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preciouslandmermaid · 2 years

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nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - Part 7

Note: I want to say, again, thank you to everyone supporting and showing love for this fic and these (points) dumb main characters. Stan Ted for clear skin.

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Comfort, Talking about death/Mikey’s death. (cw: mentions of suicide).

Synopsis: Jimmy offers you a favor, but it feels more like you’re helping him out rather than the other way around. However, a wedding is incomplete without the wedding cake, and you cannot afford to say no.

Lake Michigan is haunted by more than a few ghosts for you and Carmy.

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked into the kitchen from the back delivery door to see Ted dancing to a remix of a pop song. On the front of his navy t-shirt was ‘Cookie Rookie’ in white cursive with a little half-eaten cookie on the curve of the final ‘e.’

“Ted.” You stifled your laughter. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Making a TikTok for the bakery.”

You stared at him for several, quiet and stupefied seconds. “Jesus Christ,” You said emphatically before shaking your head in disbelief and walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks ago, your incredible success at the Spring Festival garnered thousands and thousands of new followers on the Cookie Rookie’s social media. Even Chicago 6 News scheduled an interview for next week: a mere three days before your opening.

It wasn’t a surprise that Jimmy heard about your triumphs.

The surprise came in the form of him asking you to provide the wedding cake for his brother-in-law.

Jimmy said. “But I’m not paying you, alright? This is exposure.”

You cradled the phone into your shoulder while writing a check to pay those who built a custom neon-sign with your bakery’s name. “I can’t help but feel like we have plenty of exposure. Don’t you follow us on Instagram?”

“No, I don’t follow you Instagram!” Jimmy quipped, “I’m not sixteen years old.”

You clicked your tongue. “Fair.”

“It’s not even a big wedding. It’ll be an easy job.”

“Again, you’re asking for free labor.” You pressed. “I am paying my people even though we’re not open yet.”

“That sounds fucking counter-intuitive.”

You shrugged. “I’ve got the funds for it.”

Technically, the money within your grandfather’s account was meant to be used as a safety net in case anything went wrong after opening. However, you were confident that your opening weekend would payback those funds two-fold. You hired Leslie, Ted, and Dani and they deserved to get paid even if they were only coming in on their own time to practice their bakes.

“Fine.” He huffed. “I’ll pay you.”

You gave him your rate and wrote down the specifications for the cake itself onto your planner.

“When’s the wedding?” You asked before lifting your cup of coffee to your lips.

Jimmy answered, “Tomorrow.”

You spat coffee onto your open planner and coughed. Your eyes watered and you wiped your mouth with your fingers. Tomorrow?! Was he insane? You cleaned the warm coffee off your desk with a tissue. Unfortunately, it quickly soaked through the thin material, and you were left with coffee-stained fingers and damp paperwork. Many weddings were planned months in advance with multiple taste tests of the cake depending on the finicky nature of the wedding couple. You never heard of anyone getting a three-tiered wedding cake for an elopement.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, dude.”

“I’ll double your going rate.” He offered. “Look, I wasn’t going to say anything, but it’s a shotgun wedding, okay? The soon-to-be newlyweds aren’t picky. Just make a halfway decent wedding cake so it convinces her relatives they had this whole thing planned.”

Jimmy wanted you to make a wedding cake just to save his brother-in-law’s ass from getting into trouble with his girlfriend’s family. He would pay you double and grant your bakery additional attention. There was a chance this wedding was going to be messy as hell. You had no other choice but to answer—

“Alright, yeah. We’ll do it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You made the icing for the cake and improved upon your own recipe. It was the same white frosting with a hint of sharp lemon that Carmy tried all those weeks ago. You bit down on your smile while spreading it across the cakes with a steady hand. Ted piped a gorgeous array of white roses along entirety of the bottom tier. Dani decorated the top layer with sugar pearls and arranged them, so the pearls spilled from the top layer and onto the middle. It was simple, elegant, and tasted delicious.

You folded your arms over your chest and admired your combined efforts.

Ted clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Not bad.”

“Nope.” You smiled. “Not bad at all.” You snapped a picture and sent it to Carmy. His response arrived while you were driving to the wedding.

‘Who’s getting married?’

‘Jimmy’s brother-in-law.’

You climbed out of the passenger seat when his reply buzzed inside your pocket.

‘Richie assumes he burned our invitations.’

You smiled and quickly typed back, ‘A travesty.’

You and your bakers transported the cake out of the car and to the display table underneath the large, white tent pavilion. Jimmy shook your hand, grateful and relieved, and palmed you wad of cash. You tucked it surreptitiously into your pocket.

“Stick around, kid. Have a glass of wine.” Jimmy made an annoyed face, “Lord knows I’m gonna need one.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. You didn’t particularly enjoy weddings. But, you would have a front seat to any of the drama if you stayed. You walked to the edge of the tent and looked out at the gray waters of Lake Michigan that stirred with a gentle breeze. Your throat prickled and you roughly swallowed it back.

You were small and following your grandfathers’ back. He turned to look at you, smiling, his large palm soft and solid in your little hand. The sunlight beamed across his profile and burned the rest of the memory into white, blinding, glorious light.

Dani said, “Jefe?”

You flinched and quickly wiped a single rogue tear with your fingertips before turning to her. “Yes?”

Her warm, brown eyes narrowed. “Are we staying?”

“Sure!” You sniffed, then nodded, “Take advantage of the open bar, yeah?”

Ted beamed behind Dani’s shoulder, “Say no more, Boss!”

Dani lingered by your side for a second longer before walking away and you were glad for it. Any gentle word or touch at this point would crush you. You wrapped your arms around your middle and hide your face toward the sparkling lake. Nothing changes. Your fingertips dug into your upper arms and the slight pressure grounded you. Crying about it changes nothing. Let’s not lose our cool during our first gig. You squeezed your arms a little harder and tucked away those sweet, summer memories before everything in your life shattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You lost track of how many glasses of champagne you drank before they finally cut the cake. Dani wept, though you weren’t sure if it was because of The Wedding or The Wedding Cake. Ted had gotten no less than three women’s numbers and you were convinced that Leslie would go home with one of the bridesmaids. Your emotions teetered on a knife’s edge, and it was through remarkable self-control that you managed to not call Carmy for sex. You were a paragon of virtue. A saint. You had nerves of steel and a heart carved from ice.

Or so you told yourself while half-stumbling onto the empty, sandy beaches beside the wedding tent. The cool air bit your flushed skin. Can paragons and saints hallucinate? You wondered as you clutched the neck of an open champagne bottle.

“Carmy?” You said with soft uncertainty. The person standing on the beach had a Carmy-shape. The right height, you thought, and his jacket looked familiar. Your grip loosened on the champagne when he faced you. His eyes shadowed and hidden by a nondescript baseball cap. You felt strangely disappointed to not see them in their full tender and tired glory. He didn’t say anything, though you noticed his hands slide into the pockets of his coat.

You lifted your eyebrows. “Surprise?”

That got a reaction out of him. “W-what?”

“Last time we saw each other, you said I always show up and surprise you.” You explained with a vague gesture while holding the champagne. You brought the bottle to your lips and the bubbles fizzed up your nose—you sputtered and then laughed. Carmy pulled off his baseball cap and held the brim between his hands.

His words were so gently muttered that you almost didn’t hear them, “You do.” He looked past you and toward the fairy-lit tent filled with drunk Polish guests. “How’d it go?”

You beamed with pride burning hot inside your chest, “Fantastic.” An idea struck you like lightening.

“Wait! You can try it!” You grabbed Carmy’s hand and tugged him purposefully toward the tent. The sand wafted around your feet, catching on your pants, and into your socks. The fairy lights adorning the tent swirled like fireflies in your vision. Your heart sputtered, nervous and alive, at the solid and warm grip of Carmy’s fingers trapped within yours. The loud voice in your head that often screamed ‘what are you doing?’ was blessedly quiet.

His fingers twitched, but he didn’t pull away. “I don’t think Jimmy wants me crashing his brother-in-law’s wedding.”

You rolled your eyes, “Relax. I’ll hide you behind something and steal us a plate.”

“Foolproof.” He deadpanned and you grinned over your shoulder at him. You weren’t sure why Carmy was being pessimistic about your amazing plan. You released his hand near the side entrance of the pavilion beside a fake potted palm plant.

“I’ll be right back. I promise.” You said with severity and a furrowed brow. Carmy’s mouth thinned, but you didn’t wait to see if he smiled. You weaved through drunken wedding guests, passing white balloons and golden glitter, and stopped with a triumphant grin at the cake table. You set your champagne bottle down and replaced it with a plate carrying two pieces of your wedding cake. You shoved two clean forks into your back pocket and walked with urgency back to Carmy.

A small part of you feared you’d walk through the plastic flap and find empty air and sandy, receding footsteps. He had no reason to stick around and follow along with your silly, not-quite-sober idea. Your heart found a home inside your throat. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he was gone. It would just be…a bummer.

Your breath exhaled in surprised, earnest relief when you stepped from the drunken noise and found him standing with his hands in his pockets. The myriad of twinkling lights reflected in his pupils and revealed a tiny, fleeting galaxy of undiscovered constellations. The flap closed behind you and the light returned to a muted, soft white.

You held the paper plate aloft with both hands, “Ta-da!”

Carmy smiled, fragile and quick, but your heart swelled with the sight of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You asked Carmy to hold the plate while you took off your shoes. You walked into the sand, sneakers dangling from your fingertips, with your other hand curled around his bicep to steady yourself. Neither of you spoke as you walked aimlessly before sitting down together. Your shoulders bumped together because your bodies couldn’t resist colliding like meteors. What did it mean when you moved in sync with someone? What about when you could hold a conversation through a look? You sighed and the sound rattled and loosened something heavy stuck in your ribs.

Carmy accepted the fork from your pocket and stabbed a piece onto the tines. You pillowed your chin on your clasped hands. This was different from the first time. You were hungrier, you realized, for his feedback. You had eaten his food and seen him work. You knew you improved, but it mattered that Carmy knew that as well.

His eyebrows raised. Your heart thumped. He blinked a few times, nodding, then finally lifted his eyes to meet yours. The world stopped spinning. Your blood rushed in your ears. Carmy’s coat was rough and scratchy from where it met yours. You shifted and your knee touched the side of his thigh.

“It’s fire.” He took another bite, “It’s really, really good. Damn.”

Shock registered on your face first, then melted like candle wax into sweet, soft joy.

You knocked his fork out of the way with your own, “I got two pieces, you know.” You teased with a dark look.

Carmy shook his head, bemused, and pulled the plate out of your easy reach, “You said you wanted me to try it.”

You laughed with incredulity. “And you have!” You glared at him, “That doesn’t mean you get to eat it all.”

His expression softened. The false, playful anger in your gut dimmed. His eyes were warm with amusement, long eyelashes kissing his cheekbones, a smudge of frosting on the corner of his mouth.

He looked at you expectantly with an edge of challenge in his jaw and said, “Yeah?”

Your stomach fluttered. You were drunk on inexpensive champagne and buried memories of your grandfather and cool, fragrant air and Carmy. His eyes, his tattooed hands, his imperceptible smiles, and wan laugh and you were hopelessly mystified.

It was a miracle you could string a sentence together, “Yes, Carmy—now share before I knock it into the sand.” You heard Carmy exhale shortly through his nose—his almost laugh. The sound of it was more intoxicating than any glass of champagne.

“Please.” You added as an afterthought.

He lowered the plate back between you and replied, “Only because you asked nicely.”

You took a wonderfully large bite of cake and smiled. You were so goodman proud of yourself. You hoped your grandfather would be proud of you. Your heart squeezed and memories leaked from their boxes. They spilled over your fingers like black ink, filling the lines and grooves your palms, reminding you of their impossible permanence and fluidity.

You faced the dark, gray waters of Lake Michigan beneath a dusky-blue sky and the truth loosened from your soul with ease. “Generally, I’m not a fan of weddings. I think they’re bullshit, but this one was OK even if their location is shit.”

In your peripheral, you saw Carmy’s face turned toward yours, and heard the faint smile in his voice, “what do you have against Lake Michigan?”

A lump lodged itself in your throat and your voice cracked around it. “I - I used to come here with my grandad when I was small…”

Hot tears prickled your eyelids and you managed to blink them away. “Before mom and dad split and she moved us away.”

“And it’s stupid, right? I know it’s stupid. To even think about any of that when I should be networking with the wedding guests. But I – I can’t. I can’t talk to them about Fourth of July cupcakes and birthdays or whatever other bullshit while standing in a place that meant so much to us.” You paused, “that still means so much to me.”

You suddenly tore your eyes away from the hypotonic dark waters, “Fuck, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just drop that all on you. Shit.”

You contemplated diving headfirst into the lake and swimming to Canada before you embarrassed yourself further.

“N-no, no.” He muttered your name. “I get it. OK. I do.”

“I don’t know if you – um – knew this or not. But, the Beef belonged to my brother, Mikey, and uh…he died a few months back and left it to me.” Carmy sniffed. “Actually, uh, saying he died doesn’t exactly cut it.”

There was a flare of unmistakable anger to his tone. Your gaze lifted sharply from the plate and fell upon Carmy’s agonized expression. It was as if sorrow and anger were at war with one another and trapped within a stalemate. His brow crinkled and his eyes stared, unfocused, toward the sand.

“He was an addict, which I didn’t know about, and he – uh – he killed himself. He shot himself.” He said and you flinched at his brusque tone. “We used to come to Lake Michigan all the time, you know? As kids. Especially when things were good with my mom.”

Cake icing stuck to the roof of your mouth and the usual response of ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ laid bitter and heavy on your tongue. The world glistened and blurred. You ducked your face away from Carmy’s to brush away the tears with your knuckles. You could imagine the burden on his shoulders. A burden similar yet dissimilar to your own. Your grandad lived a long, successful life and died of old age. He left you his legacy, polished as it was, just like Mikey left Carmy his. A wild, foolish part of you wished you could lessen the weight on his spine and ease the suffering on his face. It was impossible, of course. You couldn’t rescue Carmy from his own grief anymore than he could rescue you from yours.

But at least on this night below stars and ghosts – you weren’t alone.

He sighed. “So, yeah. I get it.”

You lowered your head onto his shoulder without saying anything else. You knew it was the champagne making you sleepy and melancholy, but that didn’t stop you from grazing your fingertips across the warm, exposed skin of Carmy’s wrist. You realized it wasn’t only Lake Michigan that harbored memories for him. The entire city of Chicago served as a reminder, and you wondered how Carmy survived without breaking down at every intersection.

He turned his palm upward. You slid your fingers between his and squeezed gently, though his fingers remained extended and did not curl inward toward yours. You sat in front of Lake Michigan, with a plate of wedding cake on your lap, beside a beautiful boy who terrified and thrilled you in equal parts.

“Hey Carmy?”

“Hm?”

You asked quietly, “Are we friends?”

He snorted lightly. “Y-yeah, I think so.” You heard him swallow. “I never had a lot of time for friends in New York.”

“Or here.” Something in his tone inspired you to raise your head from his shoulder. Whatever resolve you built against Carmy crumpled fast and sweet like cotton candy on your tongue. There was no use fighting it any longer. You wanted to know him. You were tired of denying yourself what you wanted.

You searched his face and knit your brow, “What do you mean?”

“I was a shy kid. I mean, Mikey was my best friend. At least, I thought he was until I realized he was everyone’s best friend, you know? That’s just who he was. He had – uh – this magnetic personality.” He said, gesturing with his hand, “and I don’t know—I got to New York, and everything got quieter, and I was focused, and I was determined, and Mikey cut me out of his life, and I cut people out of mine and I – yeah – I just didn’t…”

He licked his lips, then frowned. “I didn’t really try to make friends, I guess.”

You smiled tenderly. “You sound like me.”

The blue in his eyes flooded with warmth when he looked at you, “Were you anti-social or just highly competitive?”

You cast your gaze heavenward to the brilliant, dark sky with a rueful smile. “I wanted to be perfect.” You said.

“I thought it would make life easier if I wasn’t influenced by peer pressure. I avoided making friends, or socializing at all really, until Grandpa intervened. He made me get my shit together.”

Your laughter rasped wetly within your throat.

“I mean he really made me get it together. Mom was busy working and rebuilding her life, and Dad ran off with his perfect, secret family. I didn’t smoke at the time or drink, so I coped in other ways, and he—it sounds so lame, but he saw me.”

You whispered, “He was the only one who saw me.”

This was why you needed to make him proud. It was why you needed to be successful, competent, and perfect. You owed him. You needed to pay him back for those years of unwavering support. You never would’ve gone to college, never would’ve pursued this life, if you hadn’t spent your summers with him. He was – in many ways – a father to you.

You explained all of that to Carmy in a hurried, panicked tone before the tears started to fall. The words had spilled out of you like someone twisted a valve inside your brain.

You were usually better at this. You talked about your grandfather all the time to his old associates and business-friends. Except those people never asked about your childhood, or your memories of him, or the gray hole in your life that existed in his absence. None of those people could understand the depth of the loss you endured.

“Goddamnit!” You shouted, wiping your cheeks stained with evidence of your grief, “You can’t tell anyone you saw me cry.”

“Who would I tell?” He nudged your shoulder with his and his fingers finally enclosed around yours, “I have one friend, remember?”

“Hm.” You hummed around the fork tines with another bite of cake. “Good point.”

“What about Richie?” You asked.

“He’s a family friend.”

“Not your friend, though?”

Carmy shook his head, “I mean - I don’t know. I think he wants me to go back to New York.”

“Will you?”

A line formed between Carmy’s brows. “What?”

“Go back to New York.” You selfishly hoped he would stay no matter what happened. If you had enough time, then you could pursue something honest with Carmy. It could be solid, and tangible, and Good. And yes, it would likely end with your heart being broken, but at least the middle and beginning would be fun. You were cynical when it came to romance, or relationships, or God forbid--love. But openly talking about your rawest wounds in front of Carmy altered your perspective. Maybe a relationship was just finding someone who made you feel brave.

He stopped looking at the pavilion over your shoulder and met your eyes, “No.”

You bit back your smile.

Together, you finished the two slices of cake in silence with your forks occasionally clashing with a soft metallic ‘ping.’ You set the plate aside with a rock on the surface to stop it from flying off in the wind. You thought of his brother, his loneliness in New York and in Chicago, and the beast of burden in the shape of a struggling restaurant. You thought about your past and uncertain future. Carmy continued to hold your hand, calloused and warm, and you didn’t want this evening to end.

You asked the singular question weighing on your mind.

“Why do you think Mikey left you the restaurant?”

Carmy replied, “To fuck with me.”

The wind stirred your hair and it caught against your nose and lips. “You think so?”

“Shit.” He sighed heavily. “I – I don’t know. I have no fucking clue he was thinking. I wish I did. I wish I knew anything about him.”

Your heart splintered at his defeated, angry tone. You wished grief was physical, like a blanket, that you could remove from his shoulders. You wanted to do more for him beyond listening. You wanted to chase that hurt, angry look from his eyes with a broom and demand it never return.

“Tell me something you did know.” You said gently, “Something easy. Like…uh…I don’t know? His shoe size?”

Carmy snorted and leveled you with a disbelieving, flat look. He removed his hand from your grasp and pulled his cigarettes from his coat pocket. You waited while he lit up and admired the shadows flickering across Carmy’s face. The champagne no longer lingered in your veins. The bubbly, giddy feeling had only one culprit and it was the person beside you. He inhaled, exhaled smoke through his nostrils, and wordlessly held the cigarette out to you.

Sharing a cigarette was as close as you’d get to kissing him.

“Mikey was…” He licked his lips. “He was loud, and funny, and—he—he’d walk into a room, and he’d light it up, you know?”

You passed the cigarette back with a faint smile. You suspected his relationship to Mikey was a complicated one and you wouldn’t untangle it over the span of a single cigarette.

“He taught me how to ride a bike. Sugar—Natalie—I mean, my sister, too.” Carmy threaded his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what that says about him.”

“Sometimes, it’s less about what the memory says and more about how it makes you feel.” You shrugged. In your eyes, you thought Mikey must have a decent amount of patience and resolve to teach his younger siblings to ride a bike. Patience and determination were two traits that worked well within the restaurant business.

The cigarette dangled from his lips, and he shook his head slightly, before pressing his fingers to his mouth, and pulling it away. The vapor seeped through his teeth. Carmy’s expression was perturbed but he didn’t elaborate or share his thoughts. His eyes shined glassy and distant. Perhaps taking a walk down memory lane wasn’t what he needed right now. No worries.

You snatched the cigarette out from his fingers and the act startled him. You smiled with smoke unfurling in front of your eyes and distorting Carmy’s features.

“Come on.” You clambered to your feet and gripped onto Carmy’s muscled shoulder as you slid your sneakers back onto your feet. “My ass is getting cold sitting out here. Do you wanna take the L together?”

“What about the wedding?”

You scoffed, flicking cigarette ash onto the sand, “Jimmy didn’t pay us to stick around and help clean up.”

You reached down for him and wiggled your fingers, “The offer will expire in ten seconds.” You opened your mouth to start the countdown, but Carmy grabbed your hand, and you pulled him to his feet. He let you go immediately, and you chose to not think about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy watched the reflection of you in the glass across from his seat. You were half-asleep on his shoulder, your head nodding with the train’s movement, and your lips slightly parted. He hadn’t expected his night to take this type of turn after leaving the Al-Anon meeting. You had stood before him in the sand, your cheeks flushed and eyes dark, and Carmy convinced himself he was dreaming before you spoke. You were always surprising him - literally and figuratively.

He swallowed tightly at the memory of your tearful expression. He would never understand Mikey. He would never figure out his motivations, or decode his ciphers, but he was starting to understand you. You threw yourself into everything with passionate, courageous fervor. You hated when someone saw you cry. You chased perfection. You idolized your grandfather. You were forthright, and proud, and quick with dark, teasing looks and clever grins. You were a stubborn know-it-all and perpetually charming.

The intercom announced the next stop and you stirred. “Hmph. Carmy?”

He blinked down at you. “Hm?”

“It’s all real with you.” You muttered sleepily into his shoulder. “I can’t compartmentalize for shit when you’re around.”

His lungs expanded with a deep, full inhale. He reached out and tucked away a piece of your hair that fell into your face. His heart tripped with an uneven tempo. The train slowed, pistons hissing, and doors sliding opening beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. He knew your stop was next and loathed the idea of saying goodnight. He would ride this train, up and down the river forever, if it meant he could stay next to you.

He cleared his throat and said, “Your stop is next.”

“Ugh.” You grumbled, “Fuck off. I know.”

You sat up, leaning forward, and he missed the weight of your head on his shoulder the minute it was gone. You scrubbed your hands over your face, taking your phone out, responding to text messages with a bleary-eyed expression. His hands twitched in his lap. He wanted to settle his palm between your shoulder blades. He wasn’t a complete idiot. Normal people didn’t have urges like this about their friends. Maybe it was a side-effect of sleeping together but he didn’t know.

“You’re – um - you’re good to walk home, right?” He inquired carefully. He imagined where you lived and assumed it was better than his depressing apartment.

You nodded and glanced over your shoulder, “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”

He shrugged and aimed his tone for nonchalance, “What are friends for?”

You twisted your torso toward him, careful delight illuminated your eyes, “Did you really think our cake was good?”

“I thought it was better than just ‘good’.” He clarified, “I thought it was ‘fire’ which is the highest compliment a chef can give to another.”

You answering smile set his inexperienced, aching heart overdrive. The train slowed, its announcement crackling over the speakers, and you swayed when you stood. He caught the sleeve of your coat with his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes flickered down to his hand before meeting his gaze, quiet and cautious. A heartbeat echoed between you. He had few, precious seconds before you were gone, and he’d never guess when you might turn up again. You were across the street, yet it felt like you were a hundred miles away.

You said, “Night, Carm.”

“Don’t – um – don’t be a stranger, alright? You can - you can stop by anytime.” He swallowed nervously, releasing your coat, and scratching his forehead with his thumb nail. “Richie hasn’t shut up about you since you catered Eva’s party.”

“Please remind him that wasn’t me. That was Delilah.”

“Yeah, well, maybe he just wants to take Delilah out on a date or something.” Carmy guessed with a shrug.

It was a paltry excuse. Richie didn’t really talk about you that much beyond his joking quips and annoying assumptions. Carmy wanted you to come by regardless of the reason. He wanted to have another smoke break with you. He wanted to know more about your life, your past, hell - everything. Desire filled his chest, hot and bright and close to bursting. If only willpower alone could stop the train doors from opening.

“I can make that happen.” You pursed your lips. “She’s single.”

The doors slid open with a hiss. He exhaled your name in farewell. You stepped off the train onto the concrete platform. Carmy’s knee bounced in his seat. He leaned back, eyes toward the steel ceiling, and gleaming bars.

‘He’s the only one who saw me.’ He set his jaw in remembrance and was unable to shake the feeling that he felt the same way about Mikey. His older brother had been his best friend, his guardian, and his hero—the person who saw him—until he stopped looking. And no matter what he did, no matter the accolades, and the praise, Mikey never looked at him again. Never told him he was proud, or impressed, or that he was sorry for the years of silence. He sniffled, his tears sharp and prickly against his eyelids. He pinched the upper bridge of his nose and pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes.

He kept it together until he crossed the threshold to his apartment. The door slammed. His heart split. Carmy leaned his back against the door and sank to the floor with his hands covering his face. He wasn’t embarrassed to cry in the privacy and safety of his shitty apartment. His throat ached, his eyes burned, and twin rivers of snot trailed onto his mouth. For a long moment there was no other sound in the small hallway beyond his ragged, hiccupped breathing.

Until his phone vibrated in his pocket. He cleared his eyes with his fingertips. An overwhelming sense of anxiety and concern consumed him before he looked at his phone. What if the message was related to The Beef? What if someone was quitting? What if it was worse than that?

Your name glowed in blue-light on the screen.

‘What kind of coffee do you like?’

He pressed his lips together, blinking away the last of his tears, and slowly typed a response; ‘All of it.’

‘Heard.’ You said, followed by, ‘I expect nothing less from an insomniac.’

Despite the hollow, painful ache of missing his brother, Carmy laughed – a brief, dry sound. He clutched his phone between his fingers like al lifeline. An electric, unseen tether to you, and to the sense of grounding that you gave him.

‘Who said I was an insomniac?’

‘No one! I can sense these things.’ A short delay before the next message came through, ‘It takes one to know one, I guess.’

He got to his feet with a quiet grunt and peeled his jacket from his shoulders. He knew he needed to shower, but it would have to wait until tomorrow. He didn’t have the energy for it no matter how simple it seemed. He rinsed his mouth with mouthwash at the kitchen sink and collapsed onto the couch with a soulful, long exhale. He stared at his open text and every quiet, doubtful thought came rushing into his head with a bloodthirsty vengeance.

You deserved better. The more he understood you, the more you let him in, the more certain he was of that fact. He couldn’t and shouldn’t drag you into the shitshow of his life and all its barbed wire. He was a mess. You deserved someone functional, healed, and experienced. His time at Noma, or the French Laundry, didn’t mean shit compared to everything he didn’t know when it came to relationships – platonic or otherwise. He felt like he was bumbling through the dark, stepping on glass, and knocking over fine China.

The worst part was knowing that Mikey would know what to say to him. He’d have a quip, or some anecdote, or gravely spoken advice. Carmy set his phone facedown onto the coffee table without replying and turned his television on to Pasta Grannies.

His dreams were filled with tickertape, and smoke, and the curve of your profile just out of view.

(Part 8 )

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #fic: nothings gonna hurt you baby #ao3 #pls lemme know what y’all think !! it’s been fun so far :) sometimes i get worried that i don’t have #like everyone’s voice correct lol

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tvrningout-a · 10 months

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when i finally have some free time, it’s over for y’all 🔪

#i am staring at my inbox call and my drafts like PLS LEMME DO THESE and life goes: hmm no 💜#asdfg honestly i’ve been busy bc of family stuff and moving stuff and my friends’ baby stuff #and my own stuff good lord #but i promise the brain worms have returned and i’m itching to write #i’m also itching to unleash bronwyn on here bc the lore keeps on growing and i’m vibrating with excitement!!!#she’s gonna have a dryad pal who may remain an npc for now? but i might eventually write her too #but what she adds to the story makes me happy 🥲#i’m gonna start rambling like crazy if i don’t stop now but pls know i’m thinking about y’all even though i’m not here rn!#and i really hope you’re all doing well and remember to take care of yourselves 💜#get ready to ramble | ooc

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hurthermore · 1 month

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OMGOTMTOGKR I LOVE SEEING/HEARING OTHER FOLKS IDEAS ON WHAT HUMAN AL LOOKS LIKE TO THEM!!! For my story (The Moirai’s Loom) I tried to keep his looks somewhat similar to the fanart I’ve seen! His body type and height are exactly as you’ve described. Personally I think that his hair is natural curly and to tame it he uses a pomade to slick it back rather than fry it with perm or a hot comb. Reader is the exact same. I think my favorite design detail about him has to be his little fangs. Idk they r so cute. This is what they look like, curtesy to my very close friend @buntomu (pls check out his tiktoks!) who drew them for me!

AHH THIS IS SO CUTE!! His face is so close to how I imagine him!

Also she is sooo beautiful and cute, I LOVE her hair! My OC that I imagine for Misconduct literally has pink hair cause fuck y’all I do what I want SOOSKS

Also your friends art is AMAZING if they take COMMISSIONS LEMME KNOW!!!

#alastor x reader #misconduct info #Alastor x reader fanart #alastor fanart

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solefae · 2 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 “𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑“ ☆ 𝐉𝐞𝐲 𝐔𝐬𝐨

pairings; jey uso x fem!internent personality!reader

faceclaim; scotlynd ryan

summary; Scotlynd's life turns upside down when wrestling star Jey Uso starts liking her posts. Fans are quick to judge, branding her a homewrecker. Little do they know, Jey's marriage ended months ago-a truth hidden from the public eye.

notes: this is my first post everrr so this might be trash 😒 and yess imma use her real name fa this bcuz I couldn’t think of a fake name 😭 + I love scotty y’all so I hope some of y’all don’t take these “insults”? a lil TOO seriously 🫣

scotlyndryan

liked by trinity_fatu, uceyjucey, and 798,578 others

scotlyndryan Gave em the blues over this Aqua 🪼🌊🥶💙🩵

view all 57,358 comments

trinity_fatu 😍😍

scotlyndryan all u trin😘

jonathanfatu mane all this flirting with my wife gotta stop

scotlyndryan boy shut up 😒

user 😍😍

user the baddest

themercedesvarnado ugh u too perfect 😫

scotlyndryan girl pls u too perfect

user scotty with the body 😍

scotlyndryan liked this comment!

user NOW why tf did jey like this? ��

user SAME THING I SAID 😂

user ain’t he married ?

user YES

user y’all always do this 😒 just be putting dating allegations on anybody, they prolly just friends

user I hope I’m not the only one seeing that jey liked 😳

user jey liking this knowing he married is CRAZYY

user jey WILDINNN😂😂

user onm 😂

user he hitting that on tha low 😂😂😂

user they js friends

user how yk?? u friends wit em??

user why jey liking my girl post? 🤨

user she do NOT know you bro 😂

user these comments weird asfc…

user right

user frl tryna start rumors 🙄

user ain’t she already messing around with that one married dude that made baddies ?

user chile she don’t want lemon pepper, she want some of that samoan d 😭😭

ilovepostingdrama

liked by user, baddieseasttea, and 789,246 others

ilovepostingdrama girl js can’t leave the married men alone huh? 😂😂

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user she’s a homewrecker. period.

user this man is married to his high school sweetheart and she wanna come in and ruin that?? 🤦🏽‍♀️

user THE ARIANA GRANDE 2.0 tweet got me crying 😭😭

user FRL 😂

user 😂😂

user are they wrong? 👀

user rumor. IT’S A RUMOR SO THAT MEANS IT’S PROBABLY NOT TRUE 😒

user girl this is most definitely true she slept with lemon pepper, who is also married 😂

user and he got kids omgg🤦🏽‍♀️

user she got no respect

user THE ARIANA TWEET IS TAKING ME OUT😭😭

user RIGHT LIKE THEY AIN’T HAVE TO GO THAT FAR😂😂

gossippagee

liked by user, baddieseasttea, and 378,356 others

gossippagee Baddies East Scotlynd Ryan sleeping with WWE Superstar Jey Uso? Rumor started back in December of 2023 when Scotlynd started liking and commenting on Jey’s posts and since then, the rumor keeps spreading more. 😳

view all 348 comments

user so based off her liking his pictures and commenting, they dating automatically? 🤨 GOODBYE this ain’t true, he’s happily married 😘

user you might not wanna say that…

user girl she literally messed with a married man before, what makes you think she won’t mess with a another one? 🤨

user jey too loyal to mess with a homewrecker, he know better

user ur delusions is getting the best of u, homegirl is definitely messing with him

user so married men is her type? 🤨

user WITH KIDS TOO!!

user ig so 🤷🏽‍♀️

user right like why can’t she find someone who’s single ?? 😒

user WHY ARE YA’LL NOT WORRYING ABT THIS MF AGE GAP!? she’s 27 and he’s 38, UHM HELLO!? 😳

user she prolly like older men 🤷🏽‍♀️

user RIGHT LIKE HE’S ALMOST 40!!

user age ain’t nothing but a number

user jey too fine to be messing around with her

user DAMN 😂😂

user I’m not calling her ugly but she’s too young and she’s a homewrecker 😂😂

user RIGHT

user don’t do scotty, she fine asfc

a/n: thank you for reading! lemme know what y’all think about this series start off 🤍✨

#jey uso #jey uso x reader #the bloodline #main event jey uso #wwe x reader #instagram au #joshua fatu #jey uso fanfiction

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rosemaryshelluverse · 3 months

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raises hand

who wanna see my hazbin OC

here she is my sweet gal Stereo

my exact thought process was ‘ok. radio demon.. TV demon.. what about the in between?’

So here’s Stereo! The Stereo Demon! (STD for short bc it’s funny)

it’s not my BEST art style replica but she was drawn at 4 am while my only energy came from one (1) faygo root beer

pls lemme know what y’all think 😔🙏

anyways i love her bye

#rosemaryfollows #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin #Stereo #Stereo Demon #i love her she’s my baby #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor #husker #angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer

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ma-ri-yana · 14 days

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Castaways

Ghoul Cooper Howard x Alien Reader

A/n: this one’s a bit of a long one. Probably the longest entry since it’s the intro. Cooper doesn’t have a big role in this chapter since it’s introductory buuuut I’m going to post the next two (? Not sure yet) chapters within the next few hours so you can see more of Cooper. This is more of an intro to the reader’s character and schtuff. I hope you guys like it. There may be some typos here and there so I’ll come back every so often to edit it lol. Pls lemme know what y’all think 😭🙏🏻

Edit: I forgot to mention this takes place roughly 30 years before the first season.

Rough summary: you are an alien that crashed landed on Earth while you were on your way to a different planet. Cooper runs into you while trying to catch/collect a bounty.

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5

Nembaria. It was a tiny little planet, much like Earth. Rather, what Earth used to be. Nembaria was full of bodies—of water that reflected the colour green because of the planet’s atmosphere, of plants that reached different heights. Tall and lanky, short and stubby. A home of different species of animals.

The small planet orbits a different star. It does not reside in the same galaxy as Earth, but the next one over. Though the small planet contains many different life forms as Earth always had, its political landscape is not the same. At least, it’s not comparable to the one currently on Earth. There are three nations in Nembaria, separated from each other by vast oceans.

The planetary society as a whole is technologically advanced. Far more advanced than its neighbouring planets and definitely more advanced than planet Earth, pre and post war. While this is true, the Nembarians made sure to take great care of their ecological systems. They were also known for being a -mostly- pacifist society. Their military, in spite of the pacifism, was known to be able to hold its own. It had to, with all the interplanetary tourism and trading.

The planet was able to sustain a mostly peaceful atmosphere for centuries, having not involved itself in any conflicts, outside or inside the planet.

Despite this, the planet wasn’t perfect. The three nations still disagreed, but they refused to show the public they disagreed. Instead, they enacted policies that greatly contradicted each other and greatly affected the ones outside of political power. People with little money, no generational wealth and inheritances. People like you. Regardless of the troubles, it was home to you. It was where you slept, ate, socialised. It was where you planned to live your life.

Time is unforgiving. Change is inevitable. With time, everything changes. You had lived a mostly happy childhood, despite your family’s place in the world. The Lyri family was big. Your parents couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other and because of this, you had a total of six siblings. Four brothers and two sisters whom you adored. You were the eldest daughter, but not the eldest child. Even still, you acted like the oldest, most times. Making sure your siblings had everything they needed—as much as you could. You all looked fairly similar to one another, as family tends to. All having varying shades of purple hair, yours was closer to periwinkle; while the rest of your sibling’s hair alternated between lavender, periwinkle, and indigo like many of the people from that region. Your skin was rose pink, the same as the rest of the family’s, save for your father. His skin was tan from all of his outdoor labour, rouge pink would describe it better. You had lighter pink markings that swirled along your body and antennas, save for your face, that you were born with. That was also common for your people.

Though many in more privileged positions seemed to look down on you and those in your class, you were still able to excel in school. You and your older brother, Dimiil, took your schooling very seriously in hopes of transcending your status and, in turn, that of your loved ones. Your younger brother, Nikkand’r, the third child in line, wasn’t as driven but he was smarter than you two. It’s because of this, the three of you were able to graduate from your university with many accolades. This resulted in the three of you being recruited by the DOI (department of intelligence) in the military. You would go on to complete 3 months of general military training and 6 months of training for your specific “job”. Though the three nations in your planet remained separate from one another, they did share their military as Nembarians weren’t known for fighting amongst themselves. At least, not on a grand scale such as war. The military’s purpose was more for intergalactic defense.

The three of you weren’t separated from each other when you joined. Such a practise was actually considered barbaric and outdated. The military determined it was better not to separate family from each other, when possible, to reduce the stress and anxiety of the separation. They deemed forced splits to be counterproductive. That didn’t go to say that you couldn’t part ways if you wanted to take different jobs in different places; but forced partitioning was unlawful.

It had been four years since you officially finished their military training. You and Dimiil made it through with flying colours with Nikkand’r barely scraping by. Nikk was never really the disciplined type— but once he started to work in the field, he surpassed his brother and sister in his performance.

You still cared for your brothers the way you always had and often called home to keep in touch with the rest of your family via holographic projections. Aside from communicating with your loved ones at home, you also enjoyed playing and writing music. your ears were never deprived of music. And you never seemed to stop singing, much to your roommate’s chagrin. Your roommate seemed to give up on yelling at you to shut up not too long after you moved in and created a soundproof force field between you that she’d lower whenever she felt like talking to you. Which was rare.

Nik spent most of his free time playing games online with his friends on different planets on his GalaSphere. Dimiil mainly spent his time studying. It was never the same thing, just anything that seemed to pique his interest in that moment. He’d alter between listening to podcasts and watching VousTube videos.

In spite of you being in a militaristic environment with the intentions of defending your planet—it was very peaceful. Mostly because Nembarians didn’t really involve themselves in conflicts. They didn’t mediate, nor did they instigate. So when all the branches were summoned by their supreme leader, Maromik Fyndru, and told that they had gotten pulled into a conflict with Anthraxus, one could imagine all of their surprise. When asked why they were going to war, they were told that it wasn’t determined they were at war just yet, but some Anthraxans had killed innocent Nembarians. The supreme leader assured his soldiers that his first priority was ensuring that their peace would not be disrupted by war. He assured his soldiers that he was sending some diplomats to speak with the Anthraxans.

And while it was true, Maromik was striving for peace, it did not matter. Jorak Kannus, the Emperor of Anthraxus and the Anthraxan Empire, had other plans. His empire had been annexing many planets for years. They’d been expanding from solar system to solar system, galaxy to galaxy. Any planet that was deemed useful in their eyes was either given to them willingly by their primary population or taken by force.

Jorak wasn’t interested in peace. He was planning to do what he had been doing his whole life, what his father had done his whole life before that, and his grandfather before that. He was going to take Nembaria for his own. He was going to add it to his collection.

The reasoning behind it didn’t matter much to you, all you could be certain of was that your world was going to change.

After your supreme leader, Maromik, finished explaining the situation to the branches, he cleared his throat. “I am now going to read off a list of names. If you are called upon, I ask that you kindly follow Boraq to the Strat room…”

Your violet irises trailed over to Boraq, watching as he opened the door and made a gesture, signalling that he wanted those called upon to walk in. “Jenip’r Grenol, Johar Monolna…” Maromik listed off, his voice grew more and more distant in your ears as he read on. Your mind trailed off, racing with the possibilities of what could happen. What this potential invasion could mean. If the invasion would improve your general quality of life or turn your lives into a living hell.

“Y/n Lyri,” you heard Maromik call. You snapped back to reality and swallowed the spit that gathered in your mouth.

You felt Nikkand’r elbow you in your side, prompting you to suck your teeth and roll your eyes as you slowly made your way to where Boraq stood, your head and body turning to look back at your brothers. Boraq clicked his tongue to signal you to keep walking.

“Dimiil Lyri…”

Right on cue, Dimiil started his walk, following your trail. Once he’d caught up to you, he bent his knees a bit and leaned his head to the side to meet your ear and whisper. “Everything will be fine, nebby.” Nebby was the nickname he had for you, he’d named your nebbies. They were bugs that came out at night. Their lower thoraxes and antennae light up in the dark. You used to stay up to watch them every night.

“I’m not so sure about that…” You muttered, turning your violet eyes to the door as you watched your other brother speed in.

Nikkand’r nodded to you both and stood beside Dimiil whilst you all patiently waited for the side meeting to commence.

The three of you walked out of that meeting feeling a bit uneasy. You weren’t told much about the exact state of things but even with the very little information you had, you’d inferred that it couldn’t have been good. Of course things couldn’t have been going well. You wouldn’t have been pulled into a meeting and assigned to spy on the Anthraxan empire otherwise.

“When’s your appointment?” You asked them as the three of you sat in Dimiil’s room, devouring your bowl of noodles with beef. You stood up to serve yourself some more food as you listened for your brother's answers.

“Tomorrow at noon,” said Nikkand’r with his mouth full.

“Tomorrow at one,” said Dimiil, bringing another forkful of beef and noodles up to his mouth. “You?” He asked while he chewed.

In front of others, you ate more properly. Amongst yourselves, you ate like animals, most times.

“Tomorrow at eleven,” you groaned.

“Sweet, we’re an hour apart from each other,” Nik pointed out.

“Ah yes, one hour apart from each of us getting our heads split open,” You cheered sarcastically.

“Don’t be so optimistic,” Dimiil snorted. “It’s not like we’re gonna die or anything—“

“They’re splitting our skulls open—“

“It’s a surgery. Those happen all the time,” Nikkand’r failed to reassure you. “Plus, this is a standard procedure for people in our department and has been for ages. I’m surprised they waited till now, to be honest.”

“Look on the bright side, we’ll be able to download languages into our brains and become fluent in almost any language in a matter of milliseconds!” Dimiil couldn’t contain his excitement. You scoffed, he was such a nerd.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “I’m not a fan of being cut into.”

“It kind of comes with the territory, sis. We’re in the military, we’re not always gonna be farting shooting stars or whatever the phrase is,” Nikkand’r sighed before digging right back into his bowl.

“We’ve been at peace for over two hundred years. Forgive me for thinking everything would be fine.”

“Things can always go tits up at any given moment—doesn’t matter how long you’ve been shooting the shit.”

“Dude, come on,” Dimiil complained, pointing to his food as if to say, ‘I’m eating, here.’

You cackled, temporarily forgetting about the stressors that ran through your mind. Those were tomorrow’s problems.

You forgot how quickly tomorrow would approach. When you’d laid your head down to sleep, you woke up as quickly as you had closed your eyes.

You groaned as you slowly sat up in your bed, the blue Nembarian sun having woken you up by beating down on your face from the open window. You looked down at your wrist watch, 7 AM, it practically screamed at you. You still had a bit of time to enjoy your morning before everything went to hell. With yet another groan, you climbed down from your loft bed, starting to get ready for this morning’s shenanigans. After dawning your indigo uniform with neon green linings, you stepped out of your dorm, making your way to the cafeteria. You had forgotten the instructions issued to you not to eat before your surgery until you had the food displayed right in front of you as you stood in line for breakfast. You cursed under your breath and sighed before putting the empty tray back and stomping off to your room. Your stomach rumbled. You were irritable.

8 AM, your watch reads, projecting the time holographically to make it bigger and easier to see. You were still nervous. you’d never had a surgery before. You’d never purposely been cut into and had some foreign object inserted into your body. The thought made you shiver. Whatever, you thought to yourself. I’ll just take a nap.

And that you did, but not before setting five different alarms, all five minutes apart starting at 9:50. As much as you hated the idea of getting that surgery, you understood you couldn’t afford to miss it.

9:50 came faster than you’d wanted it to, and once again, you made your way to the restroom to brush your teeth and fix your hair before you could stomp off to the medical wing of the base. As you sat down in the waiting room, reading a magazine, you felt your watch vibrate. Looking down at your wrist, you noticed Dimiil had messaged you.

Good luck with your appointment, Nebby. You’ll be fine. He had sent it in their group chat.

Almost as soon as the message was received, your watch vibrated again to indicate you had received another text.

If she’s gonna be fine, why are you wishing her luck?

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, putting your attention back on the magazine you had picked up. A few minutes later, you heard someone call your name from the metallic door frame. You put the magazine back in its place before standing up and walking through the doorway. “Good morning,” you said politely as you passed the assistant. The employee pointed you to another room, the room where you’d get your final check up before the surgery.

Your physician walked in after they’d administered all the final labs with the results, “looks like you’re good to go. You’re in mint condition, as usual.” He grabbed your hand, you resisted the urge to yank your arm back and recoil. You didn’t like it when he did that. It was nothing personal, really, you just liked your personal space. “You’re going to be fine. This is a standard procedure. We get lots of them done every day. Our surgeons can practically do it with their eyes closed—not that they would.”

Your nose lets out a sharp breath, the kind that comes out when you chuckle silently. “Okay, fine. I’m trusting you. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

The doctor gave you a small smile before he stood up, “they’ll come retrieve you shortly, your anaesthetist, Wilcyn, is going to administer your anaesthesia first.” He informed you, opening the door to let Wilcyn in as he walked out

The surgery turned out well. And as medically advanced as the Nembarians were, it didn’t seem as if your recovery would take longer than three days.

After those three days were over, you had been pulled aside at work. Your Sergeant, Grover, informed you that your task would begin tomorrow and that you were expected to board your ship at 5am. He warned you not to be late.

And you weren't. As a matter of fact, you were an hour early, waiting by the closed space ship. You played music on your phone made of light particles that attached themselves together whenever you tapped your fingers together that you listened to via your wireless earbuds as you waited. You scrolled through your social media feeds, silently judging some of the things you saw your coworkers and friends post.

Half an hour later, your antennas perked up, sensing that someone was approaching and emitting a dim yellow light as a result. You looked around and noticed your brothers walking over.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be traveling through space.” Nikkand’r commented.

“Yeah, it’s like we’ve always dreamt,” Dimiil smiled.

“I don’t know ‘bout you two, but I never dreamt of doing it under these circumstances,” You scoffed.

Dimiil started, “it makes it all the more exciting—“

“Death is exciting to you?”

Your brothers exchanged a look, nodding to one another before turning their heads toward you. They spoke in unison, “yes. Yes it is.”

You facepalmed, your pink, fleshy antennas moving up and out of the way as you did so to avoid your hand’s wrath. The action left a faint red mark on your forehead.

“Good morning, hope you all had a good night’s—” the Sergeant stopped in his tracks once he saw your red face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, why?” You questioned him, obviously confused by his unreasonable concern.

“Have you felt or noticed any symptoms other than redness?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“He thinks you’re having an allergic reaction to the medicine, ya dingus.” Nikkand’r explained, annoyance seeping through his tone at his sister’s supposed idiocy.

“She’s alright, she just hit yourself trying to kill a moskfly before it bit her,” Dimiil cut in. His explanation made you look like an imbecile.

The Sergeant sighed and looked up to the sky, “if this is the smartest team we can get, we’re doomed.” He muttered to himself.

Nik snorted, you elbowed him in the stomach. “So, uh… which planet are we heading to?” You asked in an attempt to bring the conversation back to its original course.

Sergeant Grover cleared his throat, “yes. You are going to Anthraxus itself—“ your jaws dropped, “—but you are expected to also visit a few different planets on the way. Most of which will be known allies of ours. Some otyours will be more… neutral in their position. The goal is to try and secure the relationship between us and these different planets. That alone may be enough to deter the Anthraxans from trying to invade us.”

“Or it could provoke them. They may see it as an act of retaliation—of aggression—“ Nikkand’r spoke.

“That’s not for us to decide,” Dimiil warned, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. He looked down at him knowingly, his eyes screaming for him to shut up and take the job.

The young man gulped and apologised.

The Sergeant smiled politely, his eyes didn’t smile though. They remained cold and empty, giving the appearance of an animal baring its teeth to scare their predators. “I’ve sent a link of the necessary documents to your tablets. From there, you’ll be able to download said documents to your chips and view the necessary information, even without access to your devices. I also suggest downloading the different languages files as you pass through certain planets, even if you’re not planning to stop by them. You may have to make some extra stops depending on how fast you go through your food supply.” The Sergeant shot a look at you.

You pretended to be offended and gasped, “you’re really hurting my feelings here, Serg.”

“Have you all downloaded the documents into your chips yet?”

“Yep, just finished installing,” Dimiil informed.

“Perfect, open them up and scan through them once you’ve boarded the ship. If you’ve got any questions, feel free to reach out,” the ship’s door opened itself as he said this. A long set of stairs descending to the ground to meet them.

You gulped and shook your jitters away, taking the first step up with the rest closely following you, except for the Sergeant who had already begun walking back to the base.

“So, which one of us is flying this thing? Can I go first?” Nikkand’r asked, practically calling dibs on the pilot’s chair as he ran in.

You made sure everyone made it safely inside before pressing the button to bring the stairs back up and close the door. “Yeah yeah, go ahead, geek,” you heard Dimiil say as you turned back to look around the ship with your eyes, not bothering to move from your spot before you did. With your x-ray vision, you looked through the walls of the ship. Not that you needed to, you were safe in your home base, nothing could go wrong. But you just had this weird feeling that made you worried sick to your stomach. You felt as if something was going to go wrong. Your eyebrows furrowed when you noticed strange figures approaching from a distance.

Without hesitation, you pressed the invisibility button, not wanting to take a chance. “Hey, what’re you doing?” Nikkand’r complained. You shushed him and kept watching even still, noticing how the number of strangers seemed to multiply: all of them with weapons in their arms.

“Go,” you commanded, Nikkand’r groaned. “Go,” you said more sternly.

“Dude, at least let me admire her before I take her out for a joyride!”

“Go, go, go, gogogogo!”

“Will you calm down?”

“What’s going on?” Dimiil questioned, knowing it was not normal for you to be reacting like this. He knew that you had been nervous about the journey, but he still knew you well enough to know you were not one to panic this way.

“Look!” You directed, pointing to your eyes to emphasise he’d need to look past the steel walls of their aircraft.

He followed your directions, eyes widening at the sight. “You’ve gotta go. Now.”

The youngest one followed the eldest’s command, turning the engine of the craft on and starting to lift off. You and Dimiil continued to watch the scene play out as scores of aliens raided their base. As much as you wanted to know what was happening, you needed to get out of there and start your mission. All of your antennas emitted a blue light that looked purple because of the pink shades of their skin. It was clear that the threat of the Anthraxan invasion was much graver than they were told by their superiors. It was now clear that the threat had reached Nembaria. It had reached your home. The three youngsters sighed. You were all distraught. You thought you had more time, you thought you’d have a chance.

“Okay, let’s get movin’… The first planet on the list, Firulandis.” Dimiil read from the document in the chip that was inserted into his brain. His eyes glossed over with some kind of a white film. “After that, we have to head to Mattrinum.”

“Okay… that’s 26 light years north for Firulandis and then 180 light-years west for Mattrinum?” You clarified.

“Yes. You heard that, Nik?”

“Yep, I’m stepping on it,” Nikkand’r agreed, “sit down and hold onto your shit.” He commanded before pressing the button to fast-travel to their first target planet.

After days of traveling, speeding across the stars, you made it to the first destination of many. You were welcomed in with open arms. This was one of the ally planets. Nembaria traded frequently with Firulandis, their histories having been interwoven for over a millennia.

When you had left, you left with more food to take for their travels. More than enough to last you all until you could hit your third destination, at least.

“Ya know, I’ve always wanted to go backpacking through space,” Dimiil mused as he stared out one of the many giant windows surrounding the disc shaped spacecraft. “I know the circumstances aren’t… optimistic… but this is still kinda nice.”

“I wonder if Jaina is okay…” You mumbled.

“Ha, knowing her, she would’ve kicked all those Anthraxan asses for making too much damned noise,” Dimiil laughed. “Ah, man… she is really pretty…”

“I told you to shoot your shot,” You softly nudged him in the bicep. “She’s single and very sweet once you get past all the… meh.”

“I really hope it’s not too late…” he looked down at his bowl filled with food that vaguely resembled couscous and chicken. He stood up and walked over to their fridge and put his unfinished serving inside. He’d lost his appetite and decided he’d eat that for breakfast.

You put your hand on his shoulder, “I hope so too… If you made it, you’d better ask her out. You’d better not play chicken.”

“You’ve been watching those old Earth TV shows again, haven’t you?” Nikkand’r laughed, “you’re talking like them now.”

“And? You know, before they destroyed everything, they created some nice art. I like their music a lot.”

“I know, ever since you were a kid, you’d sing Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra songs like your life depended on it,” Dimiil chuckled.

“Don’t forget Celia Cruz,” Nikkand’r chimed in.

“Those Earth TV shows were the worst!”

“Hey! They’re actually really good if you take the time to watch them.” You answered defensively.

“Do they even watch them?” Said Nikk.

“They blew themselves to oblivion, so I doubt they do,” Dimi crossed his arms.

Silence befell them. You all thought the same horrible thing but didn’t dare to say it out loud. “Here, why don’t I play some music—not from Earth— that we can all enjoy, huh?” you proposed, standing up from the cushioned blue chair you sat in. “Morgana,” you called, activating the voice assistant in the aircraft before commanding the ai program to play some music. As the music started to play, you pulled your brothers up from their chairs by their arms.

“Gemmy, I’m flying here,” Nikkand’r groaned. Gemmy was the nickname he’d given you when he was little because he had trouble pronouncing Nebby for some reason.

“Put it on autopilot, Nikk,” You suggested, earning yet another groan from the youngest before he gave in and did as you instructed. He then let you pull him up to the center of the ship. You all danced together, temporarily forgetting your worries and troubles at home; feeling hopeful for the future even if it looked bleak at the moment.

You all danced until you started to feel sleepy. One by one, you and the boys gave in to your tiredness and moved to the sleeping quarters, letting the playlist you turned on ring as you drifted out of reality.

The Lyri family was awoken by several violent shakes and loud noises. “Are we getting fucking hit?” Nikkand’r jolted awake, running back to the pilot seat.

Dimiil was the next to run to his position with you following closely behind, bringing your blanket with you. Your rose fingers grabbed at the joysticks after wrapping your blanket around yourself to shield yourself from the cold as you aggressively and strategically thumbed the buttons to fight back against your attackers.

You sighed, once you noticed the insignia on one of the masses. “Anthraxans, they’ve caught us— turn on the invisibility gear.”

“I can’t, it’s jammed.”

“Nikki, do it now!” Dimiil yelled.

“Did you not hear me? I said it’s fucking jammed.”

Dimiil stood up and ran over to the dashboard, looking at the variety of buttons on display. You couldn’t say what exactly it was that Dimiil did to fix that issue because you were busy shooting lasers at their attackers and the wave of relief that waved over you when he did was also inexplicable.

“Now haul ass out of here, they can still kind of see us with their sensors, but if we get far enough, they might not find us.” Dimiil instructed him again. Earning a nod and a salute from the youngest.

You stopped shooting the laser cannons in their enemies’ direction as you all scurried off, not wanting to give away your location. You just prayed the forcefield wouldn’t be overpowered by them if they were able to keep a close enough distance. You sighed, moving your curly, periwinkle hair out of your pink face so your violet eyes could glare daggers at the two men. Your antennae glowing some sort of green colour. “So, is this the kind of backpacking through space you had in mind? Or were you looking forward to having more missiles directed at us?”

The year was 2263. The sun shone brightly in an irradiated man’s scarred face. The man’s eyes moved behind his eyelids before he slowly brought himself to open them, squinting for a few seconds as he let his eyes adjust to the sudden light. He groaned, sitting up in the desert dirt. He brought his knees up to his chest, his hand sat atop his knees, as he looked around at the barren orange landscape. Another day, another chem. He thought to himself. It was what seemed to motivate him to keep going—aside from the possibility of reuniting with his daughter.

The scarred man grabbed his hat that was sat next to him on the dirt, plopping it back on his head as he stood up and kept walking toward his destination. He hadn’t planned on sleeping there. Not initially anyway. But he was so tired, he couldn’t help himself. Luckily for him, there was no one around, at least not when he’d last checked, as he was so close to the place he’d been walking to that it didn’t seem to matter.

He grabbed his bag and took a look inside with a sigh. He was running low on chems again. “Yep. That’ll do it,” he groaned, forcing himself off the sandy ground. His bones ached, something he never got used to in spite of dealing with joint pains for over a century. It came with the territory. The chems helped with the pain. He debated with himself whether he’d stick the pain out until he got to the agency or if he’d just take some of his ‘medicine’ beforehand. He chose the latter; inhaling some the chems before he set off to the nearby settlement. A settlement he was very familiar with. It was home to the bounty agency he frequented.

“You look like hell, Ghoul,” the man working the agency greeted the scarred one.

“Got nothin’ new to say, I see.” The Ghoul glanced at the employee walking up to the bulletin board, “any new jobs for me?” He asked no one in particular, he didn’t need to be told when he could just look at the wall himself. There was a pretty new face on the wall. He chuckled, “y’all coloured this one?” He questioned as he looked at the girl on the paper with your e/c eyes. Elena Zakharova, it read. Long h/c , s/t, y/h, about 25 years old, travelling with four others. Wanted dead or alive. Bonus if she’s alive.

Wonder what kind of trouble she got herself into, he thought to himself. Squinting at the prize offered at the bottom of the page.

50,000 caps. Not bad, he thought to himself. Not bad at all. He grabbed the paper from the wall and folded it before putting it in his pocket. “See you in a few, butterball.” He tipped his cowboy hat at the employee as he walked back out into the desert sun. His eyes squinted while he stepped out as they readjusted to the bright light again.

Days went by, and it seemed as though you’d lost their adversaries—or rather, their adversaries had lost you. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the next planet that you’d been attacked yet again. You barely scraped by this time, but when you were attacked a third time, almost three quarters of the way to your destination, your space RV gave out. All it took was one last beating before the ship started to plummet into some random planet’s harsh atmosphere.

You held on tightly to the handles that stood on either side of your chair, already strapped into it. There was also a beyond noticeable change in pressure within the aircraft, as the regulator had been blasted by the foreign military. This resulted in your ears popping, your noses filling with stinging pains; unbearable migraines with vertigo and joint pains. You felt as though you were dying, and you could very well have been. The systems were going haywire, popping in and out use as you all descended at dangerous speeds toward this planetary surface. You couldn’t see whether you were going to plummet into the ground or into a body of whatever liquid this little planet contained because it was so dark. It must have been nighttime. You closed your eyes, not that it made much of a difference, it wasn’t like you could see where they were headed, but you prayed for the former, silently. Your eyes stayed closed the whole time, bracing for impact. “Please,” you heard Nikk cry, “don’t let me die a virgin! I haven’t even had the chance to tell Wandala I love her!”

“Activating emergency landing protocol,” you heard Morgana speak calmly through the chaos once you were 150 feet off from hitting the ground. Two clear parachutes particalised outside the aircraft, causing the now hunk of junk to spring back a bit in the air. It would have been a… smooth landing had the ship not landed in the forest and the parachutes had not gotten caught in the trees on their way down. “Caution, stuck. Caution, stuck. Caution, stuck.” Morgana repeated.

You groaned and stood up, your brothers huddled up to one another, clutching each other's hands. They looked up from the floor at each other and immediately scrambled apart. Dimiil coughed loudly, “glad to see you’re alive, brother.”

“Same to you, bro,” Nikkand’r cleared his throat.

You rolled your eyes as you carefully walked over to the dashboard and climbed on top, careful not to step on any of the buttons. You moved a latch down to open one of the various windows and climbed out and on top of the ship. You felt water droplets falling onto your face and head as you pulled out a handle and pressed a button on its side. A jagged blade materialised at the end of it. You blinked the water out of your lashes and used the blade to cut the strings of one of the parachutes, causing the aircraft to turn on its side. You held on to the ‘doorway’ tightly and impatiently waited for the machine to stop moving before carefully climbing over to the other side and repeating the same motions. The moment you finished cutting, there was a snap; the spaceship started falling toward the ground again, rocking side by side as it bounced between tree after tree on its way down. You didn’t have enough time to put the blade away. The knife cut through your indigo jumpsuit with neon green linings. In one of the jerking movements of the aircraft, you were dragged forward and impaled yourself in the gut as you descended. You winced in pain, careful not to stick your tongue in between your teeth.

The aircraft settled onto the muddy ground below with one final, violent drop. “This is just great,” you muttered to no one in particular as you fell back into the structure.

Dimiil saw your fall back in and your uncoordinated motions as you crawled toward one of the drawers within the cockpit. He ran over to quickly close the window and to grab the first aid kit for you and quickly patched you up. You moaned in pain as you sat up, Dimiil grabbed your hand to help pull you up. “Thanks,” you managed to say. He simply nodded.

Dimiil turned to Nikk. “We need to get out of here. Grab whatever you can.”

Nikkand’r nodded and immediately started packing some first aid kits and vacuum sealed food bags into his backpack. You sat for a few seconds as you collected your bearings and started to do the same.

Once you had all finished collecting some important items, you quietly made your way out, using your watch to turn you invisible beforehand.

You heard loud crunching and squishing noises approaching and hid behind the bushes for safety. The invisibility feature had recently gotten an update that had some bugs, ironically, that needed to be fixed–the main one being battery drainage, which would then leave them exposed once the watches shut off. They could only really be used for half an hour at a time, which in most cases was enough to get away from attackers. But you needed to find a way to wander the world for parts to help repair the spacecraft undetected.

It was as you watched five humans walk past you, three males and two females, that you realised where you were. You had landed on Earth. And those people had just discovered your spaceship. A feeling of dread overtook you. You were screwed. The place was known for being a savage and chaotic cesspit.

“What the fuck is this?” You heard one of the men say as he stared at it. He looked a bit rough. They all did. They all looked dirty, their clothes dirty and tattered as well.

“Who the fuck knows… Let’s check it out,” said another man in the party of thugs. His voice was gruff.

“Oh hell no, I’m not going in that thing,” said the third man. One of the women seemed to agree with him and stood by his side, nodding vigorously.

“Well, if y’all two are too chicken shit, you can stand watch outside. Let’s go check this thing out, baby,” the other woman spoke up. She had wavy h/c picked up in a ponytail. Her e/c eyes narrowed at the two scaredy cats as she spoke before lighting up at the end when she looked up to, who some would assume was, her partner.

“Sound like a deal?” Her partner said to the two that stood away from the group, grinning.

“Yeah, whatever,” said the third man as the rest of the group went inside, leaving him outside with the other woman, pacing around the perimeter of the ship with their guns at the ready.

More crunching and slushing noises approached, and a new stench came into the air with it. Your eyes widened. It was them. The Anthraxans that had followed and attacked you. They looked much like regular humans with very few defining features that set them apart from the other species. The most obvious were their stench and the shape of their ears. You swallowed your spit silently, watching them as they approached the spaceship. The moment the humans noticed them, they started shooting them, to no avail. Their skin was bulletproof. The bullets bounced off them like it was nothing. The soldiers grinned, amused by the human’s futile attempts at killing them.

Fear flooded the man’s face as one of the Anthraxans stepped closer, grabbing him by the neck. Another one stepped forward toward the woman, doing the same. Without much effort–just a tiny squeeze–they snapped the human’s necks and flung them through the ship’s entrance. The lights in and outside of the ship were still flickering on and off in spite of its battered state, making the scene more terrifying.

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around yourself as if to soothe yourself before covering your ears. A choir of screams emerged from inside the ship as the Anthraxans slaughtered them all. The boys watched in horror, unable to pull their eyes away from the scene. It only took a minute. One minute for them to be killed off. One minute for the soldiers to walk out of the spacecraft unscratched and unbothered. The boys watched them walk off in the direction they’d originally come from, climb into their own undamaged ship and fly off. They let go of the breaths they didn’t quite realise they were holding.

Dimiil shook you, “they’re gone. It’s safe now.”

You opened your eyes and stood up, following your brothers back to the spaceship, walking slower than the two of them. “Walk faster,” Nikk grumbled as they climbed up the silver steps. Begrudgingly, you did as he commanded.

Still slower than the other two, you followed behind them, wincing once you saw the violence that had occurred in their humble aircraft. Your invisibility feature turned off once you entered the spaceship, the twenty minute timer you’d set had shut off the mechanism.

It was a massacre. Blood was plastered everywhere. Entrails decorated the place. Throats were slashed. The human’s bodies were displayed in unnatural positions with bones sticking out of their bloodied skin. The family couldn’t help but let their minds wander to what could’ve happened to their friends back at the base. You felt like crying but fought back your tears. Nikk gagged, swallowing back the acid and previously eaten food. Dimiil looked unphased. His antennae glowing red. You and Nikk felt a wave of calm rush through you. Dimiil had manipulated the physical effects your emotions had on your bodies. Slowing down your heart rates and calming your stomachs and bowel movements down.

You still had thoughts racing through your mind, but the physical uneasiness escaped you. You looked up to Dimiil and furrowed your brows, confused if you should be grateful or angry that he was controlling you in that way. You decided to choose the former for the sake of moving things along and getting out of the hellish spaceship as soon as possible. “Right, so…” you started, placing your hands at your hips. “We’re going to need a disguise… because this,” you paused and pointed to your antennas, “is going to give us away.” You ran your fingers through your hair.

“You can’t be serious,” Nikk crossed his arms, disgusted by your suggestion.

“It’s not like we’re going to be wearing their skin—“

“No, but pretending to be them isn’t any better.”

“Do you have any other ideas?”

Dimiil and You stared at Nikki as if they were expecting an actual answer from the man. He growled, “no.”

“Okay then…” You mumbled under your breath as you looked at the two women. You picked the one with y/c hair as you found her to be the prettier one of the two and completed a scan of the dead body by pointing your arm out in front of it. A green holographic light illuminated the cadaver, separating into multiple lines moving about vertically as it scanned her body. Once done, the watch chimed, prompting you to look back down at your wrist. Would you like to copy the body’s appearance in its current state?

You tapped one of the two options offered to you. No.

The watch then presented you with more options. Current age, infant, five years, thirteen years, seventeen years. You picked the current age. The watch presented some more options. Would you like to copy the body’s appearance before death in accordance with genetic information?

Yes.

Please insert a DNA sample! You bent down to pull out a piece of her hair and placed it on top of your watch so it could examine it. Thank you! DNA collected!

Hold out watch to finish the process! You did as you were instructed. The green lights came out again, doing one final scan of the body. Scanning complete! The body is now in your inventory! You sighed, going to your Home Screen on the watch to find the program that would change your appearance.

“This is horrible,” Nikk complained as he finished the copying process.

“Yeah, well. We signed up for this, dude,” Dimiil said, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t.”

“You signed the dotted line, brother,” the eldest sighed as he started the process of morphing his body to match that of the specimen he selected. “At least we’re not skinning them and wearing their skins. That’s what they did centuries ago.”

That seemed to shut the youngest one up for the time being as you all morphed into three of the five humans you’d seen alive not even twenty minutes ago. You took the clothes off the dead woman’s back and changed into them. Blood, cuts and all. The two males judged you silently. “Well, if you wanna have everyone looking at you, feel free to keep the uniform on.”

They looked at each other before nodding and following your lead.

Once done, you all started to inspect the ship inside and out to perform some kind of diagnosis. You knew how the parts were destroyed, you experienced it, but you needed to know exactly what was damaged.

You spent a few minutes taking a look at everything that had taken a hit and noting down the materials and elements that made up the materials.

Nikk spoke up, “what happens if we don’t find what we need?”

“Then we’re out of luck,” Dimiil scoffed.

You glared at your older brother , “or, we find another way, you Debbie-downers.” You stood up from the dirty ground, patting the dirt that clung to your stolen pants off, swiping at your back side. “Well, let’s start looking for this shit.”

Nikk rolled his eyes, “do you even know where to look?”

“Nope, but neither do you. We’re not gonna get anything done if we stay put, asshole.”

“Let’s at least wait until daylight. Get a good night’s rest. We’re all tired and irritable,” Dim suggested. You all looked at each other silently, as if you were deliberating your options.

You were the first to agree, “I’ll clean up in there, I refuse to sleep with that mess.”

“I’ll help,” Nikk offered, it was his way of extending an olive branch without explicitly apologising.

You smiled softly, recognising his intentions, even if he didn’t outright say it.

It took you a bit, but you finally finished cleaning your station. Whilst everyone seemed to be able to sleep soundly, you couldn’t. Every time you seemed to drift into your slumber, you’d get pulled out by the hurtful thought that you wouldn’t be able to fix your mode of transportation. The aching thought that there would be no way for you to go home.

You shook your head as if that would shake the bad thoughts away. You needed to have faith that everything would turn out okay and that you would be able to save your home. You looked down at your watch and tapped the headset icon. The watch flashed a bright blue light, wireless earbuds materialised and you stuck them in your ear, hoping some music would soothe you enough to allow you a few hours of sleep.

————————

Voustube- basically YouTube lol

GalaSphere- basically an Xbox or PlayStation. The name is a play on the game cube

Y/h- your height

S/t- your skin tone

E/c- eye colour

H/c- hair colour

#cooper x reader #alien x ghoul #alien reader x ghoul cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout #fallout tv show #50s 60s alien aesthetic #alien reader #aliens and ufos

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weskerssunglasses · 2 years

Note

What would be some NSFW headcanons for the RE boys? Loved your dating headcanons!!

RE Boys NSFW Headcanons

Thank you! Glad y’all are enjoying 🥰 These are a bit short, my apologies! I also went with a female reader because that's what I'm most comfortable with for n*fw. I excluded Chris bc I'm just not into him in an n*fw sense and Jake because I couldn't think of much for him,, Also, if there's any other characters y'all are interested in lemme know! As long as they're not in my do not write for list located in my pinned post

Characters: Carlos, Leon, Wesker, Nikolai

Rating: N*FW

TWs/CWs: Female reader, BDSM/kink mention for pretty much all of them

Carlos:

Switch, while he definitely gets off on having you pinned under him, he loves a dom s/o

Of course he would never admit that though, so you'd need to take the reigns one night before it comes out that he's fine with subbing

Aside from the dom/sub dynamic, choking, and dirty talk he's relatively vanilla so if there's some more kinky things you want to try out, you'll have to initiate it and bring it to him

Constantly running his mouth during sex; if he's domming, he's telling you what to do and saying just about anything to get you weak and begging for him <3

Meanwhile, if he's subbing, he's running his mouth if you let him. For the most part he'll do what you say, so if you don't wanna listen to him whine for more, tell him to be quiet and he will

Please, please sit on his face and pull his hair

Likes giving oral more than receiving

He's a thigh man 😮‍💨 Likes leaving bite marks and hickeys all over your thighs if you'll let him

Pleasure dom to the point he'll overstimulate you

"Good girl Cariño. You can cum one more time for me, yeah?"

Leon:

Sub, he wants a powerbottom S/O

I mean, he's canonically into Ada so are we surprised? No

He can top, but it would be pretty vanilla so if you want anything ~spicy~ you're gonna need to take the reigns

Pretty bratty, we all know how his smart mouth, and it definitely carries over to the bedroom. However, he breaks pretty easy

Will moan if you smack him-

Cries like a bitch if you tease him 😩

Doesn't like a lot of bondage, but he doesn't mind getting his hands tied to the headboard. The power dynamic there has his head swimming

In public he keeps the cool attitude and acts like you're the submissive one, but the second y'all are home alone he'll do anything to get you to touch him

Still calls you "baby" tho 🫢

Might call you mommy if you ask

Really he's down to try anything once. The only things that are hard no's for him are anything that would require knives or guns because it would remind him of his work. He's also uneasy about blindfolds but he might like it if you do it right

"Baby, c'mon, please touch me. I'm gonna go insane if you don't, please..."

Wesker:

sdihugjklif

I'm fine not really i'm so down horrendous pls help

Has to be in control, no compromises. He's not at all interested in an S/O who won't submit to him in and out of the bedroom

If you're bratty, good luck. He's not going to bother with you, he can easily find someone else

However if you play by his rules...

Totally has a thing for choking you. He's acutely aware of his own strength and his knowledge of anatomy makes it so he can bring you just to the edge of passing out and then lets you go

Surprisingly vocal during sex? He likes calling you names 🥰

Also loves making you feel humiliated and stupid during sex

Really anything that establishes a clear power dynamic between the two of you he's into

I'm not sure if this is in line with canon, but I hc his canine teeth are a little closer fangs due to the virus in him. Because of this, he likes to leave bite marks on your neck, collar, and shoulders, and he's not afraid of drawing a little blood too

Gets annoyed if you're distracting him from his work because you're horny, but he'll compromise with either a) a little cockwarming until he's done with his work or b) you can suck him off under his desk 🙏

"Stop moving, are you really so stupid you can't even sit still? Sit there and let me finish my work and then maybe i'll give you what you want, greedy slut"

Nikolai:

😳

mean dom

Did someone say dacryphilia?

Of course it's within your boundaries, but he likes to make you hurt during sex

Probably the most intense one on this whole list

While he is going to be the one calling the shots, but he'll let you think you're getting your way on occasion before snapping. I mean c'mon, guy's been a mercenary for decades and you don't think he can get out of a simple wrist tie?

Convinced he just likes being mean 🥱

Conversely to the way Wesker gets annoyed of brats, Nikolai seeks them out on purpose so he can break them and he is damn good at it

While he's definitely a freak, he makes sure to keep it consensual. He's a greedy jackass, but he's not a monster

Speaking of Nikolai's greediness, that carries into his sex life. He's always down for a quick fuck, even if it means you pulling him into a secluded bathroom or alley

Super into facefucking, especially if you do your makeup beforehand so he can ruin it

Calls you Kroshka still, but in a demeaning, sarcastic way

"What's wrong, Kroshka? Did that hurt? Good. You're prettier when you're crying"

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fuhlensworld · 5 months

Text

🎀Riding Scott bartletts thigh🎀

Au: YALL I lowkey love this idea so imma bring it to life for y’all I hope you enjoyyyy read the tw pls!!

Tw:thigh riding,afab!reader,use of y/n,cursing,smut,fluff at the end.

You had been dating your boyfriend scott Bartlett for about a month and the two of you haven’t had sex yet not even a blowjob,the most you two would do would make out,you weren’t bothered by that you just wanted-no you craved a little more.You had always been a “good girl” so this was a little out of character of you but you didn’t care.So you waited till after school and you payed your boyfriend a little visit, you knocked twice on his front door,and then the door swung open.

“oh hey y/n you look pretty today” Scott says as he leans against the frame of his door,blushing from just the sight of you.

“Hey Scotty,can I come in? I wanna talk to you” you said,ignoring his sweet comment with a slight smirk on your face

“Yeah cmon in”he said he’s tiring for you to come in the house,you both stride up his steps towards his bedroom and when you get in you lock the door without him noticing.Scott turn son his heels to face you and he hugs you and plants a soft kiss on your lips then to your dismay pulls away, “i missed you” he said quietly as he looked into your eyes. “I missed you too Scotty”you said while smiling “so uhm I wanted to talk to you…about something” you said getting slightly embarrassed as your confidence depletes, “well I’m listening” Scott says as he walks over to his bed and sits down,motioning for you to come sit next to him, you sit down and take a deep breath before you start, “so I know we’ve only been dating for a month and we don’t ever talk about…sex or anything …” Scott gets tense as he listens, he always got nervous at the topic of sex, he was a virgin and so were you so it was a forbidden topic between you two,until now.

“So I was thinking…instead of going straight into you know…doing it I thought maybe we could start with something uh easier I suppose” you say slowly meeting his gaze, your cheeks flushed from the conversation.

“W…well what we’re you uh thinking?” Scott says obviously embarrassed, you noticed his aching boner growing throughout your conversation, seeing that made the ache between your legs more unbearable by the second so you decided to get straight to the point.

“Could i uh, ride your thigh…?” You said turning your face away to hide your utter embarrassment,feeling regret pool along with arousal deep in your stomach.

“You…want to ride my thigh?” Scott says shyly but with a bit more confidence.

“Yeah here lemme just show you I guess” you say as you climb into your flustered boyfriends lap, straddling one of his thighs, you reach down under your skirt and shift your pink panties to the side and lower yourself into Scott’s thigh, a whimper of pleasure seeps through your lips.

“F-fuck Scott kiss me please” you begged him as he watched,eyes wide as you pleasures himself on his thigh

“Of course baby” he says as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss,you moan into his mouth and you freeze feeling his tongue glide into your mouth tasting your mouth,

“Is this okay?” Scott asks as he pulls away and looks into your eyes

“It’s more than oka-fuck oh my god” you gasp when you feel Scott’s hands on your hips,moving you back and forth on his thigh,sending sweet shocks against your clit, causing you to throw your head back moaning out Scott’s name,

“Fuck you look so pretty rubbing your pussy on my thigh, does it feel good baby?” He asks you as he brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear.”f-fuck y-yeah m’feels s’good Scotty” after a few more seconds of praise from Scott you felt your climax nearing, you grip onto Scott’s shoulder and let out a whimper, “fuck I’m gonna c-cu-fuck!” You let out a cry as you reached your peak and came all over Scott’s thigh.he slowly brung your grinding to a stop to ride you through your orgasm,”you did so good baby” Scott says as he layed you down on his bed, planting a kiss to your forhead. “I’ll come lay down with you in a minute let me just go to the bathroom to take care of my uh problem” he says eyes trailing down to the bulge in his jeans, you chuckle as he exits the room.He comes back a while later and squeezes into the bed next to you, “you did so good today baby” he says as he holds you close to his chest watching as you asleep in his arms.

Au: AHHH SORRH IF THIS SUCKED LMAO OLS LMK IF YOU WANT ME TK WRITE FOR ANITHER PROMPT OR CHARACTER SORRY THIS ISNT PROOFREAD!!!

#rory culkin #scott bartlett #thigh riding #lymelife #fluff #this suuuucks

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barclaysangel · 9 months

Text

Junior Wheeler if he was 9 years old during season 1 of Chucky (oneshot)

Hey y’all! I could not for the life of me figure out a proper name for this oneshot, so this is what we got. This AU totally escalated and I needed to write something involving it. In this AU, Junior is 9 and the younger cousin to Jake. Caroline and Lexy are also twins and 9 years old in this AU, but they won’t be mentioned in this oneshot.

Idk if I’ll continue writing this AU because I hate following the show’s timelines. But if y’all just want fun found family stuff where Junior’s 9 and doesn’t follow any timeline, then maybe I’ll do that instead. Also I wrote this within 3 days and without rewatching 1x08 so this is all by memory. Pls lemme know what you thought about this! Comments help fuel and motivate me!

Enjoy :)

Tags: @series-thoughts @zelinksupporter @streets-in-paradise

Word count: 2.3K

Junior didn’t mean for things to get this far.

Chucky wanted him to kill his dad but he couldn’t. How could he? Sure, his dad was mean sometimes. Sure, he put Junior on a diet and was constantly having him run laps. Sure, if his dad was angry he would grip onto Junior’s shoulders so tightly that he would leave bruises—bruises that would be obvious right now if he didn’t have a shirt on. But that didn’t mean that he wanted to kill the only adult left in his family.

And then his dad called him and his mom a “quitter”.

What happened next was something he couldn’t quite process just yet.

His dad started to go downstairs and without thinking, Junior’s temper got the best of him.

He pushed him down the stairs.

His dad stumbled forward and then fell, smacking his head what looked like a hundred times before finally making it to the bottom…

…and a pool of blood began forming from his skull and slowly surrounding his body.

After that, it was like a blur.

Everything seemed to go far too fast for Junior to control and the next thing he knew, he was at Chucky’s house with that blonde woman that looked so familiar, Tiffany.

Wasn’t he supposed to feel different now? His dad was dead, Junior was finally free…but why didn’t he feel free? He didn’t feel safe. He couldn’t even eat the chocolate chip cookies that Tiffany gave him, his stomach was just twisting in knots.

One door, one…two…three…four windows. He noted in his head, going back to a habit he had whenever his dad yelled at him, counting every single exit strategy he could find.

It felt like he might need it, with all the Chucky dolls that were in the room and the other woman that called herself Chucky. Something about her seemed so bold yet also mean. But it’s not like Junior had anywhere else to go. He had no parents and he doubted that Jake would want to be around him. Junior was always a brat to him. Jake would rather be with Devon.

Except Devon was tied to a chair right now and kept staring at Junior, wanting him to help him. But there wasn’t anything Junior could do, he was too afraid. He just had to keep looking away.

At least Tiffany was nice to him, he could accept that. There was something almost motherly about her, but it made him want to cry if he focused too hard on that.

He missed his mom so much…

“Well, I don’t see a lady.” Junior suddenly heard the woman Chucky say to Tiffany, having been so distracted that he missed almost the entire conversation. The way woman Chucky stood up and faced off to Tiffany reminded Junior far too much of his father’s intimidating stance.

Before he had time to really try and find more similarities, Tiffany smacked the woman Chucky so hard she fell to the floor and the slap was almost loud enough to echo in the entire room.

Junior gasped and jumped, his eyes now locked on the fallen woman. Then, it was like something strange happened. She seemed to have woken up, looked around the room in both confusion and horror, and then looked right at him.

Suddenly, she didn’t look like she did before. She looked almost afraid and panicked.

Maybe it was because Tiffany hit her? He thought to himself.

Then Chucky, the one in the doll that Junior had been carrying on him until he got to the house, told Tiffany to kill her.

Tiffany looked like she was about to cry but the woman Chucky didn’t look at her. She kept looking at Junior instead, staring at him in a way as if she was trying to figure out why he was here. But she should’ve known that since he had been there for almost an hour, right?

“Junior, kill her!”

Junior was snapped out of it, blinking a few times as he stared at the doll. “W…what?”

“Come on, you already bumped your dad off already! She shouldn’t be any different, she can’t even move!” Chucky snapped at him, once again reminiscent of his father.

Junior looked down at the woman again and she was shaking her head just slightly. This time instead of looking fearful, she held a comforting gaze, whispering something to him about how it was going to be okay. He wasn’t sure if that was actually what she was saying, there was a roaring in his ears and his heart was racing far too fast. He couldn’t breathe and soon his vision blurred with tears filling his eyes.

I don’t want to do this!

I don’t want to kill anyone!

I just want Jake!

I want my mom!

I want to go home!

A small squeak of distress left Junior’s lips and then Tiffany was lunging at the doll Chucky with what looked to be a small knife in her hand. Before he could keep watching, the woman Chucky’s hand grasped onto his shirt and tugged him down, moving to his knees. Then her hands were around his face, a gentle grip on him to keep his face right in front of hers.

“Look at me, okay?” She said quickly. “Don’t look behind me, just look at me. You don’t need to see that.”

She was probably right because Junior wasn’t sure if he did want to see since he could hear both Tiffany and doll Chucky screaming, so he kept his eyes on the other woman.

“What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your name, kiddo?”

“J-Junior…Junior Wheeler.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Junior. I’m Nica, Nica Pierce.”

“I thought your name was Chu—”

“I’m not him,” Nica quickly said, “He…he’s not here right now, I am. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” She spoke in a reassuring tone and even though Junior wasn’t sure if he believed her, something about her genuine eyes made him think that he’ll be okay.

“How old are you?” She asked this time.

“Nine.”

“You’re so young…are you in fourth grade?”

Junior shook his head. “Third.”

“What’s your favorite subject?”

“English…I like reading.”

“That’s good, reading is really important.” Nica smiled softly at him and Junior couldn’t help but to return the smile.

“Do you like music?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“What’s your favorite song?”

“...‘We Got The Beat’ by The Go-Go’s.”

“The Go-Go’s? You got good taste, kid.” She chuckled a little.

Chucky’s voice screaming out cut off the questions, “YOU FUCKI–!”

Nica’s hands moved up from his cheeks to his ears, cupping them in an attempt to block the sound of the angry doll’s cursing. Junior couldn’t hear what exactly she was saying but through the muffled noise, he could understand enough that she was telling him that it’ll be okay and to breathe.

He didn’t understand the “breathe” part at first until he noticed that his breathing had picked up again. Junior kept looking at Nica and started mimicking her own breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth. The more he looked at her, the more he realized that her eyes were gentle and comforting, as if all she cared about in that moment was him.

It reminded him so much of the way his mom would look at him.

And somehow, in all that chaos, he started to feel safe.

For just a brief moment, Junior looked over Nica’s shoulder to see Tiffany starting to approach them, a needle in her hand. “What are you doing?” He blurted out without thinking, not entirely sure if the needle was meant for him or for her.

Nica seemed to know the answer because she whipped and immediately moved herself up enough–somehow not moving her legs despite Junior having seen her walking before–to shield him with her own body, and even had her arms out to make sure he stayed behind her. “Tiffany, please. Let Junior go. He’s just a child.”

“I’m not gonna hurt him! I’d never hurt him,” Tiffany said as she waved around the needle, certainly not making Junior feel relieved over her comment, “besides, he has no father anymore. No mother. And every little boy needs a mother.”

“And you think you’ll be a good enough mother for him? Tiffany, you’re a murderer.” Nica spat out, venom in her voice.

“So is he,” Tiffany retorted in a casual tone, “he pushed his daddy down the stairs. He already has such great potential!”

“I didn’t mean to…” Junior whispered so quietly he barely heard himself. But Nica must have, because she didn’t move away from him at all. In fact, she moved herself just enough that she almost completely blocked his view of Tiffany with her head.

“You manipulated him,” Nica started, “you and Chucky both did. What he needs is stability and he sure isn’t going to get it from you.”

“Of course he will! He’ll be with us!” Tiffany replied enthusiastically and took another step closer to the both of them. “My twins are getting older, they’ll be adults soon and they’re off doing their own things. But with you…we can start over! We can raise Junior and be a happy little family!”

Twins? Junior thought to himself, unaware that Tiffany and possibly even Chucky had children. What did that mean? Were they humans like Tiffany? Or dolls like Chucky? Junior doubted he’d get an answer nor did he fully believe that he wanted an answer anyway.

Once again looking over someone’s shoulder, there was a man. He didn’t recognize him but there was a gun in his hand, looking at Devon and then at the three of them. Junior opened his mouth to say something but Nica beat him to it.

“You really think that you’re capable of having a family and being happy?” Nica laughed sarcastically, almost sounding like Chucky for a moment. “You’re not. Everything you touch, you destroy. You don’t know how to love…and you certainly don’t deserve love either.”

Tiffany looked at Nica as if she had been the one to get slapped, shaking her head with tears now in her eyes. “No…that’s not you saying that, Nica baby. That’s Chucky.”

Nica leaned a little more forward to face Tiffany, away from Junior and he was now able to see the man getting closer as quietly as he could until he was almost right behind Tiffany. “Oh no, Tiff…this is all me. Not Chucky. Me.” She said strongly, keeping herself in front of Junior.

Before Tiffany could do anything, the other end of the gun that the man was holding connected to her head. He must have hit her much harder than when she hit Nica just a few minutes ago because she was unconscious before hitting the ground.

There was silence for maybe a second or two before the man pointed his gun at Nica. “Kid, get away from her!”

Junior’s eyes widened and he tried to throw himself in front of Nica. “No!”

His attempt failed because Nica immediately used her arm to push him back behind her. “Junior, stay back!” She told him quickly and kept herself in front of him in a protective manner.

The man still had the gun pointed at them, more at Nica but Junior was right behind her, but she began speaking to the man. “You’re Andy, right?” Nica asked him and Junior supposed that she took his silence for a yes. “I’m Nica. Chucky, he-he possessed me but I’m not him, I’m me. I’m in control right now.”

The man—Andy—didn’t seem to believe her so Junior managed to speak up. “It’s-it’s true…Tiffany hit her and then she was Nica. She’s nice to me…please don’t kill her…please…”

Junior started to find it hard to breathe, tears filling his eyes once more just as Nica spoke again. “Andy, please. I’m not going to hurt anyone, just please put the gun down…you’re scaring him.”

Andy looked right at Junior, not saying anything before he slowly lowered his gun and Junior felt like he could breathe again. “Are you Junior?” Andy asked him and he nodded after a moment. “Your cousin, Jake, told me to find you.”

Jake’s okay…he wanted to find me…I’m not a brat to him! He must love me then! Junior thought to himself but decided not to voice them out loud. Instead, he looked over at Devon and pointed at him. “Chucky tied Devon up. He needs help.”

Andy nodded and put his gun in his pocket, going over to untie Devon. Junior managed to hear Nica quietly say something along the lines of, “Did I do that?” before she turned her attention back to Junior and cupped his face softly. “You okay, honey?”

“Uh huh.” He nodded, no longer feeling like he was about to burst into tears. That was a good thing, his father would complain about him not being a man if he did end up crying.

Nica smiled gently at him, her eyes so caring. “We’re going to get you out of here, okay? You’re gonna be back with your cousin and be safe and sound before you know it.”

“But…what about you? You’re coming with me, right?”

“I can’t stay here, I don’t know what Tiffany will do to me. So I’ll be leaving too,” Nica reassured him and smiled at Junior again, “we’ll figure everything out together. You ready to go, Jun?”

He didn’t know what was going to happen next. Where he or Jake will go, what will happen to Nica. He hated not knowing. But he didn’t have any other choice. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t stay with killers even though he was one now.

So Junior nodded and looked at Nica as bravely as he could.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

#Luna talks #admin #Chucky #Chucky 2021 #Child’s Play #Junior Wheeler #Nica Pierce #Andy Barclay #Tiffany Valentine #Charles Lee Ray #Devon Evans #Jake Wheeler #Logan Wheeler #Little Junior AU #Little Junior Wheeler #Chucky fic #AU

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