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#I’m so happy to be here and can’t wait to keep cooking this!
jojo-schmo · 1 month
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It’s the second anniversary of the Forgotten Land Roleswap 💖
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Whether you saw this AU in its beginnings or just found it today, thank you so much for reading, commenting, liking, and everything in between! Spending time making this comic has its challenges but it’s also brought me so much happiness. We are only just beginning and I can’t wait to continue.
This isn’t the drawing that I wanted to celebrate with, but it’s the one I was able to partially finish in time! I’d love to polish and complete this later down the line. Hopefully one day, my day job can let up and I can devote more time to writing and drawing this story that has brought me so much joy.
To everyone reading this, thank you again for everything. I hope the adventures of the King, his Knight, and this mysterious pup can take you on a wonderful journey!!
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, kidnapped reader, bondage, somnophilia, oral, light ass-play
fem reader
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It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m thinking about the incel who’s never celebrated with anyone…
Only… now that he has you locked up in his house all to himself, He’s going to have you treat him to all those Valentine's cliches he’s missed out on – all inside the comforts of your new home, of course.
It’s early morning, and he’s got his cock inside you before you’ve even woken up. His thrusts are sleepy, and his voice is drowsy as he says he looks forward to breakfast – that he hasn’t had anyone cook him breakfast in bed since his mom on his tenth birthday. He likes his eggs sunny-side up, his bacon crispy, his toast golden, and his coffee just a little sweet for the occasion, plus a small glass of juice on the side.
After cumming inside you, he tells you not to take too long – that he wants you back in bed, hand-feeding him before the bed gets cold.
When you get back from the kitchen, he’s picked out a romance to watch – patting your place on the bed with a big grin on his face.
The trouble in your chest is a little eased to see him happy. Though it’s sick doing these types of things with your kidnapper – you much prefer acting like his girlfriend than getting your tits, clit, and ass flogged with a leather belt. 
So you curl up beside him like he gestured and hand-fed him like he’d said and laughed and awed at the movie playing out before you as if you were really enjoying yourself. And when he whispers that he’s made you breakfast as well while lifting the tray off his lap to reveal his hard-on, you hold back the wince and crawl under the covers – not a single slight leaving your lips as you wrap them around him and start sucking him off.
He hadn’t bothered wiping it with a tissue after this morning’s first, and so flakes of dried cum and soured bitterness coat your mouth in overwhelming filth, making tears well up and go dripping pitifully down your cheeks – holding back from gagging as you keep bobbing your head all pliantly while using your tongue to lave over his veins.
He sighs in bliss above the duvet, weaving both hands into your hair as he nudges his tip down further into your plush throat, so warm and wet and tight around him, milking him for the meal in his balls. 
He shoots in right down to your belly when your lips kiss his base, petting your cheek while waiting for you to swallow around him. It takes everything in you not to choke on it and puke – but you’ve done it enough times now to resurface only breathless as you lay yourself to rest against his chest.
He says he’s got you a gift after having let you rest up for a little while – and drags a gift bag from under the bed. You receive it, forcing a shy smile – knowing not to expect a plushie and a heart-shaped box of chocolates but hoping for it nonetheless.
“I thought, since we can’t go outside, we’ll just have to make the most out of it in here...”
The contents of the bag make you swallow thickly – wide-eyed and goose-fleshed with trepidation. 
It’s all red – but that must have been the only thing Valentine’s about it…
Red silk blindfold, red ball gag, red rope, red fluffy cuffs, and a butt plug decorated with a heart-shaped ruby.
“And as for your gift to me,” He breaks your stillness, taking your face in both hands as he lifts it to level his – giving your pout a kiss that breaks with a wet smack. “All your holes all day long is all I want.”
You’re a picture. Bite marks on your breasts, a ring of teeth around your sore nipples – also on the inside of your thighs – along with full handprints welting the soft flesh. On your back with your hands beneath you, kept there in their cuffs – legs raised and spread, tied up in the red rope – mouth sucking on your ball, all muffled whining as you wiggle – blindfold soaked a deep burgundy from the tears streaming down your face. 
Your poor ass spread on the plug he’s eased inside, all cutely swallowed around the heart-shaped ruby glistening in the slick seeping from your pussy as he fucks you hard and fast and unrelentingly with a hand held tightly around your throat – moaning Happy Valentin’s Day!
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BNHA – Shigaraki, Denki, Deku
JJK – Mahito
HQ – Tendou
CSM – Denji, Yoshida
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heartpascal · 1 year
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the crooked kind
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▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader
▹ — summary: you were sarah’s best friend, and you reunite with joel years after outbreak day.
▹ — a/n: erm. i love him. again not my best writing but i love this concept sm. also yes now i know there is an audience for father figure joel u will be getting so much of him
▹ — warnings: reader had major family troubles, pre-outbreak & post-outbreak, father figure joel, reader is injured, stab wound, referenced raiders/hunters, bill being hostile as usual, frank being a sweetie
masterlist
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
25th September, 2003.
After a long shower at the Miller’s house, you got changed and went downstairs to face them, the same anxiety you always felt when this happened arose in your chest. They were in the kitchen waiting for you, matching frowns on both Sarah and her dad’s face. You smiled tightly at them, grabbing the box of food Sarah held out for you.
“Guys, it’s fine! I can’t stay here forever.” You told them lightly, trying to lift the heavy mood that always fell over the three of you when you had to go back to your own house.
“You could! Couldn’t she, dad?” Sarah asked, turning to her dad and knowing the answer before he even said it.
“‘Course you could, kid. You know you’re a part of the family.” Joel supplied, making it even harder to maintain the certain and confident front you always put on when it was time to leave.
You heard the tires of the truck pulling up outside their house, and the truck door slamming shut as Tommy stepped out, his frown matching Sarah and Joel’s, too. He grabbed the box of food from your hand and put it in the bag on your back, clapping a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezing as you smiled at him.
“Time to go,” you said, and rolled your eyes with a watery smile as you looked at the sulking expression Sarah wore, “C’mon, Sar. I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”
Nobody responded to your words, and their silence clearly conveyed their thoughts, but what about tonight? You were all aware of how much your family disliked when you stayed at the Miller’s but sometimes, you’d rather face their anger when you returned than any extra time at your own house. Aside from the people who lived there, you also never knew if there would be any water, which is why you always took a shower before leaving the Miller’s. You’d likely be back by this time next week, but it never made leaving easier.
You had once tried to stay at your best friend’s for longer, going on a few weeks, but when you had returned to your house to grab some more clothes, your parents had kicked off. Shouting, screaming, throwing things, the likes. They had yelled in your face that they would call the police on Joel, say he had kidnapped you, was keeping you away from home.
The last thing you wanted was the man who was essentially your own dad going to jail because of you.
It’s better this way, you had decided, because there was no other way. You were lucky your parents let you out of the house at all at this point. Every time you took a bundle of clothes stuffed into the bottom of your school bag you were chancing your luck, but you just couldn’t help it. Staying at Sarah’s gave you the experience of a loving family that you so badly wanted. A warm house, cooked food, and working water didn’t hurt, either.
“Let’s go, kid.” Tommy said, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want you to go back, either, but neither Miller men were willing to let you walk there. Tommy took you home every time, all of you knowing that Joel was much more likely to snap if your parents showed their faces.
“See you guys later! Happy birthday for tomorrow, Joel!” You waved at Sarah and Joel as you headed out of the front door, throwing a wave behind you and hearing them call out their own goodbyes.
You and Tommy sat in silence for the first few minutes of the drive, before he glanced in your direction, saying, “Listen, if you need anything, give us a call. I’m gonna be out tomorrow but Joel will be about. But hey, you need a bit of extra muscle? I’ll be there.”
You smiled at him, thankful to have such a supportive family who had your back at every turn.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Joel sighed as he gripped the steering wheel in his hand, waiting for his brother to finish up the paperwork he had to sign. When Tommy finally approached the truck, Joel turned to him with a dark look, annoyance clear in the curve of his eyebrows.
“Listen, Joel, I’m sorry!” Tommy told him immediately, reluctantly pulling his seatbelt over his chest and holding his hands up as if he was surrendering. “That fucker said her name and I just snapped, man.”
Tommy must have seen the way Joel’s face dropped, because he felt anxiety warm up in his chest as Joel said your name, his expression telling them both that something was very wrong. He remembered the crease to Sarah’s eyebrows when he had finally gotten home, the way she’d told him that you hadn’t been in school, and she felt like something was off.
“She wasn’t at school today.” said Joel, his eyes almost unfocused as all the possibilities for the why flashed in his mind, he completely missed the way Tommy’s jaw set.
The sound of guns going off in the police station sent both of their heads whirling around in alarm, with Tommy reaching back for the box that was kept under the driver’s seat. “What the…” he mumbled, eyes flashing with the fire that had started across the road. It was when they started hearing the helicopters and dozens of military and coppers swarming the street that the two Miller’s realised something was very wrong. “Shit, Sarah!”
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
23rd May, 2013.
Your arm was throbbing with pain, and you were sure something was fractured at the least. Not to mention the warm red blood that was dripping down from your shoulder, basically the only thing providing you with any heat in the all-encompassing cold. Or maybe all the blood leaving you was what was making you feel so cold. You weren’t sure.
It was the first time in a while that you had left your QZ, and you were ambitious, aiming to travel all the way to the Boston QZ with as little trouble as you could manage. Of course, you hadn’t counted on the people, the raiders and hunters who tried to kill you to steal all the supplies you didn’t have. You were lucky to make it out alive, really. You hadn’t felt very lucky for a long time.
It had been at least thirteen hours since you were attacked, and you knew you wouldn’t make it much further. Already, you were feeling lightheaded, woozy, like the ground was reaching up for you, but you powered on, seeing the glint of a metal fence up ahead.
The wiring at the top told you that it was electric, which you wouldn’t have been worried about if the buzzing didn’t echo in your ears, meaning it actually had electricity.
You pushed lightly against where there was a gate, a keypad there to unlock it. These days, you wouldn’t be able to bet on it being a simple 1, 2, 3, 4. Clearly, this was somebody’s home, and they didn’t take lightly to intruders. Your head dropped against the metal, the metal warm from the sun, and you were glad that only the barbed wire at the top was electric.
Your luck clearly hadn't lasted very long, as you heard the sounds of two guns clicking, the safety turning off.
“Who are you?” A man’s gruff voice asked, and you moved your head from the fence to look at the man stood at the front, “What do you want?” His striking blue eyes tore through you, looking for any sign of a threat, but you didn’t pose much of one in your current state.
“Jesus, Bill, let the girl in, she’s gonna die out there!” A friendlier voice called out, approaching the two men already stood in front of you.
“Or, she could kill us in here.” Bill said, eyes not moving from where you stood, narrowing as you put your hands up in a motion of surrendering.
Your eyes fluttered for a second, and you nodded at the man, understanding of his caution. “I—I’m just looking to get to the QZ. Boston.” You spoke, voice dry and cracking, having only been used when you had yelled out at the people who had attacked you, and that was hours ago. You were dehydrated, tired, and hurt. “Could you point me in the direction?”
“She’s not gonna make it that far.” A woman, who you hadn't noticed approaching, said, eyebrows raised as she looked from the other newcomer to Bill. A part of you knew she was right, knew that you probably wouldn’t make it another fifty steps of the way, but god, you’d come this far, and you really didn’t want to die.
“Bill.” The man prompted, eyebrows raised as he gestured toward the gate. “Just let her in, you can always… shoot her if she tries anything.”
“And I will.” Bill threatened, glaring at you even as you nodded in agreement.
“I’m not infected,” You supplied, because it was the best you could do, “Got a nasty stab wound, little while ago.”
Bill grumbled, sending the man who was trying to help you back into the town for something, and he continued his annoyed mumbling even as he opened the gate, tapping in a code and holding his gun up to your head as you took a step forward. You stilled, eyes following him as he approached, gun still raised, and held a tester to your neck, only huffing as it flashed green.
“Come on in, honey.” The kind man said, approaching your side and helping you stumble your way into their safe haven. You swayed, even with his help, and he frowned at you.
“You sure about this, Bill?” asked the other man, who hadnt spoken before now. You hadn’t really taken much notice of him, too focused on the people speaking to you in hopes that the world might show you a bit of kindness.
“Joel?” You croaked out, eyes going wide and your legs becoming numb as you stared at the man in shock. The guns immediately rose back up to your face, and they glared at you suspiciously, with the man who had been helping you stepping aside with one look from Bill, even if it was with some reluctance. “Joel— It’s you, I can’t believe it’s really you.”
They all stared at you, none of them daring to speak for a few moments. The woman stared at Joel, trying to communicate with him through eye contact alone.
“She—she fixed it. Didn’t she?” You said numbly, feeling like you were going to pass out, but unable to take your eyes off of the cracked watch that sat on his wrist. Sarah had told you her plan for his birthday, even if you’d never gotten to see it in action, but it was broken again.
Recognition seemed to seep into Joel’s eyes, and his gun lowered slightly. He said your name like a question, like your face was an answer he couldn’t work out.
In a single moment, his gun was dropped to his side, and he surged forward, pulling you into his arms. You held onto him just as tightly, or as tightly as you could manage with your fucked up arm, and blinked away tears as you squeezed your hands together behind his back.
His hand held the back of your head, keeping you close to him as he let out a breath. “Fuck.” He said, the words watery with tears you were sure he refused to let out. “I was sure you were dead. The houses on your street were on fire, I—…” He trailed off, pulling away to hold your face in his rough hands.
You forgot all your pain for a moment, eyes full of tears from something else, something like relief, “I got away, my—my dad was arrested and my mom went to get him. When I got to yours, you were all gone.”
He swallowed guiltily, eyes looking over your grown face. You looked so different, so… you looked like an adult.
You looked around at the town, wondering which one belonged to the Miller’s, “Where— where’s Sarah?”
Joel flinched, hands squeezing your cheeks once more, before he shook his head, looking away before he pulled you back to him once again.
“Oh.” You gulped, swallowing down the grief you had already felt for the Miller’s that rose back up, trying to sweep you away.
“Can somebody explain what the fuck is going on?” The woman asked, the first of Joel’s group to speak up since your unexpected reunion. She looked between you and Joel and the two men, as if one of you could answer all of her questions.
You looked up at Joel, and he felt like he was going to be sick, the memories of you doing that before the world had gone to shit hitting him like a brick to the face. He remembered the way you would smile at him, a grin that matched Sarah’s, like the two of you were born as sisters, and not just chosen sisters.
“I…” You began, stepping out of Joel’s arms to face the group and explain, but that wave of nausea hit you, the adrenaline from finding Joel seeping from your body, leaving you feeling like you were about to step into death’s doorway. “Okay, um, let me—”
Joel stepped forward, and you fell into him, with him picking you up like he used to do with you and Sarah before. It hit him then, with how you were heavier, and how he hadn’t done this for anyone in years, but he still managed.
“I—I’ll explain, after.” He said, the words echoing in your ears as your eyes fluttered, the last of your long-winded fight or flight leaving you as you rested in your dad’s arms, feeling like perhaps you’d wake up in the bed beside Sarah’s, and everything that had happened in the past decade would have been nothing but a dream. “Frank?” He prompted, letting the man lead him to wherever he thought would be best suitable to patch you up.
That sickening feeling crept up on Joel again, the situation being horribly reminiscent of outbreak day, almost like your weight was Sarah’s own, and his shaking fingers being from fear and not shock. He hated it, that the feeling of regaining a daughter was so similar to the loss of his other.
He felt a hand on his shoulder as he followed Frank, and glanced to his side to see Tess, and allowed himself to feel the slightest comfort at the nod she gave him.
Your eyes blinked open, and you looked at him through bleary eyes, “I’ve missed you, dad.” You told him, not missing the heartache in his eyes as he looked at you, but he smiled. It was thin, watery, and barely there, but you saw it.
“Kid, you got no idea.” He sighed out, focusing on getting you fixed up before he could start crying.
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repulsiveliquidation · 2 months
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Guardian of My Heart || Leah Williamson
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based on this request here! it's not that long but i loved writing this so much so i hope y'all like it!
warnings : angst with happy ending. mentions of injury.
“And that’s the final whistle folks, Chelsea takes this game with a comfortable 3-1 win over the Gunners here at Stamford Bridge.”
Leah’s eyes fill with tears at the final whistle. Her heart shatters audibly in her chest. A game they needed to win to have a chance at the title, thrown away by silly mistakes and sloppy football. She walks around the pitch in shame, apologizing to all the Gooners in the stands who came only to see them fail.
“I’m sorry,” she says to the crowd, tears falling down her face. The rest of the girls do the same, making their way to the stands to thank fans and sign jerseys. The home side erupts in a painful cry of victory, one that makes Leah’s chest almost cave in on itself.
The changing room is silent except for the sound of bags being packed and the muted drumming of water on the floor from the showers. One by one the girls make their way to the bus, offending socks from the wardrobe mishap filling the trash bin in the locker room.
Leah sulks when she hears the girls all planning to see their partners at home and just forget today’s game. She just jammed her AirPods into her ears and played her country music loudly, hoping the gaping hole of loneliness in her chest would go away with the serenading words of Luke Combs.
She knew her house would be lonely. She knew her house would be quiet. She knew her house would be dark. There was no one waiting. The person she wanted most would not be there. There was only one person to blame for that.
“Leah, you can’t keep doing this to me!” you yelled, rounding the coffee table as Leah stumbled into the house at twenty past three on a Saturday. You came over at eight thinking Leah would be home since she promised to help you cook dinner and enjoy the Bachelor finale on TV together. Instead, you walked into her apartment with your spare key to an empty house and her bedroom a mess. Her makeup was all over the bathroom and she had clearly changed her shoes at least three times.
You waited and waited for her to get home, calling the Arsenal girls to figure out where she had gone. They felt sorry for you and tried to get Leah to go home to you but she said something that the moment it left her lips, your heart broke into pieces.
“You’re such a fucking needy bitch, get off my back for once!”
You don’t know why you still sat in her living room for three more hours and waited for her to get home. You knew you needed to know she was home safe. That she was okay. That she didn’t choke on her own vomit from drinking too much. Because despite being her second choice for a while now, you still loved the England skipper. You still love Leah Williamson.
Leah drove home in pin-drop silence. Her kit bag was thrown in the back to be dealt with later, her arm on the door holding her head up as the streets of London were a blur. She parked in her spot and walked out like a zombie, not noticing your car in her driveway and her porch light on.
The key turned easily and she walked into her house to the turntable on low and the smell of smileys and a roast coming from the kitchen. She looked down and saw a pair of shoes that she recognized and a voice that was singing along to the music that she had fallen asleep to a million times.
“Y/N?” Leah spoke aloud, toeing her shoes off and dropping her kit bag. She shuffled into the kitchen and saw you standing there at the stove, stirring in the roasting tray and making a gravy. There were two plates on the island she instantly knew which one was hers. You turn and give her a soft smile, pushing your chin out to gesture her to sit. She does and grabs the bottle of wine you’ve set out and pours the two glasses full of Cabernet.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing a smiley off the plate she knew was hers and nibbling on the cheek.
“I wanted to make sure you had something to eat,” you answer curtly as you put the whisk down and grab a gravy boat, smiling to yourself when you still remember where it was.
“Y/N,” Leah says sternly, putting her half-eaten smiley down.
You turn and put the gravy boat next to the roast, finally looking at your ex-girlfriend.
“I needed to know that you were okay, after today.”
“Why?” Leah asks, voice carrying a lilt of guilt with fresh tears filling her eyes.
You walked around the island and turned the skipper in her seat to face you. You held her face in your hands, wiping the tears that fell. You had been in this situation before when Leah tore her ACL.
“You’re going to be okay, Leah.”
“What if I never play like I used to ever again?”
“You don’t ever need to worry about that because you will. The Leah Williamson I know never gives up.”
She chuckles but more fear settles in her heart. Leah looks up at you at the very island she’s sitting at right now.
“I’m scared,” she admits sheepishly, looking defeated and terrified. You cup her face and wipe the tear stains off her face.
“You will get through this Leah and I will be there every step of the way.”
“You won’t leave? They always leave.”
“I would never. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispers back to you before you kiss her, her mind willing itself to get better. If not for her, for you.
Zach Bryan’s voice fills the room softly, the lyrics of ‘Tourniquet’ “take care of the blood that your love runs through” remind you of why you packed up a roast and stopped at the shops for a bag of frozen smileys. It reminds you of all the nights you massaged her leg when it was feeling tight. It reminds you of all the nights when you sat beside her and held her close while she cried at another delay in her recovery. It reminds you of all the nights you spent awake with her when she couldn’t sleep because of the pain.
Was it worth it? Yes.
Would you do it all over again? Yes.
Leah breaks down when her eyes meet yours. The smell of your perfume and your musk flood her senses with all the reasons why she was in love with you all those years. Deep down inside she knew she still felt that way and hoped that you did too.
Leah cries. The pain of losing, hurting her hamstring just as she’s called to the England squad for the first time since her ACL, and the overwhelming sense of disappointment burst the moment you held her in your arms again. It was home and it was safe. Leah clung onto your hoodie and made a right mess on the front but you didn’t care. Leah needed you and you wished you could take away her pain.
“I just wasn’t me out there today and that cost us the game,” Leah muttered after calming herself down and her hiccups stopped.
“Today wasn’t just your fault, honey,” you cooed, taking the hair tie out of Leah’s hair and combing your fingers through her blonde locks. She rested her head against your stomach and closed her eyes, zeroing in on your touch.
“I let the team down,” she countered, pulling you closer to her.
“It just wasn’t anyone’s day today, my love,” you cupped her face and wiped more of the tears that were about to fall from her eyes. You leaned in a little and were a bit unsure, but feeling her nudge herself towards you gave you the approval you sought.  
Her lips felt familiar against yours.
Salty.
Warm.
Recognizable.
Home.
She chased your lips and melted into them, gripping your wet hoodie like her life depended on it or that you would vanish if she let go, even for a second.
“I’m sorry I treated you the way I did, you don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve someone willing to love you for you, Leah,” you reassure her and seal it with a kiss, walking away from her to chuck the roast back in the oven to warm up for a bit and her smileys into the air fryer for a little reheating.
Zach’s voice fills the blanks when you look at her blue eyes, her features blow you away every time you look at her. You bled your whole soul into things you can't control; in a world you'll never satisfy brings Leah back to reality. The game today was good. It didn’t go their way from the beginning with those wretched socks and their delayed start but they gave it their all. It was a lesson to be learned and one to look back on when the team had lost its spark.
Leah scoffs down half the roast and convinces you to throw a couple more smiley into the air fryer for her to drown in your delicious gravy. You put a fresh toothbrush next to hers in her bathroom and have a glass of warm milk on your bedside waiting for you like you like.
“You remembered,” you tell her as she hands you a ratty jersey for you to sleep in. You throw it on and inhale her delicate scent, your heart filling with warmth and ease.
“I still set it out sometimes you know, especially after you left.”
“You’ll have to try and remember again now, I think,” you tease, and she stands in front of you. You sip on your milk and she kisses the foam mustache off your lips.
“I’ll never forget, my love. Ever.”
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chibieggplant · 2 months
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~ Sanji and your baby bump ~
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Sanji talking to your baby bump while you’re asleep, Just pure fluff tbh
Sanji walks faster to his room desperate to see you after he finished cooking up dinner. When he gets to the room where he had left you in, he immediately walks through the door, where he sees you sleeping soundly on the bed. His face instantly lights up, he goes over to you and smiles as he sits down on the bed careful not to wake you up. He gently places a hand on your stomach leaning closer as he begins to speak softly…
“Hi my little one…” He leans a little bit closer, his smile remaining on his face.
“I missed you…I missed both of you” He looks up lovingly at your sleeping face.
“Mommy is right here, she’s going to keep you healthy, and I’m also going to be there to protect and take care of you as well.”
“I’m so excited to see what you will look like when you’re born. Will you look like mommy? Or will you look like me?…”
He chuckles softly “Mommy is really beautiful…so I hope you look like her…she’s on a whole new level…”
He looks away from your stomach and back down at you sleeping soundly. He smiles as he speaks again.
“Mommy is really lovely. I really love her…I love….”
He stops speaking as he blushes slightly. After letting out a small chuckle he shakes his head and clears his throat as he continues to speak.
“Sorry. I just…love her so much.”
He shakes his head again as he tries to stop himself from smiling any further. He rubs his cheeks as he realises he’s blushing and how much he’s been praising you.
“Yeah…I…love her so much.”
He leans down once again to your stomach once more and places his hand on it. He’s in awe as he feels the baby moving around inside of you as he feels how strong the baby is already.
“Mommy said that the way you move and kick makes you look really strong…i’m glad…i’m happy…”
He stays quiet as he feels the baby move around again, this time feeling a kick that was quite prominent on his hand. He chuckles softly to himself.
“That kick is pretty strong already…maybe you’ll take more after me…”
He continues to himself chuckle a little bit. The baby kept moving around and kicking as he kept his hand against your stomach. His whole face is filled with happiness right now as he feels how strong and lively his child already is.
“Just don’t give her too much of a hard time, okay? She’s precious so you need to be careful.”
After a moment he smiles again feeling another kick. It was a gentle feeling but he feels like it was intentional, like as if the baby was listening to him.
“You heard what I just said…so you better not be too much of a trouble in there, you hear me?”
The kicks die down and he can’t help but feel a bit sad but he assumes that the baby might be going back to sleep. He continues to keep his hand on her stomach, not wanting to remove it just yet.
He starts humming a soft tune as he waits for any movement to start once more. After a few moments he speaks up, hoping to talk to the baby as he keeps his hand there.
“You okay in there little one?…are you just relaxing?”
You stir in your sleep a little bit and wake up to hear Sanji talking to you belly.
He sighs a little as it’s been quiet for a while. Leaning his head in closely to your stomach and whispers a bit more…
“C’mon. Come back…I want to talk with you…”
“Are you having a conversation with the baby?”
Sanji hears you awakening and looks up from your stomach immediately. He quickly clears his throat as he looks up at you.
“Uh…n-no…I was...I was just checking on the baby...you know…I….I was just talking to him”
“Oh it’s a him is it?”
He blushes at your teasing and he nods his head as he speaks. “Yeah…I have a feeling that a he’s a strong and good boy…he’s going to be just like his dad….”
“Well If he’s anything like his dad then I’ll be more than happy”
He nods slowly still blushing slightly. “I feel like he will be though. I mean he can already kick very hard…he almost kicked my hand off….”
“Yeah I know, he doesn’t stop” You grumble.
Sanji chuckles a little “I mean I guess I can see where he gets that from…”
He lays down next to you wrapping his arms around you and laying his head down on your chest. He closes his eyes relaxing into and he swears this is the happiest he’s ever felt.
“I love him already…I love both of you”
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cheriladycl01 · 17 days
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Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife chef!reader? She always brought him food because she knew how busy he could get with everything. So, she would always make him his favourite meals/pick up a guilty pleasure snack as a surprise for him. Maybe she had some surprises for him. I'll let you decide what it was. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks! :))
Lets make lunch for my Husband! - Peter Bonnington x ChefWife! Reader
Plot: You are famous on Tiktok for making videos where you pack lunches for you husband but use ingredients globally as you always travel with him of race weekends.
Credit to princemick for the GIF
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y/user
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Liked by peter.bonn, gordongram and lewishamilton
y/user: Racing in Bahrain!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round One 🇧🇭 And we have Chicken, Rice and Veggies (a very hearty meal here) 🏎️
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fan1: I love her TikTok’s she’s so funny and Peter is just so cute!
fan2: their relationship is eveything you me
gordongram: Cooking in Style as always Y/N!
-> y/user: thanks Gords!
“Baby, lunch was amazing today! And thank you for putting the Twirl in there!” He grins as you both get back to the hotel, it had been a good race and you were both happy.
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it hunny. I’ve already made a meal plan of what I’m going to make at each race! You’ll be so happy with breakfast lunch and dinner in Silverstone!” You grin pulling him in for a kiss.
“Mmmm what have I got?” He grins, pulling you to sit on his lap on the sofa in your hotel room.
“Breakfast, of course a full English, get you all set for the day and make sure you’ve got all the protein to see you through till lunch. Then you’ve got your fave Ham Pesto and Mozzarella Sandwich for lunch. And then to round it off, I’ll invite Toto, Suzie, Lewis, George and Carmen all round for a Sunday Roast!” You say practically bouncing at the prospect of guests and being able to cook for them!
“I love you, you are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me” he smiles pulling you back to relax on the sofa as you both sit there in each others embrace.
“I love you most!” You declare making him laugh and kiss your head. It wasn’t a battle he could win with you despite knowing you were wrong and he held an impossible amount of love for you.
y/user
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Liked by peter.bonn and lewishamilton
y/user: Racing in Saudí Arabia!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Two 🇸🇦 And we have my first time making Kabsa which a local helped me get all the ingredients! It’s very yummy! 🏎️
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peter.bonn: it was so nice, can’t wait to come back!
fan1: I’m living for this series, not the rich men racing!
fan2: this is so cute that she cooks for him!
“You know, the boys keep saying you need to start bringing it in for them aswell” he chides as you get into the car.
“What am I expected to cook for the 5000 now? I don’t think so, that’s why they have a paid for hospitality…” you groan, waking up early just to prepare Peter some food was exhausting you couldn’t imagine getting up to make it for more people!
“Maybe Toto should hire you as head chef here!” He grins and you laugh at the thought. You, working in Mercedes Catering?
“Baby … you know I have a … Michelin Star right?” you offer in confusion.
“Oh so your below working for Mercedes now are you?” He frowns, faking his offence on the matter.
“Oh stop being a whiny baby Pete!” You scold lightly hitting his arm, making him recoil and sigh before pulling you into a big hug.
“Im lucky you don’t have to be there 24/7. What would I do without you” he laughs.
“Probably starve as you’d forget to eat!” You hum in thought.
y/user
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Liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and peter.bonn
y/user: Racing in Australia!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Three 🇦🇺 Of course I couldn’t come in and not offer fairy bread (as requested by my adopted grid son Oscar Piastri) and my famous Chicken Parm Sandwiches for the team which went down a treat!
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oscarpiastri: thank you for the fairy bread Y/N, LN understands the hype now
-> landonorris: don’t tell Jon, he said I couldn’t have any …
-> y/user: and rat out my second grid son, no way!
danielricciardo: brought back childhood memories! Thanks for coming all the way to VCARB for delivery!
-> y/user: you are welcome Dani! 🇦🇺🐨
“Thank you for the fairy bread!” Oscar said pulling you into a hug as you came back to get your container from the McLaren garage, seeing it fully empty.
“Everyone enjoy? Even though I felt like a child making it?” You laugh knowing it wasn’t exactly a chef thing to make but Oscar had asked for it, and who were you to deny the literal son you had adopted since he started.
“Yeah, Lando hadn’t ever tried it and I made it for Lily once to prove to her it was a real thing we ate but the bread kinda ended up being soggy, she preferred yours a lot more” he laughed back and you continued to talk about racing, cooking, life and everything else that just came up.
Halfway through that conversation Lando joined pulling his grid mum into a massive hug and asking her to bake him some cake or make the chicken wraps.
Fun fact, Y/N actually invented the chicken wrap for Lando. She became Lando’s private chef for a while when he lived in the UK, and he wasn’t … well I mean he’s Lando and if anyone expects him to know even know to turn on an oven you are sorely mistaken.
Eventually a group of drivers were around the woman, and it took Peter and Lewis forcing their way through to get her to come back.
“You’ve been busy!” He smiles nodding his head to the now dispersing group.
“Yeah, just talking to the kids!” You grin, nodding in the McLaren twins direction who were now messing around with each other.
y/user
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Liked by inthekitchen, peter.bonn and others
y/user: Racing in Azerbaijan!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Four 🇦🇿 Cooked up a storm off track today in a cooking interview and remaking one of the first dishes I learnt in school ‘Uzbek Plov’
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inthekitchen: pleasure to have you in and talking while cooking :)
-> y/user: thank you for all the fun! 🫶🏼
peter.bonn: This was nice, but I’m going to need some comfort food soon baby, these variations of meat and rice … it’ll be the end of me.
-> y/user: I thought you enjoyed my cooking!
-> peter.bonn: I DO! Just missing some creature comforts!
“You were amazing in that interview baby!” He says twirling you around as he came to pick you up on the Saturday evening. You had unfortunately missed qualifying, but you were excited to hear about your husbands day.
“Thank you, how was qually?” You ask.
“Could have been better, could have been worse” he admits looking down. He then tells you all about his frustrations with the car this season and he feels pretty helpless when it comes to advising Lewis who is getting more and more hot headed as the season progresses.
“Well I made your favourite!” You grin showing him the famous Victoria Sponge you’d made on the cooking show.
“Oh fuck, I love you!” He grins before directing you over to the car to get you both back to the hotel as soon as possible so he can have some of the delicacy in the tin on your lap.
y/user
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y/user: Racing in Miami
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Five 🇺🇸 My husbands been getting fussier. Now in the homeland where there is no cuisine … we’ve gone for the requested creature comforts. From Breakfast to Lunch here are Peter’s faves!
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peter.bonn: best waffles ever 🧇
“Thank you, I think I really needed that meal! As much as love the differentiation with this global skills challenge. I needed something to remind me of home! The waffles were perfect. And my favourite Sandwich? I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned for Monaco next week!” He grins happily. Loving that you were cooking him something for every race.
“Ooo that reminds me. I picked you up these” you grin. Out from your bag you pull out a box of American Candy that he always wanted whenever you guys were in the states.
“In Moderation okay? Toto will murder me if he knows all these desserts are happening!” You smile kissing him before placing the sweets in his hand.
You had big plans for Monaco and you couldn’t wait!
Taglist:
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hanafubukki · 5 months
Note
*breaks your door with an axe in the shape of bat and peeks inside* hey.
So! I got hungry for soft Lilia and baby silver with a Yuu that accidentally space time traveled in the wrong direction for a couple of days.
And for a couple of days they help take care of a baby silver, with a moody malleus showing up from time to time in the span of the weekend Yuu stayed.
So cottage core family moments! From preparing Silvers milk/food to telling certain dragon to stop staring from outside with a threating look so Yuu doesn’t put anything sus in the food.
“Malleus, please, stop! If you want, you can come in and help with the cooking”
“Help? How bold of you human, asking the prince that so humbly allows you to exist in this land, to help you with a task reserved to who are my servants,”
“Shame, I was going to ask you to be my taste tester for the ice cream. Guess I can ask Lilia,”
“But I am kind and I will assist you in your cooking endeavors!”
Yuu’s food is too good to pass for MalMal, as Yuu knows exactly what to put that he likes whenever he comes over! Which is almost every day.
He may be a prince, but no one is mighty enough to not lick the cake batter from the bowl.
Hello Anonie 🌺🌻💚
With all of you breaking down my door, I think I’m going to be cold this rainy winter 🤣🤣
…do you think Diasomnia will let me stay with them? 😆💞 also, can I have that axe I want to use it on the senate 🤣 (at least you didn’t go “here’s Johnny!”)
You are speaking my love language because yes!! Time travel shenanigans my love!!
Malleus adores Silver. He would see you and remember the stories he heard about human and would be extra protective. Lilia says it’s fine. You have the blessing of the night fae on you. Fae can tell when people lie and you have spoken nothing but the truth.
Haven’t given them details of the future, but he can’t blame you for being precautious.
Even so, Malleus keeps his guard up until, well, you bribe him.
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You had seen all sides of Malleus Draconia from your time at NRC, that whole dream fiasco, and even beyond that.
But this side? The very protective and yet slightly rebellious side? Was new to you. You kind of enjoyed this more expressive Malleus.
You definitely enjoyed taking care of baby Silver. He was beyond precious and such a happy baby.
You can see why Lilia loves his sons so much. Both of them are adorable.
A part of you wanted to stay, wanted to enjoy this tranquility.
But no, you couldn’t.
You had so much waiting for you in the future.
These little ones will grow into fine men.
A lover who you adore with your whole heart.
You couldn’t wait until you returned to your time, so you can tease them.
“I see Malleus warmed up to you.”
“Not with any help from you.”
Lilia laughed, “I knew you could handle it.”
“Father’s intuition?”
“A bit of that and something else.”
With the way Lilia eyed the chain around your neck, you knew he had an idea.
The chain held your wedding ring.
Your husband always was a cheeky and smart one even during the NRC days, baring a certain event that is.
Smart bat dad.
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You opened your eyes to fluttering kisses all over your face.
“Welcome back, Precious.”
You pulled Lilia down into a kiss.
“I’m back.”
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☺️🌺🌻 Surprise! They are married and you were from a further future beyond nrc time.
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lemonlover1110 · 9 days
Text
Girl Dad
Dad Series
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Kento Nanami
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Taking care of a baby and a five-year-old isn’t easy, but Kento has it covered. You have a bad cold, the man can’t let you near his daughters. You need to rest and he won’t risk having the girls sick. However, Kento didn’t realize how much of a handful they would be.
Suki herself is enough to fill up Kento’s plate, but having a ten-month-old baby on top of it makes his job even more difficult. Suki loves her little sister, don’t get her wrong, but she will ensure that she’s the favorite daughter even if that includes sabotaging a toddler. Kento knows it, that’s why he keeps his eyes on her.
But Kento can’t keep his eye on Suki at all times, especially when you’re sick. He’s trying to cook a nutritious meal, he can’t hold a baby that loves to touch everything. The easiest solution is to put her in her playpen while he gives Suki something to entertain herself with. It’s usually his phone, giving her a game to play before he begins his other duties.
Sometimes the phone isn’t enough to entertain her. Suki loves to wander around the house, painting on the walls, playing with your decoration, making “potions” with your lotions and perfumes– The list goes on. But sometimes all of that isn’t enough to entertain her.
“Daddy, can I paint your nails?” Suki asks, walking to the kitchen where Kento makes lunch for everyone. Soup for you, something bland for his picky daughters, and then something simple for himself. In other words, his hands are full.
“Later, Suki.” Is all he says, and Suki stomps her little feet, walking back to the living room with her kid nail polish. Her little arms are crossed, and she looks around for something to do, something that will express her anger. She looks down at her nail polish then she hears some cooing from the playpen, and a lightbulb turns on.
Not even five minutes pass, and Kento hears his eldest daughter yelling at the baby. He turns off the stove and walks to the living room to hear Suki yell, “Bad, Chichi! Bad!”
“She’s not a dog, Suki. That’s your baby sister.” Kento corrects her because Suki treats the baby as her dog. Kento walks over to the playpen, where Suki reprimands the baby. Suki’s nail polish is spilled in front of the baby, and before her chubby hands can lay on top of the puddle, Kento picks her up from the playpen. “What happened here?”
“I climbed into the pen to play with her but she grabbed my nail polish and started to throw it around. Like usual.” Suki is a great actress, sticking out her bottom lip and crossing her arms.
“Is that true Chichi?” Kento softens his voice while talking to the clueless, happy baby. She smiles, causing Kento to smile back at her. He kisses her chubby cheek before putting his attention back on Suki. He hates to reprimand her but he can’t let her get away with everything anymore. “I’m not a dumbass, Suki. You can start doing bad things and blame it on her when she’s two or three, right now that won’t work.”
“I’m telling the truth!” She claims, but Kento is hearing none of it. She knows it’s not believable but her daddy usually believes her every word, so she hoped this time around he would believe her again.
“Get out of there, Suki, and stop lying before I put you on timeout again.” Kento can’t believe the words he’s saying. Timeout? Really? He hates it, he’s supposed to support her with everything, not reprimand her.
“Can I go with mommy?”
“She’s sleeping. Now go sit down on the couch and wait for the food.” He’s very serious, she can tell, so she won’t challenge him anymore.
“Can I play with Chichi?” Suki asks as Kento walks back to the kitchen with the baby. He looks at his sweet smiley baby, who reminds him so much of Suki. And to think Suki blames everything on a replica of herself– But he reminds himself that he’s the reason she acts like a little brat.
“Next thing you’ll do is put your mother’s makeup on her, you’ll blame it on the baby and we all get yelled at. I won’t risk it.” He clicks his tongue. 
Kento has to find a way to get Suki to stop blaming everything on the baby, but he has a feeling that’ll take a while.
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straykeedz · 6 months
Text
i should be getting ready to go to bed since i have classes early in the morning, and i definitely shouldn’t be thinking about
dad!changbin
who would be utterly in love with his child from the second he finds out you’re expecting a mini version of you and him. he’d cry when you announce him you’re pregnant, handing him a small box containing two positive tests and an ultrasound;
and no, i’m not talking about teary eyes and pouty lips, i’m talking proper sobbing as he envelops you in a heartfelt hug and cries tears of pure happiness and joy because his dream is finally coming true - a family with you;
he would be next to you 25/8, never leaving your side, making sure you’re feeling alright and that everything’s okay with you and the baby. he’d have his hands on your belly all the time, and when he’s not touching it, he’s kissing it, whispering sweet words to the baby growing inside of you, a baby he can’t wait to meet;
he’d talk to the baby all the time, i’m sure of it. telling it about his day, or the new song he’s producing these days - a very special song about a very special someone he hasn’t met yet, but whom he already loves with his whole heart.
he’d keep the very first ultrasound inside his wallet, and when he’s taking a break from rehearsal or recording sessions or dance practices he’d pull it out to look at it, smiling like an idiot;
he’d treat you like a queen. he already does, of course, being the gentleman he is - but if you’re pregnant with a child? you’re not lifting a finger inside the house. he’s doing everything: the cleaning, the cooking, the dusting, everything. and don’t you even think about protesting or trying to do the house chores anyways, are you kidding?;
and he cries so, so much when he hears the heartbeat of your baby for the first time…;
don’t even get me started on him feeling the baby kick for the first time! he’d get so excited and would desperately try to make your baby kick again and again and again and again until - “binnie, sweetie, it’s two am. please leave the baby alone so we can get some rest.” but would definitely try again in the morning;
at first - he wouldn’t want to find out if you’re expecting a boy or a girl, he doesn’t really care. all that matters to him is that the baby is healthy - that the both of you are healthy, that’s the most important thing to him;
but when the doctor accidentally reveals that you’re expecting a girl… here come the waterworks. he would’ve cried either way, let’s be real, but a little girl? a mini version of you?;
he’d start thinking of the perfect name as soon as you find out the sex. hell, he’d start buying toys and plushies and clothes for your baby girl - you’d have to threaten him to block his credit card after he comes home with two huge bags full of stuff for the baby;
and let’s be real he’d definitely bring home a giant dwaekki plushie so that your little girl could fall asleep next to it cuddling it once she’s born;
they’d be the best nine months of his life, for real. but when you’re in labor and about to deliver the baby? that’s when his anxiety and his insecurities would kick in - what if he won’t be a good father? he doesn’t know how to be one after all, so what if he messes up? what if he can’t be enough for the both of you?;
but all of his worries would instantly vanish when his eyes would meet those of his baby girl. she has his eyes, big and playful, staring right into his soul as he feels something he’s never felt before, a love that fills all of his heart and soul, a love that makes him complete;
you’d have to hug him and pat his back and dry his tears for literal hours after your baby girl says her first word - “appa”;
he’d be your baby girl’s best friend and partner in crime, i’m sure of that. you’d come back home and find the living room turned upside down, toys scattered all over the floor and a blanket fort built with the cushions of your couch, but you can’t mad when you notice the loves of your life asleep on the fluffy carpet, both dressed up as princesses, with little crowns and tutus and everything, as a disney cartoon plays in the background?;
and when your little girl suddenly shows interest in playing basketball? changbin would literally run to the store and buy a mini hoop the next day and play with her. and definitely give you the side-eye and pout at you when you’d make a silly comment about how “now this is a hoop that matches your height”, but he’d let it slide, because if there’s someone who can make fun of him it’s you - he knows you don’t mean it anyway;
he’d let his baby girl paint his nails any color she wants, or let her braid and style his hair - more like pull it until tears fall from his eyes, but how could he get mad at her once he notices her satisfied expression once she’s done putting unicorn bobby pins in his hair?;
and he’d try his best to learn how to braid your daughter’s hair, but no matter how effort he puts into it, he’ll never be as good as you. a messy braid is the result of an experiment which involved three broken hair ties (don’t ask) and a youtube tutorial - and for a second there he’s scared she’s going to burst into tears once she sees the final look. instead, she smiles at him, and then hugs him as tight as she can, saying that he’s “the best appa”. and changbin is the one who bursts into tears;
he’s “the best appa” also when he buys your daughter the dinosaur plushie she wanted so bad;
and his heart would break when he’d pick up his baby at kindergarten the one day and sees her cry, teardrops running down her beautiful, puffy cheeks. all because of a little boy who made fun of her for having a dinosaur toy instead of a doll. and changbin would explain to her that “there’s nothing wrong with liking dinosaurs more than dolls”, and would giggle when her daughter would calmly explain that “but i like playing with dolls too, appa”. so, at the next tea party, changbin would be sitting between the t-rex plushie and a barbie;
one day, he’d be helping you carrying the groceries inside when he’d notice a blue box peeking from inside the bag. you’d try to hide it as quickly as possible once you start sorting the groceries out, but you’re not quick enough. “is this what i think it is?” he’d ask. and you’d sigh, handing him the small carton box. a pregnancy test. “is- are you- are we?” his brain would short-circuit. you’d tell him that you don’t know, you aren’t 100% sure, but your period’s late;
and he’d ask you to take it immediately, heart hammering inside his chest. part of him is incredibly thrilled, another part of him is terribly scared. but happiness is the feeling that prevails in his heart;
three minutes later, two lines show up on the white plastic stick, but he doesn’t cry. not yet. what he does, is run to the closest convenience store and buy four more tests. all positive;
only then, he’d cry. so hard that his daughter would come up to him, concerned, pull him by the t-shirt and ask him “what’s wrong, appa? are you sad?” and he’d kneel down before your daughter, drying his own tears as he shakes his head and tells her that “no, appa’s not sad. appa’s happy, because you’re going to be a big sister.”;
crying as well, you’d also kneel down next to them, and changbin would pull the two of you in a tight - but not too tight - hug, then kiss you and your daughter on top of your heads as he repeats that “i love you so much.” over and over and over and over again.
yeah, i think i’ll go outside and touch some grass after this 🥹
-> don’t forget to reblog if you like my works; “it’s good for motivation” my man chris bang once said. ♡
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blackhairedjjun · 8 months
Text
the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
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pairing: choi yeonjun x gender neutral reader | genre / tropes: fluff, friends to lovers, reader who likes to cook, ft. friend!taehyun | word count: 2.7k | warnings: food, some profanity
author's notes: yeonjun birthday fic made it on time!! this was more rushed than my usual writing bc i was cramming it in between work, i've been super busy these days :'( but i've wanted to do yeonjun with an s/o who loves to cook for him for a while, and his birthday was the perfect opportunity to write it. so i'm relieved to get this out!
this fic has been cross-posted to ao3 here
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the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
you never believed the sentiment yourself until your friend taehyun invited you to hang out with some of his other friends. at the first mention you had doubts about going, but when taehyun mentioned the word potluck, you just couldn’t resist 一 he knew it was a magic word for you.
you didn’t prepare anything too fancy, just a modest batch of tteokbokki. you love how comforting the dish was, from the warm and spicy aroma of the sauce to its soft and springy rice cakes, and it’s a safe thing to make to leave a good impression on taehyun’s friends. at his house you set your tteokbokki on the makeshift buffet table that he had set up, and pray that the guests would actually give your dish a chance.
you underestimated just how much of an impact it would have.
taehyun’s friends love it, but one friend in particular catches your eye. as he takes his first bite his expression changes, his whole face seemingly glowing with delight. his smile is so wide that he’s barely able to keep his mouth shut to chew, and he squirms in his seat in a little dance.
you’ve cooked for others plenty of times before, but you’ve never seen anyone so utterly transformed by your cooking.
“this is so good! mm, i’m so happy... this is so yummy, really... wait, who brought this again?”
taehyun gestures towards you. “y/n cooked it. they’re really good, right? this is, well, it’s their thing.”
his friend whips his head towards you, the wide smile still plastered on his face. it reaches all the way to his eyes, and you see the way they shine in appreciation.
“thank you so much for bringing this,” he says. “can you make this again when you come back?”
you’ve only known this friend for an hour or so and he’s already talking about coming back, which makes your heart flutter and your face grow warm. “s-sure, i’d love to.”
it’s a few months before you’re free again to come to the next hangout, and when taehyun reintroduces you to his friends you note the name of the one whose face lit up at your tteokbokki: yeonjun. this time you’ve brought some spaghetti cooked in freshly made tomato sauce, and again it’s a hit. yeonjun loves it as much as the tteokbokki, and when he’s slurped up his plate and cleaned up he thanks you profusely and looks at you as if you were a saint 一 the patron saint of good food, perhaps. you can’t help but give him a shy smile, and you swear that his cheeks turned a little pink at the gesture.
the day flies by in the presence of good food and good company. when you finally have to leave, yeonjun stops you for a moment; he meets your gaze head on, but the fidgeting of his hands betrays him.
“d’you want to hang out sometime? just you and me, i mean.”
“oh, are you sick of taehyun too?”
from the corner of your eye you see your mutual friend laugh and give you a sly grin. your remark seems to fluster yeonjun, though; he turns his head away to collect himself, which only makes taehyun laugh a bit more.
“i was kidding, i was kidding. but yeah, i’d love to hang out.”
“cool, great.” 
“yeah, cool.”
you try to play it off but your heart pounds in your ears. and though yeonjun is leaning against the wall and trying to seem calm about the whole thing, his heart is racing just as much.
you don’t cook for your first hangout together (he brings you to his favorite ramen shop in the area, which also happens to be your favorite ramen shop in the area) but on your second hangout you make an impromptu meal by cobbling together a stew from whatever you have in your fridge. yeonjun devours it, eating every vegetable and chunk of meat and sip of stew with pure joy all over his face, and when he’s done he stands up to wash the dishes for you. you try to stop him, only for him to gently take your hand before you can grab a sponge. his touch sends a jolt of electricity right through you.
“let me do this for you,” he says. “i wanna thank you for the meal.”
“you don’t have to, yeonjun, i just threw a bunch of stuff together in a pot一”
“please?” he says with a pout. “you’re so sweet for making this, let me repay you.”
his eyes meet yours and you feel your heart soften at the way he looks at you. “okay, fine... and thank you.”
you hang out with him many more times 一 sometimes he invites you, other times you invite him. there’s always a bit of food to share, whether it’s snacks from the convenience store or a home-cooked meal by yourself, but it’s the little moments between the bites of food that make the time worth it. 
one hot afternoon yeonjun helps you clean up after your ice cream has melted and dripped on you, and his hands brush against yours as he dabs an extra napkin against a messy spot on your sleeve. another evening you laugh when he spills some of his pasta out of his plate from too much excitement, and you tut playfully as you give him a bit of your share. on another day you plan to have breakfast together at a nice restaurant to watch the sunrise, only for both of you to stay up late and oversleep. instead you invite him over and team up to make lunch, and soon your kitchen is a mess of flour and breadcrumbs from the breaded pork cutlets you’re trying to make. you sing along to yeonjun’s playlist as you soak a piece of pork in egg, and next to you he draws a heart with the flour residue on the countertop.
you don’t know when exactly your hangouts cross the threshold into dates, but at one point you realize that things feel different when it’s just you and him around. the world feels smaller, the light of day feels brighter,  and even the meals you cook seem to stay warmer for longer. taehyun catches up with you over text as usual all throughout, and when you tell him about your friendship with yeonjun, he simply texts back: friendship?
when yeonjun’s birthday draws near, you know exactly what you want to do: make one of his favorite foods, pho, from scratch. finding a good recipe online is easy, and visit to your local market provides you with every ingredient you need. it’s not the most complicated thing you’ve tried to make, and watching videos of other chefs try it out gives you a bit of confidence.
so why on earth are you so damn nervous to make it? 
“i’ve never been so scared to fuck up a dish in my life,” you tell taehyun as you skim some fat off the top of the broth simmering away in a pot. it’s the day of yeonjun’s birthday and you’ve got another hangout (or date?) later that night, and taehyun has offered to help with preps. 
“when you’re scared for something, it just means that you care a lot about it,” he says. he looks up from chopping the onions for the pho and gives you a nod. “you’ve cooked gifts for other people before, you can definitely do this.”
“that’s exactly it!” you say, tossing away the scum you’ve collected. “i made a whole pizza for your birthday this year, taehyun. i roasted pork for my parents’ wedding anniversary, and that should’ve been way scarier than this. but with yeonjun, i… i feel like i can’t fuck this up. if i think about serving him bad pho or even mediocre pho and him getting sad over it, it makes me want to throw myself out of here and go into hiding forever. i’ve never felt like that about anything before.”
“you’ve known him for a few months, not as long as you’ve known me. you want to show the best of yourself for him.” taehyun smiles. “that’s not a bad thing at all.”
“i guess.” you fidget with a wooden spoon as you mull over his words. he’s right, but it’s not like you wanted to settle for mediocrity with your other friends or with your parents either. there’s something else at play, but you dare not admit it out loud. (taehyun already knows anyway, you figure.)
you’re glad to have your friend’s company in the hours it takes for the broth to fully absorb all the flavors. taehyun puts on some of your favorite shows and helps you stretch to ease away your stress, and though you check on your pot from time to time, the two of you also prepare your space. he tells you about his own forays into cooking — he recently ordered a new set of knives that he can’t wait to try — as you place a clean tablecloth on the dining table and wash a set of bowls. his company grounds you and makes the nervousness swirling around in your stomach feel more like a gentle current than a roaring wave.
with the broth done and most of the pho ingredients ready for assembly, the two of you are waiting for the rice noodles to cook when a text from yeonjun arrives.
i’ll be there in 15 mins!
taehyun reads the text over your shoulder and grins. “do you need any more help with the pho?”
“nah, i’m good.”
“that means i can leave, then,” he says with an odd half-smile you rarely see on him. “enjoy your dinner with yeonjun.”
“thanks, taehyun. hey, wait一”
he picks up his bag in record speed and when you blink, he’s at your doorway. “tell me about it over text.”
“hey!”
he’s gone.
you’ve never seen taehyun leave your apartment so fast, and you suspect he knows something that you don’t. still, you don’t let yourself worry about it too much, not when preparing your pho should be the first thing on your mind. you check back on the noodles boiling away in your pot and let out a sigh.
i hope this turns out well, you think.
“so, y/n, what do you have ready for tonight? i hope it’s go一 oh...”
“happy birthday, yeonjun.”
whatever remark he was about to make fades into silence when you set down two bowls of pho in front of him. he’s entranced by the savory aroma, the steam swirling upward from each bowl, the noodles and thin slices of onions nearly glistening under the light. you see his lips form a perfect O, the way it always does when his favorite food shows up in front of him.
he doesn’t notice the way your hands tremble as you set down each bowl, or the way your eyes nervously dart back and forth between the pho and his expression. you wonder if he’s excited enough, if the pho will live up to his expectations, then you look at his bowl and think maybe he would like more noodles, maybe the cilantro should be fresher, maybe the broth isn’t salty or sour or spicy enough...
taehyun always said you’re your own worst critic, and you feel all the little criticisms coming in one after the other as you settle down opposite yeonjun. he does a little dance in his seat as he squeezes the lime over the bowl, then looks at you with a smile that lights up his whole face. “it smells so good,” he says. “i can’t wait!”
that’s one good sign, but nothing definitive.
“well, i won’t keep you waiting any longer,” you say. “dig in!”
“thank you for the food!”
the moment it takes for him to slurp up the noodles feels like an eternity to you. as you watch him eat, you pray that the first slurp was as good as it should be, that the noodles were firm enough. then he looks up from the bowl and at you, and you pray that—
he’s smiling. 
it’s different from his earlier excited smile. this one also reaches all the way up to his eyes, but it’s laced with pure adoration. you’ve seen the way his face changes after eating good food countless times, but now this expression seems more tender; he gazes at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life.
you swallow. “is it… good?”
“good? it’s amazing. y/n… you’re so good to me.”
you’re smiling back at him too, and something blooms in you as you gaze back. you feel full of many things: relief, appreciation, affection…
maybe even love.
you feel it bloom as you watch him slurp on the broth and savor each piece of beef with gusto, stopping only to gush about how good it is and how good you are. you feel it settle in you when you dig into your own bowl, savoring the rich flavors of the beef and spices and lime that you poured yourself into, not caring when a bit of broth dribbles off your chin or a noodle falls off and yeonjun giggles at the sight. and you feel it grow in your heart when you try to reach for his empty bowl to wash up, only for him to take your hand again. this time you feel not a jolt of electricity but a wave of warmth.
“rest, you worked hard today. i’ll clean up.”
“it’s your birthday, yeonjun! you are not washing the dishes on your birthday.”
“but what if i want to?” he pouts at you and he knows you can’t resist. “or we can wash them together? what if i want to spend my birthday washing up with you?”
you sigh but relent.
you don’t dare say it to him, but washing up with yeonjun is… comforting. it takes longer than usual, but you don’t mind as he talks about the gift his mom mailed him or about his plans with taehyun and the other guys tomorrow. he tells you some pretty bad dad jokes and you nearly drop the last bowl you’re rinsing from laughing at how awful they are.
he’s still laughing as he pries the clean bowl from your hands and sets it on the rack to dry, and as his hands brush yours, you meet his gaze. he’s looking at you with that same tender look from when he first tried the pho, and your cheeks begin to warm.
“thank you for cooking for me.”
“of course, i want to—”
“you’re always so good to me,” he says. he takes your hands in his, and yours start to tremble; it’s okay, because his do too. “i’ve never had someone who treated me like this before. i want to… i…”
he falters and looks away from you, and you see a hint of pink spreading across his cheeks. he sucks in a breath and when he looks at you again, you move your face closer to his.
you don’t remember who initiates the kiss; all you know is that his lips are on yours, soft and sweet. he wraps his arms around you and you relax in his arms, knowing that nothing your ever make will taste as sweet as this.
when you break apart for air he looks sheepish, nothing like the confident friend you’ve known, but you love the way his eyes shine. his voice is breathy when he speaks: “i like you, y/n.”
“i like you too,” you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and brushing your nose against his. a second kiss would be even sweeter, and his lips nearly brush against yours when…
your phone rings and you nearly jump out of his arms.
“what the hell!”
it’s taehyun.
beomgyu i think hyung would be confessing right about now
oh wrong chat
hi y/n :)
681 notes · View notes
chrollohearttags · 6 months
Text
commissions corner: lesson learned
you always had a tendency to express yourself through fashion but your husband happens to not agree with one of your outfit choices (or your attitude) and decides, you need to be punished!
content warning + themes: cowboy!reiner, mean dom!rei (🤤 bc hello) black fem reader, calls reader slut, rough sex, bondage, clothes ripping, tit fucking, cumshot, spanking, backshots, fingering, spit play, creampie, dumbification, throat fucking, squirting, hair pulling, daddy is used.
word count: 6.5K
this is a commission for @naodreaming! Thank you so much for entrusting this fic to me. I appreciate your patience and do hope that it was worth the wait! Please enjoy 🫶🏾
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marriage: a beautiful conception of two people’s undying love. A bond binding two souls together in bliss for all of eternity. Some choose to solidify their unions with a mere court house appearance and the legal confirmation of a certificate. Others want to go all out with a ceremony, reception dinners, honeymoons..the works. But no matter how you choose to join together with your sweetheart, there is one thing all couples can agree on and that’s the fact that no relationship is perfect! As much as we’d like to think that it’s all sunshine and rainbows, it’s all about compromise, learning and getting out of your own ways. That much became apparent when one day, your husband of five years approached you about a matter that had been weighing heavily on his mind..and other things as well..
“Seriously, Rei? I don’t understand the big deal. It’s just a fucking skirt, who cares?”
“First of all, watch your mouth. I won’t say it again. Second, I care. No woman of mine is gonna be struttin ‘round here, dressed like that. What’s gotten into ya’ anyways, (Y/N)? This isn’t like you.”
This conversation was one that was ultimately inevitable but important nonetheless. What started out as a simple disagreement had escalated into something rather serious. The two of you had never fought or even raised your voices at each other since you’d been together. But now? You were ready to rip his fucking head off! How dare this man treat you like his child rather than his equal? You were livid!
“Because, Reiner! I’m a grown ass woman so don’t tell me what I can and can’t wear–” he truly couldn’t believe what he was hearing..how had his sweetheart of a woman become so aggressive? And over an outfit of all things?! But little did he know, this had been long overdue and the cause of such a breaking point? Well he’d be surprised to know..
flashback - two weeks ago
“(Y/N), come onnn..hurry up!”
“Just a minute. I’m trying to find something.”
It was a sentence they had heard uttered many times before. Honestly, it had become the norm when the four of you linked up for a girls night. You and your three best friends would go out once every couple weeks to play catch up in one another’s lives, divulge in juicy family and workplace gossip and just overall, decompress from kids, husbands and all other stress inducers that came with being an adult. As for you, you were the luckiest among the quartet. No children at the moment, running a successful cooking blog and spending your rancher hubby’s money at your leisure. Your only true occupation was to look pretty and be happy. Honestly, it was all that your sweet Reiner could ever hope for as he spent hours in the hot sun, rustling cattle, baling hay and keeping the one hundred plus acres of farmland in order. He’d work himself to the bone just to see a smile on that gorgeous face. To say he was twisted around your pretty little manicured fingers would be a gross understatement. Some would even call him whipped!..but how could he possibly help himself when you were the literal embodiment of a goddess? That curvaceous figure, deep, decadent skin and gorgeous eyes that could pry anything from him. He was smitten. Perhaps a bit too much sometimes..it was never in a toxic or obsessive manner but you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your husband didn’t have a bit of a jealous side to him. You had to admit, it was cute at times..seeing him get all flustered because some guy stared too hard or tried to hit on you and you’d politely turn them down, reminding them that you were taken and happily so. You’d remind him constantly that he was the only man you’d ever love. In fact, you were equally as infatuated. Practically unable to pull yourself away from him after he’s come home from working all day, drenched in sweat and scars from hauling heavy equipment. Admiring all of his newly acquired muscles..even adding to the collection of markings at the end of the night. But the one thing Reiner despised more than anything was sharing what was his. He loved when you showed off your body..dressing in frilly lingerie or tiny outfits but only when he’d be the sole spectator of said ensembles.
however, you had other plans for the night!
finally stepping from the shadows, heels clicking against the laminate flooring of your two story cabin style home, you’d present yourself to the group. “Okay, ladies. What do we think?” To your dismay though, it wouldn’t be praise or approval you’d be receiving from the other three standing in your living room at the moment. But rather snickers and waves of dismissal. Standing dumbfounded with your purse in hand, (Y/N) questioned what the trio so tickled.
“Girl, we’re going to the lounge for drinks and to dance. Not for praise and worship.”
“Right. Girl, put them damn kitten heels and granny skirts back in that closet.”
Taking one more look over your outfit, you’d try to see what was so wrong with your choice of attire but had no idea. A simple black dress with red bottom slingbacks and a clutch..a sleek and classic look for a grown and sexy night out. But perhaps, this was far too grown. Almost grown enough to be collecting social security! It was outdated and a little old fashioned. Especially when they were all dressed in skin tight bodycon dresses and heels higher than heaven. It would completely throw off the vibe. But they knew the real reason for such a look and needless to say, they didn’t like it. Out of respect for your husband, you tended to dress more modestly when going out with the ladies. It wasn’t a matter of control or fear that made you do so..but one night when you came home with your ass hanging out and tits bouncing around in a revealing top, Reiner couldn’t take his eyes or hands off of you. You looked amazing but after he finished peeling those thin layers off of you and devouring you right there on the couch, you could tell that there was a sense of sadness that had washed over him. He didn’t outwardly say it and he was even a little bashful when admitting it but you got it out of him and what he had to say truly broke your heart:
“Ahh..I don’t know, sugar. It’s just..ya’ look so beautiful and I know how happy it makes ya’ to wear those out with your girls but it makes me a little uncomfortable, ya know? I don’t ever wanna tell ya’ what to do. I trust you and I’m not worried about some other guy but..if ya’ could just tone it back a little..”
he was so sweet about it, you couldn’t help but to comply! It crushed you to think that you’d ever upset your beloved husband. Especially when he was so good to you. And trust, when it was for his viewing pleasure only, you’d have him sweating bullets but for now? You could make that sacrifice. Little did you know, you’d become the laughing stock amongst your group because of it. Ushering her way over to you, one of the friends would drape an arm around your shoulder and breathe a sigh.
“Sis, you know I ain’t trying to cause problems with you and your man but don’t you think this is a bit much? I mean, honestly. I think it’s cute that you’re trying to be the good little wife and all but be for real..this is not your style. You and I both know that.”
before you could even utter a word, another would interject and second the notion. They didn’t want to be those friends who planted bugs in your ear and caused turmoil in your home but they felt as though Reiner may have been asking too much of you. Considering that it was that skin tight attire that bagged in the first place! Hell, when you first met him, you were straddling a mechanic bull in booty shorts and a crop top. A belly button dangling from your pudgy stomach and that ass sitting so heavy, he fucked on the first night. So they didn’t understand the need for reservation now. And the more they spoke..neither did you.
“Yeah, boo. I ain’t wanna say nothing but this whole First Lady thing you got goin on is not it. Girl, you used to have your foot on these bitches’ necks when we went out. Everybody was looking at you and now? You're dressing like Olivia Pope with a hennessy bottle. It’s crazy.”
you knew they meant well but truthfully, they were overreacting..or so you thought! In a moment of haste and you trying to explain the choice of outfit, they would spin you around to the full length mirror and allow you to observe for yourself. “C’mon y'all. You’re making a big deal out of nothing–” but as you saw firsthand, they were not. And this whole frumpy look was a total buzzkill. Feeling up the fabric, you couldn’t believe it..right now, it felt as if you were staring at an entirely different woman. It was a much needed intervention for you and you decided right then and there, that although you loved your husband more than life itself, this had to end. You didn’t carefully curate your closet and have women all around the city jealous of your wardrobe to be dressed like someone’s auntie. Enough was enough!
“You know what? I’ll be right back. Screw this..” and with those affirmations, you turned on your two inch heels and promptly changed.
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fast forward, and now..you were in the midst of a heated argument for your liberation to wear what you pleased. After one of your friends posted a video to their instagram story of you shaking your ass and them smacking it whilst out for a night on the town. But the worst part was when the skirt lifted and you flashed the camera with your barely clothed cunt. The story was spotted by one of their husbands who promptly told Reiner and needless to say, things got a little out of control. He wasn’t hellishly irate but he damn sure wasn’t happy! Confronting you with the footage, he asked a simple question:
“What the fuck is this, (y/n)? Why is yer’ damn ass all over your friend’s Instagram?” Which couldn’t exactly be taken seriously upon first asking with that thick country accent but as you saw he wasn’t joking, you promptly straightened him. “Babe, I don’t know what you’re talking about, seriously. What video did you see?” and once he showed you the clip, it was from up there! You were just as astounded as he was..you didn’t even know that your friends had even filmed you in such a state. But that's besides the point..
“..you promised, (y/n). Now I look like a damn fool because you had to go around dressing like that.” His words stung like sharp daggers because you’d never heard or seen him so irate. But honestly? You didn’t give a damn about his hurt feelings. Not when you were the one looking foolish, all for his sake! “Yes Rei, I did! But I didn’t sign up to be in the club dressed like somebody’s grandma at Sunday Service. I wore the exact same clothes when you met me so what’s the big deal all of a sudden?” Truth be told, he sounded jealous and insecure but as he paced the bedroom floor, shirtless and donning gray sweats, he’d offer up another explanation. One far more annoying than your own conclusion. Either way, you didn’t care and wasn’t going to change shit! You were a grown woman and you also had a father so you didn’t need his ass trying to be your parent. He was being incredibly unreasonable right now. But you’d soon find out just how serious he was about his request…
“I’m not gonna argue with you anymore, (y/n). This conversation is done. Tell her to delete that and I better not catch you in that again.”
because he was no longer asking but rather telling you what his expectation was. However, you couldn’t be vexed to listen and was determined or whatever you pleased. Smacking your lips, you’d snatch the skirt up from the bed and strut past him without so much as a second thought. “Got me fucked up..I’ll be back later—“ but alas, you’d come to find out that your husband was not interested in your disrespectful attitude. With a hand cradled to the back of your neck, Reiner would tug you towards him and halt you immediately in your tracks. It caught you completely off guard; mainly because he had never grabbed or even touched you in such a way. There wasn’t a lot of force behind it but it was very assertive. Something not typical for your doting, sweet husband. “What is your problem?!” He didn’t even waste time trying to answer or explain shit to you and rather..tossed you to the bed. His behavior had you so off kilt, not even you could form the correct words to express. All you could do was turn around and stare at him in complete surprise. However, he’d have plenty to say..enough for the both of you!
“My problem? Oh sweetheart…you haven’t seen problems yet..” muttering through gritted teeth with a faint smirk on his lips. Not once in the entirety of your relationship had your man ever looked so irate. There seemed to be a dormant fire lit within his eyes and your last outburst had served as the unfortunate catalyst for that impending blaze. He was angry..no, he was fucking pissed! Here he was trying to reason with you and you all but spat in his face when he asked for basic respect. Whatever or whoever had caused you to act this way had landed you in a world of trouble that you had no chance of getting out of right now! Returning that grasp back to your throat, he’d snatch your head from the mattress and grimace in your ear.. “don’t even think about moving from this fucking bed. You don’t speak, breathe or even move without my permission. Got it?” And something told you it was in your best interest to comply. “Nod.” Only allowing the command for a split moment before slamming your head back down. “Good girl.” It was something about the abrupt dominance and control that had driven you into a submissive headspace at will. That and the fact that he looked as if he were ready to go on a rampage. You knew your husband and you knew that he wouldn’t so much as hurt a fly but you had truly tested his patience and he was done with the mild mannered gestures. If you didn’t want to listen, then he’d make you in his own way…starting by restricting your limbs. Ensuring that you couldn’t do anything without his explicit permission.
“Just in case you want to get any bright ideas, darling..” reaching over across you, Reiner retrieved the leather strap he had used to fasten his Wranglers earlier in the afternoon. He’d used the belt as a makeshift collar to keep you in place. Stringing it around your neck as somewhat of a leash and binding your hands with a pair of your panties behind your back. With your face buried in the mattress, you’d find yourself ringling around instinctively; more so to feign off the urges arising between your legs. You’d never admit it but it certainly turned you on to be handled like this. Even so, your husband could give a damn less about your enjoyment. He was determined to prove a point and drill into that thick skull of yours. Chewing at your lower lip, (y/n) would be met with the harsh slap of his rough, calloused hands; making direct contact with your bubbly cheeks. “Didn't I tell ya’ no moving unless I say so?” That deep southern drawl ringing out into your ear as he stood behind you. That burly, muscular frame half nude and well on its way to being completely in the buff. He had plans prior, however..to get you stripped first.
“Damnit, pound cake…just what am I going to do with you?…” rhetorically posing the question, and knowing damn well better than to hear a response in return, because you’d surely regret it if he did! So sitting obediently…reaching the blatant epiphany that you had bitten off far more than you could chew. He was no mood in to talk or fight so he’d opt for the next best thing and that was fucking you until every bit of frustration had left his body!
“I think I know where to start..”
the sound of his voice sent shivers creeping up your spine because it wasn’t becoming of your husband and rather a man who was ready to eat you alive. Suddenly, you’d feel the sharp tug of that belt and your head raise from the mattress. In a moment’s notice, the two of you had switched positions and you found yourself near the floor and Reiner was seated in your place. “On your knees..hurry up.” The gruffly sound of his voice sharp and stern, a clear indication that he wasn’t playing anymore. You’d be met with the snap of his fingers and a sharp pull yet again when you didn’t move fast enough for his liking. But it was effective because you were now seated before him like an obedient pet. Awaiting his every word and order. There was a certain air of dominance about him..an energy that exuded confidence and set his dominion over you. That beard formed and shaped perfectly around his face, his voice deep..grovely from being tired and earlier years of smoking cigarettes. You’d never seen your precious Reiner look so roguish…but you loved it! Bringing a hand up to your face, he’d slowly circulate near your chin with a thumb brushing across your lips. Parting them, admiring the beautiful shape..the plumpness and darkish hue surrounding the pouty pink center. He could sit here all night and gaze at them. But alas, he felt they served a much better purpose at the moment. Shoving that thumb between them, he’d glide it into your mouth, allowing you to suckle. A mere preview of what was to come moments later. Those doe eyes fixated on him, nearly breaking his resolve right there but he was determined not to falter but instead, teach you a much needed lesson. “Mmm…nice and slow. Suck on my fingers.” Swiftly adding an additional one to the fray, allowing the second and third digits to become sucked in by your jaws. In essence, he was stretching them out. Preparing the orifice for his use..for his much deserved pleasure.
whilst he did so, he’d use the opposite hand that was still brandishing your leash to work the elastic of his waistband down until that erection was free from its confines. A tiny dampened spot had formed on the outside from what you assumed to be precum. Truthfully, it didn’t take much for him to become aroused in your presence. Hell, even with fury in his eyes, he was still madly infatuated with you. But he had to be steadfast if he was going to make his point. Prying those jaws open with his index and middle digits, Reiner pulled them apart whilst bucking his hips forward and promptly shoving himself inside. The swollen tip of his cock resting idly on your tongue before he began to push further. The faint ‘pop’ when he reached past your first row of teeth. Eventually, his grasp would tighten on that belt and your head would begin to snatch back and forth… faint gurgling arising once he sped up. It seemed as if he was in an entirely different zone right now..one you had undoubtedly put him into..
“Hey, look up…”
the stern command followed by a yank on that leash..which in turn led to your eyes being stretched beyond their limits to ensure that your full attention was devoted to him.
“There we go, sugar…now stay still and let me use that pretty little throat..” by this time, Reiner was steadfast in using you for his full, unadulterated pleasure. Pounding into that oral cavity with brute force until you started to emit strings of saliva..he’d send them rolling down your chin as he thrusted upwards into your mouth. “Fuuuck…that slutty little mouth of yours is good for something..” taking the opportunity to not only jab at you but establish your place for the time being. But alas, it seemed that not even he could withstand the pressure of your jaws coiled around him and withdrew with haste. Taking the sides of your face into his calloused palms, he’d examine the aftermath of his work with a proud smile. Spit smeared all around your face and a glare that signaled you being in a daze..such a pretty sight. By then, the remnants of your sloppy face fucking had trickled down to your breasts and needless to say, he was rather aroused by the sight. So much so, his cock would twitch on instinct. However, his work was far from finished..
“On your feet..I’m not done with you..”
on one hand, you wanted to test your luck right now and defy, talk out of turn for one final plea of forgiveness. On the other, you wanted to obey his every command. Follow through and be good because truth be told, you loved this side of him. This passionate aggression that stemmed only from a place of pure infatuation and love for you. He was sending a message: you were his and no one else’s. They could stare and admire all they wanted but at the end of the day, he was the only one that deserved to see you in such a light. It was a nasty habit of his..jealousy and insecurity but not to an extensive degree. Either way, you rose to your feet with a grin on your lips that truly couldn’t have been helped. Upon standing up, he’d take a moment to glance over your body..the vulnerable and submissive state you were in pleased him far more than he was letting on. In hindsight, he could’ve just allowed you to go out with your girls sporting the skimpy fit, because nine times out of ten, you would’ve came back intoxicated and ready to fuck him silly anyways but this done just fine!..
“Damnit, baby..you have no idea what you do to me..making me act all crazy…”
muttering through deep grunts, sucking his teeth as those erect nipples peaked through the fishnet top you were sporting underneath your shirt for the planned ensemble. Instead he was met with the flimsy material and your big, voluminous breasts. He’d pinch one nipple and suck at the other like a man starved. He was ravenous..wanting to take claim of each orifice on your body. But for now, those tits were his only fixation. After groping you to his leisure, he’d tear open that thin shirt and send them bouncing out. He was so unhinged at the moment, he couldn’t decide what and where he wanted to take you next. Suddenly, he’d shove three fingers between your lips, thrusting them back and forth until he cast out more gurgling noises and trails of spit, which promptly glided down to your chest. “Oh my gosh…” muttering through your pacified state..Reiner couldn’t help but to release another primal grunt. Becoming so turned on by your current appearance. “That’s my pretty little slut…choke on those fucking fingers.”
sharply snatching your head back, you’d come up gasping and glaring at him with somewhat of a smile. By now, that erect member was twitching; spouting precum from the tip..you were afraid he’d burst any minute! “You like that, huh? You like when I treat you like this, don’t you?” Grasping your chin in one hand and tugging at the belt with the other. He’d give you two solid taps across the cheek whilst choking you. The way your tongue splayed out and your face beamed with excitement..the answer to his question was blatantly obvious…
“Y-yes!” “Yes, what?..” questioning once more in that stern tone. “Yes, daddy..I love it.” Which seemed to satisfy his ego well enough. Even so, he wasn’t finished by a long shot. He couldn’t stop until the lesson was good and instilled in that cute little head of yours..that you didn’t run a damn thing around here! “Good girl..that’s what I wanna hear..” rewarding you shortly thereafter with a kiss. The only moment of compassion he’d displayed since starting. Taking hold of your breasts again, he’d place those big hands on either side before scooting closer and maneuvering his cock in between them. “Oh fuck..look at that, baby..yes..” whispering almost to himself, enamored with how those round, perky breasts just cradled him so nicely. That supple flesh squished around his shaft and massaged the skin. Almost as if they were made for him. He’d buck his hips up, groaning and whimpering the further he went..he could tell by the glint in your eyes that you were enjoying this equally as much. His obedient little slut..allowing him to take you as he saw fit. He was glad that you hadn’t complied and gave him such grief because it made this all the more fun..not to be mistaken, he’d never want to harm his sweet, precious wife but something told him that you liked this side of his personality. The only that was willing to get so out of character behind you, he’d surprise both you and himself. Speeding up those sharp strokes, Reiner bucked his hips, commanding you to drool the entire time. Your brain had practically gone blank, only following his commands from here forth. “Shit!..’m gonna come, baby. Hold still—“ what followed was a loud grunt and spouting of his warm seed all across your face and tits, making for a beautiful sight. He’d take a moment to examine his handy work; even pinching your nipples once more..
“Look at you..so pretty covered in my cum..” sticking his thumb between your lips yet again; causing an innocuous stare as those doe eyes fixated on him. Without another word, he’d snatch you up and pull you by the arm the rest of the way until that cute little torso was splayed over his lap. His knees resting in your tummy until he gets you adjusted… “Rei…please..” Your shrill cries served as nothing more than menial noise, going in one ear and right out of the next. He didn’t care how loud you whimpered, moaned or cried. It was of none of his concern..so as long as you continued doing as he asked. “We’ve talked about this, darling..don’t open that mouth again until I tell you—“ the sentence ended with a sharp smack to your ass, which made you yelp. “You lost that privilege when you decided to embarrass me for your little friends. You’re not in control. Do I make myself clear?” His voice was so deep and menacing, almost as if he were another person at the moment. Squirming around; antsy at the sensation of him treating you like a mere object. Responding with a nod..he’d smirk and take hold of your leash again, reeling up his opposite hand to spank you.
“Good, now count.” The first hit came down colliding with your asscheeks, causing you to jolt but the number came out. “O-one.” The next followed, getting even harder than the previous one. You were trying to stay still but the stinging sensations were making you inconsolable. Not because they were painful. But because they felt so fucking good! All of this felt euphoric..surreal even. Your precious, sweet Rei fucking you like a mere whore? It was more than you could imagine. Trying to conceal your smile, (y/n) resumed counting and had reached five when he paused momentarily. He wanted to take a second and examine your body. Truly admire those curves, those lines and flawless skin. He loved how perfectly that ass sat and how it jiggled as soon as his hand made contact. He loved that you barely even contained a gag reflex even when he was forcefully fucking your throat and the fact that you were a dripping mess from all of these antics! It was no wonder that he wanted you to himself. It seemed that his hardcore method of foreplay and revenge had gotten you so turned on..it was pooling around his leg.
“You like this, don’t you…your pussy’s ‘s wet, yer’ dripping down my fucking leg. At least try to pretend to have some shame, baby.”
cackling to himself as he gave you two hard smacks consecutively. From the look on your face, that much was blatantly obvious! You couldn’t fake it anymore and he certainly couldn’t pretend that he was still angry. He just needed you in the worst way right now.. “Don’t worry..lucky f’r you, I’m not good at holding back either. So let’s just cut the bullshit and get what we both want..”
for the first time since this entire ordeal, Reiner would gently caress you; handling you with far more care than he had prior. However, it wasn’t going to last for long because once he got you onto the bed, tearing open your tights, it was game. Your husband would swiftly saddle up behind you, grasping your ass and hips..kneading his fingers into the soft flesh as a means to saddle up behind you. Once he did, you’d outstretch your cuffed wrists, gripping at the sheets and subtly shake your ass..letting him know that this pussy was his for the taking! “But first, I need to hear ya’ beg..tell me how bad you need it, baby..” with a wide beam, lips curled up..Reiner took the opportunity to just sit and admire that soft ripple whilst you pleaded for him. As well as teasing himself against your slit. “Please..fuck me. Give me all that dick, baby..” and without haste, he’d grant your wish. “Well since you asked so nicely..” cackling softly before easing himself inside. The initial sensation caused an audible gasp to erupt from both of you. The feeling was insurmountable as it had also been a week since the two of you had engaged in any sexual activities and needless to say, the tension of this situation, along with the buildup was going to make this all the more satisfying. In that moment, Reiner’s head would fall forward as he mounted you with a foot placed into the mattress and yours would simultaneously become pulled backwards by your hair. “Oh fuck!…” crying out in pleasure when those thrusts inevitably began. Those puffy lips and tight flesh immediately took hold of him; gripping around his cock and emitting a sheath of cream. Smacking noises soon ensued and your mellifluous moans would join the noisy fray. Placing a thumb in between your bubbly cheeks, he’d reign you in and guide you back and forth as he saw fit. “C’mon, take it. Take it like a good little slut.” With all that you had, you’d manage to take hold of the sheets as a form of leverage and comfort. Gripping them and a nearby pillow to stifle your moans but you’d soon learn that his grace had sadly run out! “Did I tell ya’ you could bite that fuckin’ pillow? Let me hear you, darling. All that mouth ya’ had earlier.. ‘matter fact…say it.” His words spewing like venom from a snake’s mouth, he’d hiss into your ear whilst now reigning you in by the neck. “Tell me yer’ sorry. Right now.” And from the immense pressure of the brutal fucking; each one harder than the last and hitting your sensitive spot with precision, you had no choice but to cave.
“ ‘m sorry, daddy! So fucking sorry..oh my gosh!” Your legs were quaking, only mere seconds from collapsing to the bed as he drilled you into the mattress. He was akin to that of a rabid animal, mounting and claiming its prey..even huffing and grunting. It was apparent that the two of you were nearing your peaks and there was no slowing down. That fertile cunt gripping him and refusing to let go. That swollen dick stretching your insides..it was only a matter of time. “C’mon, baby…give me what I want. Do it..” and there was no question of what ‘it’ was: that inevitable rain of sticky, warm juices that came splattering down your thighs, the sheets and his shaft. “Sh-shit! Oh my gosh…” falling flat to the mattress, unable to support your weight, he’d promptly get you into a prone bone position and continue thrusting until he too reached that climatic threshold. Veins had begun protruding from his forehead and his grasp was slipping but he’d hold out long enough just to pump twice more..
“Ohhhh…fuck..”
repressing the words in a low growl before it ascended into a higher pitch as that second load came pouring out. A rope of steamy, white fluid flowed into your womb. Even earning your encouragement. “Come in me..just like that…” the ever so sultry command caused him to twitch as he finished out his orgasm. It was apparent that he was spent and very much over whatever grief you had caused him. Damn that photo, damn that skirt and damn your homegirls..this was the only place either of you wanted to be! Outside interferences or people no longer mattered. Reaching around to unlatch your throat and those wrists from their bondage, your normal, doting husband had flipped you over to examine you..ensuring that you were okay.
“C’mere. Lemme look at you..” caressing your face with loving strokes. That was the man you knew and loved. Always so attentive and empathetic. After coming down from both of your highs, you’d wind up entangled in a very passionate makeout session. “Are you okay, sugar? You know I’d never want to hurt ya..’” “Much better, baby..listen, I’m so sorry, Rei. I should’ve never worn that stupid outfit. I knew how much it hurt your feelings and I should’ve respected that.” But once again, he no longer cared. None of that mattered. All that he wanted was for you to know just how much he cared for you.. “..don’t worry ‘yerself about that. I love you and nothing could change the way I feel about you, sweetheart.” You were glad to know that all was forgiven but it was safe to say..
that your lesson was learned!
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rishiguro · 7 months
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HAIKYUU CHARACTERS WHEN YOU‘RE SICK
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a/n: hello flu season, you make me write purely self-indulgent shit because i turn into a needy child when i‘m sick
warnings: mentions of meds. one f-bomb.
jjk version
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SUNA RINTAROU: can’t help but tease you for it
“i told you to put on a jacket and dry your hair before you go out,” he muttered amused as he watched you huddle into the living room, wrapped into your thick blanket. you rolled your eyes at him, to which he immediately held up his hands. “don’t look at me like that, you know i’m right” you couldn’t help but pout at him, whispering curses annoyed. “you know damn well that that’s not how viruses work,” you grumbled. “then why are you sick now?” he retorted, smiling. “fuck you” you turned around to go back into the bedroom. “oh, come here you big baby” your boyfriend opened his arms and gestured you to come closer, offering to cuddle with you. “i hate you sometimes,” you muttered under your breath as you walked up to him, falling into his arms and laying your head on his chest. “i love you too”
USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI: decks you in with every remedy he can get his hands on
he looked at all the meds on the table after carefully reciting the benefits of each one word-by-word, remembering everything the pharmacist had told him. “are you sure you got everything you need? i can run out to the pharmacy again, it’s not a problem,” he offered after a short pause. you let out a quiet laugh, nodding confidently. “i’m sure i’ll be fine, ‘toshi. promise,” you stated, reaching out to grab his hand. “okay” admittedly, it was adorable just how overboard he went the second he heard you sneeze. you probably just caught the flu somewhere, nothing that couldn’t be cured with rest and maybe a few meds. when you texted your boyfriend, asking him to pick some up for you, you surely didn’t expect him to enter your home with the whole pharmacy in his bag. you grinned, your heart warming at his silly, but incredibly caring gesture. “what are you laughing at?” he asked confused. “nothing,” you assured him quickly, giving his cheek a peck before leaning into him and his warmth. “i’m just happy you’re here with me”
KITA SHINSUKE: keeps a respectable distance but doesn’t fail to make you feel cared for
following a soft knock, the door to your dim bedroom was opened with your boyfriend stepping into the room. “i made you some tea” he spoke softly as he put the mug down on the small table next to you. he proceeded to quickly feel your forehead, nodding when he realizes that your temperature has gone down. “and some soup is currently cooking on the stove, i’m gonna bring you a bowl later” he smiled softly at you, giving your forehead a peck. “i’ll be in the living room, yeah?” he turned to leave, making sure to not close the door behind him. he then turned around and took another look at you. “the door’s open, love, so just say the word and i’ll be here, no need to strain your voice” you smiled weakly at him. “thank you” he nodded. “i love you,” he whispered to you. “i love you too,” you replied. he turned to leave, but stopped when you called out to him again. he hummed, waiting for you to continue. “can i get a hug? just a quick one,” you mumbled, almost sounding shy, “please” he smiled, immediately making his way over to you. “you don’t have to ask, anything you want”
HINATA SHOYO: latches himself onto you and ends up getting sick too
you groaned, trying to push him off you, but finishing yourself too weak to actually do so. his head was buried in the crook of your neck with his arms wrapped tightly secured around you, not wanting to let you go. you sighed in defeat. “shoyo, i love you, but you’re gonna get sick of you keep doing this” “nuh-uh” he denied, shaking his head, his hair tickling your skin. “yes you will,” you insisted, your hands however finding their way on his back, softly running your nails over it. he kept denying it however and soon after you couldn’t find the energy to keep arguing with him — and you really didn’t want him to leave (not like you’d tell him and give him an actual reason to stay). and just about two weeks later, you’d be the one tending to him, not failing to tease him about his sickness. it didn’t matter to him though, he’d get sick a thousand times over if it meant he could stay close to you.
KUROO TETSUROU: loves to berate you but will drop everything to take care of you
he groaned when he saw you in his field of vision, raising his eyebrows at you with hands stemmed into his hips. “i told you to stay under the covers” he shook his head, pointing into the direction of your bedroom and motioning you towards it. “back under the blanket, come on” you whined. “it’s too hot, tetsurou, i’m sweating” you shivered as you spoke, your arms wrapping around your midsection. honestly, you just needed to see some things that weren’t the walls or the ceiling of your room. you’d take anything at this point. “that’s the point! you need to sweat it out!” he claimed, gesturing with his hands. “can i at least take a shower first? or just get changed? i feel disgusting, my clothes are literally drenched in sweat,” you spoke after sighing in defeat. there was no point in arguing with him, especially when you knew that he was right. “hop into the bathroom, i’ll get you some new pajamas”
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reblog & comment to support your fanfic writers !
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year
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𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓
pairing: max phillips x f!reader
genre: smut, office romance
word count: 5k
summary: a week after walking in on your boyfriend fucking someone else, Max gives you the day off. You leave, unaware that you dropped your watch. Much to your surprise, he brings it to you. Your relationship with him escalates in the following days.
warnings: office sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, use of 'sir' & 'good girl', piv, dom/sub dynamics, very mild degradation (he calls you his cocksleeve like once), dumbification if you squint, soft!max at times
a/n: I drafted this months ago and only now I finally finished the fic, I have no idea why I waited this long especially since I'd written most of it back then but other wips got in the way--sorry Max lmaodvdf this is my first time writing for you and I hope I did you justice 🖤 I rewatched his scenes and I'm still so horny for this man it's making me look stupid
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Max’s office is the nicest one of everyone who works in this building, albeit a bit darker. There’s a succulent on his desk that reminds you of a translucent star and you can’t seem to draw your eyes away from it. His voice is smooth and melodic but you aren’t really listening. Your hand moves over to your watch, feeling the coolness of metal underneath your fingertips. It’s nice. 
It’s safe to say that you’re not really paying attention to anything. 
Your eyes are wet still, a sting every time you dare to blink. It’s been a week since you found your boyfriend screwing someone else on the couch in the living room. The image still lingers in your head, taunting you. 
While you stared, unblinking as they scrambled for their clothes, all you could think of how happy you were that they didn’t use the bedroom. 
Now that the relationship is over it’s easier to see the red flags. The way he belittled you, your passions, the things that you enjoyed. Your body, your cooking, anything you did was never enough for him. It was an open invitation to mock you for who you were. And that was the least of it, he never touched you, and you had to beg him for sex— not in the fun kind if you might add. You feel so fucking stupid for trying to make him happy.
“You’re not listening are you?” 
You flinch upon hearing the question, eyes finally snapping away from the succulent and turning to Max. You didn’t mean to be so obvious about it. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. . . Great, another person you couldn’t make happy no matter what you did. 
“You’ve been like this all week. Is there something going on? You can take leave if you need to, you’re not really much use like this anyway” 
His words sting but you can’t really blame him for it. Though you did find it funny that as an immortal he was so pressed for time. 
“Sorry,” you say and he looks at you, really looks at you. Brown eyes move from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his own. “I’ll do better just some... personal stuff going on,”
“Family?” 
“Shitty breakup.” 
“Oh.”
Max appreciates bluntness. You figured that one out on your first day here. He isn’t a fan of keeping anything that might affect your work bottled up. He doesn't like the guessing game either. If there’s something wrong he wants to know and if he can he’ll fix it. Not that he can really fix a broken heart. 
He suddenly stands up, making his way around the desk. He lends against the edge, hands on his lap. Instictecly you curl your fingers around the armrests. Max is pretty docile for the most part, unless he’s hungry. But the way he’s looking down at you, brows relaxed and a faint smile tugging at his lips, it makes your heart drop. He’s a walking corpse but his eyes are more alive compared to most people you’ve met. 
“I’m sure you’ll be happier without commitment wearing you down,” he says, voice dropping, barely above a whisper. You shudder and fail to see the way his fingers twitch. “Don’t think about it, relax, sweetheart.” 
And you do. It’s like warm water dancing over your skin. Your shoulders slump, your body limply sinking into the chair. A lazy smile spreads across your lips and he smiles back, teeth winking at you between his plush lips. “That’s it. You’re not feeling anything  now, are you?” 
You giggle, shaking your head. Even your heartbeat slows, the tips of your fingers tingling with pleasure—
You blink, pinching your brows, you slowly roll your shoulders and hear your bones crack. Max is gazing at you with utmost curiosity, thumbs drumming silently.
Then it hits you. The fucker is using his powers. Fucking vampires. 
“Stop it,” you hiss, your body relaxed but mind racing. He rolls his eyes and waves his hand as a sign of dismissal. The tension that had disappeared from your muscles return at full force, and you jolt. “You shouldn’t do that,” 
“I was trying to help,” he answers without a care in his tone. He buttons his vest and gestures with his head to the door. “Take the rest of the day off. Sort yourself. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” 
“But—” 
“Just go. It’s fine,” when you fail to look convinced, he pouts and draws a cross over his chest. Ironic. “I swear. Now go, take the day off, collect your thoughts or whatever you need to do,” 
You leave without pointing out the irony of him making a cross over his non-beating heart. You’ve worked long enough to know that if the boss wants you to take the time off, you take the time off. 
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Max drags his palm over his face, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he hops off the desk and turns to look at the empty seat you left behind. He’s not sure if he should be condoning this kind of behavior. He doesn’t want people barging in here asking to leave with the most minuscule of problems. But it isn’t typical of you to be distracted so he decided that you earned it. 
He’s curious about what kind of man would be stupid enough to leave you, let alone make you look that sad. Not that it’s any of his business. 
Max is amidst turning on his heel when he sees it. A small sparkle on the carpeted floor. Cocking an eyebrow, he leans over with his hands in his pockets. A watch? 
That’s right you had a watch when you came in, you were playing with it while he was going over the weekly sales. You must’ve dropped it. Looking almost bored, he scoops it off the floor and stares at it. He sees your initials written on the back, a pretty, delicate little accessory. 
Surely you would miss it. He knows your address due to dragging your drunk self back home after an office party— so maybe he should bring it to you. Max sighs and flips the watch over. He has time to make a quick stop. 
He leaves the office with the watch snug in his pocket. It really isn’t his style to be nice, or remorseful, but he does feel a tad guilty using his powers on you. He genuinely did think he was doing some good. It did look like you were feeling better until you broke out of the trance. 
Max steps into the elevator. The tedious music loud and scratching his ears as always. 
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Taking a day off isn’t going as smoothly as you had hoped. 
Initially, you thought you would binge your favorite shows and eat a bucket of ice cream. Instead, you ended up staring blankly at the ceiling, arm dangling out from the side of the bed. It’s a shitty feeling. Your heart feels heavy and uncomfortable. Maybe Max taking away the pain wasn’t so bad after all? 
There’s a loud knock on the door and you jump. Every bone in your body aches, your heart beating fast as you head to the living room. You’re praying to every god you know that it’s not your ex. You don’t want to deal with him. Especially not today. 
You take a deep, calming, breath. It’s okay. He wouldn’t just show up now, would he? Stupidly enough you don’t look through the peephole before yanking the door open, the person that lurks on the other side takes you by surprise completely. 
It’s Max. 
What the hell? 
“Hiii,” he says with a smug grin. He lifts something to your line of vision and it takes you a moment to recognize your watch. “Found this, thought you might miss it.” 
Blinking, you open your palms and he drops it. It feels like a dream. “Uh…thanks,” 
“You’re welcome,” he peers over your shoulder, looking into the dimly lit apartment. “So how’s your day off going?” 
“Not as fun as I hoped,” you give him a bittersweet smile. His eyes meet yours, and you see your reflection in them, so bright. “Do you want to come inside?” 
A shudder climbs your spine when something dark crosses his face, eyes becoming sharper. Your stomach churns and you swallow, fingers tightening around the watch. 
“Would love to” he chirps, practically jumping over the threshold. “Thank you for the invite, much obliged.” 
“You really can’t come in without being invited?” you ask, closing the door with a push of your heel. 
“Nope,” he answers, emphasizing on the p. “Why do you think I left you at the door after the party? You were too drunk to say ‘come in’ I basically had to push you through the door just so you could crawl the rest of the way to your bedroom,” 
“I honestly thought you were just being an asshole,” 
He scoffs, “I am an asshole. Just not to the people I like,” 
He drops down to the couch, which in return makes your stomach sink. You really need to burn it, you don’t think you can have it in your apartment anymore. You sit across from him, placing the watch neatly on top of the coffee table. “I wasn’t aware you liked me,” 
“Let’s say tolerate. I like your work ethic.” 
“Thank you?” you answer, unsure.
“You’re very much welcome.” 
You’re not sure why you invited him inside. He doesn’t drink coffee unless it’s morning, and he doesn’t really like to eat as far as you could tell. The silence is deafening and uncomfortable. You part your lips to ask if he would like tea or anything else but he beats you to it, gaze fixated on you. 
“So, how did it happen?” 
Your throat goes dry, “What?” 
“The break-up,” he shrugs and leans back into the couch, you internally cringe. “Do you want me to break his neck or something?” 
“What—No!” you’re horrified but can’t ignore the way warmth blossoms in your chest. You’re highly aware that he’s joking, however, it’s still a nice thought that someone actually cares enough to get pissed about it. “Where did that even come from?” 
“I don’t know, I’m not sure I like seeing you so sad. It’s unnerving.” 
“Sorry that my misfortune is bothering you,” you answer, crossing your arms. “He cheated on me, and I’m only now realizing how shitty he was.” 
“Ouch.” 
“Yeah,” 
“So I do need to break his neck then?” 
You laugh. 
You aren’t expecting it, but here you are rubbing tears from your eyes as you laugh with your whole body. There’s just something about the way he said it; as if it was the most normal thing to do. He seems to enjoy the way you laugh. Smiling wide and bright, watching you with fond eyes. 
After minutes, your laughter starts to die down, softening into breathless giggles. You’re surprised to find that Max is still smiling at you, no smugness, no cockiness, just an earnest smile. 
“Thank I really needed that,” you say, heat building at the base of your spine. “Sorry if I worried you. It’s been a bit rough lately.” 
“We can’t all be perfect every second,” he grins, he flattens his palms over his thighs, moving them up and down. Your breath hitches, eyes involuntarily dropping to his crotch. You’re flustered all of a sudden. He tilts his head, tongue poking out of his cheek as he gives you an open-mouthed smirk. “See something you like, sweetheart?” 
Your eyes snap to his face, cheeks burning, “Nope. Not—Not at all,” 
He leans forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. There’s a table in between but you feel as if he’s a breath away. You swallow, goosebumps rousing over your skin. 
“You know I can smell it right?” he purrs. “I can smell the arousal gathering between your legs. I can hear the way your heart is beating… That asshole had no idea how to fuck you properly did he?” 
Your pussy bottoms out at his words. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction that he’s right, you don’t want him to know how badly you want him inside. For him to whisper praises into your ear as you squirm around his cock. You lick your lips. He’s not using his powers, you can tell. Yet you still want to blame it on the fact that he’s doing something to make you feel so hot and bothered. But it’s not him, just you. 
You’re not sure when you started to have the hots for your boss, but clearly, there was something there. Lurking in the darkness of your mind.
“Look at you,” he coos, eyes raking over your body. “So sweet and afraid. Let me be the first one to say that he didn’t deserve you. Not in the slightest,” 
“Max…” you warn. 
“Yeah…?” he mimics your tone, smile somehow wider. “Would you want to get coffee before work tomorrow morning?” 
The question catches you by surprise. You observe him for a brief moment, he seems dead serious—at least the amount of serious Max Phillips can be. 
You nod.
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Your first early morning coffee date with Max goes exactly how you expect it to go. You pay for both coffees as a thank you. He found it unnecessary but grumbled a thanks anyway. He talks a lot about work; about sales, about his time in Romania. But mostly work. You do appreciate the distraction though so you don’t complain. You pitch in, telling him ways the company could improve but also adding that you want to quit one day and do something better with your life. 
The following mornings follow the same pattern. Mostly conversations about work, and sipping coffee. That is until Tuesday rolls around. It’s an especially cold morning and you find yourself huddling closer to him as the two of you sat on the bench. He doesn’t really seem bothered by the cold, which makes sense since he’s cold-blooded. 
Max’s eyes drop to your trembling fingers that were curled helplessly around the coffee cup. You notice his frown, his gaze lifts back up to meet your eyes. “Do you want to go inside?” 
“No, I’m good. Besides it’s too early to start working.” 
He chuckles, shaking his head. “We do get here early don’t we.” 
“I mean…we don’t have to. But I have been enjoying our mornings.” 
“So have I,” he chews on his bottom lip, instinctively moving closer to you when he feels a shudder crawling up your spine. “It sucks that I can’t really warm you up—being undead and all— This would be the perfect moment to hold your hands.” 
Funnily enough, he does manage to warm you up. You look down at your hands, the cup only half full, you place it to the side. Max truly had been a balm to your broken heart these past couple of days. He never got overly flirtatious again as he did in your apartment, some part of you is disappointed that he didn’t. 
“You can—” you lick your lips, the wetness furthering the chill. “You can still do that. If you want to.” 
“Yeah?” he moves his jaw, eyes dropping to your lips. “You’ll be colder.” 
“I think it might be worth the risk.” 
Max brings your hands to his lips, brushing your knuckles and kissing each finger individually. You shudder. He wasn’t wrong, he was awfully cold. But you weren’t wrong either, it’s worth it. Hundred percent. His mouth moves over the back of your hand in the shape of waves, the pit in your stomach rolling, and butterflies fluttering in your chest. His eyes meet yours and you’re mesmerized by him. His eyebrows raise, lips kissing the curve of your wrist, laying a path to the inside, he drags his teeth over the skin right above the vein. 
A sudden fear spikes from your feet to your neck. He wouldn’t, would he? 
“Are you afraid of me?” the question is whispered with a breath into your skin. Everywhere except the tip of your nose is warm. He looks at you with heavy eyelids, lashes kissing his cheeks every time he blinks. 
You don’t have an answer, but you know what he needs to hear. 
“I’m not.” 
Before you can blink his lips mold into yours. He traces the seam of your mouth with his tongue eagerly, and you part your lips, allowing him to taste and dominate. With both hands he holds your wrists firmly, pulling you close until you’re basically flush against him. Max inhales as he presses deeper, licking the inside of your mouth and swallowing your whines. 
He breaks away from you with a smile, you see the flash of fangs.
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You gently knock on the already open door. Max is positively exhausted. His eyes snap from his computer to you, he sighs and signals you to enter with two fingers. You close the door when you enter. 
“Are we still good for dinner?” you ask, feeling slightly foolish now that you were standing in the middle of his office. 
“Sorry baby, not today. These assholes managed to mix everything up, need to fix all that so I’m going to be here late,” 
You try very hard not to look disappointed. You already know you failed when you feel your bottom lip starting to quiver. You ball your hands into weak fists, pushing your nails into your skin. He notices, a moment of worry crosses his face. 
Tonight wasn’t really a date, or anything important. It was just dinner. 
Then why are you so upset?
You neither move away nor lean in as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs, and you exhale at the way you can feel his chest move underneath you. 
“Nothing, just—Don’t worry about it. I’m just being clingy. I know you’re busy,” 
“Clingy? Oh, sweetheart,” he rolls his chair back and slaps his thigh. “Come, sit on my lap.” 
“Uh…” your eyes flit between his spread legs and his face. “Excuse me?” 
“Just get your gorgeous self over here.” 
Swallowing, your legs move on their own. Your heart does somersaults in your chest. His smile never falters as you slowly lower yourself down, feeling his frame under you. Your insides clench. Your arms shake. You feel his breath on your neck when he guides your arms around his neck. He presses his lips where your neck and chest meet, heat coils in your stomach. 
“Max…” 
“You could never be too clingy,” he murmurs. “And even if you were I would love it. I’m actually really happy you came over, I was starting to think this thing between us was going nowhere.” 
“You want it…to go somewhere?” 
“Of course, I fucking do,” he snaps, looking up, glaring at you. “Do you think I come here that early just to drink coffee—I like spending time with you.” 
You feel yourself start to tremble as his hands move up your thighs and cup your ass. He squeezes gently and you gasp, your skin prickling under his touch. His lips move away from your neck, pressing soft kisses up your jaw until he reaches your ear.
"I want to take this further," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to fuck you, sweetheart. Bend you over this table and make you scream my name because I’m sure haven’t been screaming anything for a while."
His hands move around your body, tracing the line of your spine and the curves of your hips. His touch is gentle and yet rough at the same time, your heart beats faster with each passing second. You melt into him, wanting more, wanting him.
“I want to feel your wet cunt around my cock,” he groans, dragging his teeth down the column of your neck. His voice drops an octave. “Let me fuck you sweet thing.”
You pause for a moment, and then you nod, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Yes," you whisper. "Yes, I want this too."
Max smiles, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss. He nips at your bottom lip before pulling it and slipping his tongue into your mouth. Pulling you closer—inhaling you—he cups your head from both sides, and groans into your mouth. You feel the growing wetness between your legs, your body having a mind of its own, you grind down on him, shuddering as you feel the hard length under his pants. 
“Needy,” he tuts, gripping you by the neck. You hiss when he yanks you back, the rest of your body falling still. “You’ll take what I give you. Is that clear?” 
“Yes—” you bite the inside of your cheek. “Yes, sir.” 
Your cheeks burn as his eyes widen momentarily. Then he closes them, taking a steady breath, he cocks his head to the side. A soft hum echoes in his throat. 
“I like that,” he purrs, opening his eyes. “Say that again.” 
“Please, sir.” you choke out.
Max's grip tightens as he bends you over the office table. You gasp, your skin hot as he shoves your pants down to your knees. While you kick them off, you hear a zipper, feel the weight of his cock on the top of your ass. Your face is directly staring at the door— If someone were to waltz in, the first sight to greet them would see you taking your boss’s cock. However, you can hardly care when his warm breath fans your neck, his breathing uneven and rushed. 
He slips his hands down and cups your ass, kneading and squeezing as he shoves you further against the cold desk. 
"You look so sexy like this," he growls, his cock pushing against your ass as he presses himself against you. His hands move up your body, and he starts tugging at the buttons of your shirt, loosening them one by one. His lips brush against your ear and you shiver in anticipation as his hot breath tickles your skin.
"Say. It." 
It’s a threat and some wicked part of you is tempted to exhaust his patience. His hands move down your body, and his fingers start to tease your nipples as he traces circles around them. Then, when you don’t answer, he pinches them harshly. 
Your body jerks at the sharp pain, an acute moan rips from your throat. 
“Fuck me, sir. Please.” 
“You sound so good like this, begging for my cock,” he purrs. “I’m going to go easy on you today sweetheart, but don’t expect me to always be so nice.” 
He slides his hands lower, and his fingers slip between your legs, teasing and caressing your wetness. Your eyes roll back as his fingers start to penetrate you, and you grind downs in search of more. Wanting him deeper, wanting more of him. 
“So fucking wet,” he coos, he pulls out his fingers, smearing wet streaks across your hips. He nudges his cock between your folds and rocks his hips, the catches against your clit and a loud moan rips from your throat. “That’s my girl, and you thought I didn’t want this. What kind of idiot wouldn’t want this pretty cunt? Hmm?” 
“Max, please. . .” 
You hear the growl that rattles his chest. Closing his eyes, he cocks his head to the side, tongue tracing the edges of his fangs. “I really love hearing you beg,” he groans. “And the blood rush in your veins.” 
Your breath catches in your throat—and in one smooth thrust, he slips inside of you. You clutch the edges of the desk, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Suddenly the rest of the world blurs and it’s just you and him. He stretches you perfectly, his length deep enough to hit all the right spots. His hands smooth a path up your spine. You practically purr at the feeling. You whimper, and when you do, his lips are on your neck in an instant. His body a cool, yet comfortable, blanket on top of you. 
“Good girl. Look at you, being so obedient,” he licks the salt off your skin. “You feel so good, baby. The perfect cocksleeve for the boss.” 
“Oh god—” you choke out. You have no idea how to respond to that, but your body sure does. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him tight. His breath hitches. You feel him straighten behind you, his hands press you down from the waist and you can’t help the small squeal that parts your lips. 
He’s restraining himself. You can tell by the way his hips twitches, eager to bury more of himself into you. His nails bite into your skin and instinctively you raise your hips. “Maaax,” you moan. “Fuck me, please. I can take it.” 
“You can, can’t you?” he mutters, sounding almost impressed. “My perfect girl. You’ll take everything I’ll give you?” 
You breathe out, “Yes—” 
And he gives you everything. 
Every thrust knocks the air from your lungs. Somewhere on the desk your arm hits a stack of papers and they fly everywhere, making a mess on the floor. Max doesn’t stop. He jackhammers into you, splitting you into two. It never felt this intense before. Never. You struggle to breathe and with every snap of his hips, you feel slick dripping down your thighs. Max groans as he wraps his fingers around your neck, pulling you up. Your breasts sway with every stroke, your nipples aching from how hard they are. His one hand remains on your throat as the other moves to your chest, kneading the soft mound in his palm. 
“Wouldn’t be fun if someone walked in right now?” he teases, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Seeing you getting absolutely railed—kinda wish I had a mirror so I could see how cock drunk you look, sweetheart.” 
Fuck, is all you can think and you desperately want to voice it out, tell him how good it feels. His voice, his breath, his teeth, his cock— But all you can do is whimper helplessly, hoping that the sound is enough to convey how much you’re enjoying this. 
“So stupid for me, I love it. You want me to make you come?” 
Another whimper. You nod helplessly, forcing yourself back to meet the movement of his hips. He hums as his hand slides between your legs, he draws wet circles around your clit, and your entire body clenches. You can barely hear him from the blood rush in your ears but you think he mumbles ‘oh shit’. Max continues to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves, with fast strokes he mumbles profanities against your skin. 
You come with his name on your lips. Your body convulses, muscles clenching and unclenching over and over as you gush all around his cock. It feels never-ending. He grinds his hips, burying himself deeper, throbbing inside. You hiss as your second orgasm washes over you, fluttering and twitching, your body goes limp. You're fairly certain if Max wasn’t holding you up, you’d collapse. 
Much to your surprise, Max slowly lays you on top of the desk and the office ceiling comes into view. He’s still pulsing between your legs. He smiles down at you, slides his fingers between your lips—the same fingers he made you come with—and leans in to shove his tongue alongside them. You part your lips wide, the taste of yourself and him making your head spin. You moan around his tongue and fingers. He pulls back with a smile.
“Where do you want me, sweetheart?” he asks, cupping your face with the same hand. 
“You can come inside,” you answer in a daze, then quickly add. “You can’t get me pregnant right?” 
He shakes his head and you smile, “Go ahead then.” 
It doesn’t take him long. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and takes deep inhales of your scent as he spills inside of you. You thread your fingers through his soft locks and gently tug on them. He groans. 
“That’s nice,” he hums, pressing his lips over your clavicle. “I wanna spend an eternity between your legs.” 
“Should I be scared that you actually can do that?” you say with a soft chuckle, he looks down at you, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. He wiggles his brows. 
“Maybe.” 
Max slowly pulls out, and when he stands, he watches the mess pour between your legs. His pupils eat away the color of his eyes and you shudder at how hungry he looks. 
Suddenly shy, you avert your gaze as you try to collect yourself, “Sorry about messing up your schedule. I’ll see you later.” 
“And where do you think you’re going?” 
He grabs your wrists and pulls you into an embrace. You hadn’t realized how tense you were until you feel yourself melting into him. 
“Fuck work,” he says, his hand resting over the small of your back. “I’ll get it done later. Let’s go home so I can at least spend tonight between your legs.” 
You grin into his chest, happy that he can’t see how ecstatic you look. He probably knows how excited you are anyway. 
“Sounds like a plan.” 
932 notes · View notes
a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
Text
it's very bad no good cupcake baking time for the hotel crew (save them) (charlie did you think this throu-) (NO)
Charlie: “I have! The most brilliant plan for a group bonding activity!”
Angel Dust: “Oooh~ Bondin’ or bond-”
Vaggie: “You live here for free.”
Angel Dust: “Buy my silence, Vaggity Fair, cause’ it sure ain’t free.”
Vaggie: (groans) (slips him a twenty) “Go on babe, what’s the mission statement?”
Charlie: “We should all bake CUPCAKES together!!”
Hotel Crew: "......"
Husk: “…Why.”
Charlie: “Beeeecaaaause it’d be so SWEET!”
Vaggie: “And you also live here for free.”
Husk: “Not of my own free will I don’t.”
Charlie: “Aw c’mon Husk, please? Baking is probably KINDA like drink mixing, right?”
Husk: “It’s not.”
Vaggie: (SIGHS) (slips him a twenty)
Husk: “I’ve got cooking sherry around here somewhere, I think.”
Alastor: “How thrilling! Extreme heat sources, flammable liquids, and so many little bottles and vials that couldn’t possibly get mix up with anything in the pest control cabinet!”
Niffty: “Hee hee hee…. Rat poison~”
Vaggie: “Twenty bucks and you LOCK that cabinet, okay?”
Niffty: “Thirty and a new knife set!”
Vaggie: (has given up) “Fine.”
Niffty: “OKAY!”
Charlie: “We need to go shopping anyway. We’ll need flour and sugar and uhhhh flavory things of some kind probably and um, those little paper thingies- the cup cake… skirts?”
Alastor: “Glad to see how prepared our intrepid leader is for this marvelous expedition!”
Charlie: “Cup cake… dollies…?”
Vaggie: “I’ll handle it. You remember how to pre-heat the oven?”
Charlie: “NOT with actual fire!”
Alastor: “Aww.”
Angel Dust: (handing back the twenty) “I want a new pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs. Mine broke~”
Vaggie: “I don’t want to know.”
Husk: (handing his twenty back too) “Beer.”
Vaggie: “Beer? You run the hotel BAR.”
Husk: “What, you think I nip stuff under the table at work?”
Alastor: “Oh there isn’t much thought needed when it comes to you, I’m afraid.”
Husk: “You think I LIKE that I do that? That’s the stupid hotel’s shit, can’t relax sneaking shots that aren’t mine, racking up a tab like that. This beer is gonna be only for me.”
Charlie: “Husk…”
Vaggie: “Great whatever, guilt free beer for the alcoholic.”
Alastor: “How touching. And I require-”
Vaggie: “What YOU need is a-”
Charlie: “Happy place!”
Vaggie: “-which I’m not picking up for you. I’ll get more cleaning supplies too while I’m at it.”
Charlie: “More? Vaggie, have some faith! We’re all adults here! It’s not gonna be THAT messy. We just need to measure things, maybe chop some stuff up first-”
Niffty: “KNIVES.”
Charlie: “-put all in a- blender-? A blender would work for mixing, right? Then pour the batter in the things and into the oven! Which I WILL remember to preheat this time. Without fire.”
Vaggie: “Good point.”
Charlie: “See!”
Vaggie: “We should stock up on first aid stuff too.”
Charlie: (pouting) “We’ll talk about it on the way.”
Vaggie: “Sweetie, thanks for wanting to help carry groceries, but I really think we need to divide and conquer here.”
Charlie: “Huh?”
Vaggie: “Husk is already halfway to the wine cellar.”
Charlie: “He wh- Husk wait! You can’t help make friendship cupcakes if you’re blackout drunk!”
Angel Dust: “Toots that’s the whole idea.”
Vaggie: “Fifty bucks if he’s still conscious when I get back. I’ll need him in the kitchen later if we’re gonna get through this alive.”
Angel Dust: “Spend it on getting’ him a really NICE beer and you’ve gotta deal.”
Vaggie: (eye twitch) “Why is all my money turning into drugs and sex toys?”
Niffty: “And KNIVES!”
Vaggie: “The one silver lining…”
Alastor: “You know, if you won’t extend simple shopping list courtesies to me, then I suppose I shall have to go shopping myself as well.”
Vaggie: “Keep your shopping on the other side of town from me or I’m coming home with a flat screen tv.”
Alastor: (annoyed channel switch sound) “….Noted!”
– LATER –
Hotel Crew: “………….”
Oven: (DING)
Vaggie: “…”
Vaggie: “….cupcakes are done.”
Charlie: “Oh yay. Whoo. Hoo.”
Hotel Crew: “…….”
Vaggie: “If no one takes them out they’re gonna burn.”
Angel Dust: “Let ‘em.”
Husk: “Little fuckers deserve to fry.”
Charlie: (exhausted) “No one deserves to burn for all eternity.”
Niffty: “Yeah! I wanna RIP THEM APART and STAB THE CRUMBS.”
Alastor: “Well that’s two votes for burning and two for rescuing, to a certain extent. I myself would like to try out these DARLING cupcake toppers that I found while out doing my shopping completely alone.”
Vaggie: “Oh my girlfriend’s dad shut up. You won’t die just because no one was listening to you for ten minutes.”
Alastor: “In any case, that makes three for rescue and two for burn, with you as the undecided vote, Vaggie. Choose wisely~!”
Vaggie: (sighing) “Someone hand me the oven mitts.”
Husk: “They’re in the fucking blender.”
Angel Dust: “What’s left of ‘em.”
Vaggie: “Fine. Someone move the pile of dirty dishes off Charlie so SHE can be our oven mitts.”
Charlie: “It’s so peaceful under here…”
Vaggie: “The friendship cupcakes are dying, babe.”
Charlie: “UggghHHHHHH ‘kay. Coming.”
Angel Dust “That’s what she sa-”
Vaggie: “KNIVES.”
Angel Dust “-cough cough cough! I didn’t say nothin’, I got a piece of walnut shell stuck in my throat!”
Alastor: “Usual night for you then, hmm?”
Husk: “Who the fuck put in walnuts?”
Vaggie: “Who cares. If they shelled them then it’s at least better than the coconut thing.”
Charlie: “Did we add anything that wasn’t nut related?”
Vaggie: “Uhhh.”
Angel Dust “Nope!”
Husk: “Is that the only thing you were keeping track of.”
Angel Dust “Hey I know my strengths and I’m stickn’ to ‘em!”
Charlie: “Speaking of strength and sticking… um…”
Hotel Crew: “……….”
Charlie: “They’re bubbling.”
Vaggie: “Yeah.”
Charlie: “Or, breathing?”
Vaggie: “Yeah…”
Charlie: “Is that normal? It feels kinda… not normal.”
Vaggie: “It’s. Impressive.”
Niftty: “They’re ALIVE!” (knife) “For now.”
Charlie: “Well I guess we shouldn’t REALLY judge them until we’ve actually seen what they taste like-”
Angel Dust “Not it!”
Husk: “Fuck no.”
Alastor: “I’m terribly afraid that I am on a diet.”
Vaggie: “You eat rotting deer carcasses.”
Alastor: “And THEY aren’t still moving when I chow in, ha ha!”
Charlie: “Okay well, I guess I’ll just…”
Vaggie: “Wait. You’re probably immune to half the stuff that’d kill us.”
Charlie: “Right, so I should-”
Vaggie: “You’re not a good example of what happens when a non-demon princess person eats these, sweetie. If wanna test for uh, quality control, it shouldn’t be with you.”
Hotel Crew: “…..”
Vaggie: “….hand me a cupcake.”
Husk: (edges out of the splash zone)
Charlie: “You don’t have to do this.”
Angel Dust: “But you totally should! After I get my phone out though, hold on a sec-”
Vaggie: “I’m standing right in front of Radio Head over here so don’t even THINK about recording this.”
Alastor: “Aww my dear little angel-”
Charlie: “Alastor.” (calm smile) (horns out) “Her name is Vaggie.”
Alastor: “-Vaggie, yes, I would almost be willing to make an exception to my own morals for you.” (grins at angel dust) “Almost.”
Angel Dust: (lowering his phone) “I was jus’ takin’ a selfie. You know. Since I’m covered in sticky white shit anyway.”
Husk: “This fucking sucks.” (shakes his paws)
Vaggie: “No. THIS does.”
Vaggie: (bites cupcake)
Hotel Crew: “……………..”
Vaggie: “….hm.”
Hotel Crew: (STEPS BACK)
Vaggie: “It’s… well it’s kinda…”
Charlie: (cringing) “Break up worthy??”
Niffty: “PAINFUL?”
Vaggie: “It’s.. Fruity..?”
Hotel Crew: (stares at still moving cupcakes)
Angel Dust: “No. Fuckin’. Way.”
Husk: “Since the fuck WHEN did they have fruit in them?”
Angel Dust: “They didn’t! I swear I checked!”
Charlie: “Are they, um, edible?”
Vaggie: “Well I wouldn’t sign them up for a baking competition but I’m not dying either, so.”
Charlie: (excited) “So we did it? We all made actual cupcakes together?”
Vaggie: (smiling) “We did it. Mission cupcake completed.”
Charlie: “HAHA YUS!” (fist pump) “FRIENDSHIP POWERRRRRRR!!!!”
Alastor: “Now now now, no cupcake is fully complete without a lovely floral topper!”
Angel Dust: “Ain’t THAT the truth~”
Alastor: “Which I bought. Alone. Without any second opinion to rely on.”
Vaggie: (rolls eye)
Charlie: “And they’re so cute! Thank you Alastor- you picked wonderfully. Everyone, get decorating!”
Niffty: (drooping) “No stabbing?”
Vaggie: “You can poke ‘em each with a knife to check that they’re done.”
Niffty: “HEHEHEH.”
Vaggie: “Poke them with the knife ONCE Niffty- hey- NO- don’t leave it inside-”
Angel Dust: “That’s what-”
Husk: “Will be on your gravestone if she fucking hears you.”
Charlie: “Awww~ Now they’re adorable AND delicious!”
Husk: “Don’t.”
Angel Dust: “I didn’t say nothin’!”
Vaggie: “I actually kinda wish you’d go back to sex jokes instead of whatever you’re doing to that cupcake”
Angel Dust: “There’s more than one kind of oral performance in the world~”
Vaggie: “Say that and then look at what Niffty’s doing to her cupcake.”
Husk: “Unholy fucking shit!!”
Niffty: (GLEEFUL CACKLING)
Charlie: “Okay well, we clearly each have our own… unique ways of enjoying these cupcakes. Some more uh, graphic and concerning than others-”
Angel Dust: “Why the fuck are the insides RED like that?! Who put in red dye???”
Charlie: “-but the point is we all came together to make these sweets! Which. Taste like strawberries?”
Vaggie: “I didn’t buy strawberries.”
Charlie: “A-at least it and the redness go with the rose themed toppers!”
Angel Dust: “Yeah, I mean, is it weird that out of this whole maybe-living cupcake thing, the professional spun sugar parts are the ones with the funkiest taste to ‘em?”
Vaggie: “….”
Vaggie: “Alastor. Where the fuck did you buy the rose themed cupcake toppers.”
Alastor: “Hmm? Does my private, SOLITARY shopping FINALLY interest you?”
Vaggie: “Where you literally on the other side of Pentagram City from me.”
Alastor: “I do believe that is what you requested, and I, being a proper gentleman even to someone who might be considered a less than proper lady, was only too happy to oblige!”
Charlie: “Vaggie are you okay? You’re looking kinda pale.”
Vaggie: “I’m.”
Vaggie: “Alastor did you get these rose themed toppers-"
Vaggie: "-in Cannibal Town?”
Angel Dust: “WHAT THE FUCK!?”
Alastor: “I did.”
Angel Dust: “FUCK!!!”
Husk: (hairball noise)
Charlie: “Oh no.”
Alastor: “Dear Rosie gave me quite the discount. Wasn’t that sweet of her?”
Charlie: “Oh. Nooooooooo-”
Alastor: “I think it utterly darling of her~”
Niffty: “Alastor, hey hey!”
Alastor: “Yes, murder of my eye?”
Niffty: “I stabbed my cupcake topper heheheh WHO did I just stab????”
Charlie: “NOOOOOO-”
Alastor: “I believe it was an unsatisfactory husband by the name of Bill.”
Niffty: (grinning) “A BAD boy?”
Alastor: “Not bad enough to escape Rosie’s Emporium intact but yes, in a manner of speaking.”
Niffty: “Oooh.”
Niffty: (snatches up another cupcake and hugs it) “For my collection.”
Charlie: “GAAAHM NOT HEARING THIS! I DIDN’T HEAR IT!”
Angel Dust: “GREAT CAN YA MAKE IT SO’S I DIDN’T EAT ANY OF IT EITHER!??!”
Alastor: “Not to your tastes, Angel Dust? And here I though you enjoyed have strange men in your mouth.”
Charlie: “DO WE KNOW HIS ADDRESS SO I CAN SEND AN APOLOGY LETTER???”
Alastor: “I suppose his business card might still be in the hand Rose tore off him-”
Charlie: “AAAAAGH!”
Vaggie: “Hostia. You really can’t not be the center of attention for five minutes can you.”
Alastor: “I can, truly I can and very happily! It seems however that YOU cannot withstand the consequences of your own, short-sighted actions.”
Charlie: “Um guys-”
Vaggie: “Oh yeah? You’re not the only monster here, dumbass.”
Charlie: “We’re getting a little off topic-”
Alastor: "But as I am the only one not mired in glorious self-pity, certainly I am the most impressive specimen here.”
Charlie: “Okay this is going a bit-”
Vaggie: “Impressive HA! Fuck your empty grin and your stupid suits. You’re not even the one with the highest body count.”
Angel Dust: “Are we talkin’ sex stuff orrr-?”
Vaggie: (takes topper off her cupcake and pops it in her mouth)
Hotel Crew: “………”
Vaggie: “What?”
Charlie: “Vaggie, um. Person.” (points) “Person food.”
Vaggie: “Sweetie, you know how murder crazy exorcist are. You really never thought we didn’t lick a little blood off our weapons now and then, to feel extra badass about slaughtering people sometimes?”
Charlie: (dazed) “I’m thinking about it now.” (covers cheeks)
Niffty: “BLOOD!”
Angel Dust: “Oh ew. Oh you're getting off on that- Oh that’s just-”
Charlie: “Part of her past, a thing EVERYONE has.”
Angel Dust: “BLEH.”
Husk: “Also step one to seeing her shitfaced.”
Charlie: “Ha haaa…” (claps hands) “Okay everyone- that’s a wrap on today’s bonding activities! I uh, I think we can save the clean up until we’ve all recovered from the actual cupcakes a bit, right Vaggie?”
Vaggie: (shrug) “Whatever.”
Husk: “About damn time.” (sighs) (walks out) “I’ll get the fucking vodka.”
Niffty: "HEE HEE." (carrying cupcake over her head) "TO THE COLLECTION!"
Angel Dust: “Hold up baby! I wanna get shitfaced too after this!”
Charlie: “Well I think it’s all very interesting! Angel stuff is interesting, isn’t it Alastor?”
Alastor: “Yes. Quite.”
Vaggie: “Uh-huh.” (slumps and drops cupcake) “Bill tastes boring as hell, by the way, maybe let Rosie know before she sells anymore of these.”
Charlie: “Oh? Maybe THAT’S why she gave such a steep discount?”
Alastor: “Perhaps.”
Charlie: “Awww cheer up Alastor. You can bring her some of our cupcakes as a thank you, now that we uh, we’ve um, had our fill of them already.”
Alastor: “Hmph.”
Vaggie: “Think I’ll head up now.”
Alastor: “While grabbing a drink along way, hmm?”
Vaggie: “Yeah. Why not.”
Charlie: “Vaggie-” (catches her hand) (squeezes) “-grab one for me, too? I’ll be right behind you.”
Vaggie: “…wine from the cellar then, huh?”
Charlie: “I’m having whatever you’re having.”
Vaggie: “Sweetie, you hate the shit I drink.” (small smile) “I’ll get us something from the cellar. Meet you up there.”
Charlie: “In a heartbeat.”
Charlie: “….”
Charlie: “Alastor.”
Alastor: “Oh don’t scold me for her baggage, dear, I don’t make her carry it.”
Charlie: “I’m not scolding. I just- I get that you have this whole-” (air quotes) “-annoying big brother who hates being ignored thing going on with Vaggie, and while it IS kinda sweet-”
Alastor: (microphone feedback) “Excuse me?”
Charlie: “Could you turn it down a tiny bit when it comes the exorcist stuff?”
Alastor: “I do not-”
Charlie: “I know I know you don’t mean to make her all droopy like this, it’s boring for you, totally a killjoy-”
Alastor: “There is NOTHING enjoyable about that woman!”
Charlie: “-So maaaaaaybe back off a little when things get too serious?”
Alastor: “NO!”
Charlie: “Think about it okay?” (pats his shoulder) “Anyway, thanks for sticking around for the friendship cupcakes, see you at the next hotel bonding session, Dadastor!”
Alastor: “At the next-”
Alastor: “………”
Alastor: (hissing) “DADastor!?”
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bangtaninborderland · 8 months
Text
JJK - SEVEN (JK POV)
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Summary: you know it isn't healthy, you know you should leave, but you can't and neither can he.
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, kind of toxic relationship.
A/N: there was a slight demand to see jungkooks pov and I thought I’d indulge it! I will be updating all other stories in the next month please bare with me! Once again be kind, I tried to write this as best as I could I tried to think how my ex would be.
BTS MASTERLIST
READER POV
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He’d been stuck on this song for weeks, and what had started as a moment of inspiration to create fizzled out into nothing more than an unfinished track giving him a headache.
He felt his phone buzz and he knew even before checking that it was you,
Baby 🖤: I’m home, will you be here for dinner?
He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Realistically he could go home, relax and eat a home-cooked meal with you but then he would have to come back here tomorrow and he really didn’t want to do that. Of course, he felt like an asshole always being at work but that wasn’t something he could control and he knew that you knew that.
He shook his head as he typed his response.
Him: No. Working late, don’t wait up.
Baby🖤: Okay, Love You
Him: Lo- “Jungkook?”
Jungkook was startled at the sight of Yoongi leaning against the door, closing his phone before answering him. “What’s wrong Hyung?”
“Mingyu is here asking for you.”
Jungkook frowned, the other hadn’t called him to let him know he would be coming by. “Why?”
Yoongi shrugged holding the door open for him. “I don’t know, just said it was important.”
“Oh, thanks Hyung.” Jungkook smiled at him before they went their separate ways,
Yoongi turns off into his studio and Jungkook to the waiting area.
“Jungkookie” he was met with the sighs of a sniffling Mingyu, he had clearly been crying.
“What’s wrong?”
“Can we get a drink?”
Jungkook sat next to him, shaking his head. “I’m supposed to be working, I told YN I wouldn’t be home so I can finish the song today. You can talk to me if something is bothering you, I have a little time.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it right now I just don’t want to be alone.” He paused, eyeing Jungkook before continuing. “If you’re busy I understand.”
He should go back to the studio, he should tell Mingyu he has to work but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he has to be a good friend, he can come back tomorrow and work because he has to be a good employee and then he can work late to complete his weekend work so he can take the weekend off so he could be a good boyfriend. Jungkook always had to just be good, he had to do everything perfectly.
“It’s okay we can, let me just get my jacket and shut everything off.” Jungkook smiled, patting Mingyus's leg before going to finish up.
It doesn’t take him long and soon enough he is in the passenger seat of Mingyus's car on the way to whatever restaurant the other had chosen.
“How are things between you and your girlfriend?” Mingyu questions.
“It’s good I guess.” Jungkook sighs, not really wanting to open that can of worms. “I’m not giving her enough.”
“What do you mean?” Mingyus eyes flicker to Jungkook before focusing back on the road.
Jungkook leans his head on the window, sighing. “She needs so much attention and reassurance. I know I’m supposed to be the one who gives that to her but I can’t, I don’t even have the time to reassure myself everything is going to be okay. I keep thinking about how easy it would be to break it off and just go back to focusing on work with no distractions.”
“You seem pretty set on that idea.” Mingyu responded. “Have you spoken to her about it?”
“No.” Jungkook huffed. “I can’t, if I do she will just shut down her own needs to try and support me. It makes me feel worse knowing she ignores the things she wants, needs and deserves just to keep me happy. I don’t fucking know what to do.”
“Why don’t you ask for a break?” Mingyu suggests, pulling into the carpark of their usual hangout. “I’m sure she would understand.”
“I can’t do that if I want to leave then I can’t keep her hanging on to hope that may never come. She deserves the world, I just can’t be the one to give it to her.”
The car turns off and it falls silent before Mingyu clears his throat, leaning a little closer to Jungkook. “If you know you can’t give her what she wants then let her go.”
Jungkook didn’t reply, he couldn't. Mingyu was fucking right and he hated it more than anything in the world because she deserved better, deserved the fucking noon and the stars but he couldn’t fulfil that but he also couldn’t leave because as much as he could talk shit about whatever issues they have he loved her to his core, depended on her in so many ways he didn’t know who he would be without her.
Even if he should let her go he won’t, because he can’t stomach the thought he of being alone without the love of his life. He can’t stand the idea of someone else loving her, touching her, being the reason for her smile.
The time flew once they were inside the restaurant come bar, drink going down with a burn enough to make him forget about his inner torment regarding his relationship. Mingyu dropped him home with the promise of seeing him again soon.
Jungkook fumbled with the keypad a few times before getting it right, he wasn’t drunk just a little buzzed.
He was taken aback by how dark everything was, usually, you’d still have at least the kitchen light on. He frowned slipping his shoes off and heading straight the the bedroom. Maybe she had gone to sleep? He frowned again seeing the sheets untouched.
“Marco?” He called out, knowing if you were in the apartment it would get your attention.
He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest and the memory of teaching you the child’s game. “Polo” he heard you call back.
“I thought you were working late?” She frowned, holding out a hand to him.
Jungkook groaned, not ready for a scolding as he slouched against the couch. “Yeah, well we finished around 7 so Mingyu asked if I wanted to get drinks.” He shrugged. “Don’t get all mad.”
“I’m not mad kook.” She was quick to reassure but Jungkook knew her better than that, she wasn’t mad she was upset and that was far worse. “I just missed you.”
And just like that he was sober, the fuzziness shrouding his brain courtesy of the alcohol he had ingested cleared up instantly. “Fuck I know okay, I know but I don’t need you putting pressure on me too I’m already working hard twenty-four seven, you want me to come home and be the perfect boyfriend to you but where is my time? Where is the time for me? It’s selfish of you to always put your wants first.” He knew he should shut up, knew none of that was true but he couldn’t stop himself.
“No I just meant that I missed you I didn’t-“ she sighed, the argument dying on her tongue. “I’m sorry.”
“You always say that. You just ruined a good day…god” he huffed, a hand running through his hair.
The second the words were out of his mouth he felt a twinge of guilt pang through him. Everything had come out wrong he should have been apologising but all he could feel was anger, anger at himself for being a fucking awful partner even though she had only ever been good to him and for whatever reason he still hadn’t figured out himself he found it all too easy to take it out on her.
“I’m going to shower and then I’ll sleep.” He knew walking away wasn’t right, they should talk, and he should apologise but he couldn’t look at her when she had that glimmer of hurt in her eyes, especially because he’s the one that put it there.
He stepped under the water, his head thrown forward as he let it wash away his worries. As much as he tries to focus on the sound of water pelting off the glass he can’t stop thinking about what just unfolded.
He should walk away, he should let her go so she can find someone who makes her happy but he won’t, and he knows deep inside she won’t leave either, no matter how much of an asshole he is.
He’s sad, although not surprised, to see the bed empty. On days like this, he knew you chose to wait up until he slept and he wasn’t going to interrupt that so he slid under the covers, bordering on that space of awake and sleep until he felt you slide in beside him. He pulled her closer to him, needing your touch before whispering an “I love you.” Placing a soft kiss on your head.
There was so much more he could say, so much he should say but he settled for the three words.
The next morning Jungkook woke up first which was a surprising occurrence but he decided to make the best of it. He quickly showered and got dressed before setting off for the kitchen. Making breakfast although a small act of love was where he decided to start making amends.
He flicked on a playlist of songs Taehyung had made him before letting himself be carried away by the copious chopping and frying.
He noticed her hovering in the doorway. “Good morning baby.”
Jungkook swore his heart grew at the sight of her smile. “Good morning.”
“Come here.” He called out, turning down the stove before opening his arms. He felt himself relax once his body was pressed against her as though it was made to be there. “I’m sorry for last night.”
“It’s okay.” She whispers but he knows it isn’t, regardless of what she says it isn’t okay, and it will never be okay.
Jungkook pushes her back a little, taking in her forced smile before asking “Is it really? Do you forgive me?”
“I’ll always forgive you.” She responded without any hesitation, that was a true answer as unhealthy as it was he knew she meant it with her entirety.
He knew he wasn’t worthy of you, knew that you loved and cared for him far beyond that which he deserved so he promised, he promised himself he would try, he would try to be better, be a fraction of the person she deserved and even if he couldn’t he knew it would be okay because they would always be there, needing one another.
“I’m in love with you.” Jungkook breathed, shifting his head and tilting her chin up to kiss her.
“I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” She mumbled back, a bright smile on her face.
And just like that everything fell back into their normal.
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spacecowboyhotch · 10 months
Text
The Bee & the Bear, Chapter 1: And Then There Were Four
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summary: Mikey’s death brings the gang back together again.
pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader (Bee)
contents: 18+/NSFW/heavy content, mention of suicide/mental illness, grief, longing, pining, angst, friends to strangersish to lovers
wc: 2.1k
an: this is my first time writing for the Bear so i beg of you to go easy on me.
series masterlist
The sky is gray and cloudy and birds are singing softly, perched in dead trees. There’s snow on the ground, crunching beneath the weight of everyone’s shoes. Beneath the weight of everyone’s grief, so heavy it's palpable. It’s the coldest day of the year, fitting for the occasion. Because Mikey’s dead, taken from all of you with his own hand.
You’re sandwiched between Sugar and Richie, to keep them apart, to keep them together. Regardless of their history and their care for each other, it's always touch and go– a disaster waiting to happen. But with you here and in the flesh after so many years, they’re both trying to balance that fucked up mixture of happiness from seeing your face and the pure despair from losing Mikey.
“Thank you for comin’, sweetheart,” Richie squeezes your shoulders, his eyes soft and watery when you look up at him.
You lean more firmly into his side, “You know I wouldn’t miss it.”
“You know who would.”
You know exactly who he’s talking about. Carmy isn’t here, and while anyone else would expect him to show up to his brother’s funeral it had not surprised you. Not with how the last several years have gone. Richie’s words make you sigh tiredly, and you give him a stern look. The last thing that Mikey’s funeral needs is more blaming. That didn’t start at Mikey’s funeral though, the Berzattos have pointed fingers at each other for as long as you can remember.
There are faces familiar and not around you, all of them turned to the ground, paying their last respects to Mikey. This hurts, it hurts deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before. Since you’d gotten that phone call from Sugar something heavy and dark has sat in the pit of your stomach, taking root and finding its home there. Life has always been the 5 of you, even with you and Carmy strewn across the country. You and Mikey and Carmy and Sugar and Richie. A reality that you’d always known, that you found comfort in on days you felt a little too homesick. Your relationships with all of them heavily inspired your art, they had become your family.
As you watch Mikey’s casket be lowered into the ground you can’t help but feel like your lens on life has shifted. For the first time in a long time, you aren’t completely sure where anything goes.
“Are you hungry?” Sugar asks as the two of you shed your coats and head into her kitchen.
There was no repass, what with the restaurant currently closed. Everyone had agreed it didn’t feel right to eat anything but The Beef in Mikey’s honor. There had been one last huddle, shared goodbyes and I love yous, and many tears before everyone had dispersed. You’d promised Sugar that you’d help her sort through everything since Carmy never showed up.
“Starving.”
She sets the file box full of Mikey’s paperwork on the counter and takes a step towards the fridge, “I’ll make us something.”
You rest your hand over hers, shaking your head, “No, it’s good, Sugar. Sit, start sifting, I’ll do it.”
“You sure?” She asks skeptically– sure you know how to work your way around a kitchen-- its impossible not to with Mikey and Carmy-- before you’ve never been known for being a cook. You're the artist, the traditional creative of the bunch who has mess and color strewn all about.
“I’m sure, just let me help. It’s what I’m here for, yeah?”
Her eyes go a little soft and she nods, “Yeah, okay.”
She goes to sit at the breakfast bar, looking at the pile of documents that hold Mikey’s life. Heaps and heaps of paper that mean nothing to her. That do a terrible job of capturing who Mikey was and what his life meant to others.
You open the fridge, poking through the contents as if you’ve done this a million times. That’s just how things are with Sugar, they’re comfortable– always have been and always will be. She has the ingredients for their mom’s chicken piccata in her fridge and you quickly fetch them and the proper tools.
Sugar does her best to stay on task, but the sounds of someone else in the kitchen, and the smell of her mother’s food are distracting. She watches the flick of your wrist and the speed of your knife. You dice and sprinkle and stir in similar ways to her brothers. It’s impossible to notice.
“You look like them,” She says, her voice a little melancholic.
“Look like who?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at her in concern.
The smile on her face is wistful, “Like Mikey. Like Carmy. Carmy especially.”
Something in your chest cracks. You turn back to the pan in front of you, spooning sauce over the chicken one too many times, just to stay away from the tender look on her face. “They did teach me the basics.”
She’s silent for a moment, battling herself, wondering if she should ask this question. It’s a touchy subject, it always has been despite your closeness but she just had to know. “I sorta know the answer to this, but did you…did you try?”
“Don’t start with me, Nat.”
“I just want to know,” She assures you gently. “Did you really try?”
You reach for the jar of capers angrily, though this is less about the anger and more about the hurt. About the longing, this brings up. “He treated me just like everyone else. There was nothing for me to try.”
“You know Carmen’s always had a soft spot for you.”
“Not soft enough to follow through on his words,” You mumble sourly.
She goes quiet then because you’re right. Carmy had taken off for culinary school and seemingly never looked back, besides the infamous Christmas– the one you don’t even know about. All of his promises of staying in touch and showing each other new worlds fell flat.
You had tried. You offered to take him on a food crawl through Seattle where you were going to art school.
“Oh my fucking god,” She grits out, the shock in her voice sending you into fight or flight. The plate in your hand clatters to the counter without breaking, thankfully.
You turn to her, leaning across the counter, “What? What’s wrong?”
Her eyes continue to scan the page in front of her, over and over as if the letters will say something different. “Michael you fucking— he left Bear the restaurant.”
“He what?”
“Fucking Mikey,” She stands abruptly, scrubbing her face with her hands. “Ok, ok, um–uh–can you call Bear? I’m gonna call Richie.”
“Me? Call Carmy?”
Was the man that you’d fallen in love with when he was just a little boy really still out there? Sure, he was— living and breathing, walking and cooking and testing. But, all of that was mechanical. Was his smile still the same? His laugh? Did a heart still beat in that empty chest of his? Did his blue eyes still hold as much as Lake Michigan?
Sugar sees your panic, face softening with concern, “We both know he won’t answer, you’ll be fine.”
“But—“
“Please, Bee?”
The name that Sugar calls you knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s been a long, long time since anyone has called you that— since you left for college. Since the last time you’d seen Carmy. Would he still call you that? He’d started it after all. Named you Bee because you were obsessed with painting flowers, they covered your room, all of your canvas and anything else your parents deemed invaluable enough to lose to your hobby turned career.
“Hey, you okay?” She asks when you don’t respond after several seconds.
You blink a few times before refocusing on her. You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, “What? Yeah, just fine.”
Her brow furrows, and she steps closer reaching out to run her hand up and down your arm, “Are you sure?”
You give a smile that doesn’t touch your eyes and fish your phone out of your pocket, “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll go call Carmy.”
Before Sugar can respond you make your way to the front door and let yourself out. You’re met with the frigid Chicago air, the wind whipping at your cheeks. With your coat inside, the cold chills you to the bone but the feeling is welcome. It shocks your nervous system in a way that makes it easier to call Carmy. Your head is clear, and most of your focus is now on warming your fingers as you dial his number and start to pace.
Sugar was right– he doesn’t answer. It rings and rings and rings until you hear his voice for the first time in years. It's the same message that he’d set years ago: Hey, it's Carmy. Let it rip at the beep.
Many beats of silence pass before you realize that it's time for you to speak.
“Oh fuck, sorry. H-Hi, Carmen. It’s…it’s me. Nat and I just went through Mikey’s will and well…he left it to you. The Beef I mean, it’s yours. Sugar really needs you to come home to figure this out.”
You pause for a moment, wondering if you should say anything about yourself. About your friendship that he’s let crumble. About your heart that he’s ground into dust with each day that goes by with no contact. No that won’t do.
“Just come home and help your fucking sister. Please, Carmy,” You plead softly before hanging up.
You aren’t sure if that was a good enough attempt, but you don’t want to risk calling back and having to face him. Despite your worry, it does the trick.
You and Sugar are tucked in Mikey’s office, combing through records of unpaid pills and disorganized expense reports when it happens.
“Cousin!” Richie yells with just enough disbelief in his voice for you to know.
You and Sugar look at each other with wide eyes, hands frozen and full of stacks of paper. You can hear them clambering through the restaurant, making their way to you and you wish that some freak accident that denies the laws of physics would swallow you up.
To your dismay, It doesn’t.
Carmy and Richie round the corner, and you’re a goner like you’ve been all these years. Soft blue eyes that give the crystal skies a run for their money and a messy mop of ashy hair. It doesn’t matter that a man waits for you at home or how many times you’ve told yourself that you’re over Carmy. It never sticks, you don’t know why you thought it would. You were hoping that he’d hurt you enough for it to fade.
Carmy stops in his tracks at the sight of you, throwing Richie a look that clearly says “you couldn’t have warned me”. You aren’t sure how to interpret it– was he excited to see you? Upset?
He stuffs his hands into his pockets nervously and leans against the door frame. “Hi. Hey,” He means to say it to you and Sugar, but his eyes don’t leave your face.
“Hey,” You squeak, cheeks heating in embarrassment. You clear your throat and try again. “Hi, Carmen.”
“Hey, Bear,” Sugar waves her hand playfully as if she’s trying to get his attention, and his eyes finally flit over to her.
He smiles, one that you know is genuine despite that lack of teeth. His eyes drop to the ground and he nods a few times before glancing to Natalie again. “So he left it to me,” He says lamely.
“Yeah, Carmy, he left it to you,” Sugar repeats his words, frustrated not only with Carmy for his late arrival or for his lack of appearance at his own brother’s funeral but for this entire situation.
None of them should be here trying to figure this out. Mikey should be in this kitchen with Richie, she should be at home thinking about what she and Pete for dinner. And though this finally brought you and Carmy home, she wishes that things were the way they were just a few short weeks ago. She wants Mikey alive.
“Guess that means I should open it.”
Richie gives out a shout before clapping Carmy on the shoulder, “See now I like the sound of that, cousin.”
Carmy flinches under Richie’s touch, hoping no one will notice. It's not something he wants to talk about or even think about. He can feel your eyes on him and quickly makes up an excuse to put some space between the two of you. “I’m gonna go check out the stock in the fridge. It— uh, good to see you, Bee.”
You nod awkwardly, though those simple words make your heart race, “You too, Carmy.”
Richie doesn’t follow after him, stepping into the office and crossing his arms. The three of you sit there in a silence that screams he has something to say.
“Just say it, Richie. Fuck’s sake,” Sugar finally says, rubbing her temples.
Your brow furrows as your head whips from side to side to look between them. “Say what?”
“You know he’ll notice, right?” Richie asks you, leaning back against the desk.
“Notice what?”
Richie looks at Sugar expectantly, and she sighs, rubbing at her temples again. She fixes you with a look that is as sympathetic as it is accusatory, “That you don’t call him Bear anymore.”
| > chapter 2: Back in the Beef
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