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newtkive · 4 months

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confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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sweatervest-obsessed · 5 months

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Hangovers and Hickeys

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: no idea rn lmao probably like 700

A/N: some Spence content before the new year (on the western calendar). Hope you all get to enjoy the day!

“Good morning sunshine.”

You winced at the sheer volume of his voice. “If I could, id shove you off of the roof Derek Morgan.”

“Fun night?”

You snorted and finally lifted your head off of the desk. “You should be a profiler.”

That caused Derek to laugh, which made you wince and close your eyes. The sunglasses perched on your nose were supposed to be helping. They weren’t.

“That’s a nice hickey you got there.”

You grunted in response and tried to adjust your sweater collar so it would cover the hickey you missed this morning when you didn’t look in the mirror. You had basically rolled out of bed, and into your car to make sure you got to work on time.

“Who gave it to you?” “Why don’t you use your super duper profiling skills to deduce it or whatever Sherlock shit you wanna do.”

Derek snorted and shook his head. ”or you could just….tell me.”

“Don’t worry about it Derek.” You grumbled.

When Derek realized he wasn’t going to get any answers out of you about it, he decided he was going to change tactics.

“Moving on from Boy Wonder?” It was no secret that you had a crush on a certain nerdy doctor. And so Derek tried to use this knowledge to his advantage.

You crossed your arms and just raised your eyebrows. “I’m not dignifying that with a response,”

“Pretty sure that was my answer.” He chuckled, sitting down in his chair and swiveling to look at you.

When you decided to just ignore Derek, and face your desk, he piped up again. “Where is he anyways?” “No idea.”

It was like he was waiting for his cue from you. Spencer pushed open the doors to the bull pen and strolled in. He had his purple scarf around his neck, over his new coat that Henry (JJ) had gotten him for Christmas. It was a beautiful grey pea coat that kept him warm during these freezing winter months. Spender was carrying a tray with two coffees on it and what seemed like a bag from McDonalds, which seemed to be for you, since he was headed in your direction.

The smell of the food caused you to groan with joy and smile at the man walking towards you.

“My knight in shining armor.” You muttered as he placed the whole tray in front of you. You placed a kiss on his cheek hasilty, causing him to blush a little.

“I got hashbrowns from both McDonald’s and Dunkin’, a little smorgasbord of grease for your pallet.” He whispered before taking one of the cups out of the tray.

“I’m going to marry you Doctor Spencer Reid.” You muttered, digging into the bag and pulling out one of the McDonald’s hash browns and biting into it. The groan you let out leaned a little on the pornographic side, which made Derek raise his eyebrows at the sound you let out, and then at tinge of pink on Spencer’s cheeks.

You continued eating, clueless about the silent interrogation happening to your left, enjoying every single bite and sip of your hangover cure.

“Derek I can hear you thinking and it’s making my head throb.”

Derek’s eyes snapped back to you, as your figure swiveled in the chair to face him, casually munching on some of the fries, in a completely different mood then from two minutes ago before Spencer had walked in the room.

“Sorry your highness. I’m just curious as to why Boy Genius here is bringing you hangover cures.”

“Well it’s his fault I’m this fucked up so he owes me.” You grumbled, swiveling around in your chair to face your desk. You pulled your lap top out of your canvas bag and started to set up for your work day.

“Wha-how is it his fault.”

That’s when Spencer turned bright red and tried to change the conversation, or at least get out of it. “I—well it’s not…I….hotch is…”

Spencer basically ran across the bullpen and up the stairs to Hotch’s office, avoiding the conversation he almost just had.

“I don’t think you wanna know.” You smirked and bit into the muffin from Dunks that Spencer had got you, not looking at the man behind you.

“I’m starting to think that too.” His eyes narrowed and he looked between where Spencer had run off to, and you.

Something was going on between the two of you, and Derek Morgan was going to figure it out.

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sinning-23 · 19 days

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Baby Mama (OPLA HEADCANNONS)

In honor of mothers day, here some little headcannons I cooked up for our faves! Hope yall enjoy lol

Luffy

-This mf was like...actually capable of conceiving a child lmao.

-There was really no like initial shock, it was more like overwhelming joy? There was honestly no need to reveal it to the rest of the crew since the second you told him he shouted it loud ad fucing possible.

-"Luffy, uhhh I think im pregnant." You huff, hand over your forehead as you try to figure out the next course of action.

"YOURE PREGNANT?! THATS GREAT!"

"Y/N IS WHAT?" Nami gasps, eyes flitting form you to Luffy, then to your belly.

"YOU’RE PREGNANT?! HOW?" Usopp questions, only to have Sanji interrupt,

"Well Usopp, when two people love eachother- or well... lets talk about he birds and the bee-"

"I KNOW HOW THAT WORKS DICKHEAD-"

-Luffy is a.....he's a great dad, just a little uhhhh...wild?

-You have to explain tho him that this baby cannot fucking eat solid food.

-He's learning and that’s all that matters. He knows when to get serious about his kid and when its okay to be a lil silly.

-Oh and be prepared for when your kid hits about 6-7 cause they're so much like their father its crazy-

Zoro

-He's thuroughly convinced its your fault because he knows for a fact he has impeccable pull out.

-"That’s not mine." He hums, pointing at the newborn with a raise brow.

The fucking liar this baby is his spitting image. Like your genes didn't evens stand a chance. The baby even fucking mean mugs like he does, that lil stoic face.

-"This isn’t yours?" You question, holding the baby up side by side with his obvious father.

"Nope"

-Once he’s like fully processed and accepted the fact that your pussy just so happened to weaken his pull out game, he will claim the child and make sure he's being helpful with both you and the infant.

-It was actually pretty fucking hilarious to see the baby try and latch to his nipple cause his tits are fucking massive. Heeee didn’t think it was that funny tho💀

-Just let the kid grow up a little bit and they’re all about their father, and even though he may not show it all the time, he adores his baby. And they will always be a baby in his eyes. And he things you’re a phenomenal mother even though it was sort of a surprise.

Nami

-You had come aboaded with a toddler. And sure enough they latched to Nami in a heartbeat.

-“AHT! No, you stay with me and let them work.” You reprimand, giving a quick apology to the tangarine haired girl.

“Oh no they’re okay. Hey, you wanna see something cool?” He hum, taking the 2 year old by the hand before you can protest.

-Auntie Nami accidentally turned to ‘mamami’ (Mama Nami) andddd it just stuck.

-one night the three of you had fall asleep in Nami’squarter and she had woke up and just, admires you both. She couldn’t help the way her chest squeezed when she thought about raising this child with you or how much she loved being a part of your lives.

Your eyes flutter open and you give her a knowing look, her face already tinted pink.

“Nami,” you begin, your free hand pushing hair behind her ear as she hold your wrist, placing a kiss there.

“Thank you, love you.” You hum, letting yourself fall back asleep.

-yeah she’s stuck with you two for life

-unironically calls you her baby mama

Usopp

-is literally the best fuckinf dad. Literally ever.

-he wants to make sure he’s an active part of your child’s life, being sure to keep you both in good health and high spirits.

-when you broke the news he was terrified. How good of a father could he be? He just don’t want to let you down.

-“W-What if our kid hates me?” He voices one night, hands holding your tummy.

“I doubt that’ll happen. You’ll be okay Uso.”

-Guess having impeccable aim runs in the family because by time your child is year they’re already throwing projectiles with phenomenal accuracy.

-you can’t tell me he doesn’t make most of your babies toys.

-he loves seeing you just have little moments with your baby, he definetly cried when they took their first steps.

-keeps a picture of the three of you tucked away

-hints at wanting another one from time to time

Sanji

-fainted when you told him.

-honestly he’s a little shocked. He didn’t really put ‘father’ on his goal list but here yall are lol

-he’s very supported and knows that morning sickness is a bitchhhh

-“how’re my girls…or boy” he greets, pressing a kiss to your tummy then to your lips.

-much to his surprise, he was right on both parts because you’re having twins! Yayyyyy

-you cuss him out when your in labor.

-“SANJI YOU ASSHOLE! YOU DID THIS TO ME! WHY DID I FALL FOR YOUR DELICIOUS FOOD YOU FUCK!”

-he’s not allowed in the delivery room lmao he fainted again when the nurse asked if he’d like to see what was goin on

-after 6 horrendous hours, your baby boy and girl are finally born and he’s too delighted.

-“good job baby.” He praises, peppering your tired face with kisses.

-when the kids are older he’s always falling victim to their puppy eyes and begging when they ask for dessert before dinner

-“please dad! We won’t tell mom! Pleaseeee!”

-he loves being with you and loves that he’s been blasted with a wonderful wife and two beautiful children

Shanks

-oh the minute he found out he was stunned! He was sure he already had an illegitimate baby somewhere but for one of the baby mamas to actually let him know was, a bit of a surprised?

-and that’s it. He doesn’t really go out of his way to go visit and see if it’s true. He goes on about his business truely.

-one day, he comes across a lady at a bar, her bright red hair thrown up and she waits tables, her gaze almost immediately locking on his as she frowns

-….what the fuck she looks just like him.

-she goes to a couple other of the waiters/waitresses and the minute they catch his gaze they’re nodding profusely at her.

-it took, shit you not. 3 hours for them to get a table and that was only because her boss came in and MADE her seat the crew.

-“what do you want.” She huffs, her notepad clenched so tight it crumples the paper.

Shanks only further studies the girl, her rage ever present as she slams the notepad down.

“I SAID, What. Do. You. Want. Quickly, or I’m leaving you here to wait 3 more hours. Spit it the fuck out you old bastard.” She spits, leaving him somewhat shocked.

-“How about the-“

-“we’re all out. Deadbeat.” She finishes, dropping her apron and notepad, then walking out.

Safe to say that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

-when he finds where you guys live and YOU answer the door thank god, he firstly apologizes (which you don’t accept right away) and explains how he already met your daughter.

Speak of the devil she had just rounded the corner asking who it was.

“Don’t let this fucker the house mom, please.” She begs, gaze flittering form you to her sperm donor.

-yeahhhhhh this is why he hardly ever makes the effort to see his unsuspecting kids. Doesn’t quite pan out how he thinks.

Mihawk

- you’re not the only one at all. He’s got plenty fucking kids running around and you’re fully aware of that, having run into more than one child that looks just mf like him.

-he won’t deny any of them, but he doesn’t feel like he owes them anything either? It’s weird and you usually feel bad that he picked you and your child when he could very well have done that for the rest of them.

-he often assures you that we’re were one night stand situations he hardly remembers after being so damn drunk.

-he’s a good dad though and a great husband. He makes sure you’re taken care of even is he’s gone a lot of the time. When you told him you were having a baby he didn’t leave from your side.

-when the baby is born he’s a bit suprised they don’t look like him but as soon as they open their eyes he’s so mf smug. Those eyes are a dead giveaways that’s his baby.

-don’t let that baby ask for something be used Mihawk will without a doubt give it to them no matter what.

-“Honey I-“

-there standing in front of the fridge, in laminated with its light are your husband and child. Their eyes wide like an owls, staring directly into your soul.

-“We wanted ice cream.”

Buggy

-he loves his babies. Hands down loves his fucking babies. Plural because of course you were blessed/cursed with triplets.

-two boys, one sweet girl, and not one of them look like their daddy, besides that faint tint of blue in their hair.

-and he’s maddddd, well. not at you but at his genes.

-“honey wait, they might just grow into it?” You encourage, trying not to laugh as he tried to figure out why his kids don’t look like him.

-thank god you were right because by time they were all 4/5 that blue had brightened and the little red glow of their noses were ever present.

-he’s so attentive with you, taking care of the three of them when you need rest or just in general cause how gorgeous wife needs rest after making three gorgeous babies

-freaks his babies out when he takes his head off

-then they won’t leave him the fuck alone about it and will often take pieces of him while he chases them around for them back.

-his babies get their own spot on the show and it fucking adorable watching toddlers dance to circus music with face paint they insisted they do themselves

-best dad buggy 100%

#x reader #one piece #reader is black #one piece live action #i don't care he's hot #headcannons #one piece x reader #opla #hes so hot #opla luffy x reader #one piece zoro x reader #nami x reader #opla usopp x reader #opla sanji x reader #opla shanks x reader #opla mihawk x reader #opla buggy x reader #Mother’s Day headcannon

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bebebelll · 8 months

Text

does anyone know her dad? daniel ricciardo smau (part 1)

pairing: daniel ricciardo x toto's secret child!reader / daniel ricciardo x schumacher and wolff!reader warnings: cursing and some general fandom hate wags get note: first time doing this i dont know if this right but lets go! part 2, part 3 and part 4

mickschumacher happy birthday to @ynquads !! sorry for crashing into the cake! mama said she'll make you another

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 122 498 others

gina_schumacher thanks for almost cropping me out of the picture

mickschumacher it's about yn!! ynquads i though i was you favourite cousin gigi :( why u being so mean to me :( i'll go tell my parents micschumacher ill tell mama you're being mean to yn username123 always love seeing mick and yn be annoying little siblings

maxverstappen1 congrats! is it enough to say it here or do i have to make my own post? ive given you a present

ynquads bring me cowboy boots from austin and you dont have to

username cute cute cute cute cute cute

username honestly schumacher genes dont even feel real anymore

username right!?!?! i want yn to win the figure skating grand prix but then i remember that video where she went karting with max username like a billion drivers and a skater and the good looks in ONE family? god really does have favourites

lewishamilton happy birthday! it's been great seeing you grow up

username excuse me sir? what do you mean grow up?

ynquads visited japan for a wedding and now i'm all ready for skate america!! let's gooo cricket club!!

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, susie_wolff and 112 666 others

username YOU GOT INVITED TO YUZURU'S WEDDING

ynquads i even got to bring daniel🤭

danielricciardo it was a lovely wedding❤️❤️(ours is gonna be better)

username excuse what the fuck lewishamilton actually you're not allowed to marry her without our permission danielricciardo whose permission would i even ask? lewishamilton every german speaking driver and like three team bosses good luck

username ARIANA (our queen & god susie wolff) WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

maxverstappen1 daniel's being gross make him stop

danielricciardo am not! ynquads lmao throw bread at him danielricciardo all the love ive given you and this is how you repay me? ynquads ooh i'll repay you 😏 maxverstappen1 dont be weird under my comment

username oh she has time to fly to japan but not go to a single race ever

username babes danny has not been in the since zandvoort. theres been no race to go see him username they've been together for like three years and she's only been to less than ten races username like seriously cant she ever be supportive username you people do realize she's an athlete too?

ynquads we got silver!!!💪🥈🥈🥈congrats to kaori sakamoto 🥇 and isabeau levito🥉 (also thanks uncle lewis for dinner)

tagged: lewishamilton

liked by maxverstappen1 and 237 274 others

nicorosberg he gave you alcohol?

ynquads i have never actually drank alcohol at all in my entire life (also dad was there i was not even allowed to get food that had rum in the sauce) maxverstappen1 oh yeah we did not at all just get drunk ynquads shut up before nico goes to talk to my DAD

username are we all just gonna ignore that she calls lewis "uncle" like seriously how disrespectful is that

username calm the fuck down she calls him and all the older grid (especially sebastian) uncle so it is not new

danielricciardo why you holding your head like that? is it heavy from all the pretty? i can hold it for you

nicorosberg this is who you choose @ynquads danielricciardo why are you bullying me too??? ynquads hes funny onkel nico (uncle) username how is nico rosberg here dragging danny ric? you dont even follow him?

username EVERYBODY CALM DOWN THIS IS NOT A DRILL WE HAVE A CHANCE TO HAVE YN WIN THIS YEAR'S GRAND PRIX PLEASE BE ON EVERY PODIUM

susie_wolff congrats honey! we're really proud!

username i still think it's so damn weird she just hangs out with the older grid. how does she even know then to go on dinners

username okay but when the hell did this even happen? i follow yn and she trains in toronto and during summer is in germany or england. she doesnt attend the races? how the fuck is she and DANIEL RICCIARDO together babes

username i bet my life that max introduced them i can feel it in my bones that he planned this username "oh sorry i won by 30 secs and you have a shitbox to drive, wanna meet my friend she's great gf material? you have no chance without help" ynquads i mean.... username OH MY GOD

username she's such a shit girlfriend honestly. she dates daniel for publicity and then drags lewis down too

username what the fuck are you smoking??

username how the FUCK did daniel ricciardo bag the talented pretty QUAD QUEEN MISS YN SCHUMACHER!!! thats my wife actually! what about our kids and three lambs??

f1wagsupdates paparazzi has released a video of mercedes team boss toto wolff exiting a restaurant and driving off with a young woman. even though she tried to cover herself, the woman was quicky identified as yn schumacher. she is a figure skater and 20+ years younger. in an interview from home yn can be seen walking around the wolff kitchen in little clothing. is this the ending to toto's perfect looking marriage with fellow motorsport boss susie wolff?

liked by 10 385

username if i dont read it, it doesnt exist. no one's cheating ever

username toto and susie's kid is like 5 how could he throw that away??

username its always the goddamn family men fucking over their wives and kids

username this is such bullshit. toto and susie have been together since like 2011 this is so horrible

username little clothing? she's wearing like pajamas

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo insta au #formula 1 social media au #daniel ricciardo #toto wolff

656 notes · View notes

doobea · 7 months

Text

BORN TO MAKE HISTORY - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: After his brother takes a nasty fall and calls out before the new season starts, Rin has to step up as your new figure skating partner.

✰ ✰ ✰જ⁀➴ PLAYLIST.

contents: an ice skating au fic (very much yuri on ice inspired), fem!reader, ice skating terms and irl figures thrown around but not that super important, lmao probably inaccurate depictions of figure skating, sfw, kinda enemies to lovers but its really just rin being anti-social and cold, sae is a decent brother in here, characters are in their early-mid 20s, talks about ISU grand prix, mentions of mental health (depression, anxiety, burn out, imposter syndrome), heavy narration, rin centric, multiple parts will be added but no set scheduling of course word count: 4.3K (sigh there will be more) a/n: you know... whenever i feel like i hit a writer's block... thinking about rin always helps me break out of it so thank u...

For as long as Rin can remember, he's always followed in his brother's footsteps.

Whatever that meant being interested in the same shows, books, and sometimes even hobbies, Rin would always be one step behind. It was a long-time habit that he picked up ever since he was little. There was a small running joke that if you wanted to find Rin, all you needed to do was find Sae. If anyone were to ask him why, he would probably shrug and refuse to answer, though his parents would gush on about how much he looks up to his older brother, and… it’s not a complete tall tale.

His brother is talented and not in a ‘he can totally balance a stack of rocks in one try’ type of talented—though Rin is pretty sure that Sae can do that—but in a ‘he’s born with a natural gift to be absolutely perfect at everything he touches’ type of talented. So, regardless if Rin is always one step behind his brother, he knows deep down that it will always be Sae standing on the very top of the podium with a gold medal around his neck.

Sae delved into figure skating at the age of eight, and Rin quickly followed suit. It began on a family night in, the brothers gathered around their small, worn-out television, fixated on the Winter Olympics in muted colors. Although ice skating initially served as mere background noise while their mother knitted, they both felt an undeniable pull.

Rin was only thirteen when he first won silver at his junior debut competition. In that same year, Sae also moved up to the senior-level groups and gave his first professional appearance during the Japan Figure Skating Championships. Unsurprisingly to no one, Sae effortlessly won gold, putting the whole world on notice and overtaking the competition by over 40 points. From that moment forward, Sae was recruited by an international coach and was sent aboard to different training facilities.

It burned in Rin’s memories of all the irregular Facetime calls they would have of Sae giving him a walking tour of the cities he stayed in. New York was too loud and bright. Chongqing felt like something out of a fairytale and a cyberpunk city at the same time. Saint Petersburg was too cold but Sae liked grabbing pirozhki from a street food vendor before practice every morning. Despite being only two years older, he sometimes felt like he was worlds away from his brother’s place.

Still, after everything, Rin looks up to him. It doesn’t bother Rin that he’s always ‘second best’—according to those poorly written sports magazines—because this is something they can bond over, something that only they can understand.

And maybe this is Rin’s motivation to eventually surpass him.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t go exactly how he imagines it.

“You’re going to sub in for me.”

Sae is sitting up on his bed, his right leg bandaged tightly all the way up to his knee, and he’s saying this with his usual straight-laced expression. Their mother has always complained about being unable to read Sae’s emotions and Rin always thought it was pretty amusing growing up. But now, he finally understands what his mother was talking about.

Rin straightens his back in his seat, a colorful plastic chair from their childhood that’s now too small for a person his size, and almost drops his phone. “Did you hit your head too?”

His brother rolls his eyes and continues, “I know you’re taking a break this season but I promised one of my juniors that I would compete with them. Luckily,” and he points to his injured leg, “this isn’t a permanent issue but I think it’ll also be good for you.”

Sae’s injury happened during practice overseas at a training facility in Madrid. It’s a mild ankle and knee sprain from overexertion and stress factors from jumping too often. He was treated briefly before their parents suggested flying back to Japan to fully recover. It’s not uncommon for skaters to suffer from these types of injuries but why does Sae feel the need to bring Rin into this?

During last year’s Grand Prix Final, Rin had barely finished in the top ten. He fumbled with his short program and free skate, failed to land his quad jumps three times, and had a sloppy step sequence, both of which were supposed to be his strong suits. That day, he didn’t bother joining his coach at the kiss and tell, ignored all the swarming paparazzi self-proclaimed journalists, and uninstalled every social media app on his phone. His fans, coaches, and his family were all concerned as to how someone like him was able to fall that low compared to his higher-than-average stats. Rin had blamed it on something he can’t even remember, maybe a stomach bug, he thinks.

Obviously, that wasn’t the case, everyone could see right through the lie but not entirely the truth of it. News outlets flooded the market with headlines shaming him for not living up to his older brother’s standards, not being a good representative for his nation, and that it was all karma for having an ‘unbearable’ personality to work with. His coaches retired after his flimsy performance and all but two of his sponsorships dropped him. Rin hasn’t officially given out a statement regarding anything.

Depression is a hell of a thing to deal with. Rin’s dealt with it in the past when Sae first moved aboard. Luckily, Sae is perceptive to this kind of thing. The daily calls helped, despite the harsh timezone differences, and eventually Rin was able to move past it. The reality of it though, is that depression never really fades away, it’s almost like an addiction. Sometimes it takes hold in a moment of weakness, one that Rin doesn’t even realize he has until it’s too late. Maybe it’s all the rigorous training, all the comparisons to his brother—he tries not to think too much about it.

He didn’t know when the feeling hit him or why it decided to affect him that day.

For the past several months, he’s been spending time gliding around their local ice rink, teaching some kids on the side to keep his mind preoccupied because, if not that, then he’ll probably end up laying in his bed all day. It works and it’s at least a healthy distraction but, at the same time, he can’t shake the gnawing feeling in his chest every time someone mentions his last performance.

Rin feels like he’s hit a wall. A thick, towering, uninviting wall. And he doesn’t know if he’s ready to face his baggage yet.

“I’m not going to do that.” He finally answers and watches as his brother’s face stays unfazed.

“I need you to.” Sae presses on. “You need to get out of whatever rut you’re in. You’re not happy and going back might help. Forget about competing in singles and join pairs.”

Sae might be talented in everything else but, like Rin, he’s bad at choosing his words and comforting. Rin knows what he means though and he can’t exactly blame him. He’s lost weight, most of it being muscle, and whenever he does get back from work, Rin holes up in his room playing horror games all night long. Rinse and repeat.

At least there’s a level of concern and sincerity behind Sae’s tone, unlike the vulture-like glee from the tabloid reporters.

“I’m…” Rin’s throat feels heavy all of a sudden and he struggles to find an excuse.

Instead of answering, he fixates his attention back to his phone, it’s a news article about Sae’s injury and his withdrawal from the skating season. The article also has a photo of you posing next to his brother, elbow resting on his shoulder while your other hand raises a peace sign towards the camera. Rin hasn’t heard much about you, not that he actively keeps up with any of his competitors, but Sae has mentioned your name here and there before since you both share the same coach.

From what Rin knows, you started skating around the same age as him. You won a few local competitions and managed a bronze medal in the women’s singles category during the Japan Skating Championships. Supposedly, this year you’re attempting to take a shot at qualifying for the Grand Prix Final for pairs. With Sae out of the picture, Rin really hopes the responsibility doesn’t fall on him.

The look that Sae is currently shooting at him is making him backtrack his thoughts.

“It’ll be good for you,” his brother reiterates. Sae scoots closer to the edge and plucks the phone out of Rin’s grasp. “Plus, I already told her that you would do it.”

Rin’s eyes widen. “You did what?”

Sae hums, and taps his fingers away at the screen, before handing it back to him with your contact information placed in. “She’s actually on her way over here.”

“I haven’t even—”

Sae throws a hand up. “No, you don’t get a choice, Rin.”

Despite being three years younger than Sae, you had no issues barging into his room, suitcase in hand and hair in a frenzy. Rin is still seated, having to process his brother’s ridiculous request and now having to make himself semi-presentable to you. He also eyes the suitcase because… there’s no way that you’re actually staying with them right?

“Hope the flight here wasn’t too rough,” His brother starts casually.

Your cheeks are puffed out, eyes slightly baggy from the presumably restless flight, and you let out an exasperated sigh. “I hope you know that I didn’t tell coach about any of this.”

“Any of what?” Sae asks slowly. Now Rin is internally panicking.

Your eyes fall on him and they sparkle in recognition for a brief moment before you turn your attention back to his brother. “Um, that I flew all the way from Madrid to Tokyo?”

“I thought you said he approved of it.” Sae looks visibly annoyed.

You give a sheepish shrug and try to smile. “Yeah, I might’ve lied a bit.” It looks like you can’t decide if you want to be embarrassed by this fact or want to burst into tears.

Now it’s Sae’s turn to sigh. “Well, you’re already here so there’s no point. I’ll come up with something if Ego asks.”

You’ve made yourself practically at home within the next hour. Sae had told you that you could transform their home office space into your bedroom for the next several months in preparation for the competition, much to Rin’s protests. Right now, your makeshift living space composes of a shitty air mattress that Rin had in his closet since childhood and one of Sae’s extra pillows and blankets. You still need an actual mattress and a bedframe, and Rin doesn’t know if he wants to suggest the local hardware shop down the street. Because, if he does do that, it’ll mean he’ll be accepting his fate for the next upcoming year.

“Are you guys both hungry for dinner? I can whip up something real quick!” You’re saying this as if you’ve been living with them forever. It throws Rin off but Sae is unphased by your informality.

“Pork katsu curry sounds nice.” Sae muses from the living room couch. He’s streaming a figure skating compilation video from the previous Winter Olympics on the TV while jotting down some notes on his phone. “Why don’t you help her out, Rin?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yeah,” and Sae lifts his eyes away from the screen to give him a knowing look. “You have to.”

Three protein shakes. A pack of half-eaten grapes. And two boxes of forgotten leftovers from god knows how long ago. There’s not much in Rin’s fridge. His parents have been traveling around the world ever since he got back and usually, Rin would just get himself takeout to save some time. When he rummages through his pantry, he almost feels embarrassed by how barren it feels. A box of cup ramen, some curry cubes, and a small bag of rice on the bottom. It would honestly be better just to order takeout than to bother cooking up something less satisfying.

“We should—”

“Let’s go to the store!” Of course, you offer that up. Rin can feel his shoulders immediately tensing when he sees you grabbing your jacket and wallet.

Sae throws him another penetrating gaze and Rin recedes. “Give me a second.” And maybe a drink or two.

You’re the complete opposite of what Rin expected.

Bright, bubbly, and almost downright annoying. It reminds him of how he used to act when he was younger.

The first few minutes of the walk are silent not because Rin doesn’t know what to say but because he doesn’t want to say anything. His mind drifts off to an MMO he’s been currently playing with two of his ‘friends’ that he made during his last competition — if you count only exchanging numbers for the sake of playing games and talking about nothing else. That’s what friends do, right? It’s evening and, if it weren’t for Sae and you, he could be online right now, clearing a dungeon with them. This week is a double drop event and he’s going to miss out on it because you want to buy katsu curry ingredients.

After passing the third block in the neighborhood, you start to see a few local shops and grocery stores lined up down an alleyway. There are more locals around, some are walking their dogs, others sweeping the sides of their house entrances. You decide to take this time to finally talk to him.

“Who’s your favorite skater?” It comes out as a blurt like you’ve been holding it in.

Rin blinks. “What kind of question is that?”

“A normal one,” You pick up a small shopping cart by the entrance and make a beeline towards the produce section. “Plus it can tell you a lot about a person.”

Can it really? “You first then,” Rin tells you.

You answer without much thought, throwing a couple of apples and potatoes into the cart. “Has to be Nathan Chen! He’s super bold and flashy with his programs.” He’s heard of him before, Rin thinks he’s around the same age as his brother.

“Yuzuru Hanyu.” He answers right after.

You make a noise, and Rin assumes it’s a good one by the way you’re smiling. “I can definitely see that, he’s really elegant when he skates.”

The two of you fall silent again but it’s a bit bearable. You finish off by buying pork, onions, and a few soft drinks before heading over to the self-checkout. Rin pays for the entirety of the grocery run since it’s mainly his fault for having an empty fridge. If he had kept up with a healthier lifestyle then maybe he wouldn’t be in this current mess.

Dinner, for all things considered, doesn’t go horribly. It’s been months since Rin has picked up a knife, let alone use his cutting board, and you’re nice enough to show him how to properly score meat. And yeah, he just learned what scoring meant outside of sports. He’s learning a lot today.

Adding apple chunks to the curry really made an immense difference. Tastes a lot sweeter but also comforting. The pork comes out crispy and tender enough for him to easily bite through and practically melts on his tongue. Maybe he should get back into cooking soon.

Sae wipes his mouth before setting down his utensils. “I’ve also taken the liberty to coach you guys too, so don’t let me down.”

You blink. Rin looks like he’s going to drop his fork on his plate. He seems to catch himself though, and for just a moment. Your heads both tip to the side, and there’s a strange moment of eye contact, one where you are nervously glancing at Sae, and Sae is caught in a strange back-and-forth with Rin.

Yeah, Rin is learning more today compared to the average person.

The next day at the ice rink is a surreal experience for Rin. A year ago, when he did skate professionally, he was used to practicing alone or occasionally sharing the rink with a few other skaters, but now there's a new dynamic—a pair dynamic. You and him. The thought alone sends shivers down his spine, and not the good kind.

Sae is sitting on the side, his injured leg propped up on a chair, and he's observing with a critical eye. Rin can feel the pressure, not just from the expectation of his brother, but also from the fact that you're now involved. His comfort zone has been invaded.

“Let's start with some basic warm-up moves,” Sae suggests, and Rin reluctantly nods.

The two of you glide on the ice, trying to synchronize your movements to a random classical tune that his brother placed on shuffle. Claire de Lune—he’s warmed up to this song plenty of times before. It's awkward at first, the pacing and speed is off, and you’re both too tensed to initiate physical contact.

“You need to trust each other,” Sae instructs, his voice echoing in the cold rink.

Rin shoots him a dirty glare. Trust has never been his strong suit, especially not with someone new.

You decide to break the ice, quite literally, by attempting a lift. Rin braces himself as you come at him with speed, and then, in a moment that feels like slow motion, he lifts you off the ground. Success. You're now spinning in the air, and Rin is holding his breath, hoping he doesn't drop you.

“That was good, Rin!” you exclaim when you land back on the ice.

He's slightly out of breath, both from the physical exertion and the anxiety that came with it. “Yeah, great,” he mutters, avoiding eye contact.

After what seems like an eternity, Rin begins to find a rhythm. It's still not perfect, he’s not used to skinship so he can tell his grip around you is either too firm or barely there. Sae’s a rough teacher and quite possibly the king at micromanaging, the two of you bond quietly over the fact. Rin also learns that you’re pretty good at hydroblading and the Biellmann spin. Well, you’re pretty good at a lot of things. He’s surprised that you haven’t tried out for more international competitions prior.

By the end of the day, both of you are exhausted—well, you look fine, it’s more like Rin feels like his quads are about to burn off. This is the most he’s done physically and with his career in the last several months. Sae, with his usual unreadable expression, nods approvingly.

“You’ve got potential,” he comments, and Rin is unsure if it's a compliment or just a statement of fact. “So, what’s the theme?”

Right. They need to figure out that first before deciding on anything else. Rin has always struggled with coming up with themes and settles with essentially the same one every year since he feels comfortable with it. The past years he’s played around with ‘solitude’, ‘dormant’, and ‘night’—and all of his programs contained dark, moody instrumentals that went along with it.

You’re shuffling awkwardly by the benches, fiddling with your gym bag, and raise a hesitant hand. “How do we feel about ‘love’?”

Rin tightens his lips. “Isn’t that kind of vague?”

“Weren’t all of your themes the same?” Sae shoots back and it makes him quiet. “What songs did you have in mind?”

You’re quick to pull out your phone, a playlist pops up with songs that you’ve either wanted to skate or skated to. The song choices aren’t bad, most of them being soundtracks from musicals and pop artists.

“This Love.”

Rin lets out a loud scoff. “Guess you’re into that sappy stuff.” He remembers one of his skating colleagues was floating around the idea of skating to that song when they first jumped into a relationship but decided to shelve it once they found another person.

“It’s a good song,” You say with a huff, to which Rin only rolls his eyes.

“Guys,” Sae claps his hands three times, a signal that Rin recognizes from his earlier childhood days of basically saying ‘shut the fuck up’. “I need you to work together.”

Your index finger jabs into Rin’s ribcage. He manages to hold back every fiber in his body to not yell at you, especially not when Sae is staring right at him. “If you’re going to make a comeback, I think maybe you should get back on social media again to promote!”

“I’ll sleep on it.” He says with a clenched jaw and furrowed brow.

“We’ll see you later back home, gonna do a couple of laps around the neighborhood before we end the night.” You’re lacing up your sneakers while Sae grabs his car keys. Rin assumes his brother is just going to be ‘encouraging you’ from the driver’s seat. Classic big brother move.

“Sure thing,” It’s the tone that says he’s decided. He’s done. End of discussion. Rin just really wants to lay in his bed right now.

As he walks home, Rin mulls over your suggestion and decides to reinstall some of his social media apps. Surprisingly enough, he still remembers his passwords (he definitely does not have the same password for everything, nope) and immediately logs onto Instagram, fighting back the weird twists and turns in his stomach as the app slowly loads.

There are maybe over a hundred notifications in his DMs, most of which are from random strangers giving half-assed ‘advice’ on how he can be a better skater and some messages from people he’s skated against asking how he was doing. He starts from the bottom of his inbox and recognizes a few of their usernames.

itsyoiboi — sent ten months ago are you doing alright? let me know if you need anything

hyo.chigiri — sent nine months ago Just checking up on you. Coach told me that you left.

megugu_skates— sent nine months ago (。┰ω┰。) rinrinrin!! dont tell me ur quitting for good?? =͟͟͞͞ =͟͟͞͞ ﾍ ( ´ Д `)ﾉ (⋟﹏⋞) u have to come back!!

baroushouei — sent eight months ago Hey, get your head out of your ass. We’re all worried about you.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Rin semi-appericates the sentiment but he didn’t ask for it. He doesn’t need any of them checking up on him for the sake of it. None of them were ever close to him so why bother?

He eventually reaches back to the top of his inbox. What Rin didn’t expect was to see a message from you.

yn.is.here — sent a week ago um hi there!! sorry we haven’t officially met before but your brother said you’ll be able to help me compete in skate pairs?? he told me that you’re thinking about coming back this season. sorry if this comes off as weird!

Ugh, of course, his brother would plan this whole thing behind his back. It doesn’t surprise him, and it explains why any of this is happening.

When he finally gets back home, he kicks off his shoes and heads straight to his bedroom. Rin plops and eases his back into the mattress, thumb rummaging through his photo album and trying to find a dumb professional photo to post on his page for stupid promotion purposes. He’s about to pick out an old photo from nearly two years ago when your text notification pops up. You sent over ten attachments—guess Sae took photos and videos from today’s practice run.

Rin shifts through the options before settling on a photo with the two of you in it. You’re both gliding side by side, hands barely touching. He looks scruffy, well he looks scruffy in all of them, the smile he tried to make came out more like a scowl, while you look like a complete natural—what’s new? On top of his skating, Rin needs to work on smiling and his skincare routine next.

Rin uploads the picture with a simple caption, ‘im back’, and turns off his notifications. He’ll worry about the lousy reporters tomorrow morning.

[DISCUSSION THREAD] Rin Itoshi's Icy Resurgence, Unraveling the Mystery Girl, and the Journey Without His Brother by [MOD] Dooby

In the world of figure skating, Rin Itoshi is no stranger to both triumphs and challenges. The seasoned skater, known for his graceful performances and technical prowess, recently made headlines by returning to the ice after a brief hiatus. Taking the place of his brother in the figure skating pairs category, Rin has partnered with the talented and rising star, Y/N, to form an unexpected yet promising duo.

[yurio.fan.cl0b] - 17 minutes ago he’s going to make an embarrassment out of himself AGAIN just go back into hiding [VICChan] - 15 minutes ago Lololol he thinks that piggybacking off another skater it’ll guarantee a gold medal lolol who is even y/n anyway… never heard of her???? [porkkatsu] - 14 minutes ago shes a nobody just like rin *shrugs* [ISAGINUMBERONE] - 12 minutes ago ^ been a rin itoshi fan since day one — i believe that he’ll make a great comeback!! rin if you’re reading this please ignore the haters! [itsJJStyleX0X0] - 9 minutes ago are you actually an idiot? there’s no way that they’re going to take gold, not at the level he’s currently at. compared to his brother, rin’s past performance was sloppy and weak. if he’s going to win gold then he’ll probably end up doping himself [SaeItoshisWIFE] - 7 minutes ago Can we please refrain from spreading rumors like this? Doping is a serious accusation to make…

next rink!

a/n: ok... i meant to keep this in my drafts until i finish it but then i realized it would've been like... way too long with the number of scenes i wanted to write.... so here's some content until the next part bleh >:(( i need to fixate on one project at a time but at the same time i love sharing stuff w you guys haha

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x female reader #heavily inspired by yuri on ice duh #rin is katsuki yuri here (kinda)#also posted during the grand prix figure skating comp!!#cw: depression #cw: mental health

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sant-riley · 1 year

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is it ok to request some headcannons with the team? if so, could you do a reader that’s covered in tattoos? like heavily tattooed. even their fingers. right? anyways, the reader is always covered during missions (like ghost level covered) and the team have subconsciously created this image of them under it all but haven’t really seen them until one day reader is wearing normal clothes and they’re like 🧍‍♀️ what? you have tattoos and like barely any skin 🧍‍♀️ IDK I JUST THOUGHT IT WOULD BE CUTE NVM THOUGH IF U DONT WANNA WRITE ❤️ NO ISSUE IF YOU DONT!

[Task force 141 and Laswell with reader who has a lot of tattoos)

A/N: I am not heavily tattooed yet but I did love this request sm soooo here this is :) Ty for the suggestion and I hope you enjoy!

They can’t really be blamed for not knowing about the tattoos, y’all are all covered typically in heavy gear and clothing and weapons most of the time. And they don’t question it when you’re covered up even more than usual bc yk, Ghost exists walking around in a Halloween costume 365 days a year. They’re used to it so they won’t prod.

Most task force members have tattoos of their own, it’s not a strange concept but they just assume you have none, they see you covered up and that’s that.

But then one day, let’s say there’s a mission and you guys get fucking d r e n c h e d in water, and you’re in a cold climate so leaving your clothes on is not an option. They need to dry by the fire and you cannot catch hypothermia.

Whatever reason you cover up, you know it’s only logical so you shyly take off your gear, quickly going by the fire while the guys quietly stare at your figure, staring at the ink decorating your body. Yes you’re beautiful and yes it’s their first time seeing so much of your skin but is that a fucking narwhal on your arm-

You have to snap at them to quit their staring bc you think they’re only staring at your chest or at your underwear but soap just blurts out “YOU ‘AVE TATTOOS?” And everyone else nods.

Individual reactions:

Ghost:

Ghost fucking loves it so much, he could stare at your tattoos for hours on end. He rolls up his sleeves to show you the ones decorating his forearms, letting you trace your fingers over the skull and withholding a shudder.

He immediately brings his hand up and traces yours back, asking questions about them and how long they took with you sitting in the chair, grunting in response as he zones out.

Asks why you cover them up as often as you do but when you send him that look he quickly says never mind.

Soap:

He immediately asks you about the meaning (if you have any for them). He admires them and thinks they make you look beautiful and badass.

He also will take a marker and draw ones on your empty bits of skin and color any grayscale tattoos you have.

If you were to ever get one of his doodles or drawings tattooed he would probably tear up on the spot. Also maybe kiss you stupid bc wow you have something from him on your skin forever and he loves you sm.

Would design y’all matching pieces, in your line of work tomorrow isn’t guaranteed so if you’re down, he’ll make the appointment for you both.

Price:

I personally don’t think Price has tattoos or would ever get any bc he doesn't care for them but he has an appreciation for yours.

Everyone would think he would be the type to talk down on them but all he said to you was “do you like ‘em? You do? Then why the fuck would I care?”

In between breaks, he’ll casually ask if you got any new ones and that he’d like to see them.

Gaz:

Gaz doesn’t have any but that’s just because he can’t fully decide on what he’d get, he’s young like you and cannot handle the commitment.

Therefore he lives by you and eagerly encourages all your ink and will always go with you to your tattoo session if he’s free.

He’s the best kind of person to have come along esp for long sessions bc he’ll go get you food, drinks, etc while he sits with you.

He always says he’s gonna get one when he goes with but always said never mind lmao.

Bonus <3 Laswell:

Now she's no stranger to ink, she's not covered up but she does have a matching tattoos with her wife and a few small patches of her wedding flowers on her.

She absolutely adores your ink and will not hesitate to defend you and it if someone were to disrespect you bc of what you've done with YOUR body.

She's a mom what can I say, she knows her authority and won't be shy to use it.

Taglist:

@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess

@stupid-ninja @milkmily

@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii

@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel

@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains

@marsbar127xx @baddump

@xncasi @king-cookiex

@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager

@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom @solarslushee @areislol

@cluelessyasmin @sesshomaruwaifu @chaos-unchecked @kalamataolivesssss @arunasmisfortune @tbrfic

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aliveinacoffin · 11 months

Text

A Difference In Fate

You knew Miguel had been hiding something from you, you just didn't know what. Stupidly, you thought the best of him.

TW: Agressive Miguel lmao

You weren't meant to find out.

Miguel wasn't sure for how long he'd hide it from you. Maybe a month, a year, forever. It didn't matter.

He'd only known you for a short amount of time, but he knew he was too late when he started to worry about what you thought about him. When Miguel told you about what happened to Gabrila and that universe, he felt a deep shame he'd never felt before. Yes, he lived with the guilt that came from destroying an entire fucking universe and all the billions of innocent people inside, but he was also terrified that you'd leave him because of it.

When you didn't, after a night of tears and shame, he knew he'd never let you go. Even if it killed him.

Which is why he lied, when he had that meeting about Miles that you had missed, he lied and said that it was nothing.

When you asked why Lyla wouldn't give you a rundown of the meeting, he lied again and said it must be faulty in her coding, and that the files couldn't be recovered.

Sure he felt guilty about lying to you, but he more so felt a sense of anxiety about when you'd find out, not if.

Another thing Miguel loved and appreciated about you, was that you were incredibly acute and intelligent. Nothing ever went past you when it came to people or plans. You always quickly noticed the small details or came up with new strategies.

That, and that you were just incredibly fucking lucky.

___________________________________________

"So, what do you think about that last meeting?" Peter B. Parker from Earth 616B asked you, catching you off guard from the paper you were reading. His tired eyes and five o'clock shadow seemed worse than ever. He seemed to be having a rough day since the whole morning he had been mostly silent, like there was a weight in his mind holding him down to drag him to the depths of hell.

"Oh, I didn't make it. What was it about, anyway?" You shrugged, spider mask pulled up to your forehead to take a bite out to the 'Original Spiderman Burger'

He stared at you for a bit, blue eyes watching your movements. "Did Miguel not tell you?" He asked, genuinely taken aback at your lack of knowledge of the situation.

You chewed quickly, covering your mouth while trying to answer as fast as you could. "No, and he still won't. I want to know! Was it about something embarrassing?" You laughed, grabbing your drink.

"It was about the anomaly." Peter said, voice curt and timid.

You raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior, usually, you and Peter easily bounced off one another, both your jovial and rather silly personalities perfect companies for each other. To see him being so quiet with you was worrying.

"I got that man, just tell me, I don't bite. My teeth aren't as sharp as Miguels." You elbowed him, smiling like you would a timid cat. You took another drink to try and give off a relaxed aura, but inside your heart was picking up with his lack of relaxation.

"It's-the anomaly is the kid I talk to you about all the time. He was never meant to be a Spider-Man. We're not allowed to interact with him in any way until we figure out a way to find a solution." Peter said solemnly, turning to hunch over his uneaten food. His own masked burger staring back at him.

You scoffed with liquid in your mouth, swallowing before giving out a barking laugh. "What does that even mean? Not meant to be Spider-Man, who's meant to be Spider-Man? It just happens, it's luck not fate." You grumbled, face screwed up half in disbelief and half in genuine confusion. Suddenly you jerked up in shock, and quickly turned to the older man.

"Isn't he the kid that made you want to have a baby in the first place?" You placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, feeling his cold shoulder through the soft fabric of his suit.

"Yeah." Was all he said, a grave look on his face.

You tilted his shoulder at you, and watched his eyes slowly move over to your kind face. "Hey man, don't worry about it. Miguel seems tough, but on the inside, he's just a big softie. Trust me, I'd know. I sleep with the man every night. We'll figure it out, alright?" You reassured him, smiling brightly at him.

Peter looked down again and hit his fist on the counter. "Yeah, you're right. It always works out in the end, huh?" Peter's voice was strong like all the hope he had lost was now found and stronger than ever.

___________________________________________

"It's kind of sad, you know? Like, it wasn't his fault he wasn't supposed to be Spider-Man." Pavitr Prabhakar said, hands deftly working to fidget with his yo-yo.

Both your guy's hair swayed softly in the warm Mubattan air. You played with the bottom of your spider suit feet. "Yeah, sounds like he's just a kid."

"Well, I'm sure it'll figure itself out, after all, we're all Spider-People right? Everything is great!" Pavitrs voice got fainter as he whipped away, probably going off to swing around Gayatri's neighborhood.

You looked off into the sunset, eyes squinting at the bright light of the sun. Still, you basked in the warmth as you sat, just pondering and mulling over your feelings over the whole situation.

You liked Pav, as you've all started calling him, his happy-go-lucky and glass-half-full personality was infectious, and he was overall just a joy to be around.

It made you have a gut-wrenching bad feeling, especially since he hadn't had his canon event yet. You wished there was a way for him to just be happy and be Spider-Man without the life-altering loss that came with it.

___________________________________________

"That's the price you have to pay when you become Spider-Man." Miguel said later that evening, sitting at the table while he filtered through emails, videos, and reports.

You came over and kissed his head, swiping away all the red screens taking over your shared table. Instead, you replaced his work with food, more specifically asada quesadillas.

"Okay sure, but he's just a kid y'know? Like, he's barely able to drive a car and now has this duty to protect a whole ass city. Let alone deal with an unbearable loss that would break a full gown adult." You challenged, staring at your boyfriend across the table. You had brought up your feelings about Pav and how the guilt of his misfortune weighted you down.

You still haven't told him that you know about the kid. Miles. For some reason, a part of yourself told you that you should. That you should hide that knowledge because for some reason a part of you thought he'd be upset. No, knew he'd be mad.

"It's the fate of the universe." He sighed, eating his food as if the whole conversation was boring.

"But what does that mean? Doesn't fate bring in the idea of gods or goddesses? A higher power saying this should be the way? And what about destiny? Then doesn't that bring in the question of whether or not it's real, let alone that we have to abide by those rules?" You started, rambling about the subject. This whole situation seemed wrong, like Miguel's ideals weren't quite right. You knew Miguel was intelligent, insanely so that he created his own AI and created a multi-diversional portal travel and created a society within his universe to combat world-breaking enemies.

Still. Something about this was wrong.

Miguel growled out your name, dropping his food on his plate to stare at you so intensely it made you gulp. He clenched his fists on the table, obviously trying to hold back his anger before he spoke to you.

"You know what happened to me when I tried to break the rules. God or not, things happen for a reason." Miguel said, eyes lowering to try and continue eating.

"What about us? We're from different universes, yet we live together, and we're dating. Are we fate? Or are we pure coincidence?" You asked, trying to get him to explain in a more logical reasoning like you know he's capable of.

Miguel slammed his fist on the table, rattling the dishes placed down and you. "Can we drop this? This conversation is going nowhere." He was getting angry, you could tell. But still, something in you nagged and ate away at your soul.

"Yes, perdón amor." Your eyes fluttered down, and you gulped away the hot stinging of your throat.

"I'm sorry hermosa, but you know this is the only way." Miguel offered, holding his hand out across the table to reassure you.

You met him halfway, and smiled at him shakily. Still, you didn't believe him.

___________________________________________

"He was your friend?" You asked curiously while you went over the blueprints for the watches. You wanted to customize yours further, so you invaded Lyla's security, (asked pretty please), and now were trying to see what changes you could make.

Gwen Stacy was behind you, arms crossed while she looked to a wall, dissociating. "Yeah, and I can't see him at all even though I want to. So badly." She sighed, tired eyes looking down. You looked back to her, offering a sad smile.

"We'll figure it out honey, I'm sure."

"Why are you dating Miguel?" She suddenly asked, and at those words, you whipped around and gave her an incredulous look. Your hands on your hips with a disbelieving smile.

Both of you looked up to see Hobart walking in, sauntering over to your workstation. "Hey." He nodded up to both of you, immediately going through your files.

Both you and Gwen greeted him before you turned your attention back to the girl. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're just so nice and understanding while Miguel is...well Miguel." She said, exasperation filling her voice.

You laughed, brushing her off. "Hes not that complicated, just rough around the edges, I promise."

"What do they say, love is blind?" Hobie spoke up, eyes hyper-focused on the watch details.

"That's not applicable to this." You waved him off. Walking over, you put both hands on Gwen's slim arms, giving them a grounding squeeze. "Everything will be fine, we just need time to figure out a solution to this problem yeah? Miguel and everyone else has been aware of this problem for a while, it's just now it has a name!" You smile, trying to uplift the depressing mood.

"Yeah, and his name is Miles Morales, a sixteen-year-old kid." Hobie said, his hands drifting down from whatever he was doing with his watch.

You sighed, hanging your head down before you walked back over to your table. "Thank you for the optimism Hobie."

"You're welcome." With that, he walked out.

___________________________________________

That conversation went the same with Jess and many other members of the spider society, saying that 'taking care of' Miles would be for the greater good.

But what is the greater good? What good were the protecting? Apparently, Miles's universe has been doing fine so far, what's so wrong with that?

Apparently, his whole existence was flawed.

At the end of that day, when everyone either went home or started a night shift to find out where Miles had gone, Miguel returned home.

When he opened the door, he half expected you to be at the table or living room searching for Miles for him, to be directing people, or actively searching for him with Miguel. Of course, he knew you really wouldn't be.

Miguel only returned home to check up on you, after everything.

The whole time you had stood back, and without his knowledge helped Miles escape Miguel's wrath. But he didn't know that.

The front door creaked open, and Miguel was greeted with a dark and quiet house. The only light that was seen was the yellow light of your shared bedroom down the hall.

When he closed the door and silently crept in his own home, he could hear quiet sobbing coming from the room

"Amor?" He peeked in his room, fully stepping in at seeing your hunched-over form. Basically in the fetal position, sitting at the edge of your bed you had your hands on your head.

You looked up, and when he saw your face he immediately stepped back. Rage still filled him, but seeing you made him completely break down.

Your face was one of pure fury, an anger so deep and true it morphed your wet face into something unnatural. Your hair was wild and messy, your face also covered in small scratches form god knows what, and your knuckles were white from how hard you were clenching them.

"What the actual fuck are you doing here? Don't you have a child to murder?" Your snarled mouth pulled back to show off your teeth. Even though you didn't have fangs like him, doesn't mean a bite from you wouldn't hurt.

Instantly, Miguel snapped back. "Don't you dare-"

"No, shut the fuck up. What the fuck was that? Who even are you?" You asked, standing up to your full height.

"I was-am stopping an anomaly from destroying the entire multiverse. I'm saving-" Miguel's voice was raising by the word, his large build hunching over to try and intimidate you.

"Don't talk about him like he's not a child! Don't act like you're not hunting down a literal child? What is wrong with you?!" You screamed, voice raw from the running and crying you'd done all day.

"This. This is what I didn't want to tell you! You don't understand the gravity of the situation! Pinche-" He started, eyes glowing that sparkling red you had grown to love after the long three years you'd known Miguel.

Now they just disgusted you.

"I knew! I've known this whole fucking time! But I trusted you to know what to do, because I love you, and I know you're so smart. But this? I-i can't-" You turned around, hands shakily typing frantically into your watch.

"Lo siento, lo siento preciosa, no quise gritar-" Suddenly Miguels voice was filled with sorrow, and he reached out to hold you in his arms. The same arms that held you, cradled you, strapped you down, and lifted you up.

"Stop, just stop." You sobbed, quickly opening a portal to god knows where, just anywhere but here-

Miguel called out your name, and you turned around to see his eyes piling with tears. His face twisted into the most pained face you've ever seen, his fangs popping out of his lips, his mouth pulled back to a vicious snarl, and his eyebrows furrowed down so deep he grew another crease in his forehead.

You looked down to hold back another sob, shaking your head while walking closer to the portal.

You didn't even glace back at him when you left.

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archangeldyke-all · 5 months

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I feel like if Vika had a baby she wouldn’t baby talk and have full on conversations with them. Like she’ll tell the baby how whiskey prices went up and how “fucking stupid” it is, or she’ll talk about some new kid at her job and how “the fucker” can’t do anything right LMAO

sugar u r the smartest person i know

men and minors dni

you and everyone who meets the baby talk to her like anybody talks to a baby, cooing and exaggerating and using an exaggerated baby voice.

your typical conversations with your kid for the first year of her life go something like 'awe, do you have a poopy? sweet baby made a big poopy.' or 'can you say: mama? mmmma mmmma?'

sevika, however, talks to your kid like she's an old friend.

you'll catch her feeding your daughter baby food, scooping up the goop that falls down onto her chin as she chats. "fuckin' silco was gettin' on my last nerve today. would you be pissed if we revoked his 'godfather' status? i know he spoils you, but i think we could find a suitable replacement, someone who doesn't have their head stuck up their ass. he thinks he runs the fuckin' place, he forgets we're co-owners. co. that means both. you're so lucky you don't have to work, you know that? you've got it made, kid, shit, you don't even have to feed yourself."

or, after you've had a long day at home with the little fucker, who's been screaming her head off and refusing to latch onto your tits to drink, you overhear sevika talking to her as she gently dances her around the living room. "you gotta give your mom a break, kid. i know you're probably sicka breast milk, but it's important you drink it, it's got all kindsa good shit in it that'll make you strong. like this, see?" she asks as she flexes the arm not holding your daughter. "keep drinkin' your milk and you'll be as strong as me in no time. well, you'll have to have a pretty strict workout regiment too, it's not all genetic. though, don't tell your mom, but i'm glad you've got my build-- she's a little wimp. you're strong like me. she hates it 'cause you came out so big 'n tore her pussy apart comin' out but i think it's great. you'll be a great athlete once you figure out the whole walkin' thing..."

or at bathtime, while she's got your baby in the sink, gently shampooing the two or three hairs on her head, you're guaranteed to find her catching your daughter up on the latest drama on the soap opera she swears she doesn't watch. "i know, it's fuckin' crazy! but, then, get this, molly, the homewrecker from season three? she shows up pregnant, swearing it's travis' kid! mind you, this is all at a funeral-- at shepard's funeral!" your daughter coos. "oh, shepard's the one who came out gay in season four but then decided to marry miriam in season five, because she needed her greencard." your daughter coos again, and sevika takes this as understanding. "right, you remember. anyways this pregnant bitch molly comes marching in while we're all crying because shep's dead, and she's like 'everybody look at me and my big fat belly!' turns out? she's stuffing her stomach with blankets..."

the funniest thing is that your daughter seems to understand it all, blinking up at sevika with big, interested eyes, absorbing her every word, cooing when she's silent, like she's responding to sevika's commentary.

after a while, it starts to rub off on you, and pretty soon, both you and sevika are talking to your little girl like she's an adult.

it's all fun and games until she starts talking, and her first words are 'fuck' and 'mama' and 'dickhead' and 'milk'

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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gaiathemexicanbeauty · 7 months

Text

it only takes a taste | mike schmidt x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none! this is just pure fluff and maybe kind of slowburnish lol

this was loosely based off of it only takes a taste from the waitress musical! :3

idk i just really like the idea of late nights with mike even if he's too tired to even think straight lmao

also don't ask what time period this takes place in, i was born in 2004 and know like 2 things about the 70s-90s or whenever the movie takes place bc its never explicitly mentioned

i also do not regularly bake or cook so do not be afraid to go to my comment section and tell me if something sounds off

i love this man ok, i have said it 1000 times already but i've been in love with him ever since i first saw him when i was like 12 or 13 and was even more so obsessed with rebornica's mike design for YEARS. 12 year old me would have an aneurism if she knew about the fnaf movie

you let out a long yawn, one hand reaching up cover your mouth so as not to potentially ruin the mood of any customers around; granted, there was only two and they were graveyard shifters from somewhere outside of town but customers are customers. you'd been working at sparky's for a couple of months now, figuring it was an easy way to make some cash and keep food on the table. of course, you hadn't accounted for the very long hours that passed where you half debated trying to sneak away since no was around from 2-4:00 am: your boss would kill you, though, and you wanted to stay employed.

soft oldies music plays in the background as you glance over at the clock ticking away on the wall. just as you move to grab a rag to clean the counters for the 5th time during your shift, you hear the bell above the entrance jingle and don't even have to look up to know who it is.

mike wasn't a regular at first, just someone who popped in at random and very quietly asked for a coffee. after a while of starting a new job, he started coming in at almost 11:00 pm everyday and always asking for the same thing: just a plain, black coffee. "seriously?" you had said with a smirk the first time he said his order to you, your eyes widening at the attitude you had just given a customer. fortunately, mike was quick to respond with a tired but good natured laugh, his hands folded in front of him. "i'm all ears if you have other recommendations." he mumbled with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, giving you instant relief.

now, it was just clockwork. "hey." mike sighs with a soft sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he takes a seat at a chair by the counter you were standing behind. "coffee machine is kind of acting up tonight, you're gonna have to give it a minute. want anything else while you wait?" you say as you approach the counter, giving him a quick smile. mike is about to decline your offer, his lips parting to say something before his eyes land on something on the farther end of the counter. "what about that? still good?" "you're just in time. i was going to take the rest of it home." you say with a smile, walking over to the cake stand holding an apple pie with only 3 slices left of it. you take the lid off to plate it, handing it over to mike with a hum before bringing him utensils. you don't even get the chance to bring up to him that the slices have been sitting there for a couple of hours, blinking in shock at the way he's quick to start eating.

you turn your back to start taking down the chalkboard advertising the special from the day before, giving mike his one moment of quiet you were sure he needed. you start to think about what your day will consist of once you're done with your shift, dreading having to clean your room before you can actually sleep. "did you make this?" "yeah. why, is it bad?" you say with a chuckle, turning to look at mike again; your eyes widen a bit at the way mike is looking at you, his own eyes looking at you like he can't believe what he just put it in his mouth. "no, no, it's..it's really good, like. really good." your cheeks redden a bit at the sudden compliment, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear as you occasionally glance at him enjoying the pie you'd made; you wouldn't say you were amazing at cooking but you definitely knew enough to make a meal that would do more than just feed you.

it also didn't help that you'd been harboring a crush on mike for the past month. that you were aware of, he didn't have a partner of any kind but that might have been more to do with the fact he didn't have time for one than anything else. you at first brushed it off as just not having contact with anyone your age that late at night, just enjoying his company when nights got lonely. but you couldn't deny the way you would style your hair a bit differently or try a new perfume in the hopes of getting a compliment from mike; to your absolute pleasure, he almost always pointed it out. now to hear this sudden praise for your cooking took you out of your element.

"thanks, really, but i make it all the time. i can make thousands like it and they'll all be the same." you say with a light chuckle, crossing your arms against your chest as you look over at the cake stand sheepishly. "then maybe you should consider getting a day job making these instead." mike says between bites, giving you a playful smile. you can't help but scoff despite the smile on your face, looking over at mike again. "well, if it's that easy, maybe YOU should quit your job and come and join me. keep me company." the two of you have a quiet laugh, your cheeks reddening at the indirect compliment you had paid him. once his plate is empty, you take it away from him just to have an excuse to do something with your hands (also to get away from the almost fond look that mike was giving you right now, definitely not on par for him). there's a tense silence between the two of you before mike speaks up, clearing his throat when he speaks. "uh, i tried making that at home. the pie, i mean. i don't remember what kind it was right now, but it definitely didn't end as well as that." he says with a nervous laugh, hands folded in front of him again as you hear the coffee machine start to pour out his drink.

"well, what exactly did you do wrong?" with surprisingly no hesitance, mike goes on to tell the story of how sure he was about this recipe he'd seen in a catalogue, going above and beyond to make sure this "stupid thing" (his words) came out right. little did he know leaving his creation unattended for even a second would result in smoke pouring out of the oven and having to throw out a charred-black pastry; "and then abby went and acted like we could just go and do it all over again and.." mike starts, hands waving around uncharacteristically as he finished off his story. he caught the way you were trying to hold back a laugh, fingers pressed to your lips that were etched into a small smile. "it's ok, you can laugh all you want. i never tried doing it again." you can't help the laugh that leaves you once he gives you his full permission, still trying to keep your voice down. "i-i'm sorry, really.." you giggle once you've calmed down, rubbing your hands over your face before you start to walk around the counter to where mike is sitting. "but that's not how making a pie works. you can't just leave it like that or give up on the process that easily."

mike makes a face that says 'i'm listening', shrugging his shoulders when you sit on the stool next to him. "making a pie is like.." you start with a sigh, hands propping up your chin in thought as you look up at the clock. "you just know when some things feel right. if something is too much or too little, whether you need to start again or not. lord knows i've had to redo entire pies because the crust wasn't flaky enough or the filling didn't taste like apples enough." you say, chuckling a bit as you remember all the times you'd slaved away for almost entire days trying to nail down the perfect home recipe. you take a minute to think again, sitting back a bit as you smooth down your apron tied around your waist. "and it also doesn't help if you make something just to make something. when you bake or just cook a plain old steak, you have to make it like you're crafting a story or making a song. all of my best meals were made with someone or something in mind."

your cheeks go red again when you realize the very unprompted ramble you went on, a nervous laugh leaving you as you look down at your lap. "sorry, you totally don't have to-" "no, no, i-" the two of you jump a bit at the way you both try to speak first, sheepish smiles tugging at your lips before you go quiet again. the bell above the door jingles and you don't have to look up to know the two of you are alone now. "i like hearing about that sort of stuff. i really only hear about it when i'm here with you and it's..nice. different." your heart soars and you can only hope that mike can't somehow feel or hear it, trying to give him a warm smile without saying something you'll regret. you get up from your seat with a when he checks his watch, knowing that's code for 'i need to go' even before he stands. you're almost sure he'll leave without saying anything which you are simultaneously grateful for and hoped he wouldn't do, already busying yourself with some other menial task. "hey."

you look up almost as soon as he speaks, seeing the smile tugging at his lips and not able to contain your own. "save those leftovers for me. i hope it still tastes like you were trying to make it for me when i get back." he says, a smug look in his eyes as your lips part a bit in shock. you try to call out to him before he jogs out to his car, taking off accordingly.

-> ta da its done! :D <-

this was honestly less romantic than i wanted it to be but i promise that my brain is racked with thoughts of him literally EVERY DAY so mayhaps i can write something else that's more up to par one of these days

but thank yall for reading! :D i haven't been able to pump out a oneshot like this for a while and it felt good to write something longer than a couple of paragraphs, i have missed this account sm 🐺💗 love yall and i hope that you all are having a fantastic day!

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf #oneshot #x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #michael schmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you

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royallyprincesslilly · 9 months

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Cautionary Tale on Carbon Monoxide

So, for the last 2 weeks or so my smoke alarm/carbon monoxide alarm has been beeping sporadically. I paid it no mind because there was no smoke, nothing was burning and I did not think it could be anything else. I assumed the alarm or batteries were going bad because they had been here forever ago.

So, we changed the batteries and bought a new alarm, and installed them through the house a week ago. The beeping stopped. However, a few days ago while I was cooking the beeping came back. Again, no smoke in the home and nothing was burning. We are searching trying to figure out why it keeps going off.

I constantly have my essential oil diffuser plugged in and running so some searches came back saying certain essential oils might set off the alarm if strong enough and my 16-year-old has been fear rubbing herself with Citronella essential oils(repellent for mosquitoes) because whenever the door opened these new breed mosquitos fly in and she is terrified if her face and body looking like a swollen pepperoni pizza🙄😂. (The concerns of a 16-year-old who was looking out for her upcoming first day of school face card status lmao)

Finally, after some YT videos and Google searches, we began to suspect it was beeping because of carbon monoxide. So we hurry and get out of the house, food still on the stove half cooked, and wait for the gas/electric company to come to investigate and fix the problem.

When the tech comes he walks inside the house and instantly the machine he carried to check the PPM set off a reading of 41. This level is highly dangerous and prolonged exposure can result in health risks and possibly death.😳

He continued to walk through the house and found pockets in the house where the PPM was 38-41(still dangerous). He goes into the kitchen and instantly says, I see your problem. He goes to the stove and points to my favorite, can't live without have used almost every time I cook 11" Copper Chef casserole pot and says this is the culprit.

Apparently, the size of the pot covers my entire burner so there is no ventilation happening under the pot which is bad. He then points to another favorite pot on the back burner and says this one is also bad because of the size of the pot. He turned on the fire under the Copper Chef pot and instantly his machine went up to 144 PPM😳.

I was appalled. He asked about how we all were feeling and asked who the cook in the house was and of course it was me✋🏽. I felt fine. I usually always have headaches and feel tired, he said I could be suffering from long-term carbon monoxide exposure and should go to the hospital to be sure.

To make this longer story just plain ol' long, I say all of this to caution you guys on pot sizes for your gas stove burners and to say it could be the things/ways you least expect.

Tips from the gas/electric company tech

-Make sure your pot is not bigger/wider than your burner flames.

-Turn on your overhead vent or open your kitchen windows when cooking for either or both of these: 1) If your pots are bigger than the burner flames or 2) To take an extra level of safety.

-If you are using bigger pots try to open closet doors throughout your home because the carbon monoxide can creep into the closed closet and remain there for hours.

-In your gas using ovens do not have any liners or protectors(the ones you put down to prevent spills or drips as you bake) on the bottom of the oven if they come anywhere near the two ventilation slits in the oven(where the flames/heat rises).

-If you have done all of the above and constantly feel lightheaded, dizzy, persistent headaches, fatigue, sleepiness, be safe and just get it checked out in the ER or Urgent Care.

Be safe out there y'all. Carbon Monoxide is known as a silent killer.

#PSA #carbon monoxide #cautionary tale #the more you know #Psa: carbon monoxide

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 5 months

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Hello~ it's me again and I swear this is my last ask (in my defense your writing is addictive)

Anyways can I request a marco (one piece) x fem head nurse reader?

Like the reader is a assistant to marco and basically leads all the nurses on the ship

And marco has this big fat crush on her ever since the day she join and he's been giving hints like giving her flowers, getting her chocolate, ect

But the reader is oblivious lol and reader is basically has this mother aura or personality

Also can you base reader's outfit a little bit like this?

The reason why the reader's uniform is different so that to the new members knows who's basically the head nurse and call for help

The two I kinda want marco freaking the hell out basically blushing from reader's outfit LMAO

Anyways HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM TIPSY ME

-Thatch nudged Marco’s shoulder lightly, “Your girlfriend is here~” Marco’s head snapped over to the door, seeing you stepping through the threshold, a warm smile on your face.

-Marco quickly turned back to his meal as Vista and Thatch grinned, teasing him which quickly got the second in command red faced.

-Marco was not at all subtle with his crush on you, however you seemed to be the only one who didn’t realize it! That was just one of the things Marco liked about you however, that you were so oblivious, it was really cute.

-Everyone on the Moby Dick knew about Marco’s crush on Head Nurse Y/N. You were beautiful, sweet, hardworking, and you were so warm-hearted- it was hard for anyone not to like you, but everyone knew you were off limits, as Marco had fallen first.

-However, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be brutal with their teasing of him, as he was too shy to go and talk to you that wasn’t about Pop’s health!

-You were easy to talk to, anyone could do it and you always made everyone feel so welcome and at ease when they came to the on-ship clinic.

-You had come to the ship to get some tea, with Pops following you in, after you just helped with his treatment and now, he wanted food. Pops headed to his normal spot but saw Marco staring at you again and he couldn’t help but chuckle, his kids were too amusing.

-You got your tea and Thatch called out, “Over here Y/N!” you looked for who called, seeing Thatch’s waving arm and you smiled warmly, starting over.

-Marco quickly had Thatch by his neck, speaking lowly, “I swear to god I will not hesitate to throw you off this ship if you try to pull anything funny!”

-Thatch laughed warmly, thinking it was funny that he was so shy, “Who me? Never!”

-You beamed brightly as you made it to them, “Hi Thatch, hi Vista, hi Marco!” they each greeted you back before the two gremlins shared a look and they both stood, “Pops is calling!” leaving you and Marco alone.

-You swear you saw his eyelid twitch in anger, looking at them before he returned to his meal, trying hard not to look at you, sending you small glances as you sipped your tea.

-You caught his eye and you smiled warmly, “How are you feeling today, Marco?” he stammered, hearing your question, seeing your attention solely on him, “I’m-I’m fine.” He seemed a bit nervous, which did confuse you, as you weren’t in the clinic, where you normally saw people being nervous.

-Your head tilted to the side in concern, “Marco?”’ he started, hearing your voice, looking directly at you and instantly his face flushed red, unable to say anything.

-You quickly stood, leaning over the table, showing off your alluring figure to everyone around as you cupped his cheeks, “You’re so red- did something happen?”

-A sound like a deflating balloon escaped him, his eyes becoming swirls which made you pull back, surprised by his reaction as his whole head turned bright red, steam coming off it before he fell backwards off his seat, landing on his back.

-Roaring laughter filled the room as you scrambled around to the other side, pulling him up, resting his head against your chest, “Marco! Speak to me! What happened?!”

-Marco was going to throw ever single person, except you, overboard as he felt like he was laying on a cloud.

-You helped him to the infirmary, helping him lie on one of the beds, but you were surprised when he caught your hand when you went to pull you away, “I’m fine, just- just stay with me.”

-You were surprised by his request but took a seat next to him on the bed, keeping a hold of his hand as he tried to calm down.

-He tried to talk, finding himself tongue tied before he inhaled, “You’re really hard to talk to.” Your eyes went wide in surprise, “I am?” he smiled, lifting his free hand from his eyes, seeing you looking down at him.

-He looked away, feeling his face flushing again, “For me you are- it’s hard to talk to you because I get so flustered. You’re amazing Y/N and I- I…” he trailed off, unable to say anything more.

-You felt your own cheeks warm at his words, not realizing he had been pining for you for so long, but him telling you outright, you quickly got the message. You looked down at your hands, seeing you were still holding his and you smiled, giving it a small squeeze, “I think you’re amazing too Marco. You’re really brave and you’re so sweet!”

-It was the second time you heard him make such an unusual sound as he became overly flustered before he tugged you down into his arms, hugging you close, surprising you.

-You smiled softly, hugging him back and he exhaled deeply. When you pulled back you beamed, “If you just wanted a hug, I would have given you one Marco.”

-The sounds of several hands slapping down on faces as they face palmed filled the infirmary as you both looked over, seeing everyone looking in, looking exasperated before you spoke, “Oh did you all need something?”

-Marco couldn’t help but grin up at you, realizing that he would be able to confess easily now, not feeling so afraid, he just had to make sure that he told you directly, exactly how he feels, so you wouldn’t misunderstand.

#one piece x reader #one piece #marco #thatch #whitebeard

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joviepog · 5 months

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Oh god this might become an issue. I’m in my hunger games phase and I’ve reread all the books and rewatched like, all the movies. So now I’m head over heels for young!coriolanus. Lmao enjoy my first BOSAS fic!

-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-

Weakness

Warnings: Mention of killing, cursing, suggestive if you squint really hard, kissing (if I missed anything let me know!)

Who: Young! Coriolanus x reader

Pronouns: She / her

Word count: 1,122 words

Tag list: @phxntomsdusk @haunted-headset @ax-y10 @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons (ask to be added)

Main plot: Corio realizes he finally has a weakness after so long, you.

This story is NOT proofread!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-

Snow is used to being the most powerful in the room. He’s used to having control. He likes having control. In all his years he had never had power until now. So when he finds out he finally has a weakness after so many years, he almost panics. Almost.

Corio would only have one weakness. Your smile. And at first, he didnt pay it any mind.

He didnt pay it any mind when you were just an option. He didnt care at all when all he cared about was if you were dutiful enough to be the first lady of Panem.

But now?

God he hated himself for not paying it any mind beforehand. Because now that you sit here, next to him in a counsel meeting, he regrets ever picking you to be his wife. The way you smile sends his heart aflame. The way your eyes close and your head tilts when you smile makes his breath hitch ever so slightly. You were like the sun in a room filled with cold hearted people. Your dress only brought out your smile more and he hated the people that let you wear such a beautiful outfit.

For so long he tried to avoid seeing you. It was more because he saw no point in seeing you. The only reason he married you was for the money and for the eyes of the people. Not for love, not for romance, and definitely not for his own selfish desires. And at first it stayed that way. He feared that the more he saw your beautiful smile, the more in danger he would become. He only saw you during important counsel meetings that you had to attend to.

At first, he was going to “get rid of you” because of his new found weakness. He was going to blame it on “natural causes” and hope he could find another wife. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He told himself that it was “just in the meantime” so that he could have time to find a new wife. But suddenly he started looking forward to those counsel meetings. And suddenly he started to see you in the hallways, or the library, or even the garden.

Totally not because he had memorized your entire schedule.

He hated how fucking weak you made him feel. He wanted to figure out why. Why had you made his heart skip a beat ever time you spoke? Why had you made him choke on his own drink when you would simply look at him with a warmhearted smile? Why was it that you had him following you like a lovesick puppy around the mansion?

Why. Why. Why

To find his answers, he started to speak to you. Only to find answers of course. When he would see you in the library he would make smalltalk. He started to dine with you instead of eating in his office. He started to walk you to your chambers to make sure you got there safe. He even walked with you in the garden on a daily just to see y- to get answers.

He wrote all his feelings down one day. Just like a child would write in a diary. And he hated it. So he burned it and made sure there was o evidence of his lovesick words. He would toss and turn every night, thinking about you, wondering why the hell he felt the way he did. He would daydream everyday at work when you weren’t there, imagining you smiling in front of him. And when you were there he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Why were you so kind? Why did you smile at him every day? Why did you bring him his favorite food twice a week to his office?Why did he feel so helpless around you?

Why. Why. Why.

He asked himself this for a whole year. He soon began to get eye bags from not sleeping enough at night due to his tossing and turning. (He had to cover them up with makeup for public appearances) He soon became fond of your walks in the garden. (Sometimes holding your hand and adding more of the flowers you liked) He soon bought you new bookmarks with different colored roses for your books. (One almost every week) He soon began to pop into your office with your favorite food twice a week just to see your smile. (Just like you had done)

He was completely clueless to his own feeling. His thought process was that it was “For you not to feel uncomfortable.” It wasn’t until one day he overheard of the maids talking about how happy he had seemed since you came that something had clicked. Every time he was with you a slime crawled on his face. Every time he looked at you his gaze softened. Hell, every time he heard your name he would instantly cheer up!

“Shit.” He grumbled as he turned around and went to find you.

‘One last test.’ He thought. ‘One last test to see if i really do love her.’

So, he barged into the library. He saw you sitting by a large window, face hidden in a book and the sunlight hitting you softly. You looked like a goddess. You perked up when you saw him, a smile appearing on your face. That damn smile was going to be the end of him. “Coriolanus! I thought you had just left for a meeting-“ You were quickly stopped when he moved the book from your hands and kissed you.

It was an angry kiss -sure- but a passionate one at that. It took you a second to process what was happening before you kissed back. He put his hand on your cheeks as he bent down to kiss you on your chair. You could only put your hands on his chest to steady yourself. After a few moments, he pulled away and put his head on yours. You both gasped for air softly and his lips were only a few centimeters away. He looked down to your lips and you blushed. “Coriolanus? What was that fo-“

“It’s Corio for you. Corio.” He interrupts. You smile, that damn smile that captivated him a year ago. “Okay then Corio. What was that for?” He pulls away and smiles at you before turning away, “Just double checking something.” He then walks away and leaves you dumbfounded on the chair. And as he walks through the long hallway of his mansion, he tastes the strawberry chapstick that you had on his lips. He smiles as he walks to his meeting. What was he going to do with you? His only weakness.

If you do want to be added on my tag list pls let me know! If you want to be taken off, private message me :)

#hunger games x reader #hunger games x yn #bosas x reader #bosas x yn #ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #ballad of songbirds and snakes x yn #young!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow x yn #young!coriolanus snow #hunger games #bosas #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #corio snow #Coriolanus

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

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Go Get Him | Part 2

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 10 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—oral (female receiving), teasing, edging, premature ejaculation (lol), sub!Daryl (ish), idk straight people sex what else do I say, swearing ❧ Word Count: 8.1k

❧ Summary: Daryl hasn't made love to you since your first time together. It's hard to imagine that he doesn't love you, but you fear perhaps you scared him away with your forwardness. That theory is disproven when he arrives at your door, like a lost, lovesick puppy.

❧ A/N: Second part to Go Get Him! Sorry this took so long, I have been busy moving and also doing grad school and trying to find a job and also just generally dealing with my family which is lowkey a pain in the ass but yeah here's the sequel, which is basically just... I mean basically this whole thing is sex. If you enjoy Daryl being a pathetic horny simp then this is for you. Also I was going to actually have them bake a peach pie and then have them like play with the food lmao but that was too much work because I would've had to look up how to make a peach pie and bestie I just wasn't gonna do that. There are still remnants of that tho with the peach thing so there's that.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were a little too in love with him. Well, you always knew you loved him, but in love? Deep, sickeningly potent, noxiously passionate, nearly burdensome, love. Even now, grinning rather foolishly at the bracelet he’d made for you from multicolored twine, you felt your heart flutter in your chest, like the movement of the vibrant ruby-throated hummingbird making its daily rounds at the nectar feeder outside your living room window.

Since that day you told him how you felt, and gotten to know each other much more intimately on the sofa you sat upon now, you hadn’t stopped thinking about him once. It was a week ago now, but it had felt like an eternity—an eternity of wondering what he was up to, holding his hand any chance you could get, asking him if he wanted to come over… And he hadn’t, not since then.

You hadn’t had a private moment with him since that day, and you began to worry now. Maybe it didn’t mean as much to him as you thought it did, but he had said he loved you, and you knew that couldn’t be just a casual statement for Daryl. He was more intentional than that, more careful with his words, which he used rather sparingly. You knew him well enough to know that his word was strong, just like him. He never said anything unless it had meaning.

And he was busy. He was always so damn busy. It was a miracle you had a chance to get him alone in the first place. Still, he hadn’t shied away from you, not like he often did before. The change in your relationship seemed to be forming gradually, despite the abruptness of last week’s midday tryst. You liked it that way, though. You might’ve known Daryl for seven years, but you hadn’t known him this intimately before, so it made sense to take things a little slow after that initial rendezvous, but you had to admit, you thought about it a little too much.

It was hard not to. After all, he might not have been your first sexual experience, far from it, but he was by far the best, not necessarily because of his technique, but because of the feelings that had been growing deep inside of you for so long. He was shy and innocent, and yet somehow sloppy and wild, in his lovemaking, and you liked it. With time, you were sure he’d learn exactly how to please you, and you were sure you’d figure out his needs and desires, too, but that couldn’t be done if Daryl didn’t at least try to find time to make love to you.

All he’d done was peck your lips gently and quickly, hoping no one else would see, and hold your hand with loosely curled fingers, so he could quickly jerk it away if anyone saw. Still, he looked at you in a new way, you could see it in his eyes. They were more relaxed, hazy, almost as if he’d just been lulled into a dream. You didn’t know it, of course, but you were in that dream, and he thought about that day perhaps even more than you did. It consumed him, every waking moment spent wanting to get your hands on him again, wanting to taste even the smallest morsel of the sweetness between your legs, wanting to bury himself in the deepest part of you until your shaking body squeezed around him, drawing him closer and closer to the greatest pleasure he’d ever felt.

And yet he still was afraid to make the wrong move, to touch you when you didn’t want to be touched or to even hurt you if he moved too wildly, as he was prone to do. As much as he wanted to admit otherwise, he was waiting on your beck and call, not being too forward until he knew what to do, and he still knew very little.

It seemed you were at an intimate impasse, a sexual stalemate. You were waiting for Daryl to make the next move, and yet he was too afraid of making the wrong move. Perhaps you’d have to light a fire under his ass—let him know that you belonged to him now, and that he could have you any time, any day. At this rate, you weren’t sure you could go much longer without him knowing that.

Rosita’s weight plopping down beside you stirred you from your thoughts, tearing your eyes from the simple bracelet he’d given you the other day as you prepared to focus on something other than Daryl.

“When did you come in?” you asked, though you knew you were close enough to Rosita to figure she’d let herself in without knocking.

She leaned her elbow on the back of the couch to prop up her tilted head, then let out a huff of air as her other hand rubbed her forehead in exhaustion. “Baby’s got me running on three hours of sleep,” she said. “Left her with Eugene… Needed words of encouragement.”

You smiled in bittersweet understanding, patting her knee as you straightened up to look at her. “You’re doing great,” you said. “Best mom I know. Coco’s a lucky little baby.”

“She’s restless too,” she added. “Don’t ever have a baby if you value your sleep schedule, that’s all I’m saying.”

You scoffed and shook your head with a smile of amusement. “Mm, as if that could even happen.”

Rosita raised an eyebrow as her head perked up from the cradle of her hand. “What about that afternoon delight last week?” You felt her finger teasingly poke your side. “You’re sexually active now.”

“Yeah, well I’m starting to wonder if he really meant what he said.”

Her smile wilted. “What, when he said ‘I love you’? He must’ve meant it, (Y/N). I mean, he made you that bracelet.”

You shrugged as you fiddled with the colorful twine on your opposite wrist. “That doesn’t mean he loves me. If he really loved me he’d spend more alone time with me. I don’t know, maybe I’m too needy. Maybe he needs space…” You looked seriously at Rosita, with slight panic in your eyes. “Do you think I was too forward? Do you think I scared him off? I mean, maybe I was too… dominant. I don’t know, I just…”

She shook her head and sighed. “You did nothing wrong. Besides, he hasn’t been completely avoiding you. He’s just busy, (Y/N). You happened to pick one of the most important guys in Alexandria, so of course he’s going to have a lot of stuff to do… besides you.”

“I know, I know… But what if he didn’t like the sex? Maybe it was too much. What if I overwhelmed him?”

You had spared Rosita the gory details of the sex, but she knew the jist of it, how you had been the more dominant one, and how Daryl was… inexperienced. You also spared Daryl the embarrassment of telling anyone he was a virgin, since he seemed quite ashamed of that fact himself.

“You’re overthinking,” replied Rosita. “He’s probably just being Daryl.”

Being Daryl, you thought. Shy, quiet, aloof, insecure…

“He’ll come around,” she continued. “Let him come to you. Make him show you how much he wants you.”

That appealed to you, the idea of Daryl practically crawling on his knees in desperation for you and your body, upon which you did feel his eyes roaming on more than one occasion since last week.

So you waited a while, a few more days, until Daryl would show up at your door on his own volition. You still found time to tease him like you’d always done, bending over in his direction with a particularly low-cut blouse on, or making prolonged eye contact as you trailed your fingers down his arm. If you hadn't been in public, he might’ve done something.

He might’ve lost all control and lowered to his knees until his face met the junction of your thighs, where an intoxicating warmth was heating his cheeks and drawing him closer to the proverbial pot of dripping golden honey beneath your dress.

He might’ve buried himself between those thighs, allowing all of his senses to be completely engulfed by that center of gravity he’d encountered once before. He could practically feel your fingers lacing firmly through his hair, pulling him closer despite no space existing between his mouth and the fabric draped over your body.

In desperation, he might’ve lapped at nothing, instead tasting that fabric and wettening it with his saliva as he silently begged to lift your dress, himself still a little shy to do such a thing. The longer he waited for your permission, which you purposefully held back, the more fervent he became, nearly sending you stumbling backwards as his nose and mouth buried themselves further between your clothed thighs.

That was all in his head, though, as he lacked the courage to do it.

Until one day, in the late afternoon of a particularly warm spring day, he worked up the courage to climb those steps up to your front door, planning on letting you know that he hadn’t stopped thinking about that day last week, that it consumed every inch of his body and soul. That, and in his hands was a basket of freshly picked peaches. He knew you usually picked them yourself, but he figured the least he could do was do the labor for you.

Surely he could find the courage to kiss you as soon as you opened that door, to be spontaneous and passionate just like you, but when the door did open, he froze, finding himself almost as clueless as he was before.

“Hi, Daryl,” spoke Rosita, holding baby Coco on her hip. All his confidence began to wither away, his plans foiled and his words stuck in his throat. “I was just heading out. I’ll get (Y/N). Come on in.”

She and the cooing baby led him to the kitchen, where he awkwardly sat at the counter as Rosita climbed up the stairs to find you folding your laundry on the surface of your bed. “Who is it?” you asked.

Rosita’s lips quirked in a crooked, slightly devilish smile. “Your gentleman caller.”

You dropped the sock you had been turning inside out. “Daryl?” you gasped in surprise. “He’s here?”

“I told you he’d be back,” she said in a sing-song voice, bouncing Coco with the rhythm of her words. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ve gotta put this one to bed anyway.”

Your eyes darted around for a moment, a million thoughts running through your head as your heart began to race at the idea of spending time alone with Daryl again. A part of you might’ve been slightly annoyed that he’d been avoiding that alone time with you, but maybe he’d just have to prove how sorry he was to you.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“Jesus, you’re already dicknotized.”

With a quick kiss to Coco’s forehead, you sent Rosita back downstairs before you, and as she passed Daryl on her way to the door, she swore she saw a condom poking out of his back pocket, but maybe it was just her imagination.

Soon, you were practically skipping down the stairs, though you made a point to calm yourself before Daryl saw you, in the hopes that you’d appear much more seductive, though it didn’t take much effort, since Daryl was immediately seduced, as he always was.

“Hi, handyman,” you said, voice more husky and lower than usual.

He cleared his throat and quickly stood to his feet, despite not being entirely sure why he did so. Perhaps to give you a standing ovation of sorts, to recognize how perfect you were to him. Surely any unworthy mortal such as himself would need to pay his respect and admiration to a goddess like you.

He must’ve stood too fast, as the headrush that surged through him was enough to send him stepping backwards to catch himself. You’d only ever seen him this nervous last week, which surely must’ve been a good sign.

You couldn’t help but smile at his shakiness, and in an attempt to rid himself of embarrassment, he uttered a halfhearted chuckle under his breath, rubbing his clammy hands up and down his jeans as he stepped forward.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat immediately after. “I, uh… hope I ain’t interruptin’ anything.”

You stepped closer, too, until you were only a foot or so away. Close enough for him to smell that intoxicating perfume, and to feel the heat of your body radiating off his skin.

His eyes roamed unavoidably to your lips, the natural gloss catching the light of the dining room chandelier. As if you knew he was focused on them, you parted your lips to breathe a husky sigh, as your half-lidded eyes wandered to the small patch of chest hairs blooming at the collar of his shirt.

“No, no. You could never interrupt anything. I always have time for you.” You ventured to step closer, taking one hand in yours to raise it to your mouth, eyes glued to his as your lips just grazed the back of his hand. Anything more than that was too much now—if he wanted you, he’d have to either take you himself, or beg for you. “Do you need something, baby?”

He swallowed hard, trying to lubricate his dry throat enough to produce some kind of words that wouldn’t be too gravelly to understand. In the tone of your voice, and in the way you brushed your lips back and forth on his hand, you were sure you were being obvious, but when he spoke, you knew you’d have to try even harder.

“Just wanted to see you,” he said. “Wanted to, uh… I missed you.”

You tilted your head and smiled sweetly. As much as you wanted him, you had to admit that just his innocent sweetness was a gift in and of itself. “I missed you, too. It feels like we haven’t been alone since…” You trailed off with a laugh. “Well, you know.”

He licked his lips and averted his gaze to his feet, in slight shame of his inability to make more time for you. “M’sorry,” he said. “Just been busy, s’all. Plus I… ain’t really used to this whole thing.”

“What whole thing?”

“Ya know… Havin’ my own woman.”

You laughed at his turn of phrase. “You mean, you’re not used to being in a relationship?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled as he chewed his lip. “That’s what it is, right?”

“Of course,” you replied. “I mean, if that’s what you want it to be. I know it’s what I want it to be.” You stepped closer again, raising your hand to brush his hair back from his eyes. “Your eyes are so pretty.”

He scoffed, and as your hand trailed down his cheek to his jaw, you swore you felt him begin to relax. He must’ve been getting more used to your touch.

“They’re just blue,” he said. “Nothin’ special.”

“They’re a beautiful shade of blue. You should have more confidence in yourself, Daryl. Especially with me. You know I’m yours.”

He cleared his throat and hoped the blush upon his cheeks wasn’t terribly noticeable. “I know. Just… kinda hard to believe.”

“Well, believe it.” You leaned forward to nuzzle your nose against his, tickling him slightly as he let out a quiet, nervous chuckle. “And you’re mine, right?”

He cleared his throat and nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m yours… Buttercup.”

He cringed internally, not knowing exactly where that sudden burst of confidence came from, but it was quickly matched by your own as your lips slotted firmly between his, your hands clasping tight around the back of his neck. “Daryl,” you sighed against his lips. “You taste so good, baby.”

Your lips moved languidly to his cheek, each kiss more tongue-heavy than the last.

His hands grasped firmly at your lower back, pulling you closer despite his fear of getting too carried away in his desperation. Even so, he felt a burning in the pit of his stomach, an unavoidable hunger rising up to his throat as his tongue tickled your cheek.

“Mmm,” you laughed, burrowing your nose into his soft, silky hair. His lips migrated to your neck, suckling on the skin as your hand guided his to your bottom, where he squeezed on his own volition. “You’re the only man who can touch me like that.”

As your eyes opened in a blurry haze, your eyes were attracted to the basket of bright, crisp peaches on the kitchen counter. “Daryl!”

He panicked as his hands loosened their grip and he pulled back to meet your wide eyes. “What’s wrong? I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No,” you laughed. “You brought me peaches?”

He turned to follow your gaze, fixated on the delicious fruit. “Oh, uh… Yeah, I know how much you love to make that peach pie.” He stepped back, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck with a sweaty palm. He hoped he hadn’t overstepped a boundary, as if offering you a basket of peaches was anymore intimate than what he’d already done. “Thought I’d pick you some. Got the best ones off the tree.”

Your wide grin chased away any worries he might’ve had. “You’re too sweet. Thank you.”

You leaned forward to take a peach in your hand, inspecting it as you bit your lip in admiration of the succulent fruit, its round curves and soft, fuzzy coat so strangely enchanting.

And then an idea came to you.

“Wanna try one?” you asked. “Make sure they’re nice and ripe?”

Unaware of your intentions, he innocently nodded, his lips upturning into a sweet smile. “Sure.”

Washing the skin of the peach, you eyed him from across the kitchen, your hands purposefully caressing the fruit much more sensually than you usually would.

From his viewpoint, it was difficult not to eye the low cut collar of your sundress, and with a more intent gaze as you looked away, he spotted your naked breasts beating against the inside of the lightweight fabric as you scrubbed the dirt from the surface of the peach.

Jesus Christ, he thought to himself. Woman’s got no damn bra on.

“You’ve got an eye for peaches,” your voice interrupted his increasingly lusty thoughts. “Is it because you’re from Georgia?”

When he didn’t answer, you turned to meet his entranced gaze, which was focused on your chest. “Daryl?”

“Uh, yeah. Georgia. Peaches. Real nice peaches.” Fuckin’ Christ.

You gracefully side-stepped around the counter with a bowl now filled with rinsed peaches, as well as a knife to cut them. He tried not to watch too closely, not to pay too much attention to the outline of your curves underneath your dress, but it was hard not to.

“I’ll cut out the pit,” you said, picking up the knife in one hand and a peach in the other. “Keep them for planting more trees.”

With his usual overbearing concern for you, he watched carefully as you began to slice the fruit by its girth, and when the blade of the knife got too close to almost cutting your thumb, he couldn’t stand by and watch any longer.

“Nah, let me,” he said, grabbing the fruit and the knife. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You scoffed with a smile, slightly annoyed by his caring nature, but mostly quite enchanted by it. He was always like that, more so the longer you knew him. If you didn’t need to lift a finger, he wouldn’t let you, and certainly not if that finger posed a risk of getting cut.

“Well, I’ve cut plenty of peaches myself, Daryl.”

“I’m here now,” he said, keeping his eyes glued to the sticky juice beginning to seep around the silver blade penetrating the soft fuzzy surface. “I’ll take care of you.”

If he hadn’t been so absorbed in his work, he might’ve been more bashful about his words, but you certainly weren’t going to let them go unnoticed.

“You’re adorable.”

“Am I?”

“Mhm… Adorable and sweet.”

He popped the pit out of the now halved peach with a huff. “Gotta start gettin’ used to all this flattery.”

“Oh, I’ve been flattering you since the day I met you,” you laughed. “You were just too innocent to notice it.”

He looked up as he handed you your half. “Innocent?” he asked.

“Well,” you sighed, raising your peach to your lips, “you’re not that innocent.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed with a crooked smile, the kind of smile that proved your point quite well. There was innocence in his eyes, but that smile was almost mischievous, like it knew exactly what you meant all on its own. “Eat your peach.”

You almost took a bite, but when he raised the fuzzy fruit to his lips, you felt a tingle surge through you, a reminder of the feeling of his lips kissing a part of you not too dissimilar from the shape of that fruit, with its delicate flesh and its deep, concave center. To see that tongue of his swirl circles as it gathered the succulent juice from the perfect ripe peach might’ve been just the most beautiful sight.

“Wait,” you said, scooting forward on your barstool until your knees touched his. “Why don’t you eat that peach like it’s me?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion at the request, and though he wondered what you meant, one look at the cross section of that peach in the palm of his hand was enough to confirm it.

You leaned forward once again, cradling his hand in yours as you lifted the fruit to his lips. “Like it’s my pussy,” you whispered. “Please?”

The slight beg in your voice awakened something within him, an urge to please you and satiate your needs as best he could.

His tongue slotted gently into the pit, lapping up the juice as his fingers squeezed the fruit from the outside, creating a sinful sound. “Like this?”

“Mhm.”

Discarding your peach, you reached your hand down between your thighs, touching yourself just above your dress. “Good boy,” you said. “I like when you listen to me. Keep going.”

His eyes didn’t leave yours, not that they could. Your stare was much too intense, and much too seductive, to ignore. In truth, this was torture. He’d been thinking about licking you ever since he’d done it a week before, and one taste was enough to render him addicted for life. It was the idea of pleasing you, of hearing your moans and sighs and whimpers of sexual relief as his tongue massaged your most intimate, sensitive part. He would never want to deny you, or himself, of that pleasure. Now, licking and sucking desperately at the flesh of a peach was almost humiliating, as though you knew exactly what he wanted, and yet you withheld it from him by offering a meager substitute. He supposed he brought this upon himself, though, with his shyness preventing him from being alone with you since last week. Maybe this was part of your plan.

With sticky droplets of peach juice dripping down his chin, he finally sunk his teeth into it, allowing more flavor to surround his wiggling tongue. The movements seemed to match those of your fingers, swirling in tight circles over the sensitive nerves tucked under your dress and panties.

“It ain’t like the real thing,” he said. “Let me… I wanna…”

Your hand tore away from your body as you leaned forward to catch his lips, still coated in a thick layer of sweet, peachy goodness. “What do you want, sweetheart?” you asked into his mouth. “Big boys use their words.”

He swallowed hard as he watched you take a bite of his peach, deliberately letting your lips sink around the juicy fruit in the most sinful way. “I wanna lick your pussy,” he said, almost ashamed of his words, but he couldn’t help it—if you asked him to speak, he had to speak. The hold you had over him was insurmountable. “I wanna taste you… Ain’t nothin’ even close to the taste of you.”

You smiled against his cheek, where you pressed slow, languid kisses. The half-eaten peach had dropped from Daryl’s hand in distraction, though neither of you noticed. “Oh,” you laughed. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

The frustrating thing about Daryl was that you knew he could overpower you—he was physically very strong and bulky, with lean, muscular arms that could squeeze your abdomen tighter than a corset. All that, and he was still so delicate with you, so weary of hurting you with his strength and passion that even frightened himself the more he became aware of how much he loved you. He’d never seen himself as a sexual person before, but you’d opened up a whole new part of him that he was both excited and fearful to explore.

When he exerted enough strength to pin you against the counter, lifting you up by your waist as his lips devoured yours, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure, though he quickly hesitated once again, removing his lips.

“Sorry,” he said, gently rubbing your hips up and down. “Did I hurt you?”

You scoffed, reaching down to strip yourself of your panties. “Get down there,” you said. “Eat me like that peach.”

From his lips erupted a low growl as he hoisted your ankles to his broad shoulders, moving with just a hint of confidence once again as he lowered his head beneath your skirt.

He felt his jeans begin to swell with the pressure from his cock rising, hardening with each quick, desperate lick up and down your slit. His tongue flattened wide, while he groaned in pleasure at the familiar taste he hadn’t been able to get out of his head. He was addicted to it, lapping at your natural juice like it was ice cold water, and he’d been wandering through a desert.

His tongue was only slightly more calculated than last time, focusing more on the little bundle of nerves above your entrance, knowing it was the goldmine.

When he swirled his tongue just right, causing you to clench your thighs around his head, he groaned again, not in annoyance at the feeling of your legs interlocking, but bliss.

“Aw, fuck,” he groaned, voice muffled against you.

You sighed and smiled as you threw your head back, pleasure overtaking you. “You like when I squeeze you with my thighs?”

“Yes…”

“Yes what?” you asked more sternly now, letting up on your entrapment of his head.

He paused for a moment, though his tongue quickly licked at you again in short, frustrated bursts. Still, he missed the feeling of you all around him. “Yes, (Y/N).”

Your hands laced delicately between soft, chocolate colored strands of his lengthy hair. “That’s a good boy,” you cooed, squeezing your thighs tighter than before. With a low whimper, he moved more vigorously on your clit, pursing his lips and licking it as he sucked. “You said you’d take care of me… Take good care of me, Daryl… I want you to take care of me.”

I will, he responded in his head, his mouth much too focused on his task to answer out loud. Take real good care of ya, buttercup.

His hands wrapped tightly around the outside of your thighs, pulling them even closer around his head until he was sure he could barely hear anything with your thighs covering his ears.

“Oh!” you cried out, his tongue flicking wild strokes up and down your most sensitive area. Each movement made you flinch and writhe and whimper from the sensation of little shockwaves coursing through you, building up gradually and becoming stronger and stronger.

You would’ve thought from the way he was moaning and whimpering, too, that you were pleasuring him, but just the act of tasting you was enough for his cock to expand his pants as far as they could go, his engorged tip achingly rubbing against the inside of his scratchy jeans.

You were sure you’d never heard of a man being as turned on during cunnilingus as him. It pleased you, how passionate he was, how he’d probably beg to taste you if he got desperate enough. Something about the way he moved his tongue, lapping you up like you were his first meal after a long fast… That alone could get you off.

As he kept going, never coming up for air and drowning himself in the accumulation of your arousal, you feared he’d pass out from lack of air. “Baby,” you huffed, tugging gently on his hair as you tried to catch your breath. “You can… take a break… if you want to.”

He only grunted in response, the animalistic hunger in that sound sending another vibration through you all on its own. He felt himself nearing his peak, with the adrenaline of fear and excitement and arousal and basic, primal need coursing through him, causing his veins to bulge underneath his suntanned skin.

In an effort to calm himself, he lowered his hand to paw at his bulge, where his cock began to pulse and throb with each angelic sigh from your open mouth. His hand only worsened the situation, the pressure unintentionally driving him to the brink of orgasm.

“Shit,” he groaned, head still tucked between your shaky thighs, with your own orgasm not far.

At this point, you couldn’t even notice his ragged breathing or his body convulsing with each spurt erupting from the tip of his cock to coat the inside of his underwear.

His tongue never ceased its mission, though. He never stopped lapping at the wetness of your folds. When your hands tugged at his hair the hardest they had yet, and your whimpers and moans grew louder, he knew it wouldn’t be much longer until—

“Daryl!” you cried out. “I’m… Oh, you’re going to make me come…”

And you did, waves of intense orgasmic pulses causing you to buck your hips, your clit hitting the tip of his nose and intensifying the feeling even more. “Yes!” you repeated in a hazy state of bliss. “Daryl…”

Your shaking legs dangled loosely on his shoulders, your thighs losing their grip on the sides of his head as they became numb once your orgasm began to fade. He could no longer feel your body twitching, so he raised his head to look you in the eyes, blinking gently as a wide grin split your face.

His expression turned from hungry to shy, and slightly nervous. He looked like a schoolboy who’d just been caught doing something naughty in the boys’ bathroom. It wasn’t too far off—he knew he’d lost control of himself, and he was embarrassed, terrified you’d be disappointed in his lack of ability to keep himself from coming too soon.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you said with a slight giggle to your voice, still trembling a little from that intense feeling. “You did so good.” Your hands returned to his hair, massaging his scalp as your fingers attempted to restore the messy strands you had misplaced to their natural pattern.

With your hands lowering to his cheeks, you pulled him forward until his lips met yours and his body aligned perfectly just above you. The sharp hardness of the kitchen counter below you wasn’t particularly forgiving on your back, but the thrill of it made it worthwhile.

You felt his arm squirm between your bodies, his hand reaching to his crotch to adjust himself again. The discomfort he felt from the accident in his pants was hard to conceal.

Still, you chalked it up to nerves, and you tried to hold him in place above you, but his arms were too strong to be kept still by you. “Daryl,” you huffed. “What are you doing?”

Clearing his throat, he lifted himself from you to step back from the counter, turning around quickly. “Nothin’,” he said. “Just gimme a minute.”

You heard the sound of his jeans unzipping, and the soft rustling of fabric as he tried to clean himself up. Now concerned, you lifted yourself from the counter and lowered your dress to wrap your arms around his waist and slot your forehead between his shoulder blades. He stiffened a bit, then relaxed, remembering he was in safe hands. Quite literally. There wasn’t any other touch he’d feel comfortable with but yours, even when you were just friends. Your touch was soft, dependable, like a promise. Not an empty promise, a promise with intention and devotion.

“Did you—”

“Nah,” he said, even if you hadn’t quite finished your sentence.

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask,” you laughed.

“I didn’t come.”

You scoffed and raised your head to peek over his shoulder. “Well, now I’m curious… It’s okay if you did. Actually, it’s cute.”

“Pfft.”

“Turn around.”

There wasn’t an order you could give that he wouldn’t follow, especially in this state. After a few moments of obligatory silence, he slowly turned to reveal his unzipped and unbuttoned jeans split open, where his black underwear showed a fresh whitish stain.

You tilted your head and smiled. There was something so cute, and sexy, of course, about his inability to control himself, his struggle to keep his arousal at bay, and how much just pleasuring you with his mouth turned him on. How could he come without even being touched? You knew he was sensitive, but this was another level… It was perfect. He was perfect.

“Sorry,” he spoke under his breath, lowering his head as his eyes fluttered to occasionally look back up to you, as if checking to see your disapproval. “Jus’ still gettin’ used to it… and you’re so damn beautiful, especially when…” He trailed off, shaking his head with a self-derisive scoff.

Your shoulders shifted playfully, biting your lip as you rested your hands on his shoulders to gently massage them. They were tense, as usual, with tight knots and hard, lean muscles aching for some comfort. In the back of your mind, you wanted to remove that raggedy black button up shirt and trail kisses along those broad, workworn shoulders, upon which the world seemed to rest. Any man who spent as much time as he did caring for and protecting his community would’ve needed it, but for a man who seems to be so touch-starved, he needed it extra.

“When what?” you asked.

He swallowed, thinking back to the sultry moans that had poured from your watering lips as he pleased you. It was more like the sound of a goddess calling upon her most loyal servant to do her bidding, and if he could take the place of that servant, he’d do it gladly. Everyday of his life.

“When you make those little noises,” he said with a shrug, trying to speak as casually as he could. Siddiq had given him the unsolicited advice to “play it cool,” and he supposed now was the time to put that phrase into action, though he was anything but cool. “Can’t control myself.”

You sighed, trailing your fingers along his collarbone until they found the top button of his shirt, which you slowly undid before gracefully cascading to the next, and the next…

“Do you think you have anymore left in you?” you asked. Now your hunger became insatiable, with your eyes constantly returning to the bulge within his underwear, still wet and visibly a little sticky. “I mean, if you’re not too busy… I know you’re a very important man.”

Within moments, his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the sheen of sweat on his bare chest. Your fingers tickled the soft, slightly curly hairs of his happy trail, leading to his underwear.

He let out a deep sigh as he felt your hand gently squeeze his bulge, not enough to cause pain, but enough to make him flinch.

“I ain’t…” he said shakily, trailing off as he lost his train of thought. How was he to focus on forming words when your hand was cradling his cock, massaging it tenderly over the soft fabric of his soiled underwear. “Ain’t that important.”

You pouted teasingly, with glimmering doe eyes that betrayed your arousal. “You’re important to me. I love you, Daryl.”

His body relaxed as he registered those three lovely words. For so long he’d wondered what it was like to be loved by someone, and for the first time, he didn’t feel like there was a missing piece in his life, an empty space where that emotion should be. You’d always been special to him, and now that he could allow himself to understand his feelings completely, clarity washed over him like crisp spring rain. In its wake was every little flake of shiny gold stars he swore he saw in your eyes.

Every movement of your fingers as you tugged his jeans and underwear from his waist made him wobble and cling to your shoulders for balance, eliciting a laugh from you. He hadn’t even noticed he failed to respond. “I love ya, too,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe, won’t let anythin’ bad happen to you. I’ll take care of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at his delirious rambling, his agape lips and increasingly ragged breaths proving to be rather adorable.

He only noticed he was now fully naked when he heard the sound of his shirt button hitting the tile floor. “Shit, you don’t waste time,” he laughed nervously, and to prove his point, your lips crashed impatiently, tongue circling wildly in his mouth as he tried to keep up.

“Take care of me,” you panted breathlessly against his lips, between impatient tongues twining around each other like vines. “Upstairs.”

His feet stepped on yours a few times as he tried to maneuver both your bodies up the staircase, hands moving up and down in frantic movements in attempts to rid you of your clothes. Soon you were naked at the top of the stairs, with a few superficial fingernail scratches from where Daryl’s quick, impatient hands had marred your skin.

“Shit,” he huffed against your neck, noticing a red mark from when he lifted your dress above your head. “Sorry... Did that hurt?”

You shook your head as you pulled him up the last steps. With hands cupping both cheeks, you pulled him into your room as you kissed him, until the back of your knees hit the bed, and he fell over you, both of you fully naked against each other. Everything had moved so fast, you didn’t even notice how many marks he left on you. It wasn’t painful, though. In fact, you’d hoped they’d last a while, as a reminder of what you were about to do.

“You’d never hurt me,” you said. You were glued to his gaze, somehow soft and sweet, and hard and wild at the same time. “I feel it in your kiss. I know you love me.”

He lowered his head to nudge his nose against yours, his silky hair falling down to curtain both of your faces. “I know ya love me, too… Dunno how I got so lucky.”

You furrowed your brow and shook your head. “Stop.”

Your lips prevented him from speaking again, and your legs spreading underneath him to wrap around his waist drew his body closer. His hardening cock ached for attention, and as you writhed up and down underneath him, it fit perfectly between your folds, still wet from his saliva and the juice of your arousal.

As if by instinct, he thrusted himself against you, his head buried sheepishly in the crook of your neck, mouth suckled to your skin where he’d no doubt leave another mark of his affection. For the first time, he was on top of you, a new position which gave him control, to some extent. He froze for a moment as he contemplated his next move. How was he to know what to do in this situation? He’d only had sex with you once, and now he was here.

“Daryl,” you muttered against his hair. “Just fuck me… Take care of me.” Your hand reached between your bodies to feel his cock. “Put this cock inside me.”

“Shit!” he suddenly exclaimed.

Your eyes widened in shock as he lifted himself up. “What’s wrong?”

“Condom,” he said shortly, and the last thing you saw was his tight, pale little ass scurrying out the door to pick up his discarded jeans from the kitchen floor downstairs, where the condom he’d tried to carry so discreetly was held in his back pocket.

You threw your head back and laughed, hearing Daryl’s cursing under his breath and his loud, hurried footsteps echoing through the house. He came back with the condom halfway on his cock, his hand still adjusting it until it fit just right.

“Got it.”

“Mm, baby,” you laughed, laying back down to sprawl out your arms and legs, your eyes hazy and your smile soft and warm. You writhed on the bed playfully, cupping your breasts with your hands and squeezing gently to tease his hungry, begging eyes. A part of him seemed to want to pounce on you, but another wanted to ask you permission. “Come over here and give me everything you’ve got, handyman.”

You watched in delight at the blush forming on his cheeks as he slowly but surely made his way over to you, kneeling on the edge of the bed to lower himself just above your body, where he positioned his cock to your entrance. Your hands gravitated to his shoulders, rubbing them reassuringly.

His chest heaved with deep nervous breath after deep nervous breath. You kept your eyes locked to his cock, watching it slowly spread you open. In the shallow end, it came in at a perfect angle, tickling a special spot to make you shiver in delight. “Mmm,” you hummed. “Good boy.”

He scoffed under his breath. “Shut up.”

He inched deeper inside of you, wasting no time in going as deep as he could. There was a desperation to his movements, a deep, unavoidable need, and yet a hesitation, always lingering close behind. “This okay?” he asked under his breath. “This feel good?”

You leaned forward to tug on his strong, broad shoulders, the defined muscles flexing under his sweaty skin. His chest pressed to yours, your nipples aligning with his to tickle each other delicately. “So good,” you sighed into his lips. “I love you.”

His hips began to move on their own accord, slowly but surely moving to and fro to the rhythm of your heartbeat, the warmth between your bodies getting stronger and stronger. “I love you,” he replied.

With your arms tangled tightly around his back, he thrusted harder, in shorter, sloppier bursts. “Ah, fuck…” he groaned against your neck. You squeezed around his cock, the walls of that soft, warm passageway massaging him with each movement he made. It was suffocating in the most beautiful way, being completely overwhelmed and consumed by you and your body. Even underneath him, you still commanded him, your body forcing him to move with yours and guiding him to his pleasure, which only spurred on your pleasure.

Your heels burrowing into the dimples of his lower back, you demanded he move more. In his position, the angle of his tip would just perfectly hit you in a sensational spot. “Daryl…” you panted. “Yes, right there, baby. You feel so good.”

He only gasped for air and groaned hoarsely under his breath in response, until his words returned to him. “I can’t… stop. Shit, (Y/N)... I’m gonna come.”

You huffed and loosened your legs’ grip around him, then pressed your hands to his chest to push him away until he pulled out of you. Much to his confusion, his body turned to obedient jelly as you maneuvered him until he lay pathetically panting and wiggling out of frustration and need to be inside you again. Not even his hand desperately tugging at his cock, wetted and dripping with your natural lubricant, could ease the pain of pleasure.

“(Y/N)...” he practically whimpered under his breath. It was still as gruff and deep as his normal voice, but coated with a more high pitched, almost whiney layer. You watched one hand grip tightly around his aching testicles, the other massaging the reddened, leaking tip of his cock. He was right on the edge, and yet the feeling of his hands alone couldn’t release him. “Need ya… Please. I’m beggin’ for ya.”

Even his dark, pleading eyes begged for you. As much as you liked him in this state, on the edge of orgasm and needing only you to get him there, you also would love to see him come again, sooner rather than later.

With your legs wide, you straddled his waist to meet his tip to your entrance, where your hand guided his cock, but not without thumbing at the tip teasingly, and rubbing it on your clit to please yourself with it. “Mm,” you hummed. He could only groan in response, leaning his head back as you could’ve sworn his eyes rolled back slightly. His hands grasped at your waist, trying to get himself inside of you. “You’re so cute when you’re horny,” you laughed. You let his tip enter you for a moment only to lift yourself up slightly until it slipped out, causing him to whine under his breath. “Do you like it when I tease you?”

He scoffed and looked up at you with hazy, half-closed eyes. “Woman… This is torture.”

You rolled your eyes at his hyperbole, as surely this was nothing compared to what some other, kinkier people liked to do in the bedroom. But, you supposed, you did like to torture him, if this was what he considered torture.

“But do you like it?” you laughed, stroking his chest up and down as you lowered yourself once again onto his cock—terribly slowly, of course.

He hissed as he watched your body envelop him again, and felt the tingle returning to his shaft as you started to circle your hips and massage him with your squeezing walls.

“I… Fuck, I…” He threw his head back with a deep sigh and a delirious laugh trailing not far behind. “God, this is good… Ah, shit, how can ya feel this good, buttercup…”

You shrugged your shoulders as you moved faster, grinding in tighter, harder movements, with your hands planted firmly on his pecs, playfully twirling the slightly curly light brown hairs with your fingers. “Maybe my body was meant for yours.”

He reached up to pull you down. This time, he commanded you to kiss him, to slip your tongue in his mouth as he forced his into yours, with that sloppy, inexperienced kiss of his. With his hands tangling into your messy hair, he thrusted harder into you from below you, until his lips separated from yours to expel a loud, strained moan from the pit of his stomach. “Fuck!” he cried out.

His cock pumped his spend into the reservoir of the condom, and for a while there you were sure he wouldn’t ever stop, but he did, and the moans subsided as he caught his breath and held you close, his arms almost suffocatingly tight around your back.

For a while, you didn’t need words, just the feeling of your bodies interlaced in each other, him still inside you and making himself quite comfortable there, was enough. His chest made a wonderful pillow, despite how strong and hard it was. Somehow, it became soft for you. His body didn’t strain or flex with nerves. It simply mellowed, cushioning you. He was almost softer than the surface of your bed underneath him.

“I ain’t ever met a woman like you,” he said, finally breaking the silence. You lifted your head to look at him, wondering what he meant by that, and if it were a good thing.

“Like me?” you asked. “What am I like?”

“Real sweet,” he said, eyes closed and his voice slurring a little as sleep threatened to take him over. “But… real demanding.”

You scoffed. “Demanding?”

He opened his eyes as he became more alert. “Ain’t a bad thing. You know what you want, and you go after it, and ya get it.”

“Oh,” you laughed, snuggling back into his chest. “So I’m… strong willed?”

“Yeah,” he nodded sleepily. “I like it.”

“It’s not… scary?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Woman, you scare the hell outta me.”

“Oh,” you said, slightly worried now. “Sorry, baby.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he replied. “Told ya, I like it. I can handle ya.”

You always knew he could.

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