you puppy eyes

> “…I won’t do that to you. I promise. I’m staying.”

> he’s even more in love with you than he first thought. even if you’re going to make him shower six times before bed.

> to his chagrin you don’t help him bathe

> but you do kiss him goodnight

Vincent Sinclair//

> bo brings you to him

> at first he’s making some big deal, “special delivery” and all that

> you’re cute

> really cute

> and bo clearly knew you’re the kind of person vincent would like

> but he’s still got a job to do

> damn it

> “h-hey- wait- i can help you—?”

> that makes him hesitate

> “i’m an artist too. i can help with the sculptures. “

> …

>“i’ll be good. promise.”

> he didn’t need much more convincing than that

> bo is surprised he kept you but makes damn sure you’re not escaping

> but you don’t even try because you just feel so deeply for vincent, and he’s so gentle

> you weren’t lying about being an artist so you’re genuinely helpful

> he falls madly in love when you help him resculpt his mask

Micheal Myers //

> Meet because you wrote letters to him

> Not to interview him or as an obsessive fan

> At first out of curiosity, then as a sort of way to vent, because he never responds

> But as it turns out your letters are the only ones he keeps or even opens at this point

> So his psychologist wants you to meet him to see if you can get him to open up- of course there’s a cash incentive

> He doesn’t say a word from the other side of the glass.

> Obviously.

> But you treat it like a normal visit to a friend and just chat mindlessly a while

> And you’re so much tinier and cuter in person

> He wants to stab you so much

> But realizes that if he killed you, he might miss you

> Ew that’s a scary thought

> Still wants to make you scream tho uwu

> He escapes

> Because he’s Micheal Myers that’s what he does

> After his spree he finds himself in your house, bloodsoaked and honestly not all that sure what he’ll do when he sees you

> You don’t even scream, just give a tiny ‘eep’

> “…Micheal?”

> He regrips his knife so he can get it over with. You’ll just tattle

> “Oh gosh- you’re soaked from the rain. And all that blood-let’s get you a shower? I can get you some fresh clothes too,”

> He’s staring down at you in disbelief

> “…what? You thought I’d try and call the cops? I like talking to you.”

> There’s something very wrong with you

> It’s kind of hot

> He puts him knife away and follows you

Hannibal Lecter//

> you’re his patient lol

> at first he doesn’t have much interest in you outside of work

> but god, you’d be such a perfect subject to manipulate with that little authority figure problem you have

> and even though you’re young

> you do recognize some of the finer things in life

> mostly his artwork and cooking. you’re really good at inadvertently stroking his ego

> he starts diving into darker subjects in therapy

> you’re a bit of a morbid person under the sunshine-y exterior

> perfect

> he’s still chipping away at something big you’re keeping from him

> he could do some digging online and through your files but where’s the fun in that

> he gets you tipsy and then starts with the psycho babble

> you finally crack

> you killed some guy that was stalking you years ago

> god that’s hot

> you liked it, at least a little bit

> even hotter

> you licked the blood off your hands and it tasted good

> he’s in love ; good luck leaving

Thomas Hewitt //

> car trouble! it’s always car trouble

> honestly when you rock up to the gas station alone Luda Mae is thinking that it’s a shame the fridge at home is already full

> but you’re the sweetest little customer

> “your name is really pretty ma’am. ever since i was little i decided if i had a daughter, her name would be Audrey Mae”

> new plan, she’s playing matchmaker

> there’s just something about you that’s so gentle

> and mildly off-putting, like the rest of the family

> she brings you out to the farm to see if they have the car parts you need

> and to stay the night, if you really need to

> you run smack dab into Thomas in his old half mask walking in- even Luda expects you to recoil at the least

> instead you turn a bit pink

> “oh gosh- I’m so so sorry sir-“

> Thomas stares at you

> You just shyly introduce yourself, talking enough for both of you

> Luda Mae is already planning the wedding

> “That’s my youngest Tommy- why don’t you show em around? Alright baby?”

> Thomas is a bit hesitant but you’re so little and cute and smell so good—

> He’s already obsessed oops

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fyodere · 9 days

Text

omegle sexting with Fyodor. ♡

midnight confessions.

“ I hope nobody catch us

but i kinda hope they catch us ”

— LES

﹙ 🦇 ﹚── parings: fyodor dostoevsky x fem!reader ♡

₍^. .^₎⟆ ── content warnings / tags : nsfw content (mdni), college!au, fyodor is mean, nasty absolutely filthy smut, reader is a freshman, fyodor uses the pseud ghost face online, light corruption kink, sexting, petnames, degradation, fyodor is a sadic, dirt talk, light dom/sub dynamic, implied catholic guilt, fyodor is a creep perv ♡

﹙ 🔪 ﹚── synopsis : Why you were still awake? It was the middle of the night, and the student dormitory rested in the silence of the moonlit hours. However, your insomnia and a restless curiosity propelled you into the vastness of the internet. Your idea was curious but fitting for the moment. You decided to venture into anonymous chat sites, just like you used to do in your adolescence. Maybe that would be enough to make you sleepy.

Of course, there was a chance you would encounter a creep in those forums. But at this point, who cared? The night was incredibly boring; you needed to take the risk, needed to seek excitement.

﹙ 🩸 ﹚── author's note : GUESS WHOS BACKKK i wrote this listening to my late night texts playlist so the content here is JUICYYY i can’t get enough of pervy fedya content so HERE I AM also i had the idea to write this thanks to this one fyodor fanart i hope you enjoy it <3

2:27 am

You huffed, pulling your blanket up to your nose. You turned, in an act of courage, to your clock, hoping you had seen the time wrong. But no. Oh, no! It was still the middle of the night. Your body was exhausted, but your mind was racing, processing many thoughts that could cross your mind.

You shouldn't be awake. It was late at night, and college life was wearing you out. Amidst books and assignments, you found yourself immersed in a sea of responsibilities that seemed never-ending. The dark circles under your tired eyes betrayed the sleepless nights and quick naps during classes. But on that night, even though you knew you needed rest, something kept you awake. Perhaps it was the anxiety about the unfinished final project, or the feeling that time was slipping through your fingers. Lying in bed, you wondered if sacrificing your sleep and health for academic success was worth it. In the silence of the night, you reflected on your choices and questioned if this was truly what you wanted for your life.

In the quiet of the room, the faint moonlight revealed a common scene: scattered notes, open books, and tired eyes staring at the ceiling. No one should be awake at that hour. Not your senior, Dazai, or Atsushi. And even if they were awake, who are you to disturb them? Amid tight deadlines and academic pressure, you navigated through the nighttime challenges, seeking balance between dreams and reality. As the hours passed, reflections on the price of knowledge intertwined with the desire to overcome the limits imposed by fatigue.

You looked around your room; it was a mess. You sighed again, letting the air oxygenate your brain, begging for a bit of patience. Then, with a head full of thoughts, you had an idea.

You stealthily walked to your small desk, where your laptop was. You picked it up and took it to bed, lying down comfortably and turning on the monitor, letting the screen light up your room.

Why you were still awake? It was the middle of the night, and the student dormitory rested in the silence of the moonlit hours. However, your insomnia and a restless curiosity propelled you into the vastness of the internet. Your idea was curious but fitting for the moment. You decided to venture into anonymous chat sites, just like you used to do in your adolescence. Maybe that would be enough to make you sleepy.

Of course, there was a chance you would encounter a creep in those forums. But at this point, who cared? The night was incredibly boring; you needed to take the risk, needed to seek excitement.

The computer screen became your window to the unknown. You saw each conversation as a calculated risk, a word game unfolding in the cyber twilight. Amid anonymous profiles and shared stories, You navigated between fascination and caution, aware of the thin boundaries separating adventure from recklessness.

In the early morning, where the boundaries between the real and the virtual fade, you became a solitary explorer, guided by curiosity and drawn to the digital enigmas the night revealed.

You shouldn't be awake. In the stillness of the night, you decided to venture into the depths of the internet, exploring the nightly dangers hidden in virtual shadows. Alone in your room, the faint light of the monitor revealed your curious expression and a glint of audacity in your eyes. Navigating through chat rooms and forums, you connected with strangers, engaging in conversations echoing secrets and unknown stories.

Cautious but driven by the quest for new experiences, you explored this digital world on the fringes of convention. The keyboard keys echoed in the silence, creating a fragile link with distant strangers. Each typed word carried a hint of mystery and vulnerability as you danced on the tightrope between curiosity and the risks hidden in the cyber darkness.

Amid digital shadows, you found a strange sense of freedom, challenging the boundaries of the unknown in an attempt to break the monotony of the night.

However, behind the screen, uncertainty loomed like a constant shadow. You, intoxicated by virtual adrenaline, realized that the price of nocturnal boldness on the internet could be high. Caution became a necessary ally as you navigated the turbulent waters of virtual relationships, aware that not everything shining in the darkness is safe.

Yet, curiosity and the thirst for something exciting flowed in your veins.

You entered another forum, using a random nickname for identification. No one needed to know it was you. Eager to start a conversation, you initiated the chat.

You: well well, what’s up?

I didn’t took long to the stranger reply.

Stranger: You know what? Nothing much. Just killing some time talking to strangers. You just can’t sleep, huh?

You: yeah. always come here?

Stranger: Not always, but enough to recognize the other regular people chatting here. You must be new.

You: oohh smooth ;) how did you know?

Stranger: You can recognize a newbie a mile away. No one talks this open and nice.

Stranger: You seem to have caught my attention. What is your name?

You: you mean my real one?

You: mhmm… isn’t dangerous tell my name online?

Stranger: Smart girl.

The simple praise made you cover your mouth with your hands, you were blushing.

Stranger: Ahh, I like this one. You see, you are right, the internet is dangerous, but we, people who frequent those websites, are even more dangerous.

Stranger: but I can find your location in one hour, so what is the harm to give me your name, sweetheart?

You: playing dangerous, hm? I like that ;)

Then you told him your name.

Stranger: Ah? Cute name, fits such cute creature.

Stranger: You can call me Ghost Face for now.

You let out a nasal laugh. How could he be so cheeky?

You: im glad that you like it, pretty boy

Stranger: Pretty boy, huh? If people could hear you, they might think that I am some kind of lady magnet.

Stranger: Maybe I shouldn’t be enjoying this so much.

You: Oh? Why not, Ghost Face?

Stranger: Ah, you are such a tease. I can’t imagine what secrets you are hiding, but now, I am even more interested in you. What a dangerous girl.

Stranger: Flatter me more, pretty girl. I'll play along with your mind games for some more time.

You chuckled, feeling your cheeks warm again. Whoever was behind that screen, that person knew how to get reactions out of you.

You: mmm… smooth, yeah?

Stranger: You little vixen.

Stranger: You know it. But, to my surprise, you might be smoother than a snake. I wonder how many guys you make blush?

You: ah, not that many. I’m pretty lonely at college

Stranger: Lonely at college? Now that is surprising. I thought that you should have boys chasing you. You must be really shy, huh?

You: uhhh kinda…

You: you’re a good people reader

Stranger: You know, I really do like your attention. You are really making my night, pretty girl. And don't worry, I'm not a people reader. But I am really good at reading you.

You: smooth as always, Ghostie, hm?

You: Ghost, are you in college too?

Stranger: Yeah.

Stranger: I major computer science and work remotely.

You: really?

You: tell me more about you work

Stranger: Well, to be totally honest with you, it is a shady kind of job. I work with some not so nice people with even nastier interests.

You: ah… so Ghost Face is a bad boy, huh? tell me more about it

Stranger: You caught me, pretty girl. I am a bad boy, not going to deny it. I do all kind of thing related to computers and technology. Things that many would consider illegal.

Stranger: Let's just say I help people getting information that should stay hidden.

You: mhmmm… that explains why are you so smooth

Stranger: Thank you, pretty girl. I like the way you compliment me. You are really making my night, you know? Would you like to know the other reason I am smooth?

You: yeah? tell me, Ghostie

Stranger: Damn. You really do want to hear it, don’t you? I know you are very innocent right now, but be careful of what you wish for. You might not be ready for what you are going to hear.

Stranger: You know, in a world of deception, people like me find it hard to trust someone. But I trust, for some weird reason, you. So there is one important question that I want you to answer. It will be an important step to show me how much I can trust you.

Stranger: Do you have a boyfriend?

You: no ;)

You: mhmmm… it’s kinda late

Stranger: Yes, it is late, and you have no excuse for your misdeed. If I was your boyfriend I would never let you be alone when it is this time. You would be with me all night, in my room. You would not be up late talking to strangers on anonymous sites.

You: oh, Ghost… you’re making me soaked, mm?

Stranger: Oh, darling, is it starting to feel hot between us? You know what I would do if I was your boyfriend in this very moment?

You: mhmmm… tell me

Stranger: You want to know? Well, darling, first, I would whisper all my naughty thoughts to your ear. I would tell you all the things people would say are gross. And I would kiss you all over your body. I would make you feel good, in places you would not dare to touch.

You: oh, Ghost…

Stranger: Oh, dear, I am gonna give you attention like you deserve it. You are only my girl and I will make it very clear. I will show you the pleasures of the world so you only think of me. I will give you so much pleasure I hope you never want to leave my side.

You: Ghost…

You: I think you should give me your real number

You: so we can go more private yk

Stranger: Oh!

Stranger: Sure.

Stranger: You can call me Fyodor. ;)

After Fyodor sent his number, you quickly added it to your contact list and promptly began typing the next message, longing for contact with the enigmatic boy behind the screen.

You: Fyodor

You: can I call you?

Fyodor: Sure, I would love to hear your voice.

You quickly called Fyodor, who promptly answered.

“ … Hello?” You said slightly unsure of having called the boy.

Pretty girl... You are the cutest thing. Fyodor thought.

“Oh, oh, you sound so sweet, darling.” Fyodor said. “Your voice is soft and gentle. You sound like the kind of girl a man would want to listen to all day long. You make me feel things, sweetheart.” He said after a deep breath. “Please, can you tell me where you are right now, dear? Are you in bed?”

“Yeah, I am.” You replied.

“Please, let me know how the bed feels... Are you comfortable? Does it feel nice to have the bed all for yourself? I would love to be in bed with you...” He chuckled.

“Mm… my bed is pretty cozy. The college dorms are not that big, but they are pretty comfortable.” You answered.

“Oh, dear, this is so much better. If I was with you right now, I would want to feel your skin against mine.” Fyodor whispered the last part, leaving you in chills. “Fuck.” He whispered again. “I have to turn down, but we can keep chatting.”

“Okay.” You chuckled, and they got back to the text messages

You: I’m wearing something you might like right now.

Fyodor: Mhm?

Fyodor: Let me see.

You: [Photo] ;)

Fyodor’s eyes widened as he opened the image. It was a photo of you wearing a light pale lilac blouse that was too loose for your size. It almost covered up to half of your thigh, you weren’t using socks, leaving your legs exposed. Fyodor’s throat went dry when he saw you in that state. His face automatically became hot and his heart started to beat faster than usual. How could you have such a big effect on him?

Fyodor: Lord, please forgive me…

Fyodor: But, God, you’re making me feel so fucking weird…

Fyodor: If you were here right now, the things I’d do with you… shit, I’m definitely not seeing the gates of heaven.

Fyodor: I mean-

Fyodor: God, I’m so sorry. I typed without thinking first.

You: No!

You: It’s okay

You: I was kinda looking for this type of reaction. Lol.

Fyodor: So, my dear, you’re comfortable with this?

You: Yeah!

Fyodor typed for a while. The typing… under his contact made you anxious. What was him thinking?

Fyodor: Let me make you another question. Do you trust me?

He was typing again.

Fyodor: Let me take care of you tonight. it’s too bad I’m not there with you… I can’t get enough of you.

This time it was you the one who was left speechless. Your jaw literally dropped to the floor, you were surprised at how straightforward and bold this stranger man was.

Fyodor: But tell me, what do you like?

You: I don’t know… I never did it before.

Fyodor: Then, how about we find out together?

Fyodor: I want to explore your body if you’d let me. Would you?

You: Go ahead.

Fyodor: Darling, you’re such a fucking tease, you know that? We've only been talking for a few hours and I want to do the wildest things with you. You're making me think the biggest dirty thoughts, you're awakening things in me that I didn't even know could exist. All I can think of is your pretty lips around me.

You: Mmmm…

You: Now you’re making me want it too.

Fyodor: Dear, touch your thighs.

Fyodor: Gently.

Fyodor: God, your hair looks so silky.

Fyodor: I wish I could caress it as you’re on your knees.

You: MMM????

You: fuck

You: I would love to imagine you but I have no idea how you look like :(

Fyodor: Oh. Hold on, dear.

Fyodor: [photo] ;)

Your eyes widened when you opened the image. It was a mirror selfie, Fyodor had long black hair that touched his shoulders. His frame appeared to be lean and well defined. He was wearing sweatpants that highlighted his bulge. This made you salivate. Who knew the pervert from the anonymous website could be so handsome?

You: fuck.

You: you’re so— I can’t even put into words

You: I need you.

Fyodor: I need you too, dear. I crave you.

Fyodor: Darling, are you caressing your thighs as I requested?

You: uhum!

You: I am

You: but I’m feeling itchy down there… :( may you help me?

Fyodor: Oh, of course I will, my darling.

Fyodor: But first I need you to touch your beautiful exposed thighs.

Fyodor: You could see my hands on the picture, right? Imagine my hand on your thighs.

You: your hands are pretty big…

Fyodor: Yeah? Feel them. Feel them caressing you, gripping you, scratching you. Feels good, yeah?

You: you’re making me feel so itchy…

You: I need to touch it, Fedya :(

You: please

Fyodor: Hm? I am the one touching you, dear.

Fyodor: And it’s not time for it yet.

Fyodor: Now, put your hands on your chest. Grip them, feel all the softness

You: fuck

You: I want to scream your name, Fedya :(

You: I need you.

Fyodor: I crave you too, my darling. Watching you like this makes me want to touch myself too… should I?

You: please

Fyodor: My dear, can I call you? I need to heat your voice again.

You: go ahead

You felt your heart race when you saw that Fyodor was calling you. You had already heard the man’s voice a few minutes ago. But now, they were more intimate than ever. You felt your body heat up as you imagined the dirty things Fyodor would say to you in a few seconds.

You promptly answered the phone.

“Dear?” Fyodor said with a husky voice. You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat. “Now, let's get started.” He continued. “Close your eyes and imagine me touching you all over your body, running my hands over every inch of your skin.” Fyodor could hear your deep breath. “Can you feel it? The anticipation building up inside you?”

“Fedya…” You whispered. “Yes, I can feel it. I can feel you. God, I wish you were here with me, touching me, feeling my skin against yours.” You tried to say with more posture, but your voice was cracking with sighs and deep breaths.

“I can't be there with you physically, but we can still explore our desires together in long distance.” He replied. “Close your eyes and imagine my hands on your thighs, slowly moving up towards your hips.” He started to put his hands inside his pants. “Can you feel the warmth of my breath against your skin? The soft touch of my lips on your neck? Can you feel the electricity building between us?”

“Fuck… yes. I can. But I want you down there.”You said with your voice dripping lust.

“You want me down there, do you?” He asked. “I want you to imagine that I'm right in front of you, kneeling between your legs. My hands are running up and down your thighs as my lips press against the most sensitive spot on your body. Can you feel it? The heat building up inside you?” Fyodor smiled when he heard the sloppy sound coming from your line. “Just let go and enjoy the pleasure. Let me take control for a while.”

“I want you to take control of me, Fedya.” You said between deep breaths and dirty whispers. “To fill me.”

“Fuck… I want you to feel every inch of me inside you, filling you up completely.” He answered right after listening to your words. “I want you to touch yourself for me. Imagine that my hands are on your body, touching you exactly how I know you like it.” Fyodor started to caress himself, gripping his manhood. “Can you feel my touch? Can you imagine what it would be like if we were together in person?”

“Yes… I can imagine.” You said after a long sigh, sightly moaning. “But what about you? What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking about how much I want to make you mine. I want to see you writhe with pleasure as I take control of your body and give you everything you've been craving.” He smirked.

“I want to squeeze you.” You confess after a long sigh.

"I'm already rock hard," He admits, his words tinged with desperation. "I need to fuck something, I need to fuck you, right now. I want you to imagine it inside your tight little pussy, fucking you so hard that your walls are shaking, your body trembling with pleasure and pain.”

“Uh, huh. Sure, everything you want, Fedya.” You said biting her lip.

"Good girl," He praises. "Now, I want you to rub your legs together, okay? I want you to imagine my cock in your mouth, sucking on it, and swallowing my load. You're a good little naughty girl, aren't you?"

“Yeah, anything for you!” You said in a more poised voice, doing as asked, becoming dizzy with the wave of pleasure that passes through your body.

"I knew you were a good girl," He says, ready to take things to the next level. "Now, I want you to imagine me fucking you from behind. Imagine me thrusting into your tight little pussy, claiming you as mine. It's hot, isn't it? Keep going as I request, okay?"

“You’re so rough… I love it.” You said between sloppy sounds and moans.

“Oh, dear," He groans, his words laced with arousal. "I am rough, I admit it. I like to dominate and fuck you hard, leaving you sore and begging for more. I want to make you my little bitch. I'll fuck you until you can't walk, until you can't breathe, until you're completely spent and used up."

“Fuck, keep going.” You were almost screaming now.

"You're such a good little naughty girl," He compliments, his words dripping with lust. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, so rough, that you'll feel like you've been through hell and back. I'll leave you bruised and battered, with a hole so raw that even the slightest touch will make you scream in pain. I'll fuck you until you can't take any more, and then I'll make you swallow my cum, filling you up with my seed."

“You want to fill me up?” You said, feeling the wave of pleasure more and more strong going trough you.

"Oh, yes," He grits out, his voice growing more intense. "I want to fill you up with my seed, to mark you as mine, to claim you as mine. I'll fuck you so hard that you'll never forget me, never forget what I did to you. I'll make you my slut, and I'll never let you go. I'll own you, possess you, and break you down, piece by piece, until there's nothing left but a broken shell of a woman." He tries to speak with a more husky voice.

“I— I’m close!” You were almost screaming, with the voice dripping lust.

"I'm about to cum," Fyodor warns, his breathing becoming ragged. "I want to fuck you so hard that your insides are shaking, your body trembling with pleasure and pain. I'll fuck you until you're begging for mercy, until you're too tired to even think, and then I'll make you swallow my cum, filling you up with my seed, making you my cum dumpster, my possession, and I'll never let you go. I'll own you, and I'll destroy you, piece by piece, until you're just a broken doll, a toy for me to play with."

“Mhmmm!” You were moaning for him, inattentive if you would be waking up your colleagues from the student dorm.

"I'm cumming," Fyodor whispers, his words tinged with lust and satisfaction. "I'll fuck you until you're begging for mercy, until you're too tired to even think, and then I'll make you swallow my cum, filling you up with my seed, making you my whore, my bitch and I'll never let you go.”

“Cum for me, Fedya” You said touching your most sensitive spot, yearning for the man’s touch on the other end of the line.

"Ah— fuck, I am cumming," Fyodor confirms, his words echoing with lust and satisfaction. "Here it comes," Fyodor grunts, his words filled with lust and satisfaction. "I'm cumming, imagine me shooting my load into your tight little pussy, filling you up with my seed.”

“F-Fyodor—! Ah—!“ You screamed, imagining everything that he said. The image of Fyodor’s cock was sent along, and as soon as it appeared in front of you, you could feel the sensations of his words rippling through you. Your heart raced with excitement and fear, and you felt yourself begin to shake from the intensity of it all. You gasped, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over your cheeks.

The image of his cock, thrusting into her tight little cunt, made your entire body shudder with pleasure and pain. It seemed to be penetrating you so deeply, and yet you couldn't help but crave more. His words continued to fill your mind, making you feel like a helpless little girl, unable to resist his dominance or his power.

"Mhmmm," He moans, his voice thick with desire as he continues to shoot his load.

“Fuck! This was… fuck. I— I can’t even put into words” You said between heavy breaths.

Fyodor chuckled softly, a sound that reverberated through their connection, sending a wave of heat and desire through your body. He knew exactly what you meant.

He laughed cruelly at your reaction, savoring the moment. He knew that you was struggling to find the right words to describe how you felt, and he found it amusing that you were so overwhelmed by his presence. He wanted you to feel small and vulnerable, to understand that you were nothing more than a plaything in his world.

He grunted again, as if it were determined to claim every last inch of you. The feeling was intense, and it only served to fuel his desire for more.

"Good," Fyodor grunted, his voice still filled with lust and satisfaction. "Because I want you to feel every single bit of what I'm doing to you, and I want you to understand how much I own you now.”

#bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd smut #fyodor smut #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd

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demonvibez · 3 months

Note

BRO I'M A BIG FAN OF YOUR BLOG AND I NEVER KNEW YOU FOLLOWED ME UNTIL I SAW YOUR MAIN WSKCITKEKD

I saw your reply to my post and I was like “hoooly shit how did this cool blog even find me??”

ayeeeee lucifer [: tysm for your compliments + for being my mutual ♡ your posts are always so *chefs kiss* let's have a chat about dia sometime soon 🐉

#ghost chats ♡#avatar0fpr1de #still shocked about ur reveal about dia being ur fave!#welcome to the club tho #we have hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies #and a sexy demon prince with a giant d-#ANYWAYS [:#loved this sm #ps; your req is still definitely on my to-do list ♡

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diaryofaprettyprincess · 6 months

Note

hi sweetie! <3 i was wondering if i can request some fluff (maybe with a smut in the end it’s up to you) with ghost and innocent!girly!reader where ghost got all overprotective over her when some guy is harassing her and she got really scared and anxious? feel free to ignore if you don’t feel like writing this! have a wonderful day, sweetheart ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

hi angel!! i hope you enjoy! <3 i didn’t add smut at the end it kinda got more serious i hope that’s okay!!! <33

(sorry if this is bad i wrote it in class KANDK)

(unmasked! ghost)

(this is kinda an au! type of thing so most everything is completely inaccurate to COD)

warnings: blood, slight violence, reader is shorter than ghost, reader is lifted up by ghost, innocent!reader, slightly dark!ghost, possessiveness, size difference (i pinned ghost as 6’6 hehe woops), tattooed!ghost (U WILL NEVER STOP ME)

‎♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

ghost has always been overprotective of you, ever since the day you two met—not just when u guys started dating.

his hands always find their place on ur body, making it known to everybody you were his and only his-and he was yours and wholly only yours.

so when u two went out with price and the rest of the team to a busy bar out in the city, ghost’s hands never once left your body.

even when u two were sat next to each other at the booth, his bulky arm stayed draped over ur shoulder, ur hand fiddling with his big tattooed one as he gave dirty looks to any man that dared to look in your direction.

everything was going smoothly until your small voice made his ears perk— “gotta go to the bathroom, be right back..”

you began to part from ghost’s grasp before he caught ur small hand in his. “do ya need me to go with ya?”

u giggled, blushing slightly. “simon, i don’t need ur help going pee!—ill be right back.”

ghost wasn’t always one for extreme PDA, but he could see the hungry looks of the men at the bar staring at you. and he didn’t like that. not one bit. before u could escape, he adjusted his grip on ur hand to on ur forearm, pulling u towards him as he kissed u possessively.

he heard ur small, surprised yelp as his soft —but bitten lips moved over yours, his tongue beginning to slip into ur silky mouth before u pulled away—face burning of shyness as soap and price looked away, a small smile playing on their lips out of amusement from ur embarrassment and ghost’s act possessiveness.

“love you.” simons gruff voice spoke; a slightly smug smirk playing on his pink lips.

“i love you too.” you spoke quietly biting ur lower lip as butterflies fluttered in ur tummy.

simon watched as u walked away, ur short skirt swaying as u stepped through the crowd.

“obsessed much?” soap chuckled, and price laughed with him.

“yes.” ghost replied shortly, taking a sip of his whiskey and setting it next to your strawberry daiquiri, cool water droplets beading off of ur drink.

three minutes passed and ghost started to feel unease settling in his gut.

turns out, his gut was right to feel that nagging way.

“stop!” through the music and loud chatter of people, he could hear your small voice shout. his heart dropped, and he immediately peeled through the crowd, his height making it easy for him to see over everyone’s head.

a thin man with blonde hair groped at ur body from outside the restroom door of the bar.

“jus-“ the man laughed sickeningly, grabbing ur breast as u tried to squirm away from him, tears streaming down your face. “stop movin’, baby, just wanna feel you.. bet ur nice and tight.” he smacked ur butt, cries escaping ur throat as u tried to gasp for simon’s name but nothing came out of your mouth as u shut ur eyes tightly. maybe this was a dream—maybe the man would go away—just maybe.

ghost’s body filled with an unimaginable amount of rage, and from the corner of the room, konig (who was drinking and leaning against a wall chatting up an older woman), confusedly looked at simon as the wall blocked his view of you.

he knew that deadly look in his friend’s eyes when he saw it.

shit.

loud thunks of simon’s combat boots pounded on the ground as he ripped the disgusting man off of you, his height towering over the man.

he could see the way you cried, eyes shut and whimpering as you choked on your sobs.

“hey!” the man shouted, right before ghost smacked his head into the wall; ghost’s fists colliding with the man’s face.

anger crawled throughout his body as he almost went on autopilot, the man’s face bloody and battered as simon repeatedly punched him.

punch, punch, punch—

“ghost!” price barked, trying to pry simon off of the man. “ he’s done, ghost. enough!”

your eyes peeled open as you cried, gasping as you saw the mess of a face of the man that assaulted you. his nose crooked as it took konig, price, soap, and gaz to pull simon off of the limp man.

the bar was quiet besides the music and ur little cries. blood splotched simon’s knuckles as he breathed heavily.

the man on the ground groaned, and simon almost broke through the grasp of his team behind him before the cloud of anger subsided when he heard your small, “s-simon.”

stepping on the man’s leg, simon’s large, bruised hands cupped your face, your eyes glossy with tears.

“cmon.” he spoke gruffly, holding you against him as you both made your way out of the bar to the back alley where it was quiet.

“i-“ you choked on a sob as ghost pulled you to him, his large frame dwarfing yours as he shushed you, kissing the top of your head.

“no one’s gonna hurt you like that again. i would’ve killed him—“ his accent was thick as his grip on you tightened. he took a deep breath.

you sniffled into his warm chest, ur arms wrapped around him tightly.

“are you okay?” he asked after a moment of listening to your small weeping cries.

you nodded. “‘m okay now, just scary ‘s all..” you hiccuped, and simon easily picked you up to be closer to you. you nestled your face into his neck, his large hand rubbing along your back.

“i should’ve been there.” he spoke quietly.

you sniffled, pulling away from his neck to look at him. “you didn’t know, ‘s okay.”

simon didn’t say anything, he just adjusted you in his grip and wiped the tears from your face gently with his calloused thumb.

you kissed his lips gently, giggling when he sucked on your lower lip tenderly.

simon’s body warmed at the sound.

he always knew immediately when he met you that he would kill for you.

and this night just proved that further.

he would do anything for you.

anything.

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kedsandtubesocks · 2 months

Text

dance away your cowboy blues

Country Singer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: who knew the man with the voice of an angel could break your heart this bad?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern/no outbreak AU & Joel has both his daughters, exes to lovers with eventual husband!Joel, angst followed up by good sweet fluff, concert venue, light drinking mention, Joel being stubborn & bad at feelings, hints of spice, fools in love, reader is addressed as ‘honey, darlin,’ use of song lyrics in fic, Pearl Jam & Taylor Swift song mentions, soft & heartbroken!Joel, lovesick!Joel

word count: 6k

a/n: here we are - the last installment in our ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series & I’m so incredibly grateful to finally make it here, also this is my mini tribute to our boy and his SAG award! The main song Joel sings is this one and I highly recommend! Thank you to my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you for letting me scream about plot holes & aiding my Joel brainrot, @tightjeansjavi for always being down to chat about Joel, and to @lowlights & @ahauntedcowboy for being my ever guiding forces for this series, thank you all… And finally to you reading this, thank you so much ♡

A year ago, Joel broke up with you on a warm early spring morning.

He arrived at your apartment, sat you down and shattered your world. You felt every range of emotion as he simply stood there like a man of steel.

So upset and angry, you wanted to rip your heart out and throw it at him.

Then later that week you found out his record was officially getting picked up and you crumbled.

Ending your relationship simply because he was about to step into true proper fame - you never took Joel to be a man so somberly callous. However, you began wondering if that’s what fame sometimes did to people.

When curiosity gnawed too hard, you’d Google him or even check Spotify. Simply catching glimpses of how big he’s gotten sent you spiraling. Last Thanksgiving, your favorite aunt threatened to lock your phone away when she found you upset in the bathroom after discovering Joel was performing at the Dallas Cowboys holiday game.

From that point on you refused to even check any amount of social media or update on him.

A few clunky first dates and a couple of ghosting experiences later, you’ve now decided to simply work on yourself and embrace the selfcare of being single.

It’s why when your best friend called you earlier today eagerly explaining how her parents had extra tickets to the Rodeo tonight, she playfully teased how she knew you didn’t have anything planned for this Saturday night.

You almost hung up on her, but you excitedly scrambled to get ready.

Now the smell of fried foods, popcorn, and beer cloud the air. The fairgrounds hold a chaotic but controlled lively energy. You never knew so many cowboy hats could exist in one space.

Once you meet up with your best friends' parents, you’re transported to a whole new area you never believed could exist during a rodeo. Lux and cozy, the VIP lounge gleams with its elevated experience. You knew your best friend’s mom worked for the construction company managing the arena. You just didn’t realize how big of a hookup it was. The VIP tickets allowed for full premium dining along with a couple of free drinks.

More importantly - it came with the best concert seats.

“In the dirt” is how they’re described because the tickets are literally stationed on the floor, in the dirt of the rodeo stadium, right by the stage.

Ecstatic and bubby energy now fills you. The food being served is divine and you gladly enjoy the free various drinks.

“So wait, did we figure out who’s performing?” You ask curiously while you lounge taking advantage of the nice seating area.

“Uh, I think my dad said it’s that band named Midland is performing today.” Your friend answers but then is quickly pulled away to meet more of her mom’s coworkers.

You’ve never heard of the band, but for a free concert you’re open to enjoy some live music.

It’s a trait you gained from Joel.

Because of him you grew to love music performances, the energy that comes with hearing the band, being among the hum of the crowd. The trips around Austin seeing not just him perform, but enjoying other concerts with him, let you appreciate and admire live shows.

Waiting for the concert allows you to enjoy some of the actual rodeo event. But the main performance of the evening soon arrives.

“You kids go enjoy! We’re getting a little too old and are just gonna stay back and enjoy the free food.” Your best friend’s mom grins with a wink.

The ticket advertisement wasn’t joking when it said close to the stage. The ground level truly sits on the dirt floor. The arena swallows you whole surrounding you like a strange fishbowl. A small crowd already lines the front railing closest to the stage. However sneakily you find a nice open spot by the side that gives a clear sight to the stage.

Even if you don’t know the band, giddiness bubbles in you electric.

You take in the massive general admission floor section already packed full. The band must be popular. So you take plenty of pictures and happily enjoy the time with your dear friend.

The lights dim and excitement crackles in the air. The stage lights up. The large backdrop screens on the stage flutter to life beginning to showcase different picturesque black and white shots of Texas.

Midland, you remember, is a city in Texas so the images make sense. A low strum of a guitar begins playing. The melody dances soft but in a quick beat, a hypnotic tune trying to rev up the crowd.

The tune brews up its intended magic that you even get swept up in the anticipation. The sound gets faster and the strumming is rather simple but so striking.

Then the music stops. Suddenly the lights of the entire stadium shut off. Wild galvanized screams erupt.

The lights brilliantly dance forth back to light. They all focus now on the performer who, like magic, now appears on the stage with the rest of the band.

And the lead singer is Joel.

Your knees almost give out.

Dressed in the most dangerous plaid green button up, it so simple yet beautifully compliments him. More grays pepper his beard and highlight his tousled curls. The brilliant stage lights bask him in a heavenly glow.

Your soul momentarily leaves your body the minute his voice sings his first note.

Instantly your best friend whips towards you panicked. She rapidly screams asking if you’re okay as she apologizes over and over.

“My dad must have gotten the dates wrong! God I should’ve fucking doubled checked or some shit!” She cries deeply apologetic and hurt.

You earnestly tell her it’s not her fault and it’s alright. It was just an unfortunate mixup.

“Do you wanna leave?” Your friend leans closer to you. Her eyes shine understanding and considerate. “We didn’t pay for these tickets and I promise you my parents will completely understand. We can say fuck it and bounce.”

You haven’t even completely processed it’s Joel. It’s like your brain went cloudy and now blinking out of the fog, your eyes return to the stage.

Joel isn’t an extroverted man. He’s reserved, quietly charming, even holds a gruff but poised grace. But right now, he’s an absolute sun on the stage. He’s radiant, naturally swaying to the music while singing his soul soul.

Maybe it’s the piece of you still horribly in love with him, or just the curiosity to see how this goes, whatever it is - you shake your head no.

“We can stay.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide as saucers hearing your answer.

“Are you sure?” She presses and you nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s stay. Afterwards we can laugh about how old he’s gotten.” You laugh bitterly about him looking more aged even after a year.

When truthfully the stronger wrinkles around his face, the vibrant grays, all of his aging only intensifies his striking looks.

A canyon wide sized hole rips through your heart.

The song flutters to an end and the crowd claps with a thunderous roar. With a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder your dear friend nods then turns back to the concert.

You pray this isn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.

Then Joel speaks.

“Howdy everyone,” his voice is still so devilishly thick and smooth as a shot of moonshine. His accent does his home state proud. The crowd absolutely adores him, screaming loud just hearing him speak.

“Thank y'all for comin’ out tonight. I’m Joel Miller and m’here to sing y’all a few songs.” So simple, casually eased, and it’s so Joel.

His gruff southern charm made you fall in love with him so fast and now it’s a unique brand of magic charming everyone under his spell.

Joel strums a few notes, rapidly shifting the tune and transitions into the next song.

You now fully soak in Joel.

He seems otherworldly, a god of music reincarnated as a Texan cowboy. You think back to the days sitting in his living room and listening to him play. You were honored to see that side of him, to hear him strum to life so much magic.

During the holiday’s Joel’s daughters, Ellie and Sarah, would often pester him to sing silly songs. He’d grumpily obliged but you knew he basked in their attention and love.

He loved to sing. You always knew he was destined for the stage like it was woven into his veins.

You still remember the day one of Joel’s acoustic performances blew up online gaining so much attention. The excitement and absolute joy you felt then still lingers in the corners of your heart. Although, those feelings have been gathering cobwebs.

There’s of course a bitterness seeing him, but also, an unbearably small twinkling pride knowing he’s here living his dream. The song finishes and again the stadium rumbles in applause.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Joel asks and your heart jumps hearing his voice again.

The crowd cheers back at him.

“Good good, let’s keep it goin’.” He yells back and then strums the guitar sharp.

That’s when the stage slowly starts moving.

It’s slow but with the surprise purpose to look out to the entire crowd. For some reason you almost laugh thinking of that man, who couldn’t even remember how to FaceTime on his ipad, on a full rotating platform.

However, the lyrics start and you realize he’s singing a heartbreak ballad.

If you’re going out with someone new, I’m going out with someone too…I won’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting drunk but I’d much rather be somewhere with you…

It’s hard hearing him now with how exhilarated the crowd screams at the stage moving. But you try to hear how the rest of the song unfolds.

At the chorus, your throat tightens.

I can go out every night of the week, can go home with anybody I meet, but it’s just a temporary high… ‘cause when I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you

The words sting every inch of you, but you believe it has to be just a simple heartbreak story and isn’t about you, isn’t directed at you. Yet the words feel like sharpened edges of a broken mirror that seem to reflect every moment of your time with him.

Then the stage rotates to your side of the floor.

There’s no way he can see you or will even spot you. There’s a whole crowd stretching before him. You’re just a fish in a sea of fans.

Joel continues strumming, allowing his voice to so beautifully carry the emotion.

The stage, in its slow movement, is now front and center to your line of sight. Some girls at the very direct front of the railing scream and wave frantically at him.

A small smile tugs at Joel’s lips as he waves back. Joel’s eyes scan the rest of the crowd -

And that’s when he spots you.

Quickly, you rationalize he could be staring out behind you at someone else alongside the side railing.

But Joel’s eyes even narrow trying to focus more. Your gaze stays on him, like something inside of you refuses to waiver.

His eyes flicker with realization then turn into full moons.

He knows it’s you.

Joel continues singing the chorus but emotions cloud his face. His brows are furrowed hard, almost confused like he’s trying to really comprehend what’s going on.

You understand. You’d be so confused too if you were in his position. You’re still even baffled as to why you stayed in the first place.

The stage starts shifting back to the main center direction

But Joel cranes his face to the side, refusing to have his eyes leave.

His focus stays on you.

It’s obvious enough that your best friend now shakes your body.

“Is he staring at you?!” She tries to whisper but she ends up partly screaming.

You think maybe it’s a hallucination.

Yet Joel’s deep inky eyes stubbornly stay locked on you as he sings now.

If you see out on the town and it looks like I’m burning it down, you won’t ask and I won’t say… but in my heart I’m always somewhere with you…

Your world twists warped, melting into a sea of so many emotions you can’t stay afloat.

Joel finishes his song and the crowd enthusiastically cheers. Yet, it sounds muffled as a numbness crawls over you like a thick soupy fog.

You should leave. You need to. But you’re here now. And decide to see the end of this. If he’s singing about someone lingering within him, then you might as well make true to those lyrics.

Joel lowers his face for a moment and shakes his head. The mic faintly picks up his cough of a disbelieving laugh and your heart sinks.

“Alright folks, let’s jam.” He announces composed and brings his guitar to life.

He’s beautiful walking around with it. Strums effortlessly until he shifts from one guitar, his classic, to a more sleek all black styled one.

Joel lets the music and band take over while he makes the switch. He also leans in to whisper something to the stage hand.

Then as if nothing, Joel steps back into the limelight and illuminates the stage.

He walks around freely now that the stage stopped rotating. The current song is lively with a great beat and you hate how badly you want to bounce around to its infectious sound and the way Joel’s voice elevates the tune.

Caught up in the melody, you don’t notice until it’s too late. Joel walks over to the side of the stage directly facing you.

The guitar carries a large piece of this song’s bridge allowing his eyes to flicker across the crowd.

Until they return to your gaze. Stuck in his stare, Joel suddenly cocks his chin towards you.

Most of the crowd around you screams at his simple action. Even your best friend yells out a loud ‘holy shit’ but you stay quiet.

Not knowing how to react, all you do is stupidly shrug.

It’s awful, not even the best reaction you can give.

But Joel barks a laugh, a true laugh that thankfully happens at the tail end of the song, but your knees go weak.

You made him laugh.

On stage.

Heartache finds its way back into your system fiercer than ever and it poisonously tastes of adoration as well.

Joel transitions into another song. This time moving around the stage more towards the other side.

Yet, either his eyes flicker back to you, or he ends up walking to your section.

A part of you wonders if he’s doing this now to mock you, almost showing off how good he is knowing you’re here. You don’t believe Joel would be that heartless, but you hate how that option still lingers.

“He’s been walking over here a lot.” Someone even behind you even notices.

“Well he is old.” Someone yells back. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep his joints in shape.”

You almost want to snap back that he’s looking damn good for his age and in good enough shape that he kept you bent like a pretzel for practically a whole weekend, but you swallow back the protective bite.

You simply go back to enjoying the show, and it’s fantastic. You can’t deny that. Joel is a performer, keeps the crowd focused and engaged. He isn’t showy or dramatic but takes control of his presence on stage.

You think of the days seeing him at small bars around town, sitting on a stool playing till his heart's content.

Then he booked Stubb’s in Austin and when you watched him own that stage - you knew this was meant for him.

You’re reminded of that so vividly tonight.

“Alright, gettin’ to the end here.” He announces and the crowd sounds heartbroken.

“I know, i know,” he coos back soft and low. “But just wanted to say y’all have been lovely.”

So many shrill shrieks crack in the room and you almost roll your eyes.

Your best friend snickers beside you. “Gotta give it to him, man can work a room.”

She’s right of course. Though it’s still so surprising for a man grumpily reserved and introverted at times.

“This next one I hope maybe some of y’all will know.”

He strums the cords to Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive.’

What gained Joel traction online was his renditions and covers of various songs. He added his own country twang and twist to all the songs he covered.

Pearl Jam happened to be one of Ellie’s favorite bands. A hollow nostalgia rip through you, thinking of the two girls you miss.

The crowd ignites recognizing the familiar rock ballad now turned into the tune of a country song by Joel’s touch. He owns the solo and his husky voice melts into the lyrics beautifully.

Under your breath you sing along. You used to sing along when you cooked breakfast at his place or during drives with him and the girls.

It’s a beautiful fondness, yet one still barbed and so aching.

The song ends with the intense but small burst of fireworks that has the stadium cheering. You even clap.

“Appreciate y’all.” He addresses the crowd. “That’s a one of my daughter’s favorites so always means a lot when I get to play it.”

A smile you can’t fight tugs at your lips at the mention of Ellie.

“Now my daughters, they’re like night ‘n day.” Joel continues and your heart fills up so overwhelming fast for those girls.

“One of them, like I said, loves some Pearl Jam. Now my other daughter…” Joel pauses.

“She’s a big fan of someone by the name of Taylor Swift.”

The crowd absolutely explodes and you think you even feel the arena shake. Sarah honestly was a big fan and Ellie loved to tease her about it so much.

“Normally for this next and final song, I’d play ‘‘shake it off.’” Joel had a few songs of hers that he covered. That one was a fan favorite.

“But tonight, I'm itchin’ to play somethin’ else.” He continues.

You even perk up curious.

“So let’s end this on a high note, yeah? Sing along if you know this one.” Joel concludes.

Then the drums begin and the song bursts to life.

The stadium swims in a dizzying frantic energy.

The way Joel sings, he’s pouring his heart out. He’s memorizing. Utterly heart wrenching.

This is the finale, the end of this strange unreal dream you’ve wandered into. You wonder if he feels it too.

The song’s chilling bridge comes and Joel walks to stare directly at you.

I thought I had you figured out, can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

His eyes never leave yours.

The lyrics sear through your heart. You think about screaming the song to back him. He’s the one who left, the one who’s ghost lives among your ribs.

Then Joel hits the final high note, lets his voice carry the powerful finale, and the crowd roars in earth shaking excitement.

It’s magical, magnetic and utterly devastating in both the best and worst ways. Another few sets of indoor fireworks go off and the show ends.

Joel wishes the crowd a beautiful night and you’re left in a tangled web of emotions.

Your best friend immediately turns to see if you’re okay. While the crowd starts leaving, you and her take a moment. Out of the edge of your focus, you notice a crew member of the arena approaching the side of the rail. You don’t think anything of it.

“Excuse me,” until that crew member stands in front of you on the other side of the barrier.

Blinking absolutely confused you turn towards the man.

“I’ve been asked to escort you backstage.” He explains and your best friend gasps.

You wonder if the ground opened below and dropped you into a free fall.

Quickly you stammer out that you couldn’t. There's no way. Maybe the man must’ve mistaken you for someone else.

“Mr. Miller said you’d say something like that.” The crew member says reaching into his pocket to hand you something.

It’s a keychain.

Not just any keychain, but the one you gave Joel.

It’s a cartoon armadillo, dressed up as a cowboy, holding a guitar. When you first saw it you immediately thought of Joel. His daughters got a kick over it, giggled at how cute it was, and your heart had bursted when you saw it constantly among his keys.

Now the worn little cowboy creature sits waiting for you. It’s sweet marble like eyes stare up at you like a day hasn’t gone by since you gave Joel this.

Your best friend gasps, maybe not fully recognizing the keychain but understanding the significance.

You ask the crew member if your friend can maybe accompany you backstage, but he shakes his head a sad no.

“Then I…I can’t.” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes you can!” She interjects. “You gotta at least hear him out!”

You turn to her and find determination fiercely burning in her eyes as she nods.

“But what about you? I don’t want you or your parents waiting around for me.” You urge.

“Don’t worry about me or especially about them!” She reassures, even offering to wait for as long as you need.

You’re grateful, unbearably so and embrace her tight.

“You call me if he gets stupid. I don’t care backstage or not, I’ll go get you.”

You laugh watery at her well meaning threat and thank her. With a quick sweet goodbye, you follow the crew member along the rails until exiting.

The walk out to the backstage area fills you with a hurricane of emotions. What else could Joel say to you? A part of you wonders if he’s going to be cruel about this, having you simply show up to his dressing room just to laugh so arrogant and smug about how wonderfully famous he is now.

No, Joel isn’t that type of man.

Or you hope fame hasn't warped him into that type of man. Arriving at the green room door, your heart races loud in your ears.

The crew member knocks and before you can compose yourself, Joel opens the door.

He’s bathed in the golden amber light of the backstage room. It highlights all those grays again but also illuminates more of the time passed on his face. More winkles line against his eyes and when he fully stares at you, you wonder how different you might look in his eyes.

A jackrabbit like urge rushes over you to maybe flee, call your best friend to come get you.

“Thanks for comin’,” he mutters out. “Was worried ya wouldn’t show.”

You want to bitterly joke that you didn’t want to, but the armadillo keychain you hang onto holds the truth.

The door closes leaving you and Joel alone. Awkward stale air chokes the space.

You simply keep your attention on examining the room. His classic weathered jacket rests thrown over the couch. The rider is stacked with so many classic Joel snacks like his favorite jerky, popcorn, and even a few familiar favorite treats his daughters love.

Then your eyes catch the mug on the counter and you grin softly.

It must be filled with Joel’s classic drink - chamomile and ginger tea with honey for his throat.

“It’s…yeah. That’s it.”

You didn’t even realize you said anything out loud until Joel replies casuing your heart to jump. Finally your eyes find his.

It's a curse that your greatest heartbreak is this handsome. Exhaustion weighs in you and feels ancient, like if you carry the sum of so many lifetimes before.

“So…You wanted to talk to me?” You speak first, trying to keep yourself strong.

“I…uh yeah.” Answering so cryptically, his shoulders deflate. “How ya been?”

“Good.” You answer simple, curt almost.

There’s too many things that could’ve slipped out if you said anything more. Like how you selfishly kept one of his shirts and hate that the smell of him on it has faded like a wistful memory. Or how you can barely listen to Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash anymore because you’re reminded of Joel singing along to their songs.

So you turn the conversation back to him.

You ask how the girls are and Joel perks up, eyes shimmering with fatherly pride.

“Good, yeah they’re good. Uh, Ellie’s playing softball for the school again ‘n Sarah’s busy with student council. They’re still just bossin’ me all around.”

“As usual.”

You both say the same line at the same time and it chokes you up.

Joel inhales and his lips press tight, a hard line. The air tightens. No one says anything and now annoyance, frustration and maybe even a bit of panic claw at you.

“Joel, why am I here?” You ask him again.

Sighing, so weary and tired, he looks down.

Feels like ages pass between you and him. The faint noise of the stadium leaks into the room muffled.

You think of your best friend waiting and of your own heart waiting to end this.

“Look, it was good to see you,” you half lie. “You did great, hope you and the girls take care”

You turn to walk out.

That’s when he blurts out your name and you stop.

“I miss you.” He exhales.

“Miss ya so g’damn much. Every fuckin’ day.” He mutters.

When you turn back around, he stares at you unwavering. You don’t know what to say.

“Seein’ ya out in the crowd…thought m’heart was gonna give out.” He barks a weak laugh.

“Almost stoppin’ the fuckin’ show just to make sure it was you… y’look beautiful as ever.” His eyes haze over slightly, almost nostalgic.

Suddenly a heated spark rips into your chest, jagged edged and angered.

“You broke up with me.” You snap, voice already raw.

“I know,” Joel nods. “Worst damn decision of m’life.”

Your lips tremble. Everything hurts like a live wire is burning up your veins.

“Then why? Why did you do it?” You croak. You want to scream, maybe even storm out and not even give him the chance to speak.

“What? Did Mr. Big Country Star hate having a partner that wasn’t famous too?” Venom leaks bitter and poisonous in your mouth, choking your throat.

“Y’know god damn well that ain’t it.” He snarls back hard.

“No actually I fucking don’t know Joel.” You reply with a fierce bite. “You so conveniently left out any real damn reason why you were breaking up with me.”

“I said our paths were going in separate directions.” He glares hard at you now.

“And that’s about it!” Your voice raises and you hate it.

The tears come quicker than you hoped for and you hate that more.

“No real explanation,” you exhale, wanting to stay as calm as you can. “You couldn’t even give me that…what else am I supposed to think?”

Even dabbing away your tears, your composure is slowly slipping.

“I couldn’t do this to you,” he breathes out and it’s broken. His eyes are shimmering obsidian pools.

“This life, all the fuckin’ mess that comes with dating someone in the limelight, I couldn’t just throw that on ya.” He explains and the truth rings out a quiet hum.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” You whisper out now hurt. “Joel, I thought we were a team.”

“We are- were.” He slips and corrects himself fast. “I just knew if we fuckin’ talked about it you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Understood what?” You’re frustrated and it leaks into your voice.

“That I didn’t want ya fuckin’ hatin’ me!” He finally screams the weighted truth.

Stunned quiet but still slightly confused, you ask Joel what he means.

Pain travels across Joel’s handsome face as his jaw clenches hard.

“This shit…it takes away a lot.” He croaks out. “Hell I’ve even missed things with the girls. Didn’t want ya sacrificin’ your life or wakin’ up one day and realizin’ how much you’ve lost ‘cause of me…couldn’t let myself do that to you.”

Your chest aches like a rocket got shot into you. You’re angry he took that chance for you to decide, but you understand.

Joel never wants to be the cause of pain to others, especially those he loves.

He agonizes so much over his decisions and how corrupting he believes he is. When in reality every action he takes you know simply stems from his endless deep devotion to keep those he loves safe.

His decision to end your relationship was him, in his own frustrating Joel way, trying to keep you safe. Even if it was from himself.

Your lips tremble and you cuss bitterly hard under your breath.

“You damn stupid man.” You hiccup. “I didn’t…I don’t care what life fame would’ve given me with you. I would never resent you. For better or worse I just wanted a life with you, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Through a few sobs, you wipe the tears fogging up your sight.

Before you can see it happening, strong sturdy arms suddenly wrap around you and shock you breathless. Curled in Joel’s arms, it’s like a sad coming home party and you cry even more.

“M’so sorry, my darlin’.” Joel whispers against your forehead.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Even on your hardest days, you never could.

“I know, hate my fuckin’ ass too.” Joel replies.

His arms squeeze you tighter.

“Never stopped lovin’ you. Never will.” His voice wavers and now your arms wrap around him.

“You left.” You whisper back so small while tears continue to prickle in your eyes.

“I know honeydew, ‘n I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He replies fiercely like a strike of lightning with its bright force. “Been a fuckin’ mess without ya. Tommy would be the first to agree and the girls too.”

You absorb his words, basking in the safe haven that is Joel. Hours, maybe days pass just in his arms.

“Please forgive me, baby.” He whispers hoarse against your head.

You nod a soft yes.

Because even the part of you that wants to yell and stubbornly say no knows the ultimate answer is, and always will be, him.

“Of course…I love you.” You mutter half dazed against his strong chest. “Love of my life.”

Pressed so close to him, you feel how hard he swallows and his arms squeeze you impossibly tighter against you.

He says your name and you hum out a soft noise.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes, which have sort of glazed over, snap open wide.

“What?” You mutter out, maybe think you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Joel repeats himself.

You practically squawk like a confused bird and scramble in his arms.

“Joel Miller, you can’t be serious?!” You shriek through the tears still lingering in your voice.

Your face snaps up to him. His face is composed, almost serene in a way as he look at you with molten eyes.

“Serious as that g’damn ring I bought ya.”

His words are a mumble but so soft and unwavering. Your soul leaves your body like you were thrown into a cold lake.

“You what?” You stammer out.

“Y’heard me.” He nudges his chin to you. “A ring. Bought it after you dropped everything to go take care of the girls when they got sick.”

Too many emotions overwhelm you and the tears return with a vengeance.

Joel, like a steady man in the storm, places his warm hand on your face to gather you back into his embrace. He places the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“We gotta have a chat about discussing your feelings with me more, Miller.” You manage to chide him through your tears.

“I know.” He mutters against your skin while he continues softly kissing you with utter tenderness. “‘N I’m not lettin’ ya go again.”

You squeeze him hard, trying to burn his memory into your arms worried you’re going to wake up and find this is just a heartbroken hallucination.

“Baby,” he begins.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me for the night.” He urges. “The bus got plenty of room-”

“Ooo, is this what you say to all your groupies, Mr. Miller?” You tease with a snort.

“Behave.” His hand playfully squeezes your hip but his underlying somber tone even with his chuckle ignites a familiar heat brewing in you of the times he’s reprimanded you like that before.

“No groupies.” Joel reassures you. “Only you sweetheart, only ever gonna be you.”

His words flutter into your heart and make a nest there.

Gently you draw back to stare at Joel. Your hand moves to his face, aching to just touch him. Even in his arms you’re waiting for him to vanish from your touch as if he’s a figment of your wrecked heart, a ghost of lovers past haunting you now.

But his stubble tickles against your palm. Running warm as usual, his face feels like a soft morning sun. Your thumb strokes his cheek and his eyes close, melting into your hold.

Gently you place a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

Joel now tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss before you can even draw away.

It’s not a consuming passion that you expected. No frantic fierce clash of lips or an overflow from a year passed between you two.

Instead it’s a soft welcome home. It’s a kiss you’ve given him when he’s come home late or when you leave for work.

Because his blood, his soul, you believe are simply stitched into the very fabric of you. It’s like a piece of you is returning back to you, or maybe back to your other home with him.

“So you gonna stay with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I don’t know Miller, you haven’t even offered to sign anything for me. What kind of famous country singer are you?” You smirk against his lips.

He laughs, hearty, a true wild deep one sweeping you into its joy.

“Hell yeah I’ll fuckin’ sign something for ya, our marriage certificate.” He snaps in classic grumpy Joel fashion and you almost think about dragging him to a courthouse.

You text your friend a million apologies and even take pictures of all the signed merch you’re bringing back to her.

Now in the cocoon of Joel’s cozy bed on his tour bus, among the warmth sheets, you hold the ring up in the dim light inspecting it. Because of course your secretly romantic man kept the ring with him.

“You sure you weren’t keeping this around for someone else?” You ask.

“Fuck no.” He growls low. “S’yours…only yours.”

From behind his arms slide around you and you’re encompassed by his swallowing presence. His beard scrapes against your shoulder.

“If ya don’t like it, can get ya another one.” He mutters casually but hesitant softness peeks out from under his gruff tone.

“It’s perfect.” You reassure him.

It’s the ring Joel got you then and it’s the ring you want now and always will. You even tell him that.

The kisses places on your bare shoulder whispers of his devotion.

“Honey.” However, his voice now is hesitant and makes you pause on your ring inspecting.

“I gotta ask…but do ya have my armadillo keychain?” Joel asks with an utter somberness.

You burst out laughing and it shakes your body.

“Honeydew, I’m being serious!” He growls out. “Want that lil’ fella back!”

Wheezing with giggles you lean back against Joel, floating so blissfully floating in renewed adoration.

Twisting in his arms your lips find his.

“Tryin’ to distract me ‘cause you lost him, huh?” He mutters.

You snort, shaking your head.

“No I just love you so much, you dumb cowboy.” You tell him.

“Your dumb cowboy. For better or worse.” He vows, kissing you back firmer now.

“For better or worse,” you nod breathing into him.

In this carved out slightly cramped space it feels holy, sacred, chapel like. You’re even afraid it might be gone tomorrow morning. However, the ring on your finger is the steeled reassurance it isn’t going anywhere.

But, just in case, you gather this glory and Joel into your arms with the promise of never letting go.

#my heart is so full and I can’t thank yall enough I wish country singer Joel could perform for you personally in your living room #let’s rodeo fic series #country singer!joel miller #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller fic #Joel miller fanfic #Joel 🤎

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obsessedduh · 2 months

Text

previous part | next part —> here

cw: mentions of blood, gore, stalking, obsession, peverse and creepy reader, yander intendecies! implied fem reader but I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible!

MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Careless!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who knows yandere!reader is stalking him. he's a military man, he's gonna hear you creep and watch him outside of his window!

simon who knows your the dirty little thief who's been stealing his clothes, mostly boxers. simon who keeps all your stupid notes that you write for him, they're normally weird but sweet in a really, really creepy way.

'si! you looked so pretty in the shower today, played with myself while looking at your pretty cock today! from your secret admirer ♡' you would leave him with a lazy drawing of a heart on his bathroom mirror.

'hey my love, you're finally home...look at the little gift i sent you on your phone!' he cocks an eyebrow, this was different? no, corny heart? no, 'from your secret admirer'? no weird, perverted stuff? just a simple note? that made simon confused, sure - the notes you give him were perverse and weird and should've made anyone who read them feel hella uncomfortable but the fact you didn't write anything odd in this specific note seemed a whole lot more creepy than it normally does.

he shrugs and takes his phone out of his pocket, clicking on the random number notifcation, as per usual, from how many times you've texted him he should really save your number. his eyes widen to see a picture of you, without your usual mask. wait a minute, he remembers you! you're the medic at work.

he couldn't believe it, you!? but your one of the sweetest and innocent people he knows there, in fact maybe even the sweetest. always treating solider's with care. always comforting soliders if they are surfering emotionally or physically. always cheering people up. always having a bright smile on you're no matter how shit the situation is. always putting a smile on people's faces.

he takes a good look at you, sheesh you were so pretty, he's finished staring at your face for a good long while, his eyes shift to the other side of the photo. his eyes shoot wide open again to see you next to a dead body of a blonde woman. a large cut in the middle of her stomach while organs hang out of her. gory much!

he groans out of digust until - wait a minute! he recognises theml? oh yeah, it's the girl from last week, the one who tried to get his number. his wide eyes slowly turn shift back into normal and he smirks and laughs. replying to your messages with:

mylove🤍: Was this out of pure jealously?

you hear a ding in your pocket while trying to dispose of the body. you gasp to see a message from simon, everytime you texted him, he would never reply always leaving you on opened. you were surprised when he actually did reply! you clicked on the notifcation, taking you to your chats. you giggle and immediately you realize how formally he texts, how boring until you finally read it, guess he's just as sane as you.

you: yup

he snickers at your childish reply.

mylove🤍: You gonna do this everytime a girl flirts with me?

you: yup

mylove🤍: Guess I should let girls flirt with me more often then, hm?

your laughed at the text, does he seriously not care that your literally killing people out of pure jealously!? i guess not, he's literally saying he'll let girls flirt with him just so you can slaughter them later.

you: dont tell me u want me to kill more girls for u si?

mylove🤍: Is that not what I've just implied?

you bit your lip at that, your crush is willingly let you kill people for him, it's like your dream come true.

you: i guess ill have continue doing it then

mylove🤍: I guess so.

your heat dropped at the next message he sent you.

mylove🤍: Also did not think you would be the cute medic from work though.

shit!

you forgot to blur out your face...

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

wanna know more about me —> here

masterlist —> here

#🎀 — 𝑶𝑩𝑺𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 #cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader

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wholoveseggs · 4 months

Note

hi! I see you have a bunch of requests so I’m sorry to request but do you think you could write an Elijah angst with fluff ? Like y/n is upset because she thinks that elijah likes Hayley but he’s actually in love with her and has been for centuries but has always been too scared to tell her.

Always

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Upon your unexpected appearance at the compound, centuries after being presumed dead, Elijah has to grapple with feelings he long buried and the consequences that come with it.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) & @vervain3 ♡♡ - I combined all three ideas and made a jealousy triangle {square? circle? idk}~

3k words - Warnings: a little smutty right at the end, drama, angst, jealousy... vaguely refer to events from season 2 & 3... Klaus interfering & loving all the drama (Regina George energy)

It was a rare thing for Elijah Mikaelson to fall in love, but when he did, it was forever. In his one thousand years of living he could count on one hand the number of times his heart had truly belonged to someone else and he could recall, with exact detail, everything about them.

There was Tatia, the first woman he ever fell for, and then there was Katerina, or Katherine, who was a thorn in his side and a constant source of regret.Then Celeste came into the picture, a beautiful and powerful witch, her loss and betrayal still a bitter taste in his mouth.

And then there was you, the brightest light in his dark life. Your face still burned brightly in his memories and your name still danced on his tongue like the sweetest melody. You did things to him that no one else could, dissolving his burdens with just a smile.

You had captured his heart with just one look and he had been yours, mind, body, and soul. He was so in love with you, it hurt.

So when you died, he was shattered, torn apart and left to deal with the pain alone. He would see your face everywhere, haunting him and reminding him of his failure to protect the one he loved. To never be able to tell you how he felt was the most painful thing of all.

Centuries had passed since he lost you, his grief now a dull ache in his heart, but nothing had ever truly made the pain go away.

Hayley's presence in his life mended the broken pieces somewhat, but they were still damaged. His feelings for the hybrid would never be enough to erase the ghost of his love for you.

He accepted being content with what he had, knowing he didn't deserve anything more. That he was lucky to have met his soul mate, even if you were never truly his. To know that true love was real, if not fleeting.

So when he saw you, sitting on the sofa in the courtyard, laughing and chatting with Klaus, his heart stopped. He wondered if he was imagining you again, if his mind was playing a cruel trick on him.

But you turned, your gaze meeting his and the world stopped. He felt his knees grow weak, and his heart race.

You were real, you were here, you were alive.

And you looked just as beautiful as the day he last saw you.

But there was a bit of a problem, he was with Hayley now. You were back and he didn't know how to feel about that.

"Elijah, how long has it been? You look well." You greet him with a smile, pulling him in for a hug.

Elijah hesitated before wrapping his arms around you, inhaling the scent that he had thought he'd never experience again. He couldn't help but hold you a little tighter, afraid that if he let you go, you'd disappear.

"Y/N," he whispers softly.

You pull back, noticing the way his eyes seem to burn brighter, full of emotions you couldn't read.

"How are you? I haven't seen you since..." you trail off.

"Since you died," he finishes, his eyes looking at you curiously.

"Since you left me behind," you corrected him.

Elijah frowned, not understanding what you were talking about. The night Mikael returned, you were killed and your body burnt, at least, that's what Klaus had told him.

"Klaus said you were killed, we didn't have time to retrieve your body."

You shake your head. "That wasn't me, he was mistaken."

"So where were you?" he asked, still unable to believe you were really here.

"Here and there," you said with a smile, none of that mattered now.

You always had a soft spot for Elijah, when you first met him and his family, you found him to be so stoic and melancholic. You delighted in making him laugh, his smile lighting up his whole face and giving him the air of youth and carefreeness that you knew he had buried deep within him.

Nothing ever happened between you, he tended to fall for more serious types. But you never stopped loving him, he was always going to be the one you couldn't forget.

"You're as bad as Niklaus," Elijah said, chuckling lightly.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you grinned.

You were interrupted by a beautiful brunette with stunning hazel eyes, she walked up and placed her hand on Elijah's shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Y/N, this is Hayley," Elijah introduced, his hand going to rest on her back.

Of course, you thought. She was exactly his type, beautiful and fierce.

You gave her a small smile, shaking her hand.

"How do you know Elijah?" she asked, curious.

"We met a very long time ago, in another place," you answered, giving Elijah a sidelong glance. "In another life."

Hayley looked between the two of you, sensing there was more to your relationship than you were letting on. She wasn't going to let you anywhere near what was hers.

"What brings you here? To New Orleans, I mean?"

"I heard the original family has settled here and I wanted to catch up with old friends," you replied. "But mostly, I'm just passing through,"

Hayley frowned, "old friends," she repeated, her hand tightening around Elijah's shoulder.

She had only just met you, but already, she knew she didn't like you. You seemed to have a permanent smirk on your face that reminded her of Klaus, and that made her distrust you instantly. And the way Elijah was looking at you made her feel uneasy, she had never seen him look so...happy.

"Oh," Elijah's expression faltered, his disappointment barely noticeable. "You're leaving?"

"Well, I don't want to overstay my welcome," you joked, your eyes flickering to Hayley's.

"How about you join us tonight for dinner," Klaus said, walking up and joining the group, he always knew exactly how to make an awkward situation worse. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

You gave him a small smile. "Sure,"

When you arrived for dinner, you were surprised by the amount of people Klaus had invited. It was a bit of a relief, it would mean that you didn't have to be alone with Elijah and Hayley.

Klaus stood at the head of the table, making introductions, there were a number of vampires and werewolves present, including a werewolf alpha named Jackson and a handsome vampire named Marcel.

You greeted them all politely, before taking a seat next to Marcel.

"Y/N, this is my dear friend Marcellus," Klaus greeted, "you two have a remarkable amount in common."

Marcel smiles, "hello, beautiful."

"Hi," you smiled back, your eyes lingering on his, he had a killer smile and a charm to him that was difficult to resist.

You were glad to have someone to talk to, you could tell Marcel had a great sense of humor and you enjoyed his company. You also found yourself attracted to him, he was definitely your type.

"So, how do you know the Mikaelsons?" Marcel asked, a little confused. "I didn't think they had any friends outside their family,"

"Klaus turned me centuries ago, when they were hiding out in my town." You explain, taking a sip of your wine. "They needed allies, so he made some of us into vampires."

"Ahh, been there, done that." Marcel replied with a smile, leaning in closer, his hand brushing against yours.

Elijah watched from the other end of the table, his eyes flickering between the pair, his stomach knotting with every touch and look exchanged between you.

You didn't miss his glances, or his frowns, and you wondered what his problem was. He had his gorgeous girlfriend by his side, why was he looking at you this way?

Klaus delighted in the growing jealousy he could see bubbling up inside Elijah. He knew his brother had always loved you, but never made a move. And now, he was paying for it.

Klaus watched as you flirted with Marcel, enjoying the sight of Elijah growing increasingly frustrated.

"They seem cozy, how cute," he mused, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes, it appears that way," Elijah replied, his jaw clenching.

Hayley smiled at you and Marcel, "they’d make a good couple,"

"Would they?" Elijah asked, a hint of irritation in his tone.

Hayley didn't notice, she was too busy watching the way your eyes lingered on each other's and the way Marcel leaned in close and whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

Elijah didn't miss the spark in your eyes as you spoke with Marcel, the way your face lit up and the way his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

He wanted to rip his heart out.

He felt himself growing angrier by the minute, his hands clenched and his jaw tight. He could barely keep up with the conversation, his attention focused on you, his jealousy eating away at him.

There you were, so close, your laughter filling the air, the sound he had been longing to hear for so long. And he was stuck sitting across from you, watching you get closer to another man.

"Jackson, tell me about this ritual you mentioned earlier," Klaus said, interrupting Elijah's thoughts.

"Well," Jackson began, looking between Hayley and Elijah awkwardly. "It could possibly give the pack hybrid-like abilities,"

Hayley smiled, "that's exactly what we need Klaus, an army to protect our child."

"What would this ritual involve?" Elijah asked, trying to distract himself from the sound of your laughter.

"A marriage," Jackson answered. "Between myself and Hayley,"

"A marriage?" Hayley asked, confused. "I thought this was just a ritual?"

Jackson shook his head, "in order for it to work, we need to marry,"

Hayley frowned, looking between Jackson and Elijah. She wasn't sure how she felt about the idea of marrying anyone but Elijah, but she had no choice, she would do anything for her daughter.

"It would give us the power and numbers we need," Klaus agreed. "We could protect Hope from anyone who wished her harm."

Elijah felt strangely relieved, despite knowing how selfish it was. He thought he loved Hayley, that her marrying another would bother him, but he was more bothered by the way Marcel was touching you, he realized that his feelings for Hayley weren't enough.

He still loved you, and he always would.

"I guess that's it then," Hayley sighed, glancing over at Elijah, wondering what was going through his mind.

"We can discuss it further tomorrow, but I'm sure it's something that would benefit us all," Elijah said, his voice steady.

Hayley nodded, her heart breaking at his indifference. She didn't understand, she had hoped he would argue against it, at least a little bit, but it appeared she was mistaken.

She glanced over at you, seeing the way you kept looking at Elijah. She realized that your presence had shifted something in her relationship, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger towards you.

After dinner, everyone had a drink or two and mingled. Elijah and Hayley found a private corner to chat about her wedding, their conversation awkward and strained, filled with hidden meanings.

"Are you alright?" Elijah asked, noticing the pain in her eyes.

"Yeah, fine." Hayley nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "I just thought you would... I dunno... Protest the wedding more."

Elijah hesitated, "we need to do whatever we can to bring home Hope." He spoke carefully, "you know that I... care for you."

Hayley looked away, trying to hide the hurt on her face. He 'cared for' her, but it wasn't enough.

"You care for me," she repeated, her voice lacking the inflection of surprise. "But you don't love me, do you?"

She looked up at him, their eyes locking. He looked at her sadly, the regret in his eyes telling her all she needed to know.

"You'll always have a place in my heart, Hayley," he said. "It's just-"

"She's back," she finished, nodding sadly. "You've always loved her."

Elijah didn't respond, instead he simply stared at her, their eyes full of unspoken words, unshed tears and the promise of a life together that would never be.

Hayley took a breath, blinking back her tears.

"I should probably go and join the others," she said, turning to walk away. "I'll… see you around,”

Elijah released a breath, running his hand through his hair. He stood there, debating whether he should go over and talk to you.

Hayley could tell from the way you'd been looking at him that your feelings for him were the same. She was hurt, and a little drunk, and a more than a bit angry.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw Marcel whisper something in your ear, his hand resting on your shoulder. You seemed to have every man here wrapped around your finger instantly, even Elijah.

Hayley walked up to you, her eyes flashing. "It's incredible how you just return out of the blue and have every man here panting at your heels."

You raised an eyebrow, not expecting the hostility.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you in some way?" You asked, giving her a confused look.

"No, you're just a slut who can't seem to keep her hands off the men around here." Hayley snapped.

You looked at her in surprise, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Marcel and I were only flirting," you replied.

Hayley glared at you, her fists clenching. You could see the rage burning in her eyes, and you were tempted to push her further, just to see how far you could take it. But before you could, Jackson was by her side, a worried look on his face.

"Come on Hayley, let's get some air," he said, pulling her away from you.

Marcel watched as they left, his arm draped around your shoulders.

"What was that about?" He asked, glancing down at you.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you shrugged, your gaze drifting over to Elijah.

He was looking at you as well, his eyes wide and searching, as if he couldn't believe you were really there.

"I'm sorry Marcel, I think I'm going to turn in early," you said, smiling apologetically. "It's been a long day."

Marcel nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Call me sometime, if you're interested," he said with a grin, winking playfully.

"Sure, thanks." You nodded, returning his smile.

You made your way over to Klaus, thanking him for the dinner, and bidding him a goodnight. You then approached Elijah, a small smile on your face, your heart pounding.

"It's wonderful to see you, after all these years," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

"You too, Elijah." You said, giving him a genuine smile.

"I want to show you something, before you go." He said, extending his hand out to you.

You hesitated, glancing down at his hand, a part of you afraid to get your hopes up, to believe that he saw you as more than a friend. But when your eyes met his, you could see something in his gaze, and it gave you the confidence you needed to take his hand.

"Lead the way,"

Elijah gave you a small smile, leading you to his study. He walked over to his desk, searching around until he pulled out a wooden box.

He placed it on the desk, opening the lid. Inside was a pendant necklace, a gold chain with a small emerald medallion hanging from it, with your initials engraved.

You hadn't seen it in centuries, not since the night you parted, and the sight of it brought a flood of emotions crashing down.

"You kept it," you whispered, your eyes stinging with tears.

"Of course," Elijah replied, his voice quiet, a smile playing on his lips. "It was yours, it belongs with you."

Your fingers gently grazed the pendant, the cool metal a reminder of your human life. It was given to you by your mother, the only thing you had left of her. You had treasured it, and when it broke, Elijah had offered to get it fixed for you.

But when Mikael arrived and you were separated, you thought it was forever lost.

"You got it fixed," you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

"Yes, it was important to you." Elijah replied, his voice soft, a smile on his face.

"After all these years, after everything, why did you keep it?" You asked, confused.

"It was all I had left of you," he replied, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed, unable to speak, your throat tight and your chest aching. You'd never imagined he'd held onto such a keepsake, a reminder of you he held onto for centuries after he believed you to be dead.

Elijah gently picked up the necklace, placing it around your neck, his hands lingering.

"I'm happy to return this to you," he whispered. "It's where it belongs."

Your hand went up to the pendant, tears streaming down your cheeks. You turned to face him and his hand cupped your cheek, wiping away the tears. You leaned into his touch, his skin warm against yours.

He stared into your eyes, his expression filled with emotion, his heart beating erratically.

"I want you to know that I..." his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words. "That I have never forgotten you."

"I never forgot you either," you whispered, your gaze dropping to his lips, your own parting.

He leaned in slowly, closing the gap between you. His lips were soft, gentle, as they pressed against yours, you both sighed, melting into each other. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

He moved you back until you hit the desk, his lips moving down your neck, nipping and kissing, causing you to moan. Your hands grasped at his clothes, tugging him closer, desperate for him.

Elijah lifted you onto the desk, pushing his body between your legs, his hardness pressed against you. His mouth was on yours again, his hands roaming your body, exploring every inch.

"Wait, wait," you panted, breaking the kiss. "You are with Hayley,"

Elijah paused, his eyes locked with yours, his chest heaving. "Not anymore."

You stared at him, confusion and desire muddling your thoughts.

"What?" You managed, still struggling to catch your breath.

"We broke up, tonight," he explained, his voice husky, his hands caressing your thighs.

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind, but his closeness and his hands on your body were making it impossible to think. He kissed you again, his lips hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you.

You moaned, arching into him, your hands roaming his body, pulling him closer. His hands tugged at your dress, hiking it up your thighs, moving your panties to the side.

"I want you," he muttered, his eyes dark, filled with lust.

You whispered his name as his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit. His mouth was on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, nibbling softly. You gasped, your hands grasping at his belt, trying desperately to undo it.

He pushed his pants and underwear down, his cock springing free. He positioned himself between your legs, easing into you slowly. Your eyes locked, both of you filled with an intense, desperate need for the other.

Elijah groaned, gripping the desk, his knuckles turning white, as he began thrusting into you, slow and deep. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your moans filling the room.

His movements became faster, more frantic, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you. You felt yourself getting closer, your muscles tightening, your breathing becoming shallow.

His lips crashed against yours, his hands gripping your thighs, holding them open. The desperate way he was fucking you was a testament to the feelings he held for you, and it only fueled your desire for him.

You moaned into his mouth as you came, your orgasm hitting you hard, making your body tremble, your muscles spasming.

Elijah buried his face in your neck, sinking his fangs into you as he let go, his body shuddering. You held him, stroking his hair, feeling his body relax.

"I've always loved you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." You replied, kissing his temple.

He kissed you again, his hands cradling your face. He smiled at you, his eyes filled with warmth, and a deep love that was reserved only for you.

It felt like coming home.

♡♡ Hayley is jealous of you -> you are jealous of Hayley -> Elijah is jealous of Marcel... & Marcel is too cool to care. ♡♡ ~What kind of jealously geometry is this??? I'm a writer not a mathematician lol~

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