#vine is not mine okay

[uprtinhisheart-blog]

Okay i saw this vine and couldn’t resist!

My au!human!Donatello from rottmnt

[st4rbwrry]

━━━ 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑚𝑒. a.h

warnings 𑄽𑄺 6.4k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, murder mystery, aki is a chef, oral [ f + m.], sneaking away, marijuana use, praise, fingering + finger sucking, aki's tongue is pierced, sexual acts happen quick, mentions of depression, brief mention of emotional/physical abuse, reader is desperate for help/attention, parental neglect, grooming, minors aren’t allowed.

━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; another old piece of mine i never fully finished and now posting yrs later!

“okay, i'm out!" aki is shouting as he tosses his white chef coat over his shoulder, book bag on the other, the cool breeze of spring blowing through his raven hair the minute he opened the tall glass door that led to the front of the restaurant. his friend, also a coworker, is busy, in the mix of gathering dirty dishes and clearing trash bins but still sends him a farewell, a quick, 'see ya tomorrow. good job today!' till he's off to his bus stop. he was thankful he got out early, just before five in the afternoon meaning the sun hadn't set yet.

he sighs, extremely worn out, in dire need of a steamy hot shower and a greasy pizza while laying in the comfort of, finally, his own apartment he worked entirely too hard to gain. the commute to his place in brooklyn, new york became rather annoying due to rush hour traffic at this time. having to take the bus then switch to the 'n' train, hopping off and walking fifteen minutes until he finally reaches his destination. his second goal was to afford a vehicle to save him money instead of wasting it on expensive monthly metro cards.

aki's lived here his entire life, growing up in the bronx, not much different. he loved new york, but not their uppity expenses. the fact that he's paying nearly two grand for a 600 square-foot apartment with no in-unit laundry nor a gym at that, was nonsensical. did he want to reside here forever? yes. he'd feel homesick if he ever were to leave. having the opportunity to travel seemed like a much better alternative, that way he'd still have his home but be anywhere in the world doing what he loved, and that was cooking. aki hayakawa was twenty-six years old, earning his master's in culinary arts at the culinary institute of america, also known as the C.I.A.

his ultimate dream was to open his restaurant, which he would name after his tragically deceased mother. a terrible accident in which he dreads the memory of. falling endlessly into a black hole, hearing nothing but the sound of his own fear, the breaking of his bones when it interacted with brick interior, the feeling of his heart thumping excessively against his chest as he continued to drop deeper like a rock that was chucked down an empty well. this emotion he knew all too well; failure. when he lost his mother, it felt as if the world crumbled beneath him, malicious dark vines slithering up to grab him by his ankles and pull him down a bottomless pit of nothingness.

he tasted the agony, the anger, the sadness, and even the hate from the fact that she was gone and never coming back. countless tantrums, anxiety attacks, and depression summed up the apathy of it all. it took him six years to realize that drowning in pain would never help him gain the strength that he knew she wanted him to have. by letting her witness the pain he was going through from above, he was hurting not only her . . but himself. so to overcome the tragedy, he kept himself busy with cooking. going to school, earning his degree, and the current job he had with his best friend since middle school.

school was probably the greatest thing he'd ever done to reinvent who he was as a person. cooking is a delicate yet challenging obstacle to undertake, yet, it's so therapeutic to him. the nature of it all, being able to witness what he can do for many people, bring laughter and happiness—it's a beautiful thing. when aki was small, he and his mother would give back to people all the time. whether they were donating clothes to the homeless, or feeding small pigeons pieces of bread on a sunny day as they flew to the gray pavement, awaiting a feast. they always cared about others. they would experiment a lot, going to food markets just to come home and whip up a good meal which they would then donate to the less fortunate. that's when he learned how humble he felt to give back to those in need.

he wanted to show his mother his achievements, to push himself and become a world-renowned chef, just like gordon ramsey—without the aggression. he wanted his name plastered on articles for his extraordinary talent, talked about on tv, in fact, given his own cooking show on foodnetwork. aki grew up watching that channel, an obsessive enticement his mother could never break the young boy from. he was making recipes at the age of twelve, and learned how to cook at eight. eggs were the first thing, usually everyone's first, then as time progressed, he grew from simple pasta dishes to revitalizing gourmet meats, and anything french. just recently he schooled himself on how to create wine. every day he learned something new, and that was the beauty of culinary.

"hayakawa! come here!" star yells as soon as she sees the tall man emerge through the front door, ready to start his morning shift, raspy voice laced with slight panic, instantly making the man run to her out of worry.

"what's wrong?" he furrows his brows.

"look who just fucking walked in," she grabs his bicep, pulling him closer to the front counter. aki curiously follows where her finger points, seeing a slim man with black curly hair dressed properly in a white and black suit. silver and sapphire rolex on his wrist, his pale green eyes scanning through the lens of his glasses at the menu while he sips his water. expensive.

"i have no idea who that is," aki blinks, making star gasp.

"he's alexander bodari, one of my favorite authors of all time. remember the novel i told you i was reading, about this girl who was kept in this lunatics basement and almost murdered?"

aki's eyebrows raise. "the book dylan bought you for your birthday, right?"

"yeah! that's him. oh my fucking god, i'm so nervous, whew," star begins to fan herself, nearly having a breakdown. aki grabs her shoulder and chuckles.

"chill out, star. you don't have to serve him if you don't want to."

"of course i do! i just. . . can't," she frowns.

"you can, you've done it many times before. this isn't the first celebrity we've come across."

star sighs, nodding. "you're right, i can do it."

"good girl," aki smiles, patting the top of her head. star catches his wrist and scowls.

"fuck off."

"aki," another voice calls to him, this time it's the head chef, also known as his boss. aki greets him with a small, 'good morning, chef' before waiting for his response.

"i'm guessing you know that alexander bodari is here," lane says, arms crossed over his broad chest. aki nods. "i want you to cook for him."

aki and star share a glance of shock.

"uh, why me. where's dylan?"

"he's not feeling well so i gave him the day off. you're the only one here that's near his level, and he's a higher-up man, so i want you to cook for him. star will cater to his needs. we're kinda short-staffed today, and i trust you two will handle it properly."

"yes, chef," they say in unison.

star was only a waiter, working here for four years while aki earned his position two years into her time. the last thing the woman could do was cook, ironic since she worked in a restaurant with very talented people. lane would've asked her in a heartbeat if she was as skilled as aki. aki was known for making dishes at the top of his head, so if anyone asked for a special, he was the one to ask. before they began to serve anyone inside, aki gave star a small prep talk before sending her out. eventually, she got through with taking his order without stuttering or sweating. when she walked back into the kitchen, actually shoved the doors open with a joker smile on her face, aki cocks his head at her.

"you—"

"he wants your special!" she screams, doing a goofy dance, and skipping in her spot.

aki's face drops. "are you deadass?"

"yes! when he was looking at the menu, he saw your four courses on the back and chose your mom's stew! fucking a, man!"

aki is still frozen, weakly giving star their signature handshake, smile slowly easing onto his face. "my mom's stew? seriously?"

"yeah. chop chop, get to it."

aki was persistent. no one's ever ordered his mother's stew, which made this day very special for him. even if the dish was only on the menu for a month, it still meant a lot to him. he made sure there were no distractions, taking a tender chuck roast and cutting them into cubes, seasoning them well while throwing in worcester sauce, balsamic vinegar, garlic cloves, bay leaves, and beef broth. making a slurry with flour and water to thicken the stew. adding onions and potatoes. it was a simple yet fulfilling dish he looked forward to every sunday.

"deep breaths," star whispered as she carried the steaming tray of stew plated professionally on a porcelain oval-shaped bowl. in a way, it felt like she was telling not only herself but him. it's a rarity that people order his courses, and serving this to an author, a bestseller, a man worth millions, made him giddy. he was cheesing like an idiot, pushing star out the double doors to the dining area.

although as soon as she walked out, that's when doubt clouded his gut. did he put too many seasonings? is the meat tender enough? what if he doesn't like it? will he write about it on his author blog? god, he hoped the potatoes weren't hard. he had only tasted the broth, it tasted just like his mother's. what if. . .

"aki," star walks back in, an even wider grin on her a-symmetrical face this time. he blinks, realizing that he's been standing here for three minutes now. "he wants to see the chef."

he's dumbfounded. "me?"

"no, lane. yes, you!" she's squealing like a girl, and sometimes he forgets she is one, even underneath her blunt features and boyish sense of style.

he's clearing his throat now, strolling mindlessly towards alexander bodari's table, greeting himself and waiting for his constructive criticism.

"you're aki hayakawa?" the man questioned, lifting his glasses back onto his face.

"yes, sir."

"i just have to say," alexander chuckles, softly clapping his hands. "this may be one of the best stews i've ever had."

the tenseness in aki's shoulders relaxes, and he's sighing with relief, alexander noticing and laughing. "i'm really glad to hear that, sir."

"did you create this on your own?"

"it's actually my mother's recipe. it's my favorite. every time i make it, it reminds me of her."

"that's really ironic because this reminds me of the stew my mother used to make," he grins. "yours is the first that i haven't seen carrots in."

aki laughs. "my mom hated cooked carrots."

"mine did too," he fixes his collar. "is this your restaurant?"

"no, no. i'm just a cook here. i plan on opening my own soon. i already have my master's."

his brows raise. "wow, that's amazing. wow old are you?"

"twenty-six, sir."

"well, you're definitely going places," he compliments and aki feels even more satisfied. "say what, i'm having this pre-book release, about a hundred guests. i was wondering if you would like to cater the party. i'll pay you however much you want."

it's like the whole world collapsed on his chest. he'd never gotten an opportunity like this, especially this big. to cook for so many famous people at once was a blessing. he could really show off his skills if he took this offer . . . and did. after thanking him, exchanging contacts, and then handshakes, aki lets the man finish his meal before jogging back into the kitchen to scream about it to aki, lane, and the rest of the crew. alexander offered star to come along to serve, but unfortunately she couldn't, seeming as she'd be out of town for family matters that day.

alexander, of course, knowing she was a big fan signed a copy of his book she already had in her bag and letting her know she could help the next time he had an event. that made her happy enough. the two of them couldn't wait to finish their shifts today, taking the train to star's place and planning dishes all night, even cooking them to get them just right. alexander was hosting the party at his penthouse down soho. and aki had a week to prepare himself.

୨♡୧

cashmere sweaters, silk gowns, and jewelry that most likely cost more than his savings account roamed the lovely terrace of alexander bodari's home. every inch of it screamed filthy rich. rows of tables were set outside, the dark night sky making the moon shun brightly amongst the glass centerpieces filled with calla lilies and moss. white cloths, sterling silverware, and porcelain dinnerware. the terrace itself was elegant; freshly cut bushes trimmed as squares, a marble three-tiered italian water fountain placed in the middle. roses, dandelions, tall plants ranging from bamboo, snake plants, and pothos. alexander was very in touch with nature and his spirit. it's crazy he writes about the things he does.

speaking of, the book he was presenting that would be released in august was titled, 'to riven a magnolia.' he wouldn't quite reveal what it was about yet, wanting it to be a surprise, but did read an excerpt from the novel. aki only paid half attention, big words throwing him off plus he wanted to set the food table properly so guests could take what they wanted after his reading. aki didn't go all out since only seventy-two people were available to make it, and he didn't want any meals that would make anyone too full to converse, so he kept it simple yet exquisite. each guest received a slice of japanese fluffy cheesecake with a side of strawberry and mandarin orange tanghulu. beef wellington, and a six-sided cream garlic bread.

he received praise all night long. people gasping and thanking him for the food, giving him all sorts of compliments making the man blush like a child. at one point he held both sides of his face in his palms when a woman and her husband approached him to talk, way too shy, and the woman flirting with him didn't make it go away. eventually, her husband dragged her out of his sight. the night went on, classical music played as people sipped their champagne and talked about their wealth, their yoga classes, their thousand dollar dogs, golf, marketing . . . aki hopes he never becomes this way.

as he's pouring an elderly lady a glass as she rambles about baking, he notices a woman he's barely seen all night. he's disoriented, eyeing this girl leaning up against a vintage roman painting reaching the ceiling once the lady departs. brown eyes; the first captivating part of her body he captured. they appeared lonely, bored perhaps as they scanned through the crowd of people, soon landing on another pair, his own. the godly woman stared at him longingly. aki had no business nearly losing his shit under her gaze. wow. she was truly stunning.

one feature that stood out the most were the freckles scattered from the bridge of her nose to the swell of her cheekbones. pretty. her black hair styled protectively in butterfly locs that grazed her collarbones, seeing the industrial piercing hiding behind a piece. her lashes were long, naturally extended. heart-shaped lips were full and pouty, the upper lip brown while the lower, salmon pigmented. an emerald satin mini dress loosely clung to her alluring brown skin. cowl neckline, ruched waist, and an open back partially revealing the red dragon tattoo painted on the side of her hip. black suede gucci heels strapped prettily around her ankles, showcasing her white painted toenails. a three layered gold necklace on her chest. this woman, you, were the rationale of celestial.

it was the moment you smiled at him, tilting your head slightly to the side while tapping your ombré acrylic nail amongst the glass of your champagne, calling to him while he thoughtlessly followed, that aki would realize he had made one of the worst mistakes in his life.

"you're pretty."

it's the first thing you say when he walks towards you, offering a piece of cheesecake with a cheeky smile. aki is taken aback, chuckling nervously, palms already clammy the minute he approached you.

"pretty?" he's perplexed.

"that's what i said," you say, taking the gold fork from his palm and cutting a slice to taste, widening your mouth while maintaining eye contact. the man swallows.

"uh, i've never gotten that before. thank you."

you're too busy eyeing him to say a thing. even if he dressed in simple black skinny jeans and same color tee, a silver necklace tucked beneath his shirt, sable combat boots, and a white apron around his waist . . he looked damn good. his eyes were blue, somewhat smoke gray, dark hair long and straight, the top half tucked into a small messy bun on the back of his head. a few loose strands swaying around his cheekbones. he was tall, shoulders broad, forearms and hands slightly veiny. you gazed at his hands holding the plate for you, wide and rough, fingers long.

"you don't seem to be enjoying the party," he says, knocking you out of your daydream.

you hum with displeasure. "he's a fake."

aki furrows his brows. "sorry?"

"alex, he's unoriginal. most of his novels are stolen by people he pays to keep quiet," you side-eye him while downing the last drop of your champagne, slowly licking your lips. his eyes flicker there for a split moment.

"how do you know?"

the question makes you quiet, tapping your glass. "think of it like this; everyone starts off as a cocoon. eventually as time goes by, we evolve into butterflies. the cocoon represents our innocence; the purity and unawareness of what's to come in life. once we sprout into butterflies, we become tarnished, facing the real world and learning to adapt to its cruelty. life can be beautiful, but it's always painful no matter how happy or dismal we are. it's our choice to fly in the direction we want for ourselves even when the harshness of life beats us down. butterflies only live for so long. we disintegrate after inhumane amounts of stress, loneliness, or tragic events that take a toll on us, removing the power of staying beautiful. we show beauty to the public but don't feel it when everything around us is falling apart. but we can't make life harder on ourselves by dwelling on what we can't have rather than pushing for what we can have."

aki is speechless, half-understanding what you meant. "are you saying alexander is a butterfly that can't fly?"

"he's more like a mosquito, latching onto those who want to sprout into a butterfly but sucks the nutrients from them for his pleasure. he's a fraud. he'll never be a butterfly because he simply can't."

"did he steal from you? is that why you resent him?"

"no," you bluntly state, although aki doesn't believe you.

he takes the fork from you, cutting you another slice before holding it towards your lips, waiting for you to bite. you looked like you needed it. the drowsiness in your eyes may have indicated that you were tipsy. you giggle, shaking your head before he feeds you, your big eyes captivating him more. "is there something you want?"

"you."

aki nearly chokes and he's not even the one eating, your bluntness throwing him in a spiral of emotions.

"am i beautiful to you?" you lean closer, aki swallowing, scanning his surroundings. most of everyone remained in the living area, the two of you far behind a wall near the glass door of the terrace. he could smell your scent better, a sweet smell of caramel. soft skin shimmering with glitter.

"very."

"so what's stopping you? you got a girlfriend or somethin'?"

"n-no, it's just. i barely know you."

"that's part of the thrill," he watches as your small wrist turns and your palm is flat outward. "come upstairs with me."

like any man would, his feet walked on their own, stupidly following behind you up the black marble staircase, hand in yours as his eyes watched your hips switch.

"what's your name?" that should've been the first thing you asked, idiot.

"[♡]."

"i'm aki."

"i know who you are."

that's right, alexander introduced him to everyone after his reading right before supper. things felt like they went too quickly. aki didn't know who he was at this moment, completely floating out of his body and letting you take over like a spell. he was entranced. one thing leads to another, you're locking the door to one of the four bedrooms here. aki's sitting on the bed while you walk around, talking to him more about anything. his age, his aspirations in life. nonsense, basically. until he notices something.

a room with an open bay window revealing the late-night city of new york, stars in the sky, skyscrapers high. the breeze is warm, the air making the fabric of your dress rise just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the pink thong you wore. he's gulping, your legs shifting and a grin coming on your face as you see the tint of red blush across his cheeks. you're leaned against the window, toes pressing into your other foot, a gold anklet with the first letter of your name clasped on your skin. your shoes were off, and in between your two fingers sat a blunt, maybe about three inches now since you were too busy talking, letting it burn away.

once you flick it out the window, you fully turn to face him, sharp nails skidding up your thighs teasingly slow until the hem of your dress rises fully, and he's staring at the belly button piercing you have. your thick thighs, your curves, and your nipple when you moan and lift your arms to stretch and one of the straps falls down your shoulders.

"oops," you're pouting, and aki's had enough. he got it now. he understood why you wanted him to come up here. the liquor buzzing in your veins, and going straight to your clit like a drug. you wanted him the moment you saw him. you needed him, for more reasons than one.

aki was always one to put a woman's pleasure before his own. so when he saw you drop to your knees to crawl towards him, dainty hands trailing up his clothed thighs until you're undoing his belt and he's biting his lip. . . he was drawn in further. pulling him out of the confinement of his jeans, holding his pulsating dick in your hand, darting your tongue out, and pressing it flat to the aching head. he's squeezing his eyes shut when he's deep in your throat after a while, moaning around him and twisting your hand along as your mouth glides. his hand is in your hair, gathering some of it in his large fist while leaning back a bit to see those gorgeous eyes of yours stare into his, slightly watery. he liked that. he liked you.

"nnn, baby. like that," he's throwing his head back, jaw slacked as he tried to keep his voice down, not daring to let too much slip out regarding the guests below them. eyes back on you, he's watching as your hips gyrate in the air, desperately needing to be touched.

it's so foreign, this level of intimacy. it's been so long since he's had his dick buried deep in anything. sure, he masturbates like any other human being, but it's a rarity. he's so consumed in work that by the time he goes home he's knocked out in slumber, not even thinking about grabbing his fleshlight to fulfill his pleasure. the last time he had sex was at the beginning of his freshman year of college. it was some girl in his cutlery class who invited him over for late-night drinks, leading to more than just that. it was frequent until he realized he was failing courses because of the distraction and had to get back on track, so, he called it quits.

now he's pulling you up, feverishly pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss, lips smacking, tongues bumping. you're keening when his thick fingers clasp around your throat as you straddle his waist, clinging to his shirt you eventually pull over his head. it's as if the both of you forgot that people were here and might hear you, but neither of you cared. aki's not even scolding you when you're moaning too loud the second he has you beneath him, your clothing still on, barely, and his jeans and briefs clinging to his ankles, your knees to your chest as his hot mouth latches around your puffy clit, back arching off the plush mattress.

the metal from his pierced tongue rushing against you as he holds the back of one of your thighs to keep them up, grunting and swallowing your arousal. you're whining so much it has his dick twitching, pulling on his hair not helping either. you're rocking your hips with urgency, legs twitching after he lifts his head to spit, collecting his saliva with two fingers before curling them into you, holding your stomach down while he shakes his fingers. that alone has you convulsing around him, tears in your eyes as you whimper his name and squirm helplessly, his lips kissing your inner thighs.

coming down from your high, aki's already propping himself behind you, turning you on your side while he laid on his, leveraging your head with his forearm underneath your neck, fingers in your mouth you suck while glaring at him. he curses, monotoned voice rasping, "don't do that."

"do what?" you hum, wrapping your lips around them again and moaning.

aki clenches his jaw, lifting your right leg to open you up before slipping inside, hearing you gasp as you adjust to the stretch. both of you groan in unison, turning your face to the side to kiss him while your nails clawed at his hip, then his ass as he rolls into you, too horny to be gentle and snapping his hips hard against your ass, grunting, "i heard you, girl," and drilling faster. your eyes scroll to the back of your head, aki swallowing the breath out of you as he sucks on your bottom lip and chokes you, the two of you whining in each other's mouth, muffling the noise although the skin interaction didn't cease.

he's brutal, a different person when in this form of bond. dropping your leg and reaching between to rub at your clit, heavy breaths on your neck as he hides his face there. you can easily smell the citrus scent of his shampoo, his scent overall a main attraction when he stepped toward you. . . like lavender. when he's nearing his climax, he gropes your chest, slurring, "be a good girl and cum all over me, baby. can i feel it this time?" and you nod, doing just as he says, his taunts and praises making your gut swim with butterflies.

you try not to scream as he licks and bites your neck sloppily, dazed. instead, you grab a pillow nearby and stuff part of it in your mouth, aki's face hovering over you as tears leak from your eyes and you cum hard, harder than you ever had. aki holds you close by your waist, taking a few more pumps before he furrows his brows and slowly pulls out, cumming on your flush skin with a hiss. by this time, his hair had fallen down his face completely, and even in your fucked out state, you reach up to rake through it with a lazy smile. aki chuckles, kissing your forehead before building the strength to find a cloth to clean you up. luckily, there's an en-suite bathroom, giving him access to warm water and toiletries.

fixing his posture in the mirror, he's rubbing his face and adjusting his clothes to appear as he did when he arrived; neat and professional. although what he just did wasn't so classy of him. he fucked some woman he barely knew at a millionaires home. work, he was working. not here for personal pleasure. he wanted to slap himself for being so easily enraptured. no one had to know about it. he only hoped not a soul downstairs heard what went on.

he's good to go, done scolding himself and turning off the bathroom light before stepping out. he finds you perched up, sipping a miniature bottle of crown royal you found in the bedside mini-fridge, sniffling your nose and blankly staring out the window. aki comes forward, gently grasping your thigh and gliding the wet cloth over your skin, the silence awkward.

"dandelions.”

aki's eyes slowly drift to your face, staring in confusion. "what?"

he notices how eerily slow tears built up in your eyes, gripping the bottle harder before exhaling. "dandelions," now you're finally looking at him, the coldness on your face making him anxious. "that's where his body is."

your voice is like vanilla. it's one thing about you that he grew infatuated with. it's one of the many reasons he was captured by you, brought to where he was now. standing at the bedside as he watched tears pool down your broken face. body? what body?  he grew cold, nervously eyeing you as you sniffled, standing to fix your hair, dress, and walking around the bed to slip back into your heels.

“wait," he goes to grab your arm when you try to walk out the door. "what the fuck are you talking about?"

the deadness in your eyes scares him even more, and he's panicking when you say, "alex."

“alexander?!" he shouts, dragging you away from the exit, hands on either side of your shoulders as he eyes you, his own wide. heart pumping drastically. "what did you do? where is he?"

"by the dandelions on the terrace," blunt, again. as if you aren't phased at all by his reaction. "follow me."

he's stunned, unable to fully process what you were telling him. he already assumed the worst when the term 'body' came to light. though his heart raced heavily in his chest, his feet blindly dragged in your direction. cautiously watching your every move in case he had to protect himself. fuck, he didn't have any weapon. then again, he's sure he could easily handle you, knock you out if he needed to. lock you in a closet and alert the hundreds of guest just below their feet. that's right, there are still people here. and if you mentioned alexander, how the fuck and when the fuck did you have the time to . . . kill him? 

"[♡]," he began to speak your name, but your head was in the clouds, ignoring anything that came out of his mouth as you cut into a passageway that led to a grand master bedroom, then facing the terrace you spoke of. he was nervous, your neck turning to eye him as you step onto the gravel, blankly staring down at something. he couldn't see from where he stood, matter of fact, he didn't want to see.

"he's here," you say. "he's here."

aki has no choice but to advance forward, wanting to squeeze his eyes shut from the upcoming scare of a human’s body. and not just any human, the alexander bodari. a flaccid arm sticks out from beside a bush, palm facing the sky, details of a struggle bruised into his hand as the skin in the area seemed peeled. aki’s heart drops the closer he gets, hand covering his mouth as he stares down at the lifeless body laying in a pool of blood. the aluminum wire draped around his neck stained with blood gave aki the answer he needed when it came to the cause. you strangled him to death. the question remains; who are you and how were you affiliated with alexander? most importantly, why’d you kill him?

“i don’t understand,” is all he can get out.

“the proof is in his first novel,” you utter, and he’s still confused. “the story about the woman who’s trapped in the psychopaths basement? it was about me.”

aki couldn’t grasp the thought of you being the woman from the novel star always talked about. that you had been the victim of his story. that it was a real life phenomena. that he met you, slept with you, and now you want him to, what . . . cover up a murder in a house filled with two hundred guests?

“he painted this image as if he was the most prestigious man on the planet. he made money off of real events. events that played out by torturing me, and using me to get his ‘creative juices flowing.’ he needed a test subject. he was a sick man who deserved to die,” tears pour down your face, the anger in your tone thick and pent up from years of pain and sorrow. “he was my father’s partner. my father despised me simply because of my resemblance of my mother and my rebellion against him. when he died from heart failure, in his will, he married me to alex.”

“that’s fucking. . . sick. i didn’t think that was possible in this day and age.”

you scoff with agreement. “yeah. he watched me grow from a preteen to making me his wife. sick bastard for sure.”

aki wants to vomit from this information. still unable to wrap his head around any of it. his hands sit on his hips as he stares up at the sky and blows a raspberry, try to keep his nerves together. you watch him with sadness, and maybe regret. you weren’t intentionally planning for this to happen. though part of you wanted someone to save you. to see the real you and rescue you from this torment.

“i know this is probably the last thing you expected to happen. i apologize for dragging you into this. i just didn’t know what else to do. i felt hopeless. and i refused to let his popularity run by making another fortune of a sick novel.”

“did he attack you?” he asks.

“he didn’t,” you clarify. “i think i just finally snapped. granted, tonight of all nights wasn’t the correct setting.”

aki makes a face that reads ‘fucking clearly’ as he rubs both palms down his face. he doesn’t know whether to run and call you insane or feel sympathy for a victim. but, murder is murder. and now, standing here with you, that’d make him an accomplice. as scary as that was, he couldn’t risk his future career. but he was stuck in a pickle. he wanted to help you.

“there are clear signs of struggle, so we have to make it look like an accident,” aki suggests, but immediately, you shake your head in disagreement.

“they won’t believe that. he’s one of the wealthiest men in new york. it’ll be a huge investigation.”

“then the only answer would be to tell the truth,” he finalized.

“the . . truth?”

aki nods, pulling you toward him and stepping away from the body, chills still going up his spin and goosebumps on his arms. “listen to me, you can tell the world exactly who you are and what he’s done to you. you have proof. transactions, marriage certificate, i’m sure there’s documents for days in his computer that can prove what he’s put you through. there’s evidence somewhere.”

“and if i tell the world, who’s to say they’ll believe me?”

“i believe you,” aki says. your eyes fill with hope, and thankfulness. “people will have their opinions, but we know the truth. do you have anyone else that can be your alibi?”

you think long and hard, until it hits you. “the maid. she’s been working for him ever since i moved in after my father died. she’s fed me, helped me heal wounds . . even get rid of his unborn child i lost after too much stress.”

“jesus christ,” he bows his head in disbelief. “where is she now?”

“luckily, the kitchen. the woman with the braided red hair. she promised me she’d always protect me. after his book succeeded he became nicer to me, gave me a ‘real’ marriage. she was like his mother, always scolding him when he raised his voice at me or wouldn’t let me live my life. it’s all so depressing.”

“okay. it’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” aki comforts you as you begin to sob once again, cradling your head in his chest.

the night ends in the blink of an eye. aki takes you into another room and wraps a blanket around you as you sit on the edge of the bed and wait for the police. he finds the woman you spoke of, pulls her to the side and informs her of the tragedy above. she herself looks relieved. not at all shocked by what played out, as if she knew you’d go through with it. aki guesses he truly was a horrible man. and to think he would’ve worked for him in the future. the police arrive shortly after the woman goes to check on you, insuring that everything would be okay, and that she’d stick to the full story. the police instructs everyone the leave the premises, aki being questioned for a full hour, this home becoming a crime scene, and all of their faces full of black ink on the daily news the next morning.

aki will never forget the chilling smirk on your face as they removed alexander’s body from the terrace. it was . . haunting.

[ye-olde-trojan-horse]

jegulus + wolfstar playing monopoly

Regulus would refuse to sell / trade any property with Sirius... ever, under any circumstances. (It's giving "if we go down, then we go down together".)

sirius: I need old kent road... wiling to sell brother mine?

regulus: you're not getting it.

sirius: I'll trade you mayfair.

regulus: fuck off.

Conversely, James would sell / trade anything with Regulus if he asked nicely... and Reg would absolutely abuse this power.

regulus: honey, would you mind selling me vine street?

james: oh for sure, here you go.

regulus: how much?

james: oh nothing it's okay :D

sirius: YOU HAVE TO PAY HIM, THAT'S CHEATING!

regulus: pleasure doing business james. *winks* james: *blushes* did I do good?

James would lose horribly, because of the aforementioned reasons... and be really sad about the fact that he is broke at the end :(

remus: james, this game is a metaphor for capitalism.

james: wow, capitalism is stupid. I get it now. :(

Sirius' main objective in the game isn't even necessarily to win - it's to get the red three, Trafalgar square, Fleet Street and the Strand because istg there is always one in every group who does that. If Sirius wins without those three, then it feels like a hollow victory. I will not be taking questions.

*after the game*

remus: pads you won.

sirius: *sobbing* but it doesn't mean anything remus: *exasperated sigh* It's okay, you're okay.

But in reality Remus would win. Because he is sensible and chooses the smart, not showy properties on the board. He would smirk every time someone landed on his train stations and quietly build his wealth.

Remus always wins. Remember this.

inspired by conversations with my moony, @carrythispictureforluck

[messysketchyobeyme]

Not a Nightmare

Lucifer/Reader

Summary:

Lucifer doesn't get nightmares, nor does he need comfort for one.

A/N:

Lucifer does pin MC down at one point, so keep that in mind!

Word Count: 1,578

---

The door to your bedroom creaked open. A sliver of light from the hallway shone against your face. You opened your eyes to see a tall figure standing in the doorframe. His fingers clung to the edge of the door, as his face peered inside your bedroom. His eyebrows perked up when he saw you staring back at him.

"I apologize," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I didn't mean to wake you." 

You rubbed your right eye with the back of your wrist. "That's okay, Lucifer. I wasn't sleeping anyway." You sat up, ignoring the way his fingers twitched. "What are you doing here anyway? Did you throw up?"

Lucifer's nose wrinkled in disgust. "No," he said, "I check up on everyone before I go to bed. It's grown into a habit of mine." There was a quick beat before he continued. "Since I have done what I set out to do, I suppose this is goodnight." 

He moved to close the door but stopped. You wouldn't say he was hesitating per se, but it did seem like he was waiting for something. You stared at Lucifer, already dressed in his blue silk pajamas. His hair was combed through, but a couple of unruly strands stuck up in the back of his head. You grinned.

"Aw, did poor wittle Lucifer have a bad dream?" You teased him. The end of your sentence was punctuated with a short chuckle.

Lucifer groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely like a swear. "I refuse to dignify that with a response."

"So, that's a yes."

"No. It's a no. I don't have nightmares."

You scoot over to the side of your bed. "Everyone has nightmares, silly. I mean, just last week Mammon told me about how he dreamt about a haunted peanut butter sandwich." You pulled down the blanket so that the spot next to you was uncovered. "Trust me. It was scarier than it sounds."

Lucifer scoffed. "Are you trying to compare me to Mammon?"

You fluffed up the pillow to your side. "I'm just saying that having nightmares is a perfectly normal part of growing up."

"Don't talk to me like I'm some child."

You smiled at him and tilted your head toward the space next to you. When he didn't budge, you said, "So…"

Lucifer's eyebrows furrowed together. It looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. "So what?"

"So, are you going to get into bed with me or not?"

Lucifer's lips pressed into a thin line. He opened the door wider. "Like I said, I only came here to check up on you. I'm not staying the night."

"Most people like to be comforted after having a nightmare."

"I did not have a nightmare."

You settled back into bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin. "Alright, fine. I get it. You didn't have a bad dream or whatever," you said. You tilted your head so that the hallway light was no longer hitting your face. "Well, I'm going to sleep. 'Night." 

You closed your eyes and waited to hear the familiar click of your door. When that didn't happen, you cracked open one eye. Lucifer was lingering in the doorway. He was giving you a long, hard stare like he was analyzing you under a microscope. 

"I could spare a few minutes," Lucifer said quietly.

"Then, what are you waiting for?" You looked expectantly at him, as he stepped inside your bedroom and closed the door behind him. He shuffled over to your bed. Without making a sound, he lifted the blanket and lay beside you. 

Your bed wasn't small by any means, but it wasn't made to hold two people. Even with the vines along the wall pressing against your back, Lucifer's shoulder was still touching you. You didn't mind. Lucifer's body warmth was a welcome comfort, especially when a certain someone turned off the heat at night to save electricity, despite being rich enough not to need to do that. 

Lucifer's scent took over your senses. He smelled a little like hell coffee. You wondered if he downed a cup before heading over here. You wouldn't be surprised considering the proximity of the kitchen to your room.

As he was getting comfortable, you asked, "Do you really check up on your brothers every night before bed?"

He nodded. "I do. I mainly do it to make sure Mammon isn't sneaking out to gamble all of our life savings at the casino, again."

"Is there another reason?”

Lucifer shot you an annoyed look before sighing. He turned away from you, focusing his attention on the ceiling. 

"You're right." Lucifer's voice was so quiet that you strained to hear him properly. "It's odd, but I can't seem to relax if I don't know where they are at night." He glanced over in your direction. "That includes you."

You let out an endeared huff of air. "You really care about them, huh?" It was sweet knowing how much he loved his brothers…and you, you guessed. You reached over and placed your hand on his chest. You felt the hammering of his heartbeat and sighed.

Lucifer laid his calloused hand on top of yours. You don’t think you’ve ever felt his bare hands before. It was rare to see him gloveless. For some inexplicable reason, your cheeks grew warm.

“I care about you, too.”

“I know.”

You lifted your hand out from under his hand. He flashed you a confused look before you started to squeeze his cheek between your thumb and forefinger. 

He huffed, “Stop that.” Lucifer shoved your hand away.

“Aw, but your cheeks are so soft and puffy.” You reached over to poke his cheek, but Lucifer was quick to stop you. “It’s fun.”

“They’re not puffy.” He smacked your arm aside. “I will leave if you don’t stop irritating me.”

“No, you won’t.” Before you could poke him again, Lucifer grabbed your wrist and pinned your arm to the bed. “Hey!” you protested, ready to fend him off with your other hand. He caught that one, too, and pinned it down next to your head for good measure.

Now, Lucifer was leaning over you. He was scowling, but you were hoping that there was at least some level of enjoyment hidden underneath his annoyed gaze. “I hope you’re ready for your punishment.”

“Punishment?” You swallowed anxiously. Being Lucifer’s soft spot, you were rarely the subject of any of his punishments, no matter how defiant and rude you were. (You suspected that he liked it when you did those things, but you never commented on it.)

You weren’t sure what Lucifer could be planning, but if it was anything similar to the stuff he forced onto his brothers, you have the right to be at least worried.

Lucifer moved so that he was holding both of your wrists in one hand over your head. “Be prepared to face my wrath.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Your mind reeled with all of the possible things Lucifer could do to you. He could…could…okay, you actually had no idea but there was no way it would be good.

Something pinched your cheek. You opened an eye to see Lucifer grinning at you. “What?” you said, your voice slightly muffled by Lucifer dragging your cheek out to the side.

He began poking at your cheek repeatedly. “You’re right. This is fun.” Lucifer chuckled. “You should have seen the look on your face.” When you stuck out your tongue, he said, “Now, now, there’s no need to resort to such childish methods.” He squeezed the sides of your lips, forcing you to make kissy faces at him. 

Lucifer started to give you a dreamy, far-off look. It wasn’t the type of expression you were used to seeing on a usually stoic demon. You had no idea what he was thinking about, and you weren’t keen on finding out. 

While Lucifer was distracted, you wiggled out of his grip. Before he could open his mouth to protest, you shoved him to the side and pinned him down on his back. “Got you,” you said.

You expected Lucifer to go back to being annoyed, but he started laughing, instead. It made you falter for a second. “S-sorry,” he managed to stutter out through his laughter. Lucifer tried speaking again once he began to calm down. “It’s just that…you’re…you are quite endearing.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said. 

Lucifer glanced at the clock at the far side of your wall. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you settle down and get some sleep? We both have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Excuse me? Why don’t I settle down? You’re the one who started this!” Despite your words, you moved to get off of Lucifer and laid back down in bed. You pulled the covers over yourself, and Lucifer did the same.

“I disagree,” Lucifer said, taking the time to tuck your comforter up to your chin. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you said.

“Good night.”

You closed your eyes. After a second or two, you called out into the dark, “Hey, Lucifer?”

“Yes?”

“Do you feel better? After your nightmare?”

There was a long period of silence. You wondered if Lucifer was going to start arguing with you again, but a low laugh stopped that line of thinking.

“Yes,” he muttered, “Yes, I do feel better.”

[becsabillion4]

take it out on me (carmen berzatto x reader)

so this is my first time posting a fic of mine on tumblr since i was 14 and i'm slightly terrified by the formatting but i posted this on ao3 yesterday and someone told me to post here too (<3) so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoy the thought of getting pounded by carmy in the walk-in

pairing : carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary : Carmy is having a terrible service, and you're sure some time in the walk-in will help him cool off (although it gets hotter in there than you might think).

word count : 4,410

tags: SMUT, rough sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, choking, semi-public sex, ending with soft carmy which makes it all okay, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and also this is NOT an advert for safe sex, it is merely a fantasy i have been playing with since my own days as a waitress and carmy has helped me to realise it. also i'm obsessed and i know y'all degenerates won't send help so instead i ask that you send me asks so i can write more about this wonderful man

Disorienting. Overwhelming. Stressful, painful, unrelenting. Burning your hand hard enough for it to stick to the pan, hard enough that you know on the way to the sink it’s too late, that you’ll bear the scar of that mistake for the rest of your life. Knives slicing always so close to your skin, living on the point of pain, focus trained so hard on the blade you can’t even blink. Shouting, screaming, the place could be on fire, and you wouldn’t look up from the art you’re creating. Flames licking at your apron. Beautiful.

Kitchens are the prison and the heart of a chef, and the one at The Bear is currently the pride and the bane of your life. Plating up your one billionth focaccia of the evening as Marcus rushes by holding a tray of cannolis aloft, you try to tune out Sydney shouting instructions to the new servers, trying to drill something, anything, into their panicked, under-developed skulls. 

But none of this worries you. What worries you is the ominous, creeping silence from the station to your right, where you know Carmy is cooking up not only the best food you’ve ever tasted, but an internal storm that is going to be unleashed any, second, now-

“Chefs! Where the fuck is my garnish? Tina, are you dead? ‘Cos you need to wake the fuck back up.”

Tina is already by Carmy’s side with the garnish, but the damage is done. She doesn’t bristle at his words, but shoots you a worried look as she slides by, murmuring, “Sorry, Chefs. Behind.”

Since you started working at The Bear six months back, you’ve witnessed a rare few Carmy outbursts, and you know everyone feels the same way when they happen. It’s like the moment you miss a step on familiar stairs, stomach lurching and fear sweeping through your body. Carmy is this kitchen, and his boiling point is the moment things tend to spin out of control. 

And yet, Tina’s reaction is everyone’s; disappointment in herself, instant forgiveness because she knows Carmy is doing everything he can for this team. Last week, after you and Sydney spent the evening getting wasted on her couch, she’d confessed to you how hard Carmy took his notorious opening night failure, and how he’s been struggling to make up for it since then. And it’s been working; his kindness, patience, and passion for elevating those around him have always outshone the occasional harsh word during service.

But this service is just bad. It’s been bad since 5AM, when you got here to take in the delivery and found out that the grapes needed for the welcome broth had somehow been left off of the order. It’s been bad since Marcus ruined three batches of cannolis in a row, and when Sydney tried to touch his shoulder and ask him what was going on, he stormed out. Since Sydney snapped at Richie for singing Taylor Swift badly during family. The hundred little underlying frissons of tension that normally dissipate as soon as service rolls around have congealed today, like oil in balsamic vinegar, rubbing together but refusing to meld into the team you know everyone can be.

And you know Carmy can feel it. His anger is a physical thing beside you, like standing next to a hot pan with too much oil in it and just waiting for it to start spitting at you. Knowing you have to keep stirring it anyway.

“Four top, two steak, one bucatini, one fish,” Sydney rattles off, and everyone responds “Yes, Chef!” a little too loud.

“Can I get some hands for this focaccia,” you shout through the din, pushing the two boards forward, but nobody responds. “Hands, please, get these off my station before I eat ‘em!” you call, trying to bring some levity to the atmosphere before-

“Hands, fuckin’ hands, Chefs, FUCK!” Carmy explodes, appearing by your side so suddenly you almost jump. His hands hover over the foccacia boards like he wants to adjust something on them, fix something, but you know as well as he does that they’re perfect already.

And of course, this just makes things worse.

Carmy properly looks up for the first time, straightening out of the “chef about to have an aneurysm over plating this fish” posture and into his “everyone here is about to get fucked” pose. “These are good to go, why are we not? Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. Go fuck yourselves-” one of the new waitresses approaches with trembling hands and Carmy pushes the boards at her, disgusted, almost taking them over the edge of the pass, “-all of you, what is the point of any of us being here if nothing is leaving the fucking kitchen!”

“Carm, it’s okay, they’re going out,” you can’t help cutting in, but you should know better than to try to soothe a wild animal. Carmy doesn’t say anything, turns back to plating up his fish, but his beautiful artist’s hands, which you often find yourself trying to draw in the margins of inventory checks, are shaking now. You’ve never seen him this bad. The whole kitchen waits on a knife edge. You glance up, watching the waitress leave with your focaccia, and have a brief but fervent desire to be her as the doors swing her out of this hellhole.

The fish is beautiful as Carmy puts the finishing touches to it. A server steps up to take it as other dishes for the same table coalesce at the front of stations, all elegant, all perfect, all more than worthy of the restaurant’s Michelin star.

Carmy is completely still. Staring. And you know it’s too late.

Plunging his fist down, he crushes the fish into sea-scented pulp. The shells of oysters, hand-selected, crack into broken-mirror shards; the sauce is peppered with shoddy scraps of lobster tail.

It’s still not enough for Carmy, as he picks up the plate and sends it spinning into the back wall, narrowly missing Sweeps’ head. “ Shit, ” Carmy mutters, turning back to his station and searching for more things to destroy. You watch him contemplate the knives, and you can’t stay out of it any longer.

“Carmy. Chef. Carmy,” you say as you reach out to grab his muscled arm, pulling him round to face you. You can feel the tension corded deep under his skin, see the sheen of sweat coating his tattoos. Normally, any skin contact with him sends your brain into overdrive, but you can’t afford to be anything but calm right now.

His eyes are wild, but you watch him steadily, and he watches you straight back. You’re not sure why, but the moment reminds you of how you felt on those rare occasions he invited you and Syd over to brainstorm new recipes in his cramped kitchen. Especially that time Sydney couldn’t make it, and you were midway through describing your idea for a yuzu-infused scallops course to him - “with maybe, like, a garnish of broccoli just absolutely smothered in hollandaise” - when he reached forward, tucked a scrap of hair behind your ear, and the very idea of food whisked straight out of your head - but you still felt hungry. And whilst he’d tried out your broccoli idea over and over again that night, you found yourself blushing every time he passed you a spoon to taste it. 

You never could get that dish right. Every time you thought about it, you couldn’t separate the flavours from the curious look in his eyes, the way he drank in your ideas, absorbed them before he responded, how his eyes tracked every thought that crossed your face.

Now here you are again, staring at that measured, thoughtful man turned savage, and you wonder if you have the guts to do what you’ve been thinking about doing for a while.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you murmur beneath the clatter of plates behind you, just for him. You don’t look away even when you hear something shatter. You move your hand from his arm, up over his shoulder, push your palm into the curve of his neck and hold it there. 

Then you wait, feel his shoulders jumping up and down with his rapid breathing. Wait until he leans into it a little, chasing your solidity, and it’s all the response you need.

“Come with me.” It’s not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Sydney, you got this?” You ask, never taking your eyes from Carmy’s face, worried that if you do, you’ll lose whatever grip you have on him right now.

“Yes, Chef,” she replies, and you feel her edge round the side of Carmy to put another fish on rapid fire. He catches her eye as she passes, and brings his hand up to his chest, rubbing it once in what has become the team’s official way to apologise during service. She responds in kind, and he lets you drag him off the station, past the others shooting him worried looks, straight into the walk-in.

You shut the door carefully, recalling the stories of Carmy’s previous imprisonment. It’s still securely closed, giving you both some calm and privacy to cool off.

Except cooling off is not really what you have in mind.

You turn to see Carmy slumped in the corner, curled in on himself and running his hands through his already-chaotic hair. He stands again suddenly, bracing his hands on the wall behind him as if to remind himself they exist.

“Carmy.”

“Yeah, shit. Sorry, I just need a second. It’s just, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was thinking about doing something with ceviche, but I couldn’t figure out what fish would work best, and then that sorta spiralled into a panic attack which kept me up whisking eggs for something until three, and then-” You watch his eyes darting over the shelves around him as he talks, and you realise he’s taking stock of what’s there. Even during a full-blown meltdown, he cannot stop working, stop thinking. He starts pacing.

“Carmy,” you say again as you try to catch his eye. He’s staring at some spare T-bones like they’ll explain to him whatever dish he was whisking eggs for last night. Fuck it. You grab his chin, tilt it until he has to look at you.

“D’you know the best way to calm down?”

“Lock yourself in the walk-in for three hours?” He’s trying to relieve some tension, but you have other ideas on how to handle that.

“Sex, Carmy.”

There. You’re terrified that you finally acknowledged it, finally confessed to what you’ve been thinking about for months, but thank God it’s out in the open. You’ve been blushing at his compliments on your food for far too long, ignoring how good he looks in a white tee for even longer. And today has been such a shitshow it can’t possibly get any worse by admitting to this too.

You wait for Carmy to shut it down, laugh it off, maybe even fire you, but he just looks shellshocked. Then again, that is his default look.

“I, um…” He rubs a hand over his forehead, glances up at you almost shyly. “I mean, um. What?”

“Listen, you’re fucking up service. You’re distracted, tired, stressed beyond belief. I want to help you, and I won’t pretend it’s just out of the goodness of my own heart. I’ve been interested in you for a while, Carmy. You can take that or leave it or kick me out of this walk-in if you want, but I’m here. I want to help you work through things, through all this anger. And…I want you to know you can take it out on me. And maybe even feel better at the same time.”

Carmy is flushed, and you’re all out of words. You kind of wish he was still looking at the T-bones.

“We, uh, we can’t.” Carmy leans back on a freezer for support, crossing his arms in a pose you normally associate with him working something out in his head, deciding what a dish is missing or what it needs to take it up a notch. “I mean, not now. Not here, at least. And I don’t know, we work together. I’m your boss. It’s not a good idea.” He reaches a hand round to his back, starts massaging the strain away there. It’s an especially effective position as he doesn’t have to look at you as he does it, as he says, “Sorry.”

You shrug a little, smile. Try to pretend it doesn’t hurt. Keep it professional, or as professional as you can get in a kitchen. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Get some sleep, Chef.”

You turn to go, hoping that stirring and slicing and plating up will shake off the embarrassment currently burning through to your bones.

But you don’t live to regret the offer as Carmy grabs your arm, spins you and shoves you hard enough into the walk-in door that it rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, everything okay in there Chefs?” you hear Marcus call, and it’s a reality check you absolutely don’t want right now. Carmy doesn’t even seem to have heard him, trailing kisses down your neck, collarbone, shoulder as your body arches into the feeling. You’ve had one too many fantasies about this walk-in since you started, but the actual feeling doesn’t begin to touch the dream.

“Yeah, all good Chef!” You manage to reply, but you barely get the ‘Chef’ out before Carmy’s lips slide over yours, pushing, demanding entry as his body keeps you pressed up against the door. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place, is all you have time to think between kisses.

There is no room or time for playing around. Carmy needs this, and you intend to provide, but you’re damn sure getting everything you can out of it just in case it never happens again. One of your hands curls deep into his hair, pulling his head back as your teeth click together in the ferocity of the kiss. You swear you can taste blood, but neither one of you pulls back, the saltiness only urging you on. Your other hand is busy loosening his belt, and you tug it hard to pull the silver prong free of the leather, hard enough that his hips jerk forward into yours and you moan, long and low.

Gravity suddenly spins on its axis as Carmy lifts you, turns and drops you down onto the freezer Fak installed last week. And for once in your life, thank you, Fak. The movement seems to shake Carmy out of it for a second, and he pulls back, hesitates. A hand curves around your cheek, and you can feel an apology coming, see the reticence forming in his eyes. And honestly, fuck that.

You hook fingers through his belt loops, dragging him closer and then using them to tug his trousers down. You’re not gentle as you reach into his underwear, wrap a hand around his cock, and you can tell that’s what he needs as he hisses, his head drifting back.

Removing his hand from your cheek, you guide it slowly down to your neck. His head snaps up, and there’s a darkness, a need, that wasn’t there before as you move your hand slowly, torturously, down his length.

“Hey,” you whisper, reluctant to interrupt the low grunts spilling from him with each of your movements. “I’m not going to break.”

You squeeze his fingers around your throat a little tighter, and it’s this that has him surging forward, messy mouths pressing together again and everything condensing into a rippling, burning, rightness as the fingers of his other hand shove themselves between your legs.

He lingers there for a moment, breaths short and sharp in your ear as he breaks free from your kiss and whispers, “If we had more time, I would clean up the mess you’re making all over my freezer, Chef.”

“My apologies, Chef,” you pant, the sweetness of the apology marred slightly by your fingers tugging hard through his curls. Then you’re pushing up his white shirt at the back, reveling in the heat of him, the muscles straining under your touch. “What’s my punishment?”

Carmy hesitates, then withdraws his fingers from you slowly, and it feels like the calm before the storm. One hand is still pressed loosely around your neck as he brings the other up to your face, runs the edge of his still-wet fingers over your lips. Asking or demanding, you don’t know, but you’re happy to comply. His pupils are blown so wide you can barely see the blue behind them, and when you slide your mouth over his fingers, taste yourself on him, he closes them in momentary bliss. And it’s so beautiful to see that you can’t resist pulling him in to share.

A Michelin-star chef with one of the most sophisticated palates on the planet. A renowned food critic once wrote of him, “In my next life, I’d like to be just one of the taste buds in Carmen Berzatto’s mouth.” And here he is, savouring you, tongue searching out every corner of your mouth as if he wants to figure out each and every component of your taste. Add the recipe of you to his menu, and make it every night.

You’re both done waiting, and the clock is ticking. You can faintly hear Sydney calling orders through the wall, although she sounds steadier now. You don’t know whether anyone out there knows what you’re doing, but a rampaging elephant couldn’t stop Sydney when she’s on a roll.

Carmy pulls you closer to the freezer’s edge, jeans and underwear falling to his ankles and suddenly he is right there, and-

“Oh, fuck,” is all you can say as he pushes forward in one swift, animal movement. And oh, pain flickers down your spine as he slides almost free of you and thrusts back, relentless, and this is exactly what you signed up for.

“ Fuck ,” he echoes, hand sliding down your neck to settle over your racing heart. “Fuck, you…I don’t know how you do this to me,” he pants, and you try to keep your moaning down so you can hear as words spill from him, “When you come in with your hair down before a shift, when you - ah - when you borrow my knife and I see you using it all service, when you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. Shit. You drive me crazy on purpose, and you wanna know what the worst part is?”

You can’t breathe, let alone answer him.

“The worst part is I eat that shit up every time, ” he snarls, punctuating every word with a short, sharp thrust.

This is the animal you saw tonight, spitting curses, destroying his own food, all sharp edges and uncompromising will. Grunting as he bottoms out inside you, fingers clenched around your upper thigh hard enough to bruise, littering bites over your neck as if your colleagues aren’t an unlocked door away.

But the animal isn’t the end of Carmen Berzatto. There is more to him than the bear, and you intend to remind him of that before you’re through.

“Look around you,” you pant as he thrusts again, harder, sweeter, and you have to get this out before you tip over the edge. So you risk bringing the hand you were using to support yourself forward to turn his chin towards the walk-in’s walls, to beyond them, to the restaurant hard at work and the satisfied diners metres away who have no idea what’s going on in here, and fuck if that doesn’t make it all the more delicious. “Look what you made. Look who you are.” You watch his flushed face, hope he understands the praise, but you can’t hold on anymore to see your words land.

“You’re fuckin’ unbelievable, Carmy,” is all you manage to choke out as every muscle in your body lights up, tenses and releases in a flood so strong you wonder if you’ll ever surface, and if you even want to.

Carmy fucks forward into you twice more, and his head drops onto your shoulder as he groans, shudders, relaxes fully for what may be the first time in his life.

You stroke a hand over his head, pull him closer. You’re not quite sure when this stopped being a no-holds-barred quickie and became a quiet, intense embrace, but it feels right. All the desperation, the keyed-up energy, is gone from him. And if he never wants anything more than that, even though the idea is more than a little disappointing, you can take consolation from the fact that you at least managed to stop a raging Carmy in his tracks.

Although it is a little quiet.

“Carmy?” You ask, hesitant to break the silence. Thankfully, it still sounds like it’s all bustle outside. You wonder how long you’ve been in here, and try not to think about how you’re going to emerge with any shred of dignity intact.

Carmy pulls back, and you can’t define the look on his face, but it worries you. His eyes shine slightly, and his gaze skips across your face, down your body, not holding your stare.

“Are you okay?” You ask, praying this isn’t about to get really awkward really quick. The man’s still inside you, for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah. I, um, I should be asking you that.” Carmy’s hands skim down your sides, fingers pressing in randomly as if to check for bruises. He tilts his head to look under your chin, as if to check he hasn’t caused any permanent damage to your neck. “Jesus. Are you alright? I’m sorry, that was rough.”

“I’m totally fine.” You don’t know what to do to reassure him, so opt for two big thumbs up. “See? Voice working and everything.”

Carmy chuckles unevenly, takes a careful step back, and you try not to consider how empty you feel and how cold and slippery the freezer now is underneath you. You hop off, catching yourself on the side when you realise just how shaky your legs are. When you glance up at Carmy, he’s just staring at you, which is, frankly, unnerving.

“Do I look that bad?” you ask, pulling your hair out of what’s left of a ponytail to start again.

“No. No, I’m just…I’m just taking you in.” The raw honesty in his eyes pins you in place for a moment. But of course, Richie shouts “ Cousin!” before you can read into it too much.

There is a moment of panicked dressing and clean-up, a nod to each other to confirm you both look relatively sane and not totally fucked (even though you doubt it), and then a collective deep breath as you push open the door of the walk-in.

You don’t catch anyone’s eye for a second as you head to your station, Carmy’s presence like an open flame behind you.

“Corner. Corner. Behind, sorry Chefs,” you call as you slide back into place. Two quick glances calm you; one at the clock - seventeen minutes - and one at Sydney, who doesn’t look like she’s about to throw up and only has three tickets in front of her. You spare a final one for Fak in his position by the door, who you are positive would be grinning gleefully if he, or anyone else in the kitchen, knew what just went down in the walk-in.

“What do you need, Syd?” you ask, picking up the familiar back-and-forth of the kitchen again with some relief.

Carmy is quiet, focused, for the last half hour of service, but you can’t keep your mind clear. As soon as last orders are sent out, you slink to the back for a cigarette, hoping the smoke will at least wipe out your brain fog. It does the exact opposite. When you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. You exhale, waving the smoke away as the words churn through your brain. I eat that shit up every time.

“Hey,” you hear, and you’re almost thankful to speak to the real him just to distract yourself from thinking about earlier.

“Hey.” You offer him a smoke, and he takes it, sinking onto the step next to you. The brush of his leg against yours is a lot more comforting than you expect it to be, relaxing a secretly worried part of you.

He takes a long drag, the kind of drag you only take when it’s been a shitshow of a day. “I just want to say I’m-”

“Sorry? It’s okay. It doesn’t have to happen again,” you finish for him. It hurts less that way.

“What? No.” He looks at you until you reluctantly meet his gaze. “Not for that. I’m not sorry about that.” He lets that hang there for a second, holds your eye. “But I’m sorry for losing my shit earlier. Nobody deserves to be around that, and…I want you to know I’m working on it. I wanna be…I wanna be good at this.” It’s a stilted apology as he thinks through every line, and it feels all the more sincere for it.

“That’s okay. I know. We all know.” You reach a hand out to touch his arm, and after a second, he lowers his head to rest on his knee, although his face is still turned towards you. You see his eyes flicker from your hand on his arm to your face.

“Although that wasn’t exactly how I expected that to go by the way,” he says after a moment.

You don’t try to pretend you don’t know what he’s referring to. “What, in the walk-in?”

“Oh, no, I’ve thought about it in the walk-in.” You ignore a pulse of feeling at his casual confession, at the idea that he’s thought about you. “I just didn’t imagine it so…heated, I guess.” Carmy raises his head again, traces a finger along your hand where it rests on his arm until you shiver. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

You hesitate for a second before replying. Before extending the branch. “Well, I’m sure there’ll be other times, Chef.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and it’s your turn to watch his thoughts flickering there, watch as the fog clears, the idea forms, and he says, “Yeah. Next time.”

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

wow guys thank you for reading i pray through the act of writing this that my jeremy allen white obsession will calm the fuck down, but i fear i've made it worse

if you'd like to keep up with me on ao3, you can find me here and please do send me any comments or feedback or prompt ideas, i would love to hear them <33 thank you!!

[ervotica]

cato comforting u while your crying and then cradling you his big ass arms (i am a SLUT for men with big biceps)

warnings; r is sad, cato is peak boyfriend, ARMS (they're a warning)

a/n; on my mf KNEES for this man, vikings is on my watch list next bc he's just too fine jfc. sorry this got buried in my inbox lovely! i hope you enjoy though <3 (also this gif??? im fucking sweating)

"Who've I gotta kill?"

You stifle a gasp with the back of your hand, glossy eyes snapping up to meet the furious stare of your boyfriend. The colour bleeds from his knuckles, flexing at his sides as he watches the way you hiccup and coil in on yourself to try and conceal the steady flow of tears making their way down your cheeks. Grass tickles at your bare legs where you shuffle on your bum to face him.

"'s nothing, Cato. I'm okay." You nod vehemently, as if trying to convince yourself; he crouches, sitting back on his heels to cradle the side of your neck with thick digits. Your pulse thrums under his touch.

"Baby," he murmurs; it's soft the way he speaks to you, a jarring juxtaposition to the sharp bite of his usual tone. "What's goin' on?"

"I don't wanna talk 'bout it right now," you sniff, and Cato catches the tears that spring to the surface again, tickling at the swollen rims of your eyes. Your head ducks and the palm of his hand applies a firm pressure to the crown of your skull as he manoeuvres, and thick thighs come to rest either side of your own, chest crowding against your back.

You tip back to lean against the warm expanse of his chest and his arms come up to cage you in; heavily muscled biceps brace around your protruding collarbones when he smears a kiss across the ridge of your temple.

Tucking your head in the crook of his elbow, your own arms come up to twine around his upper arm, head rolling until you're gazing up at him through sticky, wet lashes. The crease in his brow dissipates, and dimples crater at the centre of his cheeks under your affectionate observance.

"Whatcha lookin' at, short stuff?" he teases, thumb squishing the pudgy flesh of your bottom lip.

"Just you," you purr, voice waning through the thick lump in your throat. Cato traces the column, pressing into the dimple beneath your chin to rub a tight circle there. "Just love you. I don't deserve you."

"Who told you that? 's that what the tears are about, huh?" Lips drag downward over your jaw while he waits for an answer, wet half moons glistening in the wake of his fervent touch.

"Just what people say about me. When I was out earlier..." You falter, concealing your face in the groove of his armpit. "Some of the other girls were laughing. At me." You hiccup into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, neck bending awkwardly when he tucks you in tighter, arms a vice around your top half. "They say you're too good for me. That they don't know why you're wastin' your time."

"You think it's true?" he asks.

"I-I don't know. I think you could do better than me."

His chin digs into the juncture of your neck when you lift your head, heavy eyelashes kissing at the corners and trailing dampness across Cato's cheek.

"I love you. Don't want anyone else, my girl."

You surge forward, twisting the top half of your body to wrap around him like a vine; he stays steadfast, rigid as you clamber up and into his lap on tired limbs. Your fingers settle at the nape of his neck, tangled in short, blond hair.

His hands squeeze at the fat of your hips, drawing you closer still, lips pressed to the shell of your ear.

"You're mine, okay? My girl forever."

[cookie-crumblr]

Red Lily Down

GN! Reader x Bunny Hybrid Harem

Part 1~

Introductions

Their Info: 💐🐰✨

Part: 1 2

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, GN! Reader, No pronouns used for reader, no genitalia descriptions mentioned for reader, bunny hybrid reader/mostly all of the harem is an animal hybrid of some kind, NSFW: sexual themes all throughout, every named character wants you, non con touching, smut, no sex yet! nipple touching

Disclaimer: This harem’s theme is based off of a mix of Roots of Pacha and Watership Down. Not intended to represent any real or specific person/time/place/ or culture!

“Wakey, wakey sleepyhead!” You fling open the thick curtains to Azure’s room.

He was already awake, but he’s got a fierce mix of laziness, and craving you as a daily wake up call. So he was well prepared to stay cooped up for a while. “You’re the sleepyhead, been waitin’ all mornin’ for you,” He pats the cushy bedding beside him, inviting you to join.

You gleefully hop over. As you begin your decent, his arms fully envelope you, and pull you into his body. You snuggle against him as he inhales the top of your head deeply. “You shouldn’t crawl into everyone’s beds, Y/n… Especially a guy’s, like mine…” He pauses, before he scowls, “Or Lore’s. Stay away from her’s too.”

Your heart thumps at the connotations to his words, and the proximity to his hot body that you’re far more aware of now. The way his body contours to you perfectly…

“But… You’re my friends!” You try and keep the fact that your burning up now hidden. Try as you might, it doesn’t stop the fact that you both can hear the sound of each others blood pumping faster, and harder.

“Don’t pretend your heart didn’t just jump,” he nuzzles into your head further, “and your so warm…” His hand finds your chest through your top and squeezes softly.

You jump out of his bed at once, “I’m gonna be late for my checkup with Llyr!” An excuse, sure. But true nonetheless.

“Tell ‘em i’ll kill him if he touches you.” He growls as he rolls over in a huff.

“He has to touch me!” Your face warms, “He’s the healer, Azure.” You roll your eyes at his back.

Azure grumbles and sinks further into the pillows and hay, “I’ll still kill ‘em…”

On your walk through the warren you feel uneasy… Something is definitely watching you.

“Oooooh Llyr! I’m here~!” You enter the vine covered healer’s hut with a mighty flourish, ready to get your business out of the way.

“Perfect! Welcome, Y/N! please, have a seat here,” His back is turned as he speaks. You can hear the sound of him using a mortar and pestle to grind something into a mushy, grainy substance. The sound persists through several long moments, a growing nervousness is able to sink in…

It’s just a check up! You breathe in.

“There… Now, Y/N, i need you to eat this.” He addresses you.

“What is it?” you inspect the bowl, it’s just a mushy, herby ball.

“You don’t want it?” His smile remains even.

“I guess I do…” Unaware of his special ingredient, you gulp it down… You trust the warren healer.

It tastes like roots and spice.

You don’t feel any different.

“Good. Now, take off your shirt”

“Oh… Okay….” Whether you’re used to having it off or not, you still feel embarrassed to do it for him. You cover yourself with your arms until he pulls them away.

“There, good job,” he coos gently. Your cheeks feel warmer.

He leans his head against your now bare chest, fuzzy blonde ear resting all the way up over your shoulder. “I need to hear your heartbeat clearly,” He reaches up your torso.

“O-kayyy—EEP!” As you’re speaking he tweaks your nipple.

“Good~” he coos, “Good response,”

He’s rolling your nipple now.

“Mm… I-Is th-this—necessary?” You question.

“Heyyy, Y/n~!” The warren’s playboy, and your ex, enters through the beaded curtain with a certain undeniable swagger.

The healer puts his arms up in surrender, “Mateo,” though his eyes crinkle into a smile, he’s anything but innocent.

“Been sent by chief to come get them” A sly smirk spreads across Mateo’s face as he helps you back into your clothes.

He rakes his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps behind. His hand trails the edge of your ear, and he leans over top of you to blow a little puff of air into it. Your insides heat up, and you cover your face shylly.

“I-uh… Gotta forage with Aster soon anyway! sorry Llyr” You follow him out.

After you’ve both gotten outside and away from curious glances, he pins you to the closest earthen hut. His hand finds your ear to play with yet again, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you…”

“How many people have you said that to?” You roll your eyes.

“C’mon, don’t be like that. I should have never cheated on you…”

“We were together for like one summer when we were like seventeen cycles old.” While you speak you brush away his roaming hands.

He grabs you by the hips, and pushes you harder against the wall. His passion and frustration mixing for you specially. “I never stop thinking of you. Truly. It’s not even sexual all the time!” You feel his breath against your lips, and turn away.

“Wow that’s such an accomplishment for you. I’m soo honored.” You say, sarcasm dripping off your tongue like venom. “I’ll go find the chief myself.”

When you walk away, he’s left there somehow looking more hot than when he came to get you. Disheveled, hot and bothered… Craving you.

On your way, you continue to feel watched…

You open the woven bramble door to Chief Winter’s carved stone hut.

“Ah there you are, little one, have you come to a decision?” Winter is sitting, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back. His one green orb takes in all of you. Your own eyes wander across every deeply carved muscle on his body, stopping in wonder at every beautifully thick and jagged scar.

You notice him smile, pleased that youre enjoying his glorious visage. He uncrosses his legs and his loincloth is tented by something absolutely massive. Your mouth is suddenly very dry. “Yes sir… I mean no sir! I mean—! I don’t know yet… Sir!” You blather.

He asked you a moon cycle ago if you wanted to be his mate.

He laughs heartily, “Do not fret, little one, I find you most endearing.” His smile is warm and inviting, a stark contrast to such a hardened looking man. “But, I’m sure you have duties to attend to. You are dismissed. Do visit whenever though,”

“Y/n! Hey!” Lore pops out from nowhere and makes you jump.

“Lore! Gods, you scared me!” Hand over heart, you try to speak without gasping.

“Hehe! Sorry!” She shifts her attention to the chief, “See ya Winter!”

He smiles and gives you a nod as you’re dragged out by the bard.

Something is still watching you. You can sense it every time you’re no longer sheltered by the indoors.

She clings to your arm as you both walk through the crabgrass and clovers between huts. “When’s our next slumber party?” She puts her bottom lip out and gives you her best puppy dog eyes. She’s adorable.

“I donno, Azure said I shouldn’t be getting into everyone’s beds anymore…”

Her grip tightens painfully, “and… Where were you when he said that?”

“in…”

“His bed. Hm.” Lore pulls a jagged flint knife out of her belt. “Be right back, Y/n~”

you grab her arm, “Wait! could you please stop threatening eachother?”

“But!!! UHG! he needs to die.” She folds her arms, and tilts her head up defiantly, her back is turned to you.

You lean over her shoulder to get direct access to her ear. “No he does not, Lore. I’d never forgive you,”

“F-fine.” Steeling herself with a deep breath, she re-sheathes the knife. “You owe me though…”

“What do you want?” You ask.

“A sleepover! Duh!” She touches your chest, “And…” Her lips crash softly against yours, the scent of sweet herbs carries on her. “That.” She pulls back to look into your eyes before she saunters away happily.

You notice the position of the sun and almost shriek! Aster is so gonna rub it in your face if he forages more than you.

You hurry home to grab your favorite basket and head to the forest to join Aster. On your way, you feel that you’re being hunted.

“Hey Y/n~ Wanna make it a game day?” Aster’s basket is already a quarter full of little fruits and mushrooms, so he’s going to win, but…

“Sure, why not” You giggle.

“Usual rules, loser has to do whatever the winner says…” You don’t quite notice the devilish sparkle to his smile, so you naturally agree. Gotta have fun while you do your duties!

Your basket fills fast enough, you still lose, though it’s not like you didn’t see it coming.

Once you’ve both turned in your efforts of the day, Aster finds you at the banquet. You were putting your bowl away after cleaning it, when his arms snake around you.

“Loser…” He taunts.

“Hah! Aster, no need to be a sore winn—” His hand travels down to your bottoms. “er…”

“Shh. Do whatever I say, remember?” Fingertips find your skin now, brushing barely over it. “stand still.”

Shaking legs and all, you obey to your best ability.

He finds a sweet spot, eliciting a small gasp, and he stays there. Your brows knit, and you close your eyes. he pushes down harder, but still gently.

“Next time, I’m gonna take you.” His breath tickles your neck as he whispers.

You shiver, eyes wide.

[13thdoodle]

[ ECTOBERHAUNT 2023 BANNER ]

I'm doing the banner for this year's @ectoberhaunt event~ The theme is Science vs Magic

I had so much fun making this~ Sam get the fantasy AU fit while Tucker gets Cyber/futuristic style

Sketch Progress

I like the idea of Sam being a druid bc nature connection tm

And Tucker would vibe very well with fancy future stuffs. i was gonna draw him with a bigger puffer but I couldn't figured it out. I like the one we got here too so yay

Okay so I was a bit pressed on time while working on this so I couldn't do as much research and references as I should.

On Sam's part, the somewhat floating book was inspired on how genshin impact's catalysts have their books/weapon just floats and it looks fancy n magical n Sam deserve that honestly

Her glowing tattoo are highkey inspired of this beautiful Sam with tattoos art by @the-stove-is-on-fire Mine is nowhere close to that but that's my main inspiration for this

I was gonna give Tucker his usual orange sweater but I noticed a lot of neon or cyberpunk outfit relies on dark backdrop to pop.

And since the background color is gonna be bright yellow, I gotta put the dark color somewhere else. And his sweater would be the perfect spot to balance out all the brightness with a bit of darkness

And it matches with Sam too so it works out great uwu

The magic circles on their back were mostly there to balance out the composition bc it looks too empty as is, gotta spice it up a lil bit uwu But a direct halo would look.. too out there? I mean I can but like.. Sam is magic/fantasy based, why not lean on that n go for magic circles :D

Tucker's random bits on the background took the most out of me bc like.. its hard qwq I literally try to look up aesthetic bg to figure out how to work with his?? Eventually I just settle on less is more and added shadow under the bits to make em pops out against the orange

source

And for the color choices, I wanted the two of them to have purple, yellow, and green on them. The green color on to symbolize Danny bc I'm an Everlasting Trio shipper lmao

I wanted Sam to have some yellow and green on her magic, which kinda.. got covered with the whites honestly. But the greens stays with the vines so we'll go with that Tucker was harder to figure out, so I settle with him with blue and greens instead of purple qwq

In the end, only the green end up staying lmao It ends up unifying both sides so hell yea it all works out lol

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Trigger warning: period-typical homophobia and associated slurs

Part 1 | . . . | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39

Allison smiles at Eddie as they listen to Steve bicker with Dustin. Eddie glances at her, sees her smiling, and looks… disgusted. “God,” he says with a sneer, “you thought we were serious? That we’re some fags? You thought you could have your picture-perfect little dream life, didn’t you?”

Allison feels fear tingle down her spine. She gets off the counter and makes her way around the island, angling it between her and Eddie, letting her get close to the sliding doors that lead to the backyard.

Just then Steve comes back in, and Allison pleads with her eyes. “Steve? Bubba?”

“Sorry, Allison,” he says, though he doesn’t sound sorry. “You thought we’d accept you being a dyke?”

He and Eddie begin to laugh, and as tears prick at her eyelids, she feels behind herself for the door, throws it open, and steps outside.

Except she’s not outside. She can feel herself calming down slightly as she recognizes the hallway: it’s the one on the way to Cassidy’s room. “Cass?” She calls timidly, wiping her eyes. “Cassie?” She opens the oh-so-familiar door and freezes in the entryway. It’s not Cassidy’s room; it’s a room she’s never seen before. It looks like a meeting room. Her father is at one end of a long table, her mother just to his right. Steve’s to his left, with Eddie to his left, and Cassidy is on her mother’s right. The rest of the table is filled with friends and acquaintances from school, all staring at her, judging her.

She takes a step back. “Daddy?” She asks, like she’s five years old again.

Richard Harrington sighs. “Honestly, Allison, I thought we raised you better than this. Your mother and I didn’t raise you to throw your life away like a prostitute.”

“Dad, I love her,” she pleads.

Cassidy scoffs. “Do you? When you forgot my birthday? When you got me earrings for our anniversary? When you keep dragging your feet about everything?”

Allison gapes. “I- I didn’t- we celebrated later,” she tries weakly. “You said you loved the earrings. And I’m- I’m not trying to drag my feet-”

“Allison,” Cynthia Harrington says, spreading her hands. “We just want what’s best for you, darling. Come with us.”

The rest of the table starts murmuring, with us, come, come with us, and Allison’s heart kickstarts in her chest before she runs out of the room.

She ends up on a cursed-looking landscape, with dead earth and red sky, sticky vines and prehistoric-looking beasts.

She sees a clump of dead trees and sprints towards them, hiding in between them as best she can.

“Allison?” She hears, and her heart thumps in her chest, but how can she be sure?

“Alli? Baby?”

She turns around to see Cassidy trapped under a fallen tree, and she gasps. “How’d you get here?”

“Please,” Cassidy groans, tears tracing down her cheeks. “Please help me, baby, it’s on my ankle, I think it’s broken-”

“Cassie,” Alli sobs, falling to her knees next to her. “I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you.” She does her best to lift one end of the log off of Cassidy, enough so Cassidy can wiggle out. When she’s out, Allison drops the log and wraps Cassidy in a hug. “Baby,” she whispers. “Baby, I’m so scared.”

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Cassidy says, but it’s not Cassidy, and Allison steps back and looks up with a gasp.

“W-what- who- who are you?”

His face contorts into a sickly grin. “I have many names,” he says, raising his arms as if to embrace her again. She eyes him distrustfully. “None of them will make any difference to you, though, since you’ll be dead before you can use them.”

She pivots on her heel and runs, ignores everything she can that isn’t her feet pounding on the dead earth. She suddenly hears a bit of music, which is so unlike anything she’d experienced in this place that she instinctively turns to it. It sounds almost like Steve.

“Darling, you got to let me know,” the voice sings, “should I stay or should I go? If you say that you are mine, I’ll be here till the end of time. So you got to let me know, should I stay or should I go?” Then the voice starts speaking. “C’mon, Al,” it murmurs. “You gotta fight, please. I just got you back, c’mon, I can’t lose you again. Not this soon. I won’t let him have you, Al, but you’ve gotta fight too.”

He starts the next line, and she suddenly sees something like a portal in front of her. As she gets closer, she can see herself, floating off the ground, eyes rolled back in her head. Steve’s standing on the counter, trying to reach her ear to speak. “Bubba,” she murmurs, running as fast as she can. Something tells her to look behind her, but she knows it’ll cost her speed, so she doesn’t, just runs to the portal and jumps through, back into her body.

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[talesfrommedinastation]

My Redneck Neighbor Doug has watched The Bad Batch Season 3 opener:

LEEEEET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!

This is more pithy than normal: Doug's been busy with work, as have I. But I'm determined to hear his thoughts on The Daddy Warcrimes 'n Company so here we go!

These were all via text messages, btw.

CW: Doug Doug's as you know Doug will do. Away!

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

Episode 1: 'Little Orphan Blondie's Shit Internship at The Museum of Science and Industry'

Poor Little Orphan Blondie, stuck in The Museum of Science and Industry in a shit summer job because they got bills to pay. Except they got rid of the dinosaurs and walk in heart and filled it with gross shit.

Hey look, they still got the coal mine exhibit! Man I miss Chicago.

(Doug, that museum has never had dinosaurs. “What, since when?”)

MUTANT JIMMERS EVERYWHERE! Aw, Little Orphan Blondie gave one her chicken nuggets! And it’s shy, aw, I hope it’s okay.

Poor Mutant Jimmers…she named her?! Swear to Christ Almighty if that dog gets Old Yeller’d I’ll just lose it. 

That freaky alien thing that ran the mall on the ocean looks sad, I bet she wishes she fell into the water and got eaten by a shark or something. I wish you did too, lady. 

The Sons of Robocop really are everywhere, they must be a cult or something. They look cool, I’d join, why not. Think they get 401ks?

Oh man, Daddy Warcrimes is down bad. Poor Daddy Warcrimes. Man, all my clone boys are stooped and sad…this ain’t good. 

At least Little Orphan Blondie can craft! Man, she should start selling those at the Museum of Science and Industry’s gift shop. Maybe Tarkin can bring one back for the grandchildren he’s not allowed to talk to since the restraining order was put in.

Oh, there’s Stepsister Beth, she seems on edge. Must’ve gotten divorced recently, don’t blame her ex, I bet she screamed at him for leaving cabinets open who knows. How do her eyeballs not hurt after wearing those dumb glasses all day?

Episode 2: 'Night Elves and Neverland Ranch'

The night elves from Warcraft invaded Star Wars and got horns or something and now they have a castle that looks like a boss level in Diablo IV or V or how many Diablo games they got now.

Now they yelling at people and throwing them in the basement today. Makes sense, gotta fight the orcs and stuff. Think they fight the orcs in the basement?

The Night Elf Horned Queen hired Daddy Rambo and Julio to get people, I guess they’re turning into Boba Fett or something. They got her son's horn back, guess that's good. Oh they need new paint jobs on their armor.

Do they end up in the basement in the Diablo Boss Level? No? And off they go! 

Daddy Rambo and Julio are in their homeland of FLORIDA! Hell yeah, SPACE FLORIDA! And they’re bringing the talking trashcan with them using straps! Go Julio go!  Yeah, boa vines, this is TOTALLY the Everglades! 

Escaped clone boys! Oh man! Shit, is Neverland Ranch in the jungle? Oh man–oh, they know what they’re doing. Good kids. Real good kids. Oh what happened to the rest of them? Oh Meat Muffin, this ain't good :(.

You know what? Them clone boys are smart, take it back, this ain’t Space Florida, this is Space Louisiana! Them baby boys gone get feral and run off into the bayou and live in the caves and now you know my origin story, Meat Muffin! 

If this was Florida they'd just end up working the late shift at Zaxby's and smoking rocks in the parking lot. We know better, we French and all.

I bet they’ve been living on nutria and half-empty chicken boxes from behind the gas stations. Resourceful scrappy kids and I can tell its making Daddy Rambo proud.

Oh holy SHIT, there go them vines! It's like the kudzu all over again, maybe this is LaFourche Parish?

See, them boys are definitely white trash, Mandalorian rednecks. Look at em, living in the woods and hijacking a plane, but they good kids, saving their brothers. Even saved the robot too. 

Man, all the feels, them poor little boys. What will they do now?  Oh, they're going to Space Daytona! Good, wait, I saw the trailer, doesn't the Empire invade it? THIS AIN'T GOOD MEAT MUFFIN!!!

Wait...where's Toaster Strudel and Rex?

Episode 3: 'Blondie Got a Gun'

Well here's the Emperor. He wants to be immortal. Gotta make that other movie make sense or something.

Where's Darth Vader? Is he running the government when the Emperor is running around giggling?

Don’t you DARE kill Mutant Jimmers, you damn droid. I hate that ugly assed stupid thing. It looks like its scarecrow daddy fucked a microwave and then left it enough money to go to Planned Parenthood but instead spent it on crack and there ya go.  

Oh shut your goddamned yap, Jimmy the Scientist. I bet he gloves that hand up because he keeps shoving it up his own ass and that's why he walks funny all the damn time.

The Emperor also has a Diablo IV or VIII boss level all to himself too at the Museum of Science and Industry. How many Diablo games are there, Meat Muffin?

YEAH, LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE! GIT ER DONE!!! They're out! Oh wow! There she goes with Daddy Warcrimes! Kill em all and let GOD SORT THEM OUT! That's my GIRL!!!!

Blondie’s got a gun 

Blondie’s got a gun

Her whole world's come undone

Shooting droids is FUN!

GO MUTANT JIMMERS GO!!!! 

YEAH BLONDIE DADDY WARCRIMES AND MUTANT JIMMERS!!!!!!

I AIN'T A BULLS FAN BUT REPEAT THE THREE PEAT! YEAH!!!!!!

....so when we gonna get Toaster Strudel and Rex? Next one? Where's my reg boys?!

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

Tagging those who missed my Cajun neighbor. LOOKS LIKE REDNECK DOUG IS BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS!

@skellymom @amalthiaph @eyecandyeoz @cdblake1565 @sued134 @merkitty49 @supremechancellorrex @yeehawgeek @wrenkenstein @techs-stitches @deezlees @autistic-artistech @perfectlywingedcrusade @auntie-venom @megmca @thecoffeelorian

[tonowarii]

Honey Blue

Pairing: Tsireya x Fem! Human! Reader

Summary: Once you landed in Awa'atlu with your siblings, Tsireya was immediately fascinated by you, not just because you were human and she's never seen anybody quite like you before, but it's because of the one feature that stood out from the rest of you. Your eyes.

Reader has heterochromia and could breathe Pandora's air, no longer needing an exopack.

Word count: 4.1k

Warning/s: ATWOW spoilers, violence, swearing, bullying

Note: I'm in love w Tsireya nobody touch me. Likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are appreciated! Let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged in part two!

Tag-list: @laurensmabel1

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

The Sully family had taken you in and you were forever grateful for it.

Ever since you were a baby— with Max and Norm not having enough time since they’ve been dealing with keeping things in check, you busied yourself going to the Sully family along with Spider. You grew up alongside Kiri, Lo’ak, Spider, and Neteyam acting like your older brother.

Neytiri, funny enough, had also taken a liking to you, except for Spider. Soon after Jake noticed, and with how he often hears Norm and Max scolding you for messing with the accessories and wirings in the shack if he doesn’t allow you to go outside; a bulb lit up atop his head and he took you in.

Of course, he consulted with Neytiri first, well, it didn’t take a lot of convincing as Jake was talking to her, she could see you getting along with her own children very well.

Although Jake also bought up the equation of them also taking Spider in, but she refused with a hiss, saying how he was laced with the blood of the man she had loathed all her life, even if she had killed him already.

She watched as all of you, including Spider played with each other. Neteyam was chasing Kiri and Spider around, when she spotted how you were comforting Lo’ak, showing him that there was nothing wrong with having four fingers as a Na’vi.

Neytiri agreed to take you in.

Years had passed and all of you grew, your body changed, you grew taller, and then there was the very noticeable feature about you.

“Your eyes are so cool, (Y/N)!” Tuk praises while she plays with your hair. You tilt your head. “Do you think so? Tuk tuk?” You giggle at the nickname you give her. “Yeah! They’re like the— the, what do you call it again?” Tuk knitted her brows in thought.

“Tuk, come here, stop bothering your sister.” Neytiri calls out to her, you smile and stood up, taking Tuk to Neytiri.

“Hello, Sa’nok (mother).” You greet, leaning your head against her cheek to which Neytiri smiles and closes her eyes, nudging her cheek towards you.

“What are you doing, mom?” Tuk asked, moving to sit on Neytiri’s lap. You smile and leave the two, joining the others.

You’ve seen yourself in reflections, and you’ve noticed that your eyes had two different colors. One was hazel, almost like the color of the sun, and the other was a striking blue, as if it had taken the color straight from the oceans of Pandora itself. You’ve never really made it a big deal, but you still get conscious every time the other Na’vi stare at you for too long.

You were cut off with your thoughts as you heard Lo’ak’s voice calling to you.

“Hey (Y/N) come with us, we’re going out!”

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

You laughed as you ran with Kiri, Lo’ak, Spider, and Tuk into the forest.

“Tuk, keep up!” Lo’ak turns to her as you all jogged. “Okay, okay!” She spoke.

“Bro why’d you bring her anyway?” Spider said while you nudged him.

“Cause she’s such a crybaby!” Lo’ak said, turning to face us.

“I’m telling, you’re not supposed to go to the battlefield- I’ll tell mom if you don’t let me come.” Lo’ak said in a high-pitched voice and exaggerated movements. You laughed as Tuk shot her tongue out at him.

“Don’t pick on her.” Kiri says.

You explored some more, seeing an RDA Samson hanging by the vines, completely overrun by nature.

“Kiri!” You called out alongside Tuk and Lo’ak, wondering where the girl could’ve gone. “We have to get back!” You spoke.

On your way back, you were all chatting about what happened and what all of you saw. You were in the middle of making fun of Spider when Lo’ak halted, hopping off the branch and crouching down on the ground. “What is it?” You asked.

“Guys we’re supposed to be home by eclipse!” Tuk reminded.

You watched as Lo’ak carefully inspected the footprint. “That’s way too big for a human…”

“Avatars?” Spider suggested. “Maybe.” Replied Lo’ak.

He began walking which prompted all of you to follow him. “What are you doing?” Kiri asked. “Shh, I’m tracking.”

“I think this is a bad idea…” You mumbled, still following your brother.

“Shh, sis. Besides we could warn father early if we knew what’s out there.” He reasoned.

“Not if we get killed, or captured, or worse—”

“We’re not going to get captured.” Lo’ak confirmed.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

You crouched as you watched Avatars wearing military outfits approach the old, abandoned shack.

“We were never supposed to come here…” Kiri whispers as you crouched beside her. “Lo’ak.. I think we should… Dad’s going to kill us-“

“Shh, stop.” Lo’ak hushed you, you rolled your eyes.

“Bro, we’ve got to check this out.” Lo’ak nudged Spider as they crouched closer to the site.

After a few moments, Lo’ak decided to warn Jake.

“I got eyes on some guys, they look like Avatars… but they’re in full camo and gears and ARs..”

After a few seconds, Lo’ak gulped. “… We’re in the old shack.”

“Who’s we?” You heard Jake say through the comms.

He sighs “Me, Spider, Kiri, (Y/N)… and Tuk.”

With that, Tuk moved a little closer to you and Kiri.

“Yes sir, we’re moving out.” Lo’ak whispered, waving his arms to pull back.

Now you were running away, hoping you’d get back to the village in time.

“You’re in so much trouble.” You speak. “(Y/N) not you too. Stop it.” He replied.

“It’s almost eclipse, come on!” Tuk ushered.

Then everything happened too fast.

One of the avatars in camo popped out, grabbing Tuk as she screamed.

“TUK!” You shout out, looking around you to see them circling around you. You pulled out your dagger as Spider drew his bow as Lo’ak did the same. You hissed at them, glancing around frantically to see their guns pointed straight at you.

“Put them down, put them down!” One commanded.

“Kesatyn (Put those down).” Lo’ak says.

You grunted but obeyed, throwing your dagger down. You were immediately grabbed by the hair and tugged towards someone. You whine in pain as your other siblings were grabbed.

“Kiri, (Y/N)!” Tuk pleaded. Kiri comforted her, telling her to calm down. You were about to speak as well when your hair was tugged again.

You looked around the avatars with gears, mean looking, looked like they were ready to kill with their intimidating guns.

You were held beside Kiri who you could hear praying for safety.

Sighing and closing your eyes, you also thought of a silent prayer.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It seems both you and Kiri’s prayer were answered as your adopted mother, Neytiri, came to your rescue.

Now you were all running with your hands bound as shots could be heard from around you.

“Go, go!” Lo’ak said, supporting you as he gave you a push to go faster as you ran through vines and branches. Your body felt like it wanted to give up already, but you didn’t. From a distance you could hear Kiri screaming. “Spider!”

You and Lo’ak took a glance at each other, knowing that something had possibly happened to him. Your heart began to race even faster, your only human friend your age, who you also considered as a brother- something happened. You could feel it in yourself that it wasn’t good.

But you couldn’t stop. You kept running.

“Let’s go!” You hear Lo’ak shout to both you and Tuk, swinging from vines you landed on the ground, but it wasn’t far from over as new figures met you in the middle, Tuk screaming again.

You were about to attack when you realized it was the figures of your family, your father, mother, sister, and your older brother.

“Hey, hey, woah. Are you guys okay? You good?” Jake asked, meeting every pair of eyes including yours. “Are you hurt? Tuk!” Jake asked, tugging Tuk close to him to inspect her before enclosing her in a hug while Tuk sobbed.

“Are you alright?” You hear Neteyam ask both you and Lo’ak. You nod, you couldn’t really tell if you were hurt, your mind was still racing. “We’re good bro, I think.” Lo’ak said, looking at you before back at Neteyam.

You watched, hidden from them as you saw them depart with their bright flashing lights. Your heart still pounding as you faced one another as Jake approached.

“Okay we’re clear. Everyone okay?” You saw how Neytiri went to hug Tuk as she clung to her arms.

“You boys? It’s good, we’re good.” Jake says, embracing two of his sons, letting out a sigh of relief. “It’s okay.”

“Ma (Y/N), are you hurt?” Neytiri turns her attention to you, using her hand to pull you towards her, inspecting your little face with her huge hands. “I- I think I’m fine, ma.” You say. Neytiri then pulls you, Tuk, and Kiri into a big hug as she said her thanks. “Oh, Great Mother, thank you, thank you.”

You nudged closer to them, fearing that they’ll be gone at any second. Then you heard Lo’ak.

“Where’s Spider?”

Pulling away from your mother’s touch, you looked around, before looking at Kiri, seeing how her expression turned into pain. “They took him. They took him.” She said, her voice breaking as she started to sob. Your mouth went agape, going over to Kiri and hugging her, knowing how much Spider meant to you and her.

Jake stood, watching her daughters cry, holding one another for comfort. He frowns, approaching the two of you as he hugged you both. “It’s okay, hey, look at me.” Jake said, you and Kiri looking up at him with tear-stained eyes that pained Jake’s heart. “He’s gonna make it alright? He’s a tough kid.”

That made you two cry out, burying both your faces in your dad’s shoulder. “Shh, shh, he’s gonna be okay.”

You could feel Jake’s hand hold your head delicately, softly stroking. “We’re all going to be okay.”

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

A few days had passed since that event.

You felt a little bit better, except for your sore muscles.

You were hanging out with Neteyam and Lo’ak, on your way home with your usual playful banter with one another.

“I can catch a fish faster than you bozos.” You mused, a smile on your face.

“Oh yeah, you’re like the size of that fish.” Neteyam said which sent Lo’ak laughing “Good one, bro!”

“Hey! Not fair, dickhead.” You said while Neteyam laughed at your attempt to chase him.

Finally nearing the tent, you could spot Kiri and Tuk kneeling down, seemed to be listening to something, you listened in as Neteyam and Lo’ak were still talking.

Then the three of you met Kiri’s eyes as she raised her hand up before placing the back of her hand to her mouth. ‘Be quiet’ You thought it meant.

You three looked at each other before quietly making your way beside them, kneeling down as you listened.

“You cannot ask this.” You could now hear your mother say clearly. “I cannot leave my people— I will not.”

“He’s hunting us.” Jake said, then he spoke again. “He’s targeting our family-“

“You cannot ask this!” Neytiri shouted making all of you flinch. “The children, everything they’ve ever known- the forest! This is our home!”

“What are they...”

“Shh!” You say to Lo’ak.

“They had our children. He had them under his knife.” Jake hissed. “My father gave me this bow, as he lay dying, and he said protect the people,” You could hear Neytiri’s voice break. “You’re Toruk Makto!”

“This will protect the people!” Jake answered. “Quaritch has Spider, and that kid knows everything!”

“He knows our whole operations!” At the mention of Spider’s name, all of you looked at each other again as you frowned, being reminded again that Spider was gone. Neteyam offered a hand on your shoulder as you looked up at him.

“If the people harbor us, they will die, do you understand?”

You sat back down, looking at the ground.

All of you didn’t know what was about to happen until it did.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

You watched as Mo’at transferred the vest of the Olo’eyktan to Tarsem. Every second you watched felt like it wasn’t happening.

Turning your head quickly once Tarsem landed his blade on Jake, you felt your mother, Neytiri’s hand on your arm. He was no longer the Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto had gone.

You watched as you left the Tree of Souls, every Omaticaya you have known looking at you with great sorrow. You were one of the few humans they had accepted, and now they were seeing you go.

Once you’ve reached the ikrans, you carried your bags with you.

“(Y/N), here, you’ll ride with me, alright?” Jake said, walking over to you and picking your bags, placing them in the pockets of his ikran’s saddle. You nod as you watched your siblings mount on theirs.

Taking a one last glance at the forest, you felt your lip quiver. You were human, you weren’t even supposed to be born in this place yet it was the place you grew up in, made friends with, found your own family when yours had gone.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jake whispers to you.

You mount his ikran, Bob. Before Jake does, shielding your body protectively as you held onto Bob’s antenna.

Then you were flying.

You didn’t know how long you were travelling for, you encountered windy places, sunny ones, and now there was a heavy rain.

You shielded yourself with the much larger coat wrapped around you, almost shivering from the cold as you held onto Bob’s antenna.

“Hey, you alright? Hold on, okay?” Jake said from behind you as you nodded, shielding your face once another huge wave hits.

Then you finally reached the vast ocean. The clear waters making you see every creature that swam underneath it. You kept your eyes peeled as you neared the village. You could already spot some of its people you passed.

Then their horn sounded.

Once the ikran’s feet landed with a thud, Jake tapped you on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Nervousness filled ever fiber of your being as Jake supported you as you landed on the sand, still covering yourself with your coat.

“On me.” Jake said, stepping up front as you stayed behind, in the middle of Neteyam and Lo’ak, where you feel protected.

You then saw two of them approaching you and your brothers, circling them.

“What is that? Is that supposed to be a tail?” One of them said, patting the other on the arm as he laughed. “No, yo look is that…” You met eye contact with the one who made fun of their tails, making the other also look at you.

“Sky people, they have bought demons here.” The other said, now making people’s head turn to you.

Neteyam protectively shields his body from you, eyeing the other two down as Lo’ak did the same.

You kept your composure, already hearing whispers amongst the crowd.

Then you saw her.

Your eyes caught on a curly headed Metkayina, who seems to also be around your age, dismount from a creature, diving in the ocean before emerging once again, walking towards the shore as she flipped her hair.

“Why did they bring one of the sky people here?” The other said. They both take a look at you as you glanced at them. “Woah, did you see her eyes-!”

“Do not! Rotxo, Ao’nung.” She spat, slapping the other on the arm to stop their teasing.

She then meets your eye.

Then you saw it, you saw bright big eyes slightly widen as her head tilted at you. ‘Great, she must think I’m a demon too…’ You thought.

But maybe she doesn’t.

You give her a small nod and an audible “Hi”, in which she returns with the same curious look on her face, yet there was now a smile as she nodded back at you in greeting.

Maybe being here isn’t going to be so bad at all.

Then the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahik came.

You knew you were fucked.

That thought came true when the Tsahik suddenly yanked your coat after inspecting the rests of your siblings and leaving an uncalled-for commentary.

As your coat was thrown, it revealed your human body to everyone, them letting out a comical gasp.

“You dare bring their kind here?! One of the sky people! A demon!” She spoke out loud, staring you down in which you wanted to just crawl into a hole and die as you felt the familiar lump in your throat as you were met with everybody’s eyes. “And this demon,” She inches her face to yours with a snarl, staring you right in the eye. “Is different, but still a demon.”  You knew what she was referring to. Grabbing your arm.

“Hey, hey! Look! She’s part of our family, there’s nothing you can do about it. She’s not with the Sky People, she grew up here in Pandora, with my children.” Jake said.

“She is our daughter.” Neytiri confirmed through gritted teeth at the Tsahik.

She still stared you down, ears flicking upon hearing Neytiri. Somehow, she could sense it was true and let you go, letting your arm drop as you cradled it, her touch was surely to bruise. You were embarrassed enough already as she walked away.

Your older brother, Neteyam, kindly picked your coat back up, ridding the sand off it before wrapping it around you again, noticing the others staring at you for too long, making him glare at them before looking down to you. “You okay?”

But you didn’t look at him as your eyes came in contact again with the girl from earlier as she was frowning, seeming to offer sympathy to you. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Once they had granted your family uturu, you were now carrying your bags towards your own marui. You couldn’t help but still feel conscious, feeling their stare on you as the others still whispered.

You looked to the side to see a Metkayina kid approaching you with a curious look on their face, when their mother followed, stopping their child as she pulls them, looking at you with a devious glare.

Shaking your head, you moved forward.

Then you finally reached your destination.

“This is for you, your new home.” You heard the girl from earlier speak, and my god you swore her voice was the softest thing you’ve ever known. “This is great. This is nice, right?” Jake said. You inspected the inside, then you heard a thud and a sigh, making you look at your mother to see she had dropped her stuff. Yikes.

They had let you rest for the day as you were tired from the hours of flight you just had endured to get here.

Settling in, it wasn’t easy as you thought. Well, it really wasn’t, considering you were still human who had different colored eyes. It made all of the Metkayina stare at you when they just spot you outside exploring with your siblings.

This morning, you arranged your stuff as you claimed your spot inside the marui. You also had the change of clothes offered by the chief’s daughter, who’s name you learned was Tsireya. A name you think you could get used to saying. She offered them to your sisters and you, to better suit the ocean and the climate.

For now, you had decided to explore the area again with your siblings.

“Tuk, careful, you might fall!” You warn your little sibling as she jumped and jumped over the platform, making ‘boing, boing, boing’ noises with her mouth.

“Careful, Tuk.” Neteyam followed behind you. You were still wary of the place, wondering how things ran around here when your eyes scanned the areas. Still, you’ve been already half-accustomed to the half of the Awa’atlu village staring at you, some already got over it, while others gave you weird looks.

You were in mid thought when Tuk lets out an ‘Oumph’ making you perk your head up.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Then came the soft voice, holding Tuk steady. Tuk shyly giggles “Sorry!”

“Tuk.” Lo’ak called for his little sister, making Tuk turn and head towards Lo’ak. Now you were met face to face with Tsireya.

It only dawned on you how she was taller than you by a foot, you guessed, her big blue eyes looking down on you with that look of curiosity. You feel yourself shy under her gaze. “Sorry for that.” You apologize.

“No, no, it is alright, it is important for you guys to feel welcomed here.” She says to you.

Lo’ak and Neteyam could only snicker in the background as they witnessed you completely be a nervous wreck in front of the chief’s daughter, with poor Tuk not knowing what was going on. “Why are you guys laughing?”

“Yes, we- we feel welcomed.” You answer, although you sounded like you weren’t. Tsireya caught onto that but didn’t say anything, however, she was very much interested in looking at you, and knowing more about you, your kind, and of course, you in general. She had never seen a ‘Sky People’ before and… were they really this small? And did every ‘Sky People’ had the same eyes as you?

You were now really feeling shy as she inspected you, so you looked everywhere, breaking eye contact with her, making her realize what she was doing as she shakes her head, a slight dark tint to teal-green round cheeks.

“That is good, I can’t wait to start teaching you guys tomorrow.” She said with enthusiasm, looking at Neteyam, Lo’ak and Tuk, who returned her smile and nodded, then she looked at you.

You finally smile, and Tsireya almost chirped at how you looked. Cute

You were about to speak again when somebody called out to her, making her turn her head.

“Oh, it looks like I am needed…” She turns back. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

“You bet.” You reply out of thought, immediately cringing at your tone with a scrunch of your nose, however you hear Tsireya giggle and wave at you goodbye as she jogged away.

You turn around and you were met with the playful looks from your siblings, mainly Neteyam and Lo’ak. You still cringed as you approached them, smacking their arms as they let out an ‘Ow’

“Let’s go.” You speak and Tuk clings to you as you start walking back.

“Oooh, someone’s in love.” Lo’ak started. “Oh, wonder who it could be brother, hm?” Neteyam joined him in his mischief. “I think it’s our sister, maybe? I’m not sure.” Lo’ak followed.

“I will literally drown you guys in acid if you keep this up.” You threatened.

“No, (Y/N) don’t do that!” Tuk pleaded, making your brothers laugh out loud.

Walking back to your pod, you saw your father. The moment he spots you he nods “Okay, Sully’s fall in.”

“Didn’t know we had a family meeting.” You said, Jake gives you a look before all of you sat or kneeled.

“First off, I need you kids on your best behaviour,” Jake started, hand outstretched as if he was blessing us to be good. “I mean it. Learn fast, pull your weight.” He spoke. “Don’t cause trouble, got it?”

“Yes sir.” Lo’ak replied. You and Neteyam look at Lo’ak in the middle of you two with a smirk. Neteyam playfully places a hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder, yet Lo’ak was having none of it as he hissed at Neteyam, making the two of you laugh.

“I want to go home.” Tuk suddenly says, a frown etched on her face as you pursed your lips, placing a comforting hand on her arm as she wiped her tears with her other hand. “Aw, Tuk.” Neytiri says, frowning as well.

“Tuk,” Jake said in a whisper “This is our home now.”

He grabs Tuk’s hand before looking at all of you. “We’re gonna get through this. We’re going to get through this if we have each other’s backs. Right?”

“What does your father always say?” Neytiri inquired.

“Sully’s stick together.” Neteyam was the first one to respond in a hushed voice. “That’s right, Sully’s stick together… Now this time with some feeling.” Jake requested.

“Sully’s stick together.” You all said simultaneously.  

[therapycat21]

All Right Now Part 3

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description: The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None

Social Media AU

Before I knew it, two days had passed, and Travis and I had been texting each other in between the time we were both not busy with our hectic lives. I’m standing in front of my floor-to-ceiling mirror in my closet trying to figure out the best outfit for tonight, I finally settle on one.

I give myself a once over in the mirror taking a deep breath and grabbing all of my belongings.

My Phone chimes from where it is sitting on the vanity with a message, I glance at the message to see it is Trav letting me know he is here. I take one last deep breath before heading out to my home entrance. I open the door, seeing the 6’5 football player nervously adjusting his jacket.

“Hi” I blush under his deep gaze, I smile before nervously retouching my hair. He gives a giant smile before reaching out to hug me “Hey, you look absolutely beautiful” he lets go, reaching his hand out for me to grab, I take his hand and he guides us to his car, which is probably the most beautiful car I’ve ever seen.

He opens the car door guides me into the set, shuts the door, and jogs to the other side. He starts the car and we’re off.

We pulled into a beautiful restaurant with lots of vines and twinkly lights hanging from the ceiling. Before I knew it we were eating and laughing like absolute maniacs. We had a ton more in common than I ever thought I could with someone, He makes me smile and giggle like a little girl. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” he tells me with a huge grin, I laugh “Well I can’t believe I did either but that’s what happens when you have too many drinks” I take a quick sip of my drink.

  He sets his fork down before reaching down for a small bag “By the way I have a gift for you” he smirks before setting the bag between us on the table. I swallow the rest of my drink before hesitantly reaching for the object inside the bag

“You didn’t have to get me anything, now I feel bad I didn’t get you anything” I stop before I can say anything else, I’m a little speechless. In the bag sits a bright red Chiefs jersey with his number on the back “Oh wow” I glance up at him my face shocked. He took my silence as a bad thing and tried to revert “If you don’t like it, It’s fine I can keep it.” I shake my head profusely knowing he is reading my silent response wrong. “No! No, I really like it, I guess you were right about needing a new jersey with your number on it” I smirk at him. Seeing my approval he sighs in relief. 

“Well there is another part of the gift,” he tells me, reaching into his jacket pocket, and pulling out two tickets “This is for our next home game, and I wanted to see if you’d come and sit in the box and maybe wear the jersey?” he smirks. I smile before reaching out for the tickets “I would love to go, is it okay if I bring my mom?” I question.

“Absolutely” Smiling brighter he says. The night continues on with us joking, laughing, and finding out every detail about each other. 

Before I knew it, the night was coming to a close and we were on our way back to my house, standing by the door. “It was really fun tonight, thank you for this,” I tell him in a small tone. He reaches up and touches my hair slightly “Yeah It was, I can’t wait to do it again” he smirks 

“Again?” I question smiling

 “Oh yeah, we’re definitely doing this again, end goal, me and you are end game, I’m calling it now” He smiles at me. In shock from what he said

 “End game?” I whisper in shock.

 Still smiling “Oh yeah, I already told my family, I found my end game,” he says still acting nonchalantly about what he is saying. 

I try to let it sink in on what he is saying. I smile big before reaching up and bringing my hand to his cheek, motioning his face closer to mine testing to make sure he is okay with it,  more than okay. He closes the space between us, pulling me closer by his palm cupping the back of my head. 

For the first time in my life.

I feel safe, secure, and happy.

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

TAGLIST:

@whitemanswhore3

@bxdbxtxh15

@cixrosie

@kkrenae

@the-untamed-soul

@calirindo

[strawberryspence]

I am not sure if i am weird or if everyone has one. But, you know how sometimes Steddie writers say, “Everyone lives, Eddie and Max lives. I will not explain.”? Which is great, let’s go straight to the kissing but in my head I have an automatic background story to how they survive that I always use (Unless the writers explain how they survive). If you have one, please, tell me because I am actually curious if this is just me and my mind.

Here’s mine:

Vecna’s dead. There’s no earthquake. Max gets a leg and arm broken and that’s it. Lucas hits Jason so hard in the head he gets a concussion, that when he starts speaking about floating people the hospital people thinks it’s because of the concussion. Erica calls the police on Andy and Jason, explaining that they attacked them. The police believe them (Where else would Max get the broken arm and leg?)

Steve finds Dustin crying over Eddie’s body. No, no, no, Eddie’s not dead. The first thing Steve checks is his pulse, its faint but it’s there. His whole body hurts, still kind of dizzy from being choked by vines but he carries Eddie out of hell. When they arrive to the hospital, Steve makes sure that Eddie gets the right treatment, makes sure that Eddie was taken care of, that Dustin was getting treatment, that Max and the other kids are okay, that Nancy and Robin are coping okay and when everyone is alright and safe. He politely taps Robin on the shoulder and says, “I am going to pass out. I am sorry.” before passing out.

When he wakes up, it’s three days later. He’s in his own hospital room, hooked up with his own IV and shit and he gets the roulette of scolding from Robin, then from Nancy, and then from Eddie himself. He gets a visit from Hopper who is fucking alive, the Byers who are back in town with their new long haired friend that weirdly smells like pot and a Russian guard who apparently saved Hopper. (Murray is somewhere, drinking tequila, still shaking his head, because did he really just crawl out of a russian prison?”)

All is Well.

[hotteoki]

pirate king (j.y.h)

pairing: pirate jeong yunho x fem reader

genre: strangers to lovers, alternate dimension, pirate au

wc: 4k

cw: mild language, weaponry

notes: i wrote this with the layout of the ateez ship in mind (the one in the 'illusion' mv but with blond yunho cause he 4+4 the halloween ver of deja vu

xtra - tysm @woosluv & @ssaboala for beta reading for me! <33

"all eyes on me now! if you still doubt mine, it's too pointless. we're still young and wild, we gonna find new world to be mine!" yunho's fingers moved along the quote carved into the compass he's had since who knows how long.

yunho's head was lifted up forcefully by hongjoong's pointing stick poking his forehead. "you're going to get lost later on the island if you don't listen to me right now," hongjoong tilted his head, stepping back to the blackboard. "captain, i mean this in the nicest way possible, we've been over this, like, six times in the span of a week. we'll be fine," yeosang called from across the room as he tapped his telescope against his other palm, still dodging wooyoung's outstretched arms every now and then.

"you all say this but i know one of you is going to get into some shit and i'm going to have to be the one to clean it up," hongjoong sighed, dropping his pointer onto the ground lazily, "okay, come on, let's get off the ship. remember the plan, and wooyoung, stop trying to kiss yeosang's face. you can do that when we come back."

yunho kicked the ladder down onto the dock, stepping off the ship first. the crew split up, him going into the left path trailing into the cave. they all knew exactly what they were looking for, and the lengths each and every one of them were willing to take to get it.

it was peaceful until a rustle attracted his attention. yunho paused, pretending to re-lace his shoes, his eyes darting to his left, the direction where the sound had come from. when it was calm for the following minute, yunho slowly stood to continue his journey, putting on an oblivious façade, his hand subtly inching for his sheathed cutlass with every step.

yunho wasn't stupid. he's had enough experience to know not to doubt his senses at any cost. true to him, the snapping of a branch immediately heightened his senses. he swiftly cut through the thick, tall grass, eyes meeting with ones belonging to an innocent doe.

as the doe ran off, yunho only noted then how it was running along the path he was on. the cogs in his head whirred in confusion as he wondered why a deer wouldn't run away from a potential predator, rather in the same direction as him. that thought never escaped as he trudged on, praying the cave he was walking towards would appear before him faster.

and lo and behold, there it was.

if yunho hadn't been looking for it specifically he would've missed it entirely. it blended in perfectly with the shadows of the swaying trees, outgrown weeds guarding the entrance, vines crawling around, all leading straight into the depths of the cave.

peeking into the darkness, he checked every corner, sharp eyes darting here and there. finally, they landed on an unusual glimmering spot. yunho stepped closer, cautious of the fact he was now exposed to any potential predators hiding deep in the cave.

he was about a meter away from the shining rock when he realised it wasn’t a rock at all. it was an hourglass etched into the cave walls, almost like the cave was built around it over the years. he breathed out a light sigh of relief upon feeling the grooves of the rock nearby. it wasn’t etched in that deep. he could easily pull it out with a bit of help.

he allowed himself a few more minutes of admiring the hourglass. the cromer, its name was. an hourglass with the ability to lead them to an alternate dimension, where they could escape this timeline that caused each and every one of them so much pain and loss.

after stealing books from other pirates, following leads from old legends, tracking down their ancestors' footsteps, seonghwa had finally found a map hidden deep in the journals of an unknown pirate, their initials and writings long faded within the centuries. the joy the crew had felt when they located the hourglass after years was a night yunho could not forget.

just as he was about to turn back and find his crewmates, yunho was greeted with the sight of the very doe blocking his exit. when it was made clear that the doe had no intentions of moving at all, yunho unsheathed his cutlass. this was no ordinary animal.

his theory was proved right when a gust of wind blew against his face. removing his hand from his face and opening his eyes, he tried to conceal his shock. where the doe had stood before was a girl about his age.

“you’re a shapeshifter.” you raised your eyebrows at his statement, “obviously.” “i thought they didn’t exist anymore after hunters hunted them down ages ago,” yunho still had his cutlass held in front of him, wary of this new stranger. “yeah, i know. that was centuries ago. there’re still a few of us left, but most of us don’t want to be found.” “you’re not one of them, though,” yunho pointed out.

“and with good reason,” you stepped closer as yunho stepped back. sighing, you held up your hands in surrender, “do i look like i’m going to attack you or something?” “you can never be too careful,” he shrugged.

“i’ll tell you an easier way of getting that hourglass without taking this cave down.” yunho’s arm faltered, “what do you mean?” “this entire island relies on the life within the roots, the air, the animals, you know, all that shit. you break this cave the entire island goes down with it. you and your crew would never make it out alive.”

he swallowed. he wasn’t sure if you could be trusted. shapeshifters were known to be tricksters, always up to no good. what if you were playing with him and he could’ve saved precious time taking the hourglass instead of talking to you? after meeting your impatient eyes, he finally decided to play it safe.

“what do you want in return?” “get me off this island,” you replied instantly. the lack of hesitation in your voice made yunho believe you’ve had thought about this for a long, long time. he sucked in a breath through his gritted teeth. the crew couldn’t just find an extra person for charity. they were already rationing their supplies amongst themselves, adding another person might as well be a goodbye to their albeit uncomfortable but familiar living.

“take me with you or no hourglass. your choice,” you crossed your arms, tone firm. yunho swallowed again, putting his cutlass away and rubbing a hand on his face, “you’ll have to talk to the captain.” “fine, then take me to him.” “you can’t just-” yunho wanted to scream. despite being a pirate since birth, he’d never experienced a situation like this, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

“you know what? fine, let’s go find him,” yunho pursed his lips. he knew for a fact hongjoong would never agree, but how else were they supposed to get the hourglass? it wasn’t like they could just bow their heads and march back onto the ship and off.

reminding himself of the crudely drawn map in their meeting room, yunho walked for what felt like hours with the intensity of your glare burning the back of his head. he thought he could drop onto his knees and thank the heavens the second he saw the familiar back of hongjoong.

hongjoong darted up at the sound of foreign footsteps, swinging his pistol at your face out of instinct. “she wants to speak to you,” yunho deadpanned, annoyed at the situation he was currently in. hongjoong lowered his pistol slightly, aiming at your chest now, “what do you want?” “i’ll talk when you get this pistol out of my face,” you frowned.

“i’m the one with the upper hand here, you really shouldn’t be making demands.” “considering i’m one of the remaining residents of this island who knows what you’re looking for and how to get it without dying, i don’t think you are.” hongjoong made a face, “and how do i know you’re telling the truth?” “you pirates. always so nervous about everything you see,” you paused, “i want to get off this island, you can help with that, and in return i’ll give you the hourglass.”

yunho looked for a reaction from hongjoong. when he was met with none, yunho was almost disappointed over the fact that his captain was considering his answer. “okay then,” hongjoong put his pistol away, “lead the way.” yunho felt his cheeks flushing at your cheeky smile. sure, he disliked you and your cocky attitude, but he wasn’t blind. anyone could tell you were gorgeous.

“i told you guys one of you was going to get into some shit. now look who’s cleaning it up?”

≡☆

it took a while for the entire crew to be gathered in the tiny cave the cromer rested in, all squished together to get a look at the hourglass while poor mingi stood on his tiptoes at the mouth of the cave. yunho watched in awe as you lifted your hands up, determined to keep his eyes open, only to be slapped with another aggressive gust of wind blowing in his face again.

he blinked cautiously, not realising his eyes had shut involuntarily. yunho vaguely felt his breath hitching at the infamous hourglass held in your hands. the gentle glow of each individual grain amongst the heaps of sand shimmered, tugging on his attention, while contrasting with the simple and plain metal supporting the phials.

“so?” you shifted your weight, waiting for something to happen.

and something happened indeed.

one look from hongjoong was all the crew needed as san shoved you to the ground, with seonghwa snatching the cromer from your grip and tossing it to jongho, the rest sprinting back to their ship. yunho followed his crewmates swiftly, but not before throwing his head back and yelling a quick “sorry!”

in his defense, he was sorry. just not sorry enough to feel guilty about it.

he nearly crashed straight into wooyoung’s back as he skidded to a sudden halt, confused as to why they stopped. sitting on the edge of the ship, legs swinging with an unamused expression, was you. but how…

“you really think you can outrun a doe? how self-centered.” hongjoong stared right back at you, irritated, “you can’t come with us.” “then i’ll take that back.” “i’d like to see you try,” he retorted, pistol now in hand again, “you can outrun me but can you outrun a bullet aiming straight for your head?” you huffed, “i’m not asking you to adopt me or anything, i just need you to drop me off at the nearest island.”

“bullshit. you’re saying you want to go from one island to another?” jongho scoffed from beside wooyoung. “i can’t leave this place without company. please just-” you sighed, and yunho could tell you felt defeated, “please just take me with you.” if he didn’t feel guilty enough, he definitely felt bad now. “cap, maybe we should take her.”

hongjoong gave him an odd look, clearly bewildered, “you were the one who insisted on leaving her.” “yeah well, i kinda feel bad for her now. she’ll stay with us for a few days maximum then we’ll just drop her off somewhere,” yunho briefly glanced at you, lowering his voice now, “i mean, maybe she really can’t leave. what, are we just going to dump her here?”

“i say we make her a deal,” yeosang chimed in, “she can live with us until we locate a nearby island, but if we arrive and it ends up being a bad one, she can’t argue and climb back aboard.” hongjoong nodded approvingly, “yeah, that sounds good.”

yunho watched as your face lit up when he repeated their deal to you. he silently swore to himself to always bring happiness to you during your stay if it meant he could catch a glimpse of your endearing smile again.

≡☆

yunho had volunteered to wrap up the cut on your arm you earned from san’s shove, despite seonghwa usually being the one to tend to the crew’s injuries. he led you down the stairs and to the medical room (which, really, was just their meeting room with a medical kit placed on the table), kicking away scraps of used bandages to the corner, praying you didn’t see them.

as he sat you down opposite him and began prepping the bandages, he began to wonder about you. where were your parents? how did you manage to come onto the island? why did you not have friends? what-

“you look like you have questions.” his gaze snapped up from your arm to your eyes, “no i- well, yeah, kind of.” you laughed lightly, “it’s okay, i get it. i’d be confused too.” yunho hoped you took the redness tainting his cheeks as embarrassment from being caught rather than his giddiness from your laugh. he motioned for you as he got started on wrapping your arm.

“i used to live on a different island, where my parents were. i met this guy, chan, and after being friends with him for a year or so, he offered to take me on a trip with his seven friends. i agreed. i honestly don’t know why i did. it was a spur of the moment thing. i followed him to the docks, where his ship was. turns out he’s a pirate and he’s the captain, much like your crew, actually.

“they said they wanted to go find some ‘treasures’, i just assumed they were joking around. they said they wanted to find an hourglass, i think one of the crew, hyunbin or whatever, said it belonged to his father. i remembered having heard some legends about it, and offered to lead the way. we searched for months, and finally found it on this island.

“when we arrived, they began arguing over who got to have it; they all had a different timeline in mind. someone wanted to go find their dead parents, someone wanted to rescue their girlfriend, it was- it was a lot,” you closed your eyes, throwing your head back, “we weren’t even from this timeline, for fuck’s sake! they fucked with the cromer as soon as they got their grubby hands on it, knowing damn well it was a full moon! i don’t even know what happened, to be honest, either that, or i can’t remember. it doesn’t matter. i don’t want to anyway.

“i think it’s something to do with the stupid hourglass. my theory is it passes down ownership to whomever it deems worthy to hold it, eliminating the past owners. that’s how i ended up alone. i tell myself they each left one by one, but it still bothers me how cursed magic like that exists. i don’t know, the whole thing’s really messed up. i guess being the holder gives you power to hide or expose it to others, because, well, as you saw, i could play around with its surroundings.” yunho hummed, taking in all the information.

he tightened the knot on your bandage, breathing out through his nose and rocking on his chair, “well, now that i know a lot about you, ask me anything you want.” “anything?” you lifted your head up again, eyes wide. yunho smiled, “yeah.” you leaned forward, head resting against your palms, “how are you so cute?”

yunho began spluttering, rocking a bit too far back on his chair, nearly falling over until you grabbed his hand, laughing at his reaction. as soon as he steadied himself, he yanked his hand away, feeling like his entire skin was on fire. you had a proud grin on your face, “i’m playing with you. though, really, you are cute.” he was genuinely convinced right then and there that you were the human form of heaven itself with the way his heart was palpitating.

the only dilemma yunho was having with himself was the fact that you couldn’t stay with them.

he liked to think that you shared the same thought as him.

≡☆

somehow, hours later, yunho found himself next to you on the beach, admiring the sunset from afar. “i haven’t had company in ages,” you commented, “it’s nice. especially since it’s you.” yunho had really wanted to kick his feet and giggle over your bold words, but he opted for a light chuckle.

“do you ever miss your old timeline? or dimension, or however you say it,” he regretted his words instantly at the sad look on your face. “all the time. i had a boyfriend, you know? he tried to stop me from going. i ignored him out of spite because of the amount of arguments we got into before i left. they were mostly to do with chan, he never trusted him, and neither should i have.”

yunho ignored the new, strange sense of jealousy he was feeling, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “you wouldn’t have known.” you only gave a weak smile in response. “so tell me about your boyfriend.” you stiffened up slightly before relaxing again. if yunho wasn’t staring at you, he would’ve missed it entirely.

“well, he was the sweetest guy i’ve ever met. people compared him to a puppy all the time because of his energy,” you hesitated, “he had dyed blond-ish hair, a cute smile, a great sense of humour. he was tall, and was really popular. he always knew just how to cheer me up when i was down. he was considerate, caring, kind, he was everything.” yunho felt himself slowly getting upset. how could he ever compare to him? he sounded perfect.

“jealous?” you teased, nudging him. “not at all,” yunho rolled his eyes, playing with his compass again. he watched your eyes lower onto the very object, a soft look in them. “of course you still have it,” you murmured. “what?” yunho furrowed his brows. had he heard correctly? “it’s nothing.”

≡☆

nighttime rolled around and eventually all of them gathered around; yunho had found himself subconsciously scooting closer to you, landing himself a knowing look from mingi.

while your eyes connected with the flames yeosang started minutes ago, yunho couldn’t help but admire every inch of your carefully sculpted face. it was funny, wasn’t it? how he, at first, hated your overconfident demeanour, your demanding character, your addictive voice, your adorable laugh… huh. maybe he’d never hated you.

“so are you guys going to hide it now that you have to wait to use it?” you tilted your head curiously, and yunho wanted to choke a fistful of sand down his throat to contain the squeals that were threatening to bubble up with how absolutely beautiful you were. he shrugged, “most likely.” “the full moon’s in three days. where would you hiding it for three days?” “up san’s ass,” wooyoung laughed, before getting smacked by san.

yunho couldn’t bring himself to laugh at wooyoung’s immature joke. not when he now knew that he never had a chance with you to begin with.

but hearing your contagious laughter made him think of how lucky he was to have met you at all.

≡☆

“i know you, yunho, and i know you like her-” “like is an exaggeration.” seonghwa rolled his eyes, “just listen to me. she’s not going to be staying with us for long, and if you keep giving yourself a chance to get to know her, you’ll end up getting heartbroken.” “but isn’t that the point? maybe, when we use the cromer and get to a different dimension, maybe we can be together there…” he trailed off at how ridiculous he sounded. “that’s not how it works, and you know it,” seonghwa’s tone was now stern, almost to the point of telling yunho off.

“she clearly likes me too, can’t we at least enjoy the little amount of time we have together?” mingi tossed an arm around yunho from behind, “i say go for it.” “of course you’d say that,” seonghwa tsked, before continuing, “i’m asking you, as part of your crew, and your friend, to think this through.” “i am thinking this through!” yunho insisted, “i’d rather go through a heavy heartbreak than leave her with a bunch of ‘what if’s. i really do like her, seong-”

“no, you’re thinking this with your plan of finding her in a different timeline. yunho, you can’t do that. do you know how risky that is? ignoring the fact how we’ve only known her for a day too!” “of course i know,” he hissed, “but i don’t care how risky it is. i’m doing it.” “love at first sight, some might say,” mingi patted yunho’s shoulder. “oh, don’t get him started on love now,” seonghwa groaned. “love is a stretch, but i definitely find her interesting enough to want to be with her.” “just say you like her, yunho. everyone and their mothers can hear your giggles at night in your room,” hongjoong teased.

yunho’s face flushed, “i don’t giggle!” with that, he left the tiny crowd and stormed off to the meeting room. to his surprise, you were sitting at his regular seat, examining his compass. he left it there?

“so you want to be with me?” you raised an eyebrow, running a thumb over the quote the same way yunho does. “what- no?” yunho scoffed, taking a seat beside you. “i heard you guys. you get loud when you’re defensive. it’s okay, it’s cute.” yunho was at a loss for words. grasping for straws to change the topic, he gestured to the compass, “why did you say something like ‘i still have it’?”

you grew silent, and yunho thought you hadn’t heard him. he was about to repeat his question when you opened your mouth to answer, “i knew you, jeong yunho.” he flinched at the full name coming out of your mouth, “how…” “in my timeline. i knew you.”

you had the same stiff posture as you did on the beach, and yunho recalled what you were talking about during that time, “your boyfriend…” “yeah.” suddenly it all made sense. the dyed blond hair, the puppy personality, tall… yunho had heard every single one of them.

“we were together?” his voice was barely above a whisper. you nodded sadly, a bittersweet smile plastered, “i never got to say sorry for not believing you.” “well, at least i got an apology now,” he wrapped his hand around yours, the compass in between your interlocked fingers, and the cromer, your chance of a new happily ever after, placed on the table just centimetres away.

networks - @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Corpse Bride

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Dead!Reader

Word Count: ~6.6k

Warnings: marrying the dead, if you've seen the movie, then you know what to expect. if you haven't seen the movie, then go watch it. it's amazing

Summary: Your hopes and dreams were taken from you in the blink of an eye. You're destined to spend eternity in the viel, waiting for your Prince Charming to show up. When he does, he claims it was a mistake. How can you convince him to stay? Will you get your second chance at love?

Square Filled: character death (2022) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: this is one of my favorite movies, so I decided to write a story based on it.

x

Spencer paces the forest floor nervously with the engagement ring in his hand. He’s been a nervous wreck ever since he asked his short-term girlfriend to marry him. He’s not ready for marriage whatsoever but his parents and her parents think this marriage is a good thing and will benefit both families. His family is well off while hers is a bit poor. Her family owns a business Spencer’s parents want a part of, so if he scratches her back, she scratches his.

No matter what he does, he can’t seem to get it right. The vows are pretty easy to remember but he can’t seem to get the words out. He likes Maeve a lot and there is potential for love later on down the road but his parents want this to happen now. He left the rehearsal wedding to be on his own to gather his thoughts and feelings about this whole thing.

“I can’t do this. I’m not ready to be a husband. What were my parents thinking?” he thinks out loud. “I like Maeve. I like how she makes me feel but is she ready to be a wife? Does she even want this?”

Spencer paces back and forth with the ring in his hand.

“Come on, Spencer! What am I saying? I can’t do this to Maeve. She deserves everything good coming her way. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I were to walk out on her now? I can do this. Just take it one step at a time.”

Spencer straightens and fixes his tie to make himself look more presentable even though there is no one around but him. He raises his right hand confidently and begins his vows.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrow.” He grabs a branch nearby and pretends it’s Maeve’s delicate one. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” He breaks off the branch and pretends it’s the cup of wine he’ll have to lift and drink from at the actual wedding. He walks over to a small stump and pretends it’s a candle that he will have to light. “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness.” He drops the branch and looks over at a set of vines that looks like a human hand. He grabs it gently and takes out the ring so he can slide it on one of the small sticks protruding from the base. “With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

He slides the ring onto one of the sticks and pulls away with a satisfied smile. This is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’ve laid to rest in this forest for almost half a decade just waiting for your Prince Charming to finally come save you. The one you were with did you dirty but you were okay with waiting for the right one to come by, and he’s finally here. The ring he slid on your finger is shiny and delicate just like your feelings.

Spencer looks around the empty forest and decides it’s best if he goes back to his family and does the wedding rehearsal right. Just as he is about to grab the ring, the branch crackles to life. He jumps back in shock as the ground shakes with vigor. The ground cracks and opens to give you enough room to crawl out of your shallow grave.

Spencer yells in shock when he sees a deadly hand shoot up from the ground. It’s like a scene from The Living Dead coming to life. You claw your way out of your grave and stand to your full height, and you grin at the ring on your skeleton finger. Your entire left arm is just your bones as the flesh had been eaten off previously. Your right arm is covered with sickly grey flesh that hasn’t yet been devoured. Most of your body still contains your flesh with holes showing your bones. You’re wearing a dirty white wedding dress that was your mother’s. It goes all the way down to your feet but has a slit in the front of it that goes up to your mid-thigh. It shows off both your legs when you walk--one flesh and one completely bare to the bone.

If Spencer didn’t know any better, he might have thought you were someone from a movie with a bunch of makeup on you. However, he just saw you claw your way back to the surface of Earth like it was nothing.

“My, oh my! What a beautiful ring!” you sing and dance happily around your new husband. Hearing you speak breaks Spencer out of a trance. He quickly gets up and starts running away from you, scared for his life. “Wait! Where are you going?”

Spencer is fast when he thinks his life is in danger, but you know these woods like the back of your hand. You used to sneak out here with your fiance to get away from your lives. That’s back when you thought you were going to be happy for the rest of your life. There are plentiful shortcuts to get to the entrance into the forest, so you take those to catch up to Spencer.

He pants heavily and decides to take a break right on the bridge that separates the town from the forest. He looks behind him but you’re not there. He thinks he’s safe so he turns to walk back into town but stops when you’re right in front of him. He yells and jumps back but you’re not letting him go this time.

“I do. You may not kiss the bride,” you smile.

You grab him and lean in to kiss him but he faints in your arms. You’ve never seen a person faint before. There is someone who can help so you use your deadly powers to summon yourself back into the underworld with Spencer in hand.

“Y/N! New arrival?” your best friend Marcy asks.

“No, it’s my husband.”

“Husband? That dick returned?”

“No, silly. His name is Spencer. He said his vows perfectly and gave me this ring.” You show off the delicate diamond that shines brightly against your white bones. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“What happened to him?”

“He fainted as soon as I kissed him. I’m trying to get him to Dr. Hubert. He’ll be able to help him.”

“Let me help you.”

You two take Spencer over to the doctor’s office even though none of the dead need to be seen by the doctor. He’s often stated it keeps him tied to his humanity. The doctor’s office is located right next to the bar everyone hangs out in so you’re not surprised to see the doctor taking shot after shot.

“Dr. Hubert!”

“Y/N, darling! We’ve missed you. How was the surface?”

“Riveting. I got married,” you grin and show off your ring.

“Splendid! Where is he?”

“Right here,” you say and show him Spencer who is still out cold. “He fainted when I kissed him. Is there something you can do to help him?”

“Oh, my. He’s living!”

Everyone stops their chatter to look over at Spencer. As soon as they hear a living is among them, they all get curious. No living people visit you so it’s amazing when someone does.

“Yes. Can you wake him up?”

“Let me at him!” The small bartender scatters across the bar table using his tiny bug legs. He was decapitated many centuries ago, so the only thing keeping him moving is the bugs that live inside his head. “I can tickle him awake.”

“I don’t think so, Pierre. Let Dr. Hubert handle this one.”

“Yes, I see the problem. Charger, your finest bottle, please.” The other bartender gets the best bottle of alcohol and hands it over to the doctor. He downs a shot before hovering the top of it underneath Spencer’s nose. Spencer gets one whiff of the stuff and shoots awake, like smelling salts. “Works like a charm.”

“Hey, whoa, you’re okay, darling,” you grin and calm him down.

He sees all kinds of dead people in all different stages of decomposition which freaks him out. He scrambles to get up and backs into someone who has a gaping hole in her throat.

“Are you sure he’s the one you married? He looks so scared,” Marcy asks you.

“Yes. He said his vows perfectly. Spencer, please calm down. Let me explain.”

Spencer doesn’t give you a chance because he’s already trying to get away from you. He pushes past many skeletons without knowing where he’s going. All he knows is he needs to get the hell out of here. You sigh and look at everyone who is staring at you.

“I’m sorry. He’s new at all of this. Let me go talk to him.”  You follow in his footsteps but calmly. “Spencer! Come back, darling!” Spencer weaves in and out of the crowd, taking left and right turns haphazardly without knowing where it’s going to take him. “Spencer, darling, where are you?” You turn to see his legs disappear around the corner and when you go investigate, you see a set of stairs leading up to the cliffs above. Spencer is sitting on the bench trying to catch his breath. “There you are, silly.” He jumps at your voice and is about to run again but you hold your hands up. “Please don’t run. Let me explain everything.”

“Fine,” he sighs, mostly because he doesn't want to keep running.

You walk to the railing along the cliff’s edge and look at the city below.

“Isn’t this view amazing? It takes my breath away. You know, if I had any,” you chuckle. You walk over to Spencer and join him on the bench, and you smooth down your dress. “I’ll answer any questions you have.”

“What is going on? Who are you? Where am I? Who are all those people down there? Is this a joke? Is this real life?”

“Calm down, love,” you giggle. “One question at a time.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Y/N.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the Underworld. It’s the place where everyone goes when they die. There is no Heaven or Hell. It’s all one place where we all reside.”

“So, you’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“How did you die?” Spencer’s eyes widen when he realizes how inappropriate that question is. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“Spencer, you’re my husband. You can ask me anything you want. I was once in love with someone else. He was much older than I was and he told me everything I wanted to hear. He treated me like I was a princess and roped me in. When I told my parents about him, my father wasn’t thrilled I was with someone like him. He told me to stop seeing him but I wouldn't listen. This man and I decided to elope and run away. The only thing he told me to bring was cash and all the gold I could grab. I thought he wanted that to start our future with.”

Telling this story to someone in such an intimate setting brings you to tears but you refuse to let them fall.

“My mother’s wedding dress fit me like a glove. I waited at the base of the tree where you found me but he didn’t show up. I waited for what felt like hours. I was about to leave when he finally showed up. The last thing I saw was him charging at me. The first thing I saw when I woke up was my wedding dress was torn, my cash and gold were missing, and my skin was cold as ice. I was dead. I laid at the base of that tree for years, waiting for my Prince Charming to save me. Then you came along, and everything fell into place.”

“I‘m sorry,” Spencer sighs. “No one deserves that.”

“It’s in the past. You’re here now. Everything is better.”

“What about all those people down there? Are they all dead?”

“Everyone here is dead except for you. I had to bring you here. You fainted when I kissed you.”

“Can you blame me? The dead don’t rise where I’m from.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckle. “There’s good people down here. They’re super nice. If you allow it, I’d love to introduce you to some of them. Will that be okay?”

Spencer has had some time to wrap his head around this. He’s not panicking anymore, and his breathing is under control. He feels like he can address this with a calm head. He looks over your entire body and sees the ring on your skeleton hand. How the hell did he get himself in this situation?

“Yeah, that’ll be okay,” he nods.

You get up and grab Spencer’s hand that he doesn’t immediately shake off. You take him back down to the bar where everyone is having a good time. Marcy is doing shots with Dr. Hubert, and she waves you over when she sees you.

“That’s my best friend, Marcy. Next to her is Dr. Hubert. None of us need medical help, but he still likes to be called a doctor. It makes him in touch with his humanity.”

“Am I allowed to ask how they died?”

“Marcy’s story is even sadder than mine if you can believe it. I’ll let her tell you if she wants. Dr. Hubert drank himself to death. He wasn’t a bad doctor and was always sober when he was treating patients. He just had too much to drink one night and died.”

Pierre scatters across the bar counter with a tray on his head, passing out shots to people.

“Is that just a head?”

“Yeah, he was decapitated. We can’t find his body, but he’s happy like that. Come on, let me introduce you.” You take him over to the group and tap on Marcy’s shoulders. “Marcy, this is Spencer. He’s calmed down a bit.”

“Spencer! It’s so nice to meet you. You better make my girl happy.”

“Yeah,” Spencer chuckles, not knowing how to respond to that.

“Ah, he’s awake. Would you like a drink?” Pierre offers a shot.

“No, he doesn’t,” you quickly say and lean into Spencer. “You don’t want to drink this stuff.”

Spencer looks around the bar to see skeletons drinking. The liquid passes through them since they are all bones but they still enjoy it. There are others who are cut in half, so he can see the liquid slide down their bodies. Some are completely covered with flesh that looks like humans if not for the sickly grey skin. All these dead people but none of them look scary. In fact, everyone is having a good time just being in each other’s company.

If he’s being honest, this looks like a better time than most humans have up top.

“Come on, let’s sit.”

You take him over to a quiet spot in the corner where you can hear him if he talks. Spencer takes a seat and looks at the band on the stage. They’re all skeletons but they’re using their bodies as part of the instruments. One of them is using their legs as the base for a guitar, one is using a couple of heads as drums, and a bone trumpet. This is so weird but it seems to be working for them. Spencer has always thought there is some sort of life after you die, and this just so happens to be it.

“So, Spencer, tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why were you in that forest in the first place?”

Spencer thinks about the vows he’d been saying and his mind suddenly goes to Maeve who must be worrying crazy about him. He can’t possibly tell you about Maeve. He’s not sure how you’re going to react to that. He thinks of his parents and tries to think of a way to get out of this place.

“I needed some space to think, I guess.”

“By saying wedding vows?”

“My parents wanted me to marry young. I wanted to practice before I needed to use those vows.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you said them perfectly,” you smile.

“Thanks.”

“What are your parents like?”

“Overbearing at times. They come from money so they often forget what it’s like to live in a world where people don’t have money. Be thankful you don’t have to meet them.” A lightbulb goes off in Spencer’s head. This is how he’s going to get out of here. “You know what, you should meet them. After all, you are my wife.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea! Where are they buried?”

“Oh, um, they’re not… dead.”

“Oh, they’re still living? My, that does pose a challenge. One that isn’t impossible. I have an idea. Come with me.”

You take him to the one person who knows how to get to the land of the living. He’s been here the longest, one of the firsts. He’s known to many as the Caregiver because he takes care of anyone who seeks him out. His house is located on the other side of town in an old library. His love for books is unmatched by anyone who is here. People from all over come to see the kinds of books he has.

“Wow, I’ve never seen a library quite like this one before.”

The library is run down and has pieces of the building missing but Elder Henry finds it endearing.

“Elder Henry loves this place. Won’t part with it,” you whisper as you walk in. “Elder Henry? Are you around?”

“Whose there?” Elder Henry hobbles out from behind a stack of books and adjusts his glasses to see better. “Ah, Y/N. What a surprise. It’s so good to see you, my dear.”

“Likewise. I’d like you to meet my husband, Spencer.”

“What’s that? Husband?”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Spencer nods politely.

“What brings you two here?”

“We’d like to go to the surface. I know you have a spell for that.”

“Ah, the surface. I’ve never seen the appeal of the living even when I was among them.”

“Is it possible? Can you do it?” Spencer asks eagerly.

“Yes, I can. There are rules, you know. Rules you must follow or else you’ll be sent back here.”

“Which are?”

Elder Henry walks around his area and gathers the things needed for the spell. He never inserts himself in other people’s business so if you want to go to the surface, then he’ll help you get there. He doesn’t need to know why, he doesn’t need to know your intentions, and he doesn’t want to know.

“For one, if you wish to come back, you must say the secret word. Hopscotch.”

“That’s fun to say,” you grin. “Hopscotch!”

“Yes, but you must abide by their rules. After all, you’re a guest in their world. Whatever they say goes, so you must be careful who you talk to.”

“Don’t worry, we’re just going to meet his parents. I’m sure they’ll love me.”

“Are you both sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” Spencer says a bit too quickly. He clears his throat and says it more calmly this time. “I mean, yes. We do.”

“Alright then.” He takes out the ingredients and mixes them together to create a golden cloud. “Remember, to come back, you must say Hopscotch.”

Elder Henry dumps the cloud onto you and Spencer, and you’re immediately transported to the forest where he married you in the beginning. The moonlight is especially bright this time of night, and you enjoy the smell of fresh air. It’s been so long since you’ve been up here and the thought brings you to tears. You hum happily and start to elegantly dance in circles around Spencer.

“I’ve spent all my time in the darkness, I’ve forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is,” you grin.

He can’t believe he’s going to betray you. He’s wanted nothing more than to get out of that hellhole since arriving. He’s gotten to know you a bit better but not enough to want to love you. There is potential in you, for sure, and you’re such a sweet woman who wants nothing but love. You’re kind, intelligent, free, and you don’t let the bad things that have happened to you stop you from living your life.

How can he walk away knowing he’s not going to his parents?

“Okay, I’m going to go get them. You heard Elder Henry. It’s best if you minimize your contact with the living as much as possible. Just stay here and I’ll go get them.”

“Okay,” you nod and sit down on a tree stump.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, I’ll bring them.”

“I believe you,” you smile. “I’ll wait right here.”

Spencer walks away from you and when he’s far enough away, he looks back at you. You’re dancing and swaying in the moonlight, your dress flowing all around you. His heart is heavy with guilt but he turns back around and continues walking. Only until you’re out of sight does he sprint all the back into town.

He runs by a wall of fliers and stops short when he sees his face on one of them. It’s a missing poster sign with a reward of ten grand on it.

MISSING: SPENCER WALTER REID. IF SEEN, PLEASE CONTACT DIANA AND WILL REID. MISSING SINCE SEPTEMBER 29TH.

That’s more than a week ago. What the hell? Time must pass differently than it does in the Underworld. He passes by his parent’s house and heads straight to Maeve’s parent’s place. He doesn’t want to alert her parents of his arrival so he goes to the back of the house where her bedroom is. Her bedroom has a balcony where she can relax that has glass double doors that lead into the room.

He jumps over the fence and knocks on the window lightly. Meave is sitting on the couch by the fireplace knitting. She jumps at the sudden noise at her back door and turns to see who it is. Her eyes widen when she sees it’s Spencer.

“Spencer!” she gasps and sets her knitting down to approach him. She unlocks the back door and opens it to let him in. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you alright?”

“I can’t really explain,” Spencer stutters.

Maeve reaches out and touches his hand and pulls away with a gasp.

“You’re as cold as death. What happened to you?”

“Listen, I was very apprehensive last week about getting married to you. We just got into a relationship and I thought I wasn’t ready. I freaked out and left. I guess I needed time to wrap my head around sharing my life with someone. Then something clicked in my head. I want to marry you. I want to be your husband. I want this wedding to happen. I really really like you.”

“Oh, Spencer,” she smiles and caresses his cheek. “I really like you too. Maybe even love.” She leans in to kiss him but Spencer notices something moving outside on Maeve’s balcony. When he sees the white wedding dress, he gasps and staggers back. “Spencer? What’s wrong?”

Before Spencer can say anything, you open the door and allow a huge gust of wind to enter the room. Your veil flows over your head, and you cough as you move it out of your face. You look at Spencer and notice a young woman standing next to him.

“Darling, I just wanted to meet--Spencer, who is this?” you ask and slink up to his side.

“Who is she?” Maeve asks.

“I’m his wife,” you say and show off the ring he gave you. 

She gasps when she recognizes it as the one he was supposed to give her.

“Spencer?”

“No, Maeve. I’m not married to her. She’s dead.”

He grabs your skeleton arm to show her and your heart breaks at the thought of him going to another woman’s home after marrying you. You yank your arm from him and step away with a deadly look on your face.

“Hopscotch,” you growl.

Just as quickly as you came to the land of the living, you returned just the same. You appear in Elder Henry’s library where you departed from. You push Spencer away from you with hot tears running down your face.

“I can’t believe you! You lied to me! You didn’t want to visit your parents. You wanted to go to that other woman!”

“Don’t you understand? You’re the other woman.”

“No! You married me!” you cry and turn away from him.

“She’s got a point,” Elder Henry shrugs.

“I thought things were going really well,” you sniffle.

“Look, I’m sorry but this can’t work.”

“Why not?” you ask and turn to face him. “It’s my bones, isn’t it? You don’t want to see them.”

“No, it’s not that,” he sighs and runs his hands down his face. “Look, you’re an amazing woman. You’re kind and sweet and I hate what that man did to you. Under different circumstances, I’d honestly want to be with you, but we’re too different. You’re dead.”

“You should have thought of that before you asked me to marry you.”

“Why can’t you see that it was a mistake? I would never marry you.”

Silence falls in the library. If your heart could break, then they would hear it. You’ll never be someone’s bride. Always the bridesmaid. How could you expect someone as good-looking and amazing as Spencer would want you? He realizes what he said but he can’t take it back. Your shoulder sag and you sigh sadly. You turn away and walk away to be alone. Spencer opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

He lets you walk away.

You don’t know where you’re going just that you’re walking wherever your legs carry you. You find yourself at the park with a nice gazebo that is romantic most of the time. You take a seat under the middle of it and look at your wedding ring. He never wanted to marry you. This was a mistake. Who would want to marry you? Maybe you’re just damaged goods and too broken for anyone to love.

“Hey, are you okay? Where’s Spencer?” You look up to see Marcy walking over to you. It takes everything in you not to break down crying but you tell her the entire story. “I’m gonna beat his ass.”

“No, don’t. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we are too different. You should have seen her Marcy. She’s beautiful. Maybe he does belong with her. Little Miss Living,” you say in a sad, sarcastic tone. “With her rosy cheeks and beating heart.”

“Those girls got nothing on you. You’re so much better than them. Looks don’t matter. You’re such a kind and beautiful soul.” Her pep talk doesn’t seem to be working so she tries something else. “What does she have that you don’t? I don’t need to know what she looks like to know she doesn’t hold a candle to your beautiful smile.”

“How about a pulse?” you sigh.

“That’s overrated. Plus, she’s not wearing his ring. You are. She doesn’t compare to you.”

“She still breathes air.”

“Who cares? That shouldn’t matter when he knows the kind of person you are… how special you are.”

“I don’t want to be dead,” you whisper fearfully. “I never wanted to be dead. I wish I could be alive again. To feel the sun on my skin. To feel pain. Don’t get me wrong, I love everyone down here, but I can’t feel pain. Physical, that is. The pain I feel now… my heart hurts but it doesn’t beat, it’s breaking.”

Marcy puts a hand on your back and rubs it soothingly. She knows how long you’ve waited to find your Prince. You were a young girl in love just looking for someone to love you back. Is that too much to ask?

“What you just told me, it seems like the only redeeming feature about her is that she’s alive. You know that’s just temporary. Down here is forever. Down here is more than a lifetime.”

“I guess,” you sigh sadly.

“Y/N?” You and Marcy look up to see Spencer standing at the edge of the gazebo nervously. “Can I talk to you?”

“You’re about five seconds away from getting an ass-kicking,” Marcy growls and stands up.

“Marcy, it’s okay,” you calm her down. “I can handle this.”

“Just call if you need me.”

She walks off and Spencer takes her seat next to you.

“Listen, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“I get it, Spencer. She has what I don’t. A beating heart.”

“That doesn’t… Look, it’s no secret you’re amazing. Even dead, you’re very beautiful. I don’t know how that other guy let you go so easily. I don’t know why bad things happen to good people. Just know that whatever our differences are, it’s not because you’re dead.”

“Do you mean that?” you ask and look up at him.

“Yes, I do.”

Spencer tucks your hair behind your ear delicately. This is the first romantic moment you two have had in weeks but it’s everything you could have wanted and more. Spencer notices someone walking in the distance and recognizes it as someone he knows.

“Excuse me.”

He gets up and leaves you alone on the gazebo bench. You’re not sure who this person is or what he is talking about, but Spencer leaves abruptly with an upset look on his face. 

“Spencer?” you ask but he doesn’t look at you.

You get up to follow him but decide against it. He might need some time to himself, so you go searching for someone who might be able to help you. Marcy is in the bar where you first woke Spencer up, and she is playing a game of darts. When she sees you, she drops the darts and heads over to you.

“Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know.” You pull her off to the side so you can talk to her privately, an alley between the bar and the doctor’s office. “He apologized for what he said. We were having a moment but he saw someone he knew and went to talk to him. He walked off without another word. Are all men like this?”

“Sweetheart, be thankful you never had to deal with those kind of men. None of them are very bright.”

“Y/N, we need to talk.” You look to the right to see Elder Henry walking over with a book in his hand. “I’m afraid it can’t wait.”

“What’s going on?”

“There is a complication with your marriage. The vows are binding only until death do you part.”

“What are you saying?” you gasp fearfully.

“Death has already parted you.”

“No! If he finds out he’s gonna leave. There must be something you can do.”

Elder Henry puts the book on a trash can lid and flips a few pages.

“There is one way. It requires the greatest sacrifice. Spencer would have to give up the life he had forever. He would need to repeat his vows in the land of the living and drink from the wine of ages.”

“Poison!” you gasp.

“This would stop his heart forever. Only then would he be free to give it to you.”

Spencer is around the corner listening to the entire conversation. His eyes are wide in fear of what you’re going to say. He looks around the corner and sees you fall to your knees in sorrow.

“I could never ask him. What kind of person would I be if I took that away from him?”

Spencer really likes Maeve and could see a future with her, but he’s also torn with choosing you. All you wanted was for someone to love you unconditionally, and you will have that if he chooses you. He’s been spending all his time with you.

“You don’t have to,” Spencer says, making himself known. “I’ll do it.”

“My boy, if you choose this path, you may never return to the world above. Do you understand?”

Spencer holds his hand out for you and pulls you to your feet.

“I do.”

Looks like a wedding is happening. Everyone in the Underworld is excited that their own Corpse Bride is getting the moment she finally deserves. Spencer is kind of excited to be living down here after seeing so many people bond over being dead. Elder Henry works hard to create a spell that will transfer everyone down below to the world above. This will be the wedding of the century for both the living and the dead.

Because you’re going to the world above, you have to abide by their rules. The living weren't thrilled to have the dead roam the streets. In fact, they were mostly horrified to see skeletons walk down the street. Still, you and the others make your way down to the church for the ceremony. The pastor wasn’t too happy to have the dead knocking at his door, but you won’t allow him to spoil this evening.

Everyone settles into the pew as you and Spencer sand at the altar. Elder Henry walks behind the table and lays the book down with the bottle of poison. There is an empty cup next to Spencer while you have the whole bottle. Spencer has to admit that seeing your happy smile is bringing him joy.

This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for since you were murdered.

“Dearly beloved and departed,” Elder Henry begins, “we are gathered here today to join this man and this corpse in marriage. Living first.”

Spencer turns to you and raises his right hand.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” He grabs the empty cup and raises it. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

“Now you,” Elder Henry says to you.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” You grab the bottle of poison to pour into his cup. “Your cup will never empty.” You pour the poison into his cup. “For I will be--” As you’re pouring, you notice someone standing next to a pillar behind Spencer. You do a double-take to confirm it’s Maeve. She’s dressed in a wedding dress. She must have gotten married to someone else and didn’t want that, so she came here in hopes of seeing Spencer. “I will be…”

“Go on, my dear,” Elder Henry says.

You take a deep breath.

“Your cup will never empty… for I will be…”

“I will be your wine,” Spencer finishes for you.

He raises the cup of poison to his lips to drink, but you can’t let him do this. You quickly put your hand over the top so he doesn’t drink a drop.

“She’s having second thoughts,” someone whispers in the crowd.

“I can’t,” you say and look at Maeve again.

“What’s wrong?”

He goes to look at what you’re looking at but you put a hand on his cheek to stop him. Your heart hurts again but not for you. It’s for them. You had your chance. Now you’re taking someone else’s chance.

“This is wrong. I was a bride. My dreams were taken from me. Now I’ve stolen them from someone else.” Two tears roll down your cheeks. “I love you, Spencer, but you are not mine.”

You hold your hand out to Maeve who walks into the light. Spencer turns and gasps when he sees her. Everyone in the crowd gasps as she joins you on the altar. You grab her hand and place it in Spencer’s before letting go of him.

“Oh, how touching,” someone says from the church doors. Everyone turns their head to see who it is, and when you catch a glimpse, your face goes ghostly white. You take a step back in shock and put a hand on the table to prevent yourself from falling. “I always cry at weddings. Our young lovers together at last. Surely now, they can live happily ever after.” The man walks down the aisle closer to the altar. “But you forget,” he grabs Maeve’s arm and pulls her into him, “she’s still my wife! I will not leave here empty-handed!”

“You,” you gulp.

The man looks at you and his eyes widen.

“Y/N? No, I left you.”

“For dead,” you say quietly.

Everyone in the church gasps loudly at the realization that the man who stands before you is your murderer. He backs away with Maeve in his arms just as everyone stands in anger for what he did to you. There is a corpse with a sword hanging out of his body that Justin grabs. He places the sharp end over Maeve’s throat with a glare.

“Take your hands off her,” Spencer glares and walks toward them.

“Do I have to kill you, too?”

Justin shoves Maeve away and goes to swipe at Spencer but he jumps out of the way. Spencer is not equipped for hand-to-hand combat so he’s easily outdone by Justin, but you’re not going to let Justin take away something else from you. Spencer trips and falls, making him an easy target. Justin raises the sword to bring it down on him but you quickly step in the way so that the sword ends up in you.

Everyone gasps in shock and backs away but the sword does nothing to you. You grip the handle of the sword and take it out of you before pointing it at Justin.

“Touche, my dear,” Justin says.

“Get out,” you give him a deadly glare.

“Oh, I’m leaving,” he chuckles darkly and walks around you to the table with the cup of poison. Although, he doesn't know it’s poison. He grabs it and holds it in the air. “First, a toast to Y/N! Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Tell me, my dear, can a heart still break once it’s stopped beating?”

You want to cry. You want to scream and yell and kick but you’re not back home. All your friends get up to defend your honor but Elder Henry holds them back.

“We are in the land of the living. We have to abide by their rules.”

Justin raises the cup and drinks the entire glass. He walks away with his head held high but before he can get to the door, he chokes on nothing. He grabs his heart and staggers, and Elder Henry steps aside knowing that Justin is no longer part of the living.

“Not anymore,” Marcy smirks.

“She’s right. He’s all yours.”

All of your friends gather around the man who killed you to give him a taste of his own medicine. You turn to Spencer and Maeve who are overwhelmed by what happened.

“Spencer, I never thought I’d see you again,” Maeve smiles up at him.

You smile tearfully at the happy couple and turn to leave. You reach the doors to the church when Spencer stops you.

“Wait, I made a promise.”

“You kept your promise. You set me free.” You take off your wedding ring and place it in his open hand. “Now I can do the same for you.”

You turn and walk down the steps of the church only looking back once at Spencer. A white light encases your body as your soul is released to be whatever it wants to be. After years of being in pain, you’re finally able to take a deep breath in without it hurting.

x

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[willsimpforanyone]

hey !! i absolutely adore your account. your writing is just amazing!!! i was wondering if you could do more leo valdez smuts!?

ahhhh thank you so much i'm glad you like my writing!!

this will have obligatory spanish pet names in it because i am cringe and proud k thanks also it's a flower shop/tattoo shop au because that's the best trope i don't make the rules

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There was a tap on my shop door.

"Knock knock, chica, where you at?"

I rolled my eyes but grinned. "In the back," I yelled back. "Gimme a sec."

The door opened and closed, the little bell dinging, and I stripped off my black gloves. "Okay, all done! How'd you like it?"

Nico nodded approvingly at his new tarot card tattoo - Death, of course. "Looks awesome, how much do I owe you?"

"£180, because you're my favourite." I winked at him as I led him out the room.

He shook his head. "You know that's not the right price." Nico took out an envelope of cash and slid it across the counter. "£200, plus tip, don't even think about it."

He caught me before I could protest, and made to leave. "Hey Valdez."

From the sofa, Leo grinned up at him. "Hey dude, whatcha get?"

Nico pulled up his shirt sleeve to show off his new tattoo. Leo nodded approvingly. "Looks sick, Will's gonna love it." Nico coloured slightly but gave a small smile, nodded and left.

I leaned forward on the counter. "So, Valdez, what brings you to my dark corner of the world?"

He brandished the small collection of blooms he held. "Thought I'd bring it a little bit of colour." Beelining to where I had a wilting bunch of flowers in a vase, Leo swapped them out. I leant on my hand and smiled- he was right, the studio could use a little colour now and then.

"Is today the day I get to ink you?" I tapped my fingers on the wooden surface, fingers buzzing slightly from the tattoo gun.

Leo grinned. "Oh, you wish you could make your mark on this." He gestured down to himself, and I allowed myself to rake my eyes over him. His loose grey shirt was faintly patterned with roses, and his jeans clung to his legs appealingly.

"You have no idea, honey." I winked at him and got the pleasure of seeing his tan skin tinge with red.

He coughed lightly. "I don't think I'd suit tattoos, anyway." He shrugged. "Probably not, anyway."

I slipped out from behind the counter to face him. "Oh, I don't know, I wouldn't say that." I considered him carefully, as an art piece rather than a person. "Tattoos are for everyone, as long as they get something they love."

Leo shifted slightly and I reached out for his arm. He let me take it. "See, I'd do a flowering vine-" I ran my fingers down his left forearm. "-along here, delicate but thick enough not to get lost in your skin."

"Oh yeah?"

I nodded, reaching up to his shoulder. "Perhaps your favourite flower, or a flower of significance, resting on your shoulder." Carefully, carefully coming to rest a finger on his chest. "A little something here, anything you'd like, just for you."

Leo had frozen, deep brown eyes fixed on my face. I took a step back, not missing where Leo swayed towards me just slightly.

"Of course, it's up to you." Just for the hell of it, I decided to push my luck. "I have a few other ideas of how I could mark you, should you be interested."

I heard him let out a shaky breath and push dark curls behind his ears. Silently, I prayed that I didn't push it too far and scare him off. The crush I'd been harbouring for the past two months squeezed my heart.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, god I hope I'm not wrong, but we're very much not talking about tattoos anymore, are we?"

I turned round to see Leo with his hands clenched by his side and his lip being worried between his teeth. Slowly, I shook my head.

"No, not tattoos. Or rather, the kind that would fade in a couple days and are made with my mouth against your neck."

"Oh thank fuck." Leo relaxed and reached out, pulling me close and pressing his lips to mine.

Instantly my arms were wrapped around his neck and I was grinning like an idiot. For a brief moment I wondered if I had any more clients today but a quick glance at the clock told me it was past 6pm, closing time. Regretfully I pulled away from Leo and he pouted.

"What's wrong?"

I disentangled myself from his arms, racing to the door to lock it and turn the 'open' sign to 'closed' before returning to pull Leo's face down to mine. "Absolutely nothing, hermoso, nothing at all."

Leo let out a throaty groan and looped his fingers in my belt loops to pull me closer. "Woman, you are driving me insane." He kissed me hard, hips pressing againt mine and I felt heat flame in my stomach, looping and curling.

"Hey-" In between kisses, I tried to talk. "-I live-" Kiss. "-literally right upstairs-" Kiss. "-if you want to-" Kiss. "-take this further."

Leo pulled back this time, massive grin on his flushed face, already looking a mess. "Oh hell yeah, lead the way."

It took only moments to take his hand and lead him through my studio, up the stairs and into the flat I owned above my shop. I shut the door behind us and pinned Leo to it, fingers twisting and gently tugging at his hair. He whined and slipped his hands under my shirt, smoothing them along my stomach. "Do I get to see your tattoos?" He panted, eyes dark with want.

"Maybe, if you ask nicely." I winked at him. "But I believe I was going to give you a few."

"As many as you want, mi amor, whatever you want." Oh, this was going to be fun.

I pulled him away from the door and practically dragged him to my bedroom. I pointed to the pillows. "Sit."

He did it without question and I got a thrill of satisfaction. I crawled over to him, throwing a thigh over his lap and settling into his lap. Serious time for a moment. "If you want to stop at any point, let me know, okay?"

Leo nodded. "Same goes for you."

Cute. I pressed my lips to his gently, softly, a small thank you for being receptive. I shifted myself forward a little, until my hips were almost against his. My lips ghosted over his lips one last time before I swept along his jawline. I felt his hands hovering over my waist, my hips, my thighs, before I took his wrists and settled him on the tops of my thighs. "I'm not fragile, baby."

"Oh, I'm sure you're not, but if we keep going like this, I might be."

I rested my hands on his chest. "I'll try not to break you." Leaning in closer, I kissed just below his ear. "At least, not this time."

He whimpered, fingers digging into my flesh beneath my jeans.

I dragged my mouth along the planes of his neck, skin warm and heartbeat pounding beneath it. Finding his pulse point, I gave it a gentle suck, feeling Leo inhale sharply. "Good?"

He let out a shuddery breath. "Very good."

That was all the encouragement I needed. I nipped hard up and down his neck, leaving a trail of blossoming red in my wake. I bit purple roses and violets, tattooing the little moans and gasps from him into his skin. His collarbone was decorated with faint teeth marks, each one marked with the memory of a twist of his hips.

I pulled back briefly to tug at his button-down and he nodded emphatically, practically ripping it off so I could continue to kiss and bite and suck at his overheated skin.

"Hey," he breathed, tapping my thigh. "I made a questioning noise, still buried in his neck. "Hey, if you don't stop we're gonna have a problem that can only be solved with doing laundry and I don't think you have jeans my size."

"So what? I think that's sexy as fuck." I continued to work on the large brand I was sucking into his skin.

"My point still stands." He ran his hand up my back and into my hair, gently tugging to pull me away. I let a moan slip before I could catch it and Leo raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up," I poked at a hickey and he hissed. "You look like you got too enthusiastic with watercolour paints."

He rolled his eyes and before I could register the action, he flipped us round so he was hovering above me, elbows supporting him. "You've had your fun, reducing me to a whimpery mess, now it's my turn."

I bit my lip at the look in his eyes, suddenly feeling that I was wearing far too many clothes.

Waiting for any indication that he should stop, Leo dragged my shirt over my head as best he could, leaving me in a bra and my jeans. He caught his breath as he saw my tattoos. I was covered in them, an art gallery of my favourite things done by some of my favourite people. Reverently, he traced a finger over the lines and I shivered, goosebumps mottling my skin.

"Holy shit, you're gorgeous."

I gave a breathy laugh. "What, only just noticed?"

Leo shook his head, deadly serious. "No, you're always gorgeous, this is just... a new part of the gorgeous that I've never seen before."

My cheeks felt hot and I wriggled under him at the compliments. "You gonna do something about it, or?"

His eyes flicked up to mine. "What, you don't think I'd fuck you into next week if I had the chance?"

I didn't have a chance to formulate a retort. He deftly undid the fastening on my jeans and dipped his hand into them. I arched my back at the contact and Leo swore. "God, you're soaked, hermosa, glad to see I'm not the only one on the edge."

My hand made weak contact with his arm and he laughed. "Very much not a bad thing, very much a 'sexy as fuck' thing."

"Just fuckin' touch me, Valdez."

"As you wish."

He slipped a finger inside my pussy, and my eyes rolled back. Marking him up may have affected me more than I let on. "M-more, Leo, I need more."

Obediently, he added another finger, and another, curling all three so deliciously inside me. My hands were clutching at his shoulders, at the pillows, the bedspread, I was sure I looked a mess but Leo looked at me like I'd hung the stars in the damn sky.

"So fucking pretty, so beautiful, I'm gonna take you out on a proper date tomorrow, I swear." He muttered promises and affections and it was all I could do to not come right there, impaled on his fingers and whining desperately.

When his hand pulled away I nearly sobbed before he was kissing my face, murmuring reassurances. "I know, I know, but I gotta get your jeans and panties off, okay? You want me to fuck you, right?"

That gave me a little clarity, and I allowed him to tug off the rough demin both from me and from him. I threw myself to the side, rummaging around in my bedside table before triumphantly producing a foil packet.

Leo accepted the gift and I got to see him slip on the condom and bite his lip to not come from the contact.

"Leo." He looked up at me, curls a mess, lips slightly swollen.

"Fuck me into next week."

He pounced on me, hands grasping at my hips to pull me flush against him. The pads of his fingers tightened and I allowed myself a moment to imagine the bruises they would leave after this.

He guided his cock in between my thighs, pausing right at the entrance. "You all good?"

I smiled. "So very good."

He pushed into me with one swift motion and I cried out, feeling so full and so good. Leo pounded into me, looking as desperate as I felt. He buried his face into my neck. "Okay, super lame but I am not gonna last long."

"Super not lame." My voice sounded wrecked. "Super fucking hot that I got you that worked up. You are super welcome to come whenever you want."

I felt him smile against my skin. "You first."

His hand reached down in a feat of strength with how hard he was thrusting into me, and he began pushing circles into my clit. My head tilted back and Leo pressed sharp kisses into the exposed flesh.

The sensations were too much and would never ever be enough and I tilted my hips just right so he was hitting just right inside me and the thin line keeping me tethered snapped.

My nails dug into his shoulders and I came hard, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure and excitement and with just enough clarity I felt Leo's hips stutter as my pussy clamped down on his dick as I came. His swearing was muffled into my skin but he pushed into me as much as he could, coming with almost a shout.

There was a moment of quiet, the two of us remembering how to breathe and enjoying the feeling of being connected. It was with simultaneous groans that Leo pulled out of me, flopping to my side and pressing absent kisses to my shoulder.

"Well," he breathed. "How do my new tattoos looks?"

I ran my fingers over my masterpiece. "I'd say they look pretty good, if I do say so myself."

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yes i did get carried away lol hope you enjoyed and thank you for requesting!