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alexthetrashyracoon · 25 days

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It was Simon’s turn for the coffee run this morning, he had Soaps’, Gaz’ and Prices’ order always in his mind so he didn’t even bother asking in the group chat of their Restaurant, instead he visits the usual little coffee shop only a few houses down from the restaurant he was working at.

“Morning! What can I get you!” You beamed at him, smiling sweetly with your blue apron on and a thick paper cup in hand, ready to serve Simon.

For a second he’s taken aback since normal Walther, the other guy working here knows his order and starts preparing them the moment Simon shows up in the window.

But you were new. Simon had never seen you before.

He was smitten with you and blinked a few times before he was back in reality. Some weird little voice has already planned your wedding with him.

“Hey. Uh…” Simon actually needs a moment to think.

What was his usual? For a moment he actually had forgotten what he and the team usually got from that place, to used to Walther already preparing his stuff.

Oh yeah, Simon remember and quickly tells you his order before putting the money down on the counter while you start preparing the drinks.

“So… you’re new here?” Simon asked casually, leaning against the counter end, waiting for his drinks.

“Yeah. Moved here a few weeks ago and started working here last week. And you?” You chirped happily.

“Working down by the restaurant, have been for years now. You should come over. Walther usually spends his break and gets a quick snack there.” Simon lies smoothly. Walther never stepped a foot into the restaurant.

But he wanted to see you more often. And if you would spend your break there where he could impress you with his cooking skills, wasn’t that worth the little lie?

You smile happy at his suggestion. “I’ll try my best, can’t promise anything.” You place the four cups in the holder and slide it into Simon’s hands. “Enjoy it!”

Simon was one hundred percent smitten with you when he left the coffee shop and walked back to the restaurant.

For the next two weeks Simon offered to take over the coffee run, ignoring the teasing coming from Gaz and Soap and the knowing glances from Price and Laswell but he uses every chance he got to see you.

Sadly one day you’re not there, Walther is back and Simon begrudgingly pays for the drinks and headed back to the restaurant.

“Hey, Si! There is someone at the back door for you!” Gaz called as he cut the vegetables for today’s food.

Simon immediately rushed outside to see you, dressed to impress with a small smile on your lips. “Walther told me you were looking for me… is it too early for that food you offered?”

“It’s never too early. Come on, I get you some delicious breakfast before the rush starts.” Simon grinned and pulled you inside, introducing you to the rest of the team.

After that day you spend every free minute of your break at the restaurant, Laswell had been nice enough to give you your own table after a while, so nobody would bother you, and Simon who hangs around while the rest works their asses off.

You and Simon share your first kiss after an especially stressful rush hour where he had managed to burn his hand and almost punched a guest in the face who ordered some seafood without the fish that came with it.

This is for the one person that consumes more Coffee Shop Au Stories than there are actual Coffee Shop Au Stories on the internet <3

#cod x gn!reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #cod mwii #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod x you #alex writes

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medium-rare-bimbo · 9 months

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Stepdad hopper!!

♡Masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

Contains: stepcest, dubcon, age gap, cheating

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ your mother hadnt been home as much as he wanted her to be meaning he had a lot of pent up needs that he needed to release :(( his hand wasnt soft enough to give him the feeling he wants, his rough callous hands would pump his cock for hours yet still be unsatisfied not to mention the playboy magazines didnt compare to a real womens body

♡ he would be lying if he said he didnt like you before the blue balls hit in fact he had these perverted thoughts as soon as his eyes laid upon you and your short dress and frilly socks, your doe eyes peering up at him as your mother introduced you both, the quiver of your lip as you watched him stalk closer, taking in his entire form

♡ hed be lying if he said he didnt think about you when he slept with your mother. Hed be lying if he said he just saw you as a daughter. Hed be lying if he said he didnt listen to you touch yourself. Hed be a bigger liar if he said he didnt watch you through the gap in your door.

♡ he comes home, angry, a bad day with bad people, he sees you all cute and pretty wearing his favourite sundress with the pink frilly apron he got you. He cant help himself, his instincts are practically howling at him to pick you up and force his cock inside you

♡ you turn to him, wide eyes a smile on your face as you grab the plate of cookies you had made earlier in the day, unsurprisingly your mother is nowhere to be found so it's just you and him in the house

♡ "hey kid where's your mom?"

"mom said she would be home late, something about work and paper, so I made dinner for us! I made cookies too but you can only have one right now, I dont want you to ruin your appetite"

♡ god how he loved you, always taking care of him like the good girl you are, making sure he eats, making sure he gets to work on time, checking up on him, asking how his day was. He adored you <3

"What are we having?"

♡ he pulls out a chair, ready to sit at the dinner table until you stop him

"We can sit in the living room! Mom isnt here so she cant tell us what to do OH! and we're having chicken alfredo"

♡ your eyes crease as you smile at him looking for approval as you peered up at your stepfather, he smiled back, a small smile but a smile nonetheless. He grabbed a cookie, muttering a thank you before popping it in his mouth as he walked to the living room

" you- um you can take a shower if youd like, um-the food wont be done until later a-and you can be all clean before you eat"

♡ you meek voice called out to him shaking with nerves as you talk to him. He huffed out a laugh and nodded his head, turning to head up stairs behind him, he heard your sigh in satisfaction as you watch the big man clamber up the stairs

♡ he groaned as the water hit his tensed muscles, the stress from his body leaving as the warm water came down on him. He was tempted to touched his cock but he feared that he wouldnt be able to control the noises that croaked out of him, despite all his fantasies he didnt want you to come into the bathroom thinking he was hurt only to see his cock out

♡ he dried himself before cursing realising he forgot his clothes. Hopper wrapped the towel around his waist before calling out to you

"Y/N! can you get me some clothes I forgot to grab them"

♡ he heard you shout in confirmation as he leaned back against the bathroom sink. Hearing your footsteps he trotted closer to the door prepared for your hand to shoot in with his clothes, instead the door opened and you stood there with his folded clothes. Your eyes widened and your mouth opened and closed trying to stutter out a response as your face heated up

"I- um- I- okay"

♡ His giant body loomed over yours as you stood frozen in place, staring at this god of a man. Droplets of water dripped down from his neck to his chest going lower and lower until they hit the towel hanging low on his hips.

"'Okay'? Can I have my clothes now?"

"YES- I mean um yes here you go"

♡ you didnt walk away as he grabbed them though, you watched as he took them from your hands, his finger brushing over yours. He stared you down like prey wating for you to do something. the moral part of him wanted you to leave but another part wanted you to act on the thoughts swirling around your head

"Are you going to leave?"

"Yeah I just um- yeah.."

♡ you made no attempt to move too busy gawking at him to hear him properly.

"If you keep standing there you'll have to see things you wont be able to unsee"

♡ that seemed to snap you out of whatever daze you were stuck in, your eyes flicking up to his face as your pupils seemed to turn into black holes. Your mouth trembled as you tried to blurt out anything that came to mind but the thoughts were unholy and youd ruin your mothers relationship if you spoke them

♡ he lurked closer to you letting you smell the musk of his newly fresh body, your thighs pressed together drawing his eyes toward them, Hopper stared down at you reaching his hand to your shoulder and placing it there.

"Are you going to be a good girl and leave?"

♡ You nodded yet still made no attempt to move, breathless and lust driven. He scoffed as you stood still, backing away and unfolding his clothes. Before you could process what was about to happen the towel dropped and in all its glory stood his semi hard cock, He pulled his boxers on and then his pants smiling to himself as your eyes continued to eat him.

♡ he while putting on his shirt he heard a quivering murmur leave your mouth to which he looked at you, staring at you as if asking you to repeat what you said

"I didn't say anything I just- i was thinking out loud"

"Thinking out loud? About what?"

"I um... i cant say"

♡ he huffed out a laugh rolling his eyes

"We're both adults here you can say what you want I wont take offense"

"I um.."

"Go on baby.. repeat what you said"

"I said.. I said my mothers a lucky women"

♡your voiced phased out by the end but he xouldnt care less he understood what you whispered perfectly. His skin prickled with excitement he had been waiting for this day, waiting for you to say something.

"Really? You wanna play house then?"

"I- what"

"You can be mommy and I'll be daddy how about that?"

"I'd love to but I dont think-"

♡ Hopper cuts you off with his lips, silencing anything that came out of your mouth after "id love to", his arms wrapping around your body holding you against him.

♡ he breaks the kiss, pushing you against the wall and once again slamming his lips into yours, stopping any noise from exiting, his moustache scratched your face as you clawed your way at him look for something to steady yourself with, teeth, tongues and spit collided with eachother as he claimed your mouth. Your legs wrapping around his waist as he encased your body

♡ his hands inched their way between your thighs grazing up and down the soft skin, slowly but surely working his way to the pantie covered mound. Hopper circled the area where your neglected clit lay, a single finger swirled around your most sensitive area.

♡ he let your hips jerk up for more stimulation (hed have to teach you some manners later) his bear like hands made their way to the middle of your panties feeling the wet spot your juices had left behind. He groaned into your mouth, an animal like snarl as he pried and groped at your most private part of your body

♡ his cock ground into your thigh the thickness of his manhood pressing against your skin and all though he was wearing pants the tight confines of the fabric didnt shy away from the intimidating size of it. Your head threw itself back as you released a pornagrpahic moan

♡ pulling your panties to the side he finally feels you skin to skin, he growls as his finger get sticky from your slick. his heavy finger eased itself into you stretching the tight hole to prepare for his cock. Despite your wetness dripping from you and soaking his fingers you were still so tight compared to him.

♡ his finger swirled inside you getting a feel of the spongy walls he so desperately thought about. When he slipped his another finger inside of you it felt like a scolding knife and although the pain burned the pleasure burnt brighter, you collapsed into him head laying on his chest and arms curled up in his shirt

♡ his hand left your hole inching it's way to his pants pulling them down to release the throbbing monster attached to his body. Hopper rubbed the swollen precum coated head along you cunt feeling you juices cling to him inviting him to enter you

♡ hopper forced himself into your tight hole, stretching you so much that you dont think any man will be able to fill you the same, you could feel every vein of his thick cock, the way it pulsed as it breached your hole, the way precum leaked out of the swollen head almost begging to enter your womb. You could feel all of him and at some points you felt as if you were going to rip in two from how big he was

"Thaaats it take it for daddy baby"

♡ his thrusts started out slow, tempered and gentle letting your now ruined cunt get used to the abuse he was putting it through, each vein caught on your walls making you fall limp against him however his rhythm picked up as time went on, he was a strong man but not strong enough to control himself around you

♡ your legs are pinned to your chest by his massive hands, your calves resting on his shoulders as he pounds his thick cock up into you, each thrust faulting as he breaches your cervix, youre jolting everytime his dick twitches, his hands forcing your body into itself pressing down on the bulge in your stomach.

♡ you dont know where to put your hands too overwhelmed with the appendage abusing your cunt, your slick and juices are dripping out of your newly damaged cunt and onto hoppers balls and down his thick hairy thighs.

♡ the house is filled with moans, groans, squeals and the sound of skin smacking together but neither of you care. His entire body is encapsulating yours, his frame hanging over you as he uses you for his own pleasure

"My good girl- my- my girl- fuck-"

"DA- daddy- plEAse please please please oh god- PLEASE gentle! Be gentle y'go-gonna break me cant- cant take this! S'too muuuuch"

♡ your sobs seem to fall on deaf ears as his instincts kick in. his mouth made subtle marks on your neck the feral part of him wanted to mark you until you couldnt breath, until your neck collapses in on itself and you have no other choice but to show everyone who you belong to but.. he knows it wouldn't go over well with your mother, he knows that you would never tell her, he knows that youd lie and he knows your mother will pry pry and pry until she figures out that her husband was fucking her daughter.

"That's it baby doing so well for me- T-" he thrusts into you body harshly causing you to pathetically squeal "TAking it so well"

♡ the noises coming from you were nothing but sounds, too cock drunk to form a sentence (not that he minded, he knew his little girl couldnt take him without getting dumb) whines and choked moans flowed out of you as he ruined you

♡ any steam from the shower didnt compare to the condensation on the mirrors your bodies were causing, You clung to eachother like velcro, feeding off of eachothers pleasure

♡ his thumb pressed against your clit swallowing it whole as he circled it like a shark. Your hips jolted as the stimulation became to much, you cried out as he picked up his pace clenching around him as you came on his cock, juices squirting onto his stomach and down his legs.

♡ hopper howled as he came. short yet harsh thrusts continued fell out of him like possessed man as he tried to get his cum as deep in you as possible.

♡ you lay in eachothers brace, still held against the wall as you tried to regain feeling in your body and mind. Praises poured out of his mouth in whispers as you fell in and out of that post orgasm feeling

♡ the jiggling of keys unfortunately broke you both out of your dream like state, hopper placed you down, pulling you underwear over your newly filled cunt before fully dressing himself. Your mother called out to the both of you but luckily she was too concerned on who left the oven on to come look for you. You steadied yourself on the wall as you walked like a newborn doe to greet your mother (hoppers orders)

♡ you stayed the rest if the night eating the, thankfully, edible chicken alfredo, occasionally your leg would jerk up as you felt hoppers thick cum leak out of you, your mother was none the wiser. he stared you down from across the table his foot playing with your ankle as you licked up the white sauce from the corners of you mouth.

#stranger things x reader #hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper smut #hopper smut #tw: stepcest

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navybrat817 · 7 months

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Easy as Pie

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, slight body worship, sensory deprivation (blindfolding), established relationship, light D/s vibes, mention of insecurities, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #2 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks for suggesting soft Andy, @whisperlullaby (body worship and sensory deprivation) and @drabblewithfrannybarnes (cockwarming). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Baking was a hobby you enjoyed and what better time to make pies than in the fall? When you asked Andy that morning if he'd prefer to have a pumpkin or apple pie for dessert that evening, he told you to choose for him. It was tough for you to decide. For pumpkin, the earthy pleasant flavor and creamy filling was a wonderful contrast to the flaky trust. For apple, the sweet and tart combination was both delicious and complex.

After a quick mental debate, you decided to bake Andy one of each so he could have the best of both worlds.

“I guess I'll just have to surprise you,” you told him before he left for work.

“Either way, I'll still want you for dessert.”

You were looking forward to that.

It would've been easy for you to buy crust or filling from the store, but you preferred to bake from scratch. As tedious as it was to get the consistency right, it was fulfilling to see your progress from beginning to end. You also told Andy that baking engaged your senses, from touch to taste to smell. It relaxed you as well as energized you. It was almost like the aroma pushed you to the finish line.

By the time you finished baking and cleaning up, it was late afternoon. You were proud of how the pies turned out. Plus the smile on Andy's face when he walked into the kitchen was worth double the work.

“Right on time,” you smiled, removing your apron as he glanced over where the pies sat on display. “How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home,” he said, loosening his tie before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. He brought his hands to your waist to hold you close, your body molding easily against his. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did, but it’s better now that you’re home,” you said in return.

“You had a good day baking a pumpkin and an apple pie for me?” He questioned as you nodded. “You spoil me, honey. Thank you.”

It was almost laughable that he considered you baking pies as spoiling him. He worked hard as a lawyer and was still a loving partner even with his often busy schedule. The least you could do was take care of him in some form, though you were certain you got the better end of the stick by being with Andy.

“Don’t thank me until you taste them. They may not be so great,” you teased.

The hands on your waist gripped you a little tighter. “Don’t do that.”

Self-deprecating was something Andy didn’t care for, especially when he knew how hard you worked. He understood that there would be days when you wouldn’t think the world of yourself, but he never wanted you to put yourself or your skills down. Even if you were joking and nothing more, he preferred that you saw the best in yourself. If you didn’t, he found ways to tell or show you how special you were.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” you said, shrinking slightly under his fierce gaze before you brushed your fingers along his thick beard. “I’m sure they taste great.”

“I’m sure they do, too,” he said, the blue of his eyes darkening as you moved your fingers to his hair. “Now say something nice about yourself.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you sifted through your thoughts, doing your best to find something positive to say that didn’t sound like you were bragging. “I put love into everything I do and that’s what counts.”

Andy’s piercing gaze softened as he gently held your chin, bringing a smile to both of your faces. “That’s how I know your pies will taste delicious. Because you made them with love.”

Praise was something you typically shied away from, but it was different with Andy. You welcomed the way warmth blossomed from your core and embraced how it spread from your head to your toes. “Double the love since you wouldn’t decide which one you wanted,” you said, his chest rising a bit as he chuckled. “Now you have to pick which one you want to try first. Unless you want to wait until after dinner.”

His brows pinched together slightly as he considered your question. He couldn’t go wrong with either. “I think I’d rather skip dinner and go right to dessert,” he answered, venturing over to the counter.

You watched as he carefully cut and plated a slice from both pies, your breath hitching when he licked some of the apple filling off his finger. He wasn't trying to seduce you at the moment, but it was working. “I don’t mind that at all,” you said as he went back to you, your fingers wrapping around his tie to have him close again. “And where would you like to have dessert?”

“In the living room,” he replied, running his free hand up and down your arm. “And there’s something else I want to try.”

“And what’s that?” You asked curiously.

“I want you to sit on my cock,” he began, bringing his hand back to your waist as you inhaled. It was always a good time for you when he wanted to play. “And I want to blindfold you.”

You whimpered, eager to give him what he wanted. Him robbing you of your sight as he stayed deep inside you would enhance everything else around you. Would his cock feel harder than usual? Would his hands and lips make you tremble more than normal?

“And you’re going to sit perfectly still while I have a slice of each pie,” he continued, his voice gruff as your breathing picked up.

“You want me to sit still while I keep you warm?” You questioned as he kissed your forehead with a smile.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he whispered, dragging his lips down to the tip of your nose. “You naked and blindfolded while my hands and mouth wander, letting me worship you as I eat those delicious pies you put so much care into.”

You made some sort of embarrassing sound at his words, wondering if was going to keep his suit on while you kept his cock warm. It was such a power move and one you loved exploring with him. While he was physically dominant over you, he was also verbally appreciative and tender. He loved you exactly the way you needed him to.

“Maybe I want to worship you, Andy,” you said. He deserved for you to love him the way he needed you to as well.

“Not tonight,” he said, a hint of dominance starting to seep in. There would be no arguing with him. “Not when I’m going to eat you out after I pump you full.”

Fuck.

“And what’ll happen if I don’t stay still?” You asked breathlessly, shivering when his mouth touched the corner of yours, his beard tickling your skin.

“You won’t come,” he replied, smirking when you took a step back and narrowed your eyes. “At least, not right away.”

“That's just mean, Mr. Barber,” you said with the smallest of pouts. He only edged you if there was a reason to do so. Though it wouldn't surprise you if he dragged it out for your self-deprecating comment earlier.

“I won't be mean tonight, but I will need you to be patient,” he said, nudging you toward the doorway. “Go to the living room and strip. I'll be there in a moment.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smirked as you said, “Yes, Sir.”

The smirk fell as you began to undress in front of the couch with shaky hands. Though the curtains were drawn, the light in the room was bright enough that you wouldn't have a chance to hide from Andy's stare. The thought had your heart racing faster because he cherished every part of you. Any imperfection to you was a thing of beauty to him.

“Fuck, you really do spoil me.”

The rich timbre of Andy's voice made your hands fall to your sides, the ache between your thighs stronger as he walked toward you. Your nipples hardened as his eyes swept over you, like he actually touched you. It was embarrassing how wet you were when he hadn't laid a finger on you yet. You didn’t even close your eyes until he moved close enough that his nose brushed against yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips almost touching yours before he set the pie down. “You ready to take a seat or should I check?”

“I think you should check,” you said, opening your eyes as you widened your stance.

His gaze moved lower as he cupped your pussy, his fingers brushing along your slit. You were patient, letting him tease you when what you wanted was for him to stab his fingers deep. Watching him bring his glistening fingers to his lips to taste you seconds later, it was a feat your knees didn’t buckle.

He didn’t beckon you any closer as he lowered his pants and underwear, his cock springing free. His gaze devoured you still as he took a seat, lightly stroking himself with a moan as you stood there waiting. Your mouth watered at the thought of dropping to your knees and swallowing him down. It was another way to keep him warm. But he was in charge and what he wanted was your pussy.

You wouldn’t deny him.

“Come here,” he urged, taking your hand to help you into his lap. He stroked your thigh with his other hand as you straddled him. “Take me in.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you stared into his eyes as you lined him up with your entrance. Prolonged eye contact was another thing Andy taught you to appreciate. Watching the swirl of emotions in his eyes as you began to sink down made your heart almost beat out of your chest. Both of you sighed as you continued to move down, not wanting to go too fast. It would hurt him if you got hurt.

“Good girl,” he praised as you took a moment to appreciate how good he felt. He removed the tie from around his neck when you tightened slightly around him. You almost forgot he planned to blindfold you. “You let me know if this is too much, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. You never had to use your safeword with Andy, but knew he’d stop right away if anything made you uncomfortable. Communication was everything to him. “I trust you.”

He paused, a raw expression on his face as he didn’t reply. You framed his cheeks, wordlessly telling him that he didn’t have to speak. Trust wasn’t something either of you gave easily. Something about him made it easy. Maybe it was how deep your love for him ran.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick as he covered your eyes with the tie. He didn’t make it too tight, but you couldn’t see a thing. “Now be good for me.”

You gasped when one of his hands closed over your breast, your back arching to get more of his touch. You had to bite your lip to hold in your moans when his mouth enclosed around your nipple, his tongue suckling the hardened bud. Your cunt throbbed as he switched, giving equal care to each side with his hand and mouth.

“So lucky to have you,” he rasped as he released your nipple, your breathing heavy as you heard the fork scrape along the plate. Your cunt throbbed when he moaned, the sound filthy and deep. “Have a taste.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose, but Andy didn’t bring the fork to your mouth. He kissed you instead, making you cling to him as you tasted the spices on his tongue. It was stronger than normal, the flavor exploding in your mouth. You practically saw colors dancing behind your eyelids, giving various shades to the sweet taste he shared with you.

“Sweet just like your cunt,” he growled, arousal pooling in your gut as he moved his lips down your neck. Your hands were free, but you felt completely at his mercy. Your pleasure was in his hands. “Doing so well. Just keep me warm while I eat.”

You were desperate for more, but you stayed as still as you could. He kept a hand on you as he took bites, between gently grabbing your ass or rubbing your thigh. His lips and tongue touched wherever they could reach, bringing little whimpers out of you. The one thing he didn’t touch was your clit, which was begging for attention.

How long would he tease you?

“Andy, please,” you whispered, almost shifting in his lap in the hopes to get some relief.

“Almost done, honey,” he assured you, drawing a soft cry from you when he suddenly thrust his hips up. “You need me to fuck you, is that it? Can’t wait until I’m finished eating the dessert you made just for me?”

His finger brushed your clit only once and it was almost enough to hurdle you over the edge. Each touch, every lavishness of his attention, was pure ecstasy. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

“Honey, this is making me feel good,” he said, rocking his hips again as your chest heaved. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his gaze was hungry. “Watching you like this, letting me touch you, praise you. Don’t you feel how fucking hard I am?”

“I do,” you exhaled. You felt every inch of him along your sensitive walls. “Feels good.”

He kissed your cheek, the scent of cinnamon filling your nostrils. “You feel good. So wet and tight and it’s all for me. So fucking lucky to come home to you. Love you so much, honey.”

The fabric of his tie felt damp and you realized it was your sudden tears causing that. Between his words and how sensitive your body felt, it was a lot in a good way. “I love you, too,” you whispered once you took a breath.

He dragged his mouth to your ear as he brought his finger back to your clit, rubbing gently as you both groaned. “You want me to feel even better? Show me how good I make you feel. Drench me and I’ll fuck you with my cock and tongue.”

“Please, please, please,” you begged, gripping his arms in an almost bruising hold, determined to give him what he demanded.

“Come.”

That was your undoing, the tide washing you away as you drenched him the way he demanded. He quieted your cries with his mouth, swallowing them down for himself. You whined as he stopped rubbing your clit, the spasms from your walls still strong as he whispered how much he loved you.

You loved him, too.

“Beautiful,” he commented as you came down, allowing you to collapse against him as you caught your breath. His heart raced against your chest, almost as fast as yours beat. Pleasuring you pleased him and you wondered how you hit the jackpot with him.

“The pumpkin was good,” he began, running a hand up and down your back. “But I think I prefer the apple pie. It’s sweet, like you.”

You laughed breathlessly, making your walls spasm a bit around him. “Noted,” you said, reaching for the blindfold.

He stopped you before you could remove it. “Leave it on. I’m not done worshiping you yet,” he said, shocking you by tracing a bit of whipped cream on your lips. “And if you want my cream, you'll behave.”

He deserves the world! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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sagesskies · 3 months

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ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴇᴏ

✒ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴜʏ ʏᴏᴜ

✉ - ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜꜱ - ʜᴇʏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ! ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱɪᴄᴋ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀ ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴘ ʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇQᴜᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ? (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ʀɴ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ♥)

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀɪꜱʜ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀꜱ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛɪᴇꜱ, ᴍɪʟᴀɴ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ʟᴀᴛᴇ 30ꜱ), ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴏʀᴅᴇʀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ (ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ), ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

Yandere CEO who first met you at your job in your friend's family bakery. Young, bright, and full of life, wearing a baby blue apron. You eagerly greeted him with a smile, and asked how he was doing. There was nothing forced about your mannerisms, it was all genuinely, purely, you.

Yandere CEO, despite knowing it'll all end up flushed down a toilet, comes in everyday ordering the different pastries you recommend. After his seventh visit, you jokingly ask him if he's got any cavities yet and he blushes. Not that you notice.

Yandere CEO who gathers the courage to talk to you beyond simple good mornings, and responding to your questions of: “How are you Milan?” or “So that'll it be for today, eh?” and stammers out things like, “N- Nice weather today, huh?” and even, “Uh.. How- How long have you been working here for?” It's all simple, nearly no substance, but it's exceptional progress for somebody like him who barely even speaks to his secretaries beyond plain Yes's and No's.

Yandere CEO whose fair face turns a furious red whenever you tease or compliment him, calling him things like adorable and cute. Never has he been called anything like that before. People see him, with his bodybuilder-esque physique and stoic face, with it's fierce features, and are too intimidated to treat him with anything other than with a respect that is borne out of fear.

Yandere CEO who knows this is wrong. He's 38 years old, and you're only what? 23? This is wrong, this is taboo, this is predatory. But his heart can't help but beat furiously for you each time he steps inside the quaint little bakery. Your bright smile, your gentle eyes, your warm voice. You are like the sun, and he is your ever-devoted Icarus, who will crash and burn if he tries to even fly an inch closer.

Yandere CEO who is unable to sleep at night. He's used to this, he's had insomnia since he was a teenager in highschool, but never like this before. Where previously it was paranoia and anxieties that kept sleep at bay now it was you, the scent of pastries and bread, and your warmth.

Yandere CEO who unconsciously starts to act like a teenage girl. Doodling your name in the margins of his paperwork, writing (Name) x Milan over and over again in the empty pages of his journal, which was previously used exclusively for tracking his expenses but was now being used for more personal entries.

July 17, 2009

Today [Name] remembered it was my birthday, and bought me a slice of chocolate cake using his own money. I tried to keep it down, but unfortunately my body is too used to emptying its stomach whenever I eat too much.

September 7, 2009

[Name] asked me if I've been sleeping well recently, and even if I told him I was okay, he still gave me a box of teabags. He told me it helps him sleep at night, and hopes it'll be able to help me too. He's so kind, and too good to me. I can never tell him it's him who's the cause behind these sleepless nights. I think it'll devastate him. Sometimes, I hope it will.

February 13, 2010

[Name] asked me if I was going to buy somebody any pastries for Valentine's Day, and if there's anybody I'm hoping to receive any chocolates from. I wanted to tell him I hoped to receive chocolates from him, but that would be inappropriate. Then he told me he hoped his girlfriend would remember to give him some.

[Name] has a girlfriend.

Yandere CEO who doesn't show up for multiple days after you reveal this to him. He goes back to old habits, the following days occupied by work, work, and work. He sleeps rarely, and wakes up late. He eats even less than he usually does, and forgets to go to the gym.

The only thing that Yandere CEO does outside of that? Pay private investigators to learn as much as possible about you, no matter how dirty or well kept the secret is he will know.

It's unethical, a violation of all your rights, but he thought you two were close. That you were friends. A kind of relationship he barely even knew. All he knows is distant families, cold business partners, and shallow imitations of friendship. He thought you were different, you were so real, but if he didn't even know you had a girlfriend, then what else was he unaware of?

Yandere CEO whose father calls him, and tells him his secretaries have told him about how he's been acting, and advises him to take a break. Perhaps he should try to hit the dating scene? He'll have to get married eventually, and he's not getting any younger.

Yandere CEO who goes to the blind dates his mother arranges for him. Daughters of her friends, sometimes even granddaughters. Women who are sometimes a decade younger than him. Women who are his age. He never told his parents he was gay, and now he has to suffer through this.

Yandere CEO who is thinking of canceling the date on the spot when she takes him to a familiar bakery, the familiar bell rings as the door swings open and you're still there, wearing your baby blue apron, and the polite smile you flashed his date immediately widens when you see him.

Yandere CEO who freezes up, and then stammers out a greeting, face flushed. His date, who has so far only experienced the cold and stoic front he puts on, is surprised that what has broken down the stone walls he's put up is the cute, young, male baker, who has a bright grin on his face.

“Milan!” You practically chirp, “It's been so long, where have you been man?”

You were wondering where he was? You missed him? You missed him? Milan? He couldn't believe his ears, he felt like he could faint.

Milan clears his throat, averting his grey eyes away from you, and avoiding Carrie's burning gaze.

“I have been preoccupied with work,” He explains, it's not a lie, he's just exaggerating how much work there was for him when it was basically just him doing paperwork and attending meetings every once in a while, “I apologize if my absence has bothered you…”

You chuckle, “I'm just glad to see you again.” Milan can't help the small smile that forms on his face, but he restrains it from widening into a grin. He's in front of Carrie, a friend but at the same time a business partner, a marriage prospect, an unwelcome intruder into what could've been a moment between you two.

You glance at Carrie as if remembering that she was here, “Ah, sorry, you must've been confused on how I know him, but I'm a friend of Milan,” You smile kindly at her, “Name's [Name] [L/N], nice to meet you!”

Carrie forces a polite smile on her face, “A pleasure,” Her eyes are filled with a cold fury, though Milan knows it's not directed to you, “My name is Carolyn, Carolyn Deveuraux. However, you may call me Carrie.”

Milan fakes a cough, “Mhm, anyways.. I'd like to have the usual… and Carrie you'll have..?”

She hums, “I'll have a cinnabon.”

You glance between the two, noticing the obvious tension between them, “Oookay, I'll have that prepared for you two in a jiffy,” Milan hands you his card, and savors the slight brush of your fingers, before your warmth is teared away and you slide it back to him when you're done.

He glares at Carrie for scaring you away, but she doesn't even look at him, her eyes are fixed on you. Milan wants to gouge her eyes out, she doesn't even deserve to look at you. Not when she barely knows you. Not like him, who knows every single thing about you that his money can buy for him.

You head into the back to prepare the goods, and Carrie goes back outside where there are tables and chairs. She sits on one, and crosses her arms. Milan settles on the one across from her, posture straight, arms on the table, eyes… decidedly not looking at Carrie.

“So, you and that man… [Name], was it?” Milan nods, she continues, “You know each other, do you?” She taps one carefully manicured nail against the arm of the chair. Tap, tap, tap.

Milan does not simply know [Name], he practically lives underneath the younger man's skin, but instead of verbalizing this he nods once more, “We have known each other for two years.”

“Hm,” Her eyes narrow, they are blue, like ice, “ And how old is [Name]?”

“Twenty-four years old,” Milan tells her, “He had just gotten out of college when we first met.” His eyes trail to the window into the bakery, you still haven't emerged. Why were you taking so long?

“Does he know?” Carrie’s tone is sharp and frigid. Milan glances at her, if he is not careful then he could be caught up in an inescapable storm.

“He does not,” Milan admits, “And I'd prefer to keep it that way.” You still have your girlfriend, and he's content with your secrets and the stolen pictures.

Carrie glares at him, “Why him? Is it his mind? His personality? Or is he simply a pretty boy you like to ogle at?” She's angry, and Milan, for his lack of proper socialization, has been taught to read people, every single shift in expression or body language has a hidden meaning, can tell this fury stems from something personal.

“That is none of your business,” Milan had known Carrie for a while now, since his 30th birthday party where his father invited all his associates, and Lewis Deveuraux had brought his 28 year old daughter Carolyn, but they were never friends so much as allies in the cutthroat world of capitalism, and she was crossing a line.

“I can tell your father.”

“Have you ever heard of the saying, ‘Snitches get stitches’, Carolyn?” Milan asks, “You tell him, and I'll be doing so much more than giving you stitches.”

Carrie doesn't even flinch, “Not much you can do when stripped of your position at your father's company,” She doesn't get a chance to continue, not when you arrive with a tray carrying the warm pastries. You set the plates down, as well as the complementary coffee.

“Here you go…” You glance between the two of them, “It's been nice seeing you again Milan,” You smile at Carrie, “Great to meet you too, Carrie, hope to see you around some more.”

Milan digs a nail into the skin of his palm hard enough to draw blood, if only to stop himself from punching that smirk on Carrie's face off, “Thank you, [Name],” Her voice is pleasant, light and airy, “It was a pleasure to meet a… friend of Milan today.”

“Same here,” You grin. You wave goodbye to the both of them, then head back into the bakery.

Carrie's polite smile is gone as soon as you're out of the vicinity, “Let's talk about this later,” She reaches out and places a well-manicured hand on top of Milan's larger one, and her lips curl up, “For now, enjoy the treats your little crush has made for us.”

Yandere CEO, who since that reunion has started coming back more often. Happy to finally be able to bask in your presence again, thoughts of your girlfriend are dashed from his mind when he saw your smile again after two months of being deprived of it.

The only downside? Carrie is there as well. Chatting you up, using her charm to lower your guard down. She's a snake, or a wolf in sheep's clothing. Yandere CEO knows she's trying to break you two apart, but he won't let her.

Yandere CEO who can't stand watching you smile at her, keeping up with her bright mind in ways he knew you could but had never seen before. He didn't know it was possible, but he's become even more enraptured. Handsome with not only a good personality, but also intelligent. God, you were perfect.

Yandere CEO is able to himself with an endurance he didn't even know he possessed. He's not used to the rage that has been gathering inside him, but it's not that similar to managing his fear and paranoia. He can't do anything to Carrie, not when you two have practically become the best of friends.

Yandere CEO who decides that he can't let himself fall behind, he was here first you know. He's known you for two years while Carrie was only for a few weeks. He musters up the confidence he often uses in meeting rooms, trying to look suave and cool, but instead making you laugh.

“Haha… you're seriously so adorable Milan,” You tease, “What're you acting so serious for?”

After that, Yandere CEO decides to just act how he did before, it's clearly more effective as you've even invited him to eat with you in the park near the bakery during your lunch hours. Something you haven't done in the two whole years you've known each other.

He realizes that in a sense, you are like him. Despite his stoicness, and your expressive features, his assertive aura, with your laid back vibe, both of you have an appreciation for genuine people. It makes his heart beat faster, for some inexplicable reason.

Yandere CEO who listens to you attentively as you start opening up to him more about your life. Your struggles with paying off college debt, your inability to land a higher paying job, and how you don't have enough money to pay for your rent. He already knows about all of this, but is happy nonetheless to be able to give you a comforting hug or pat on the back. One time, you actually cried and he got to feel the warmth of your tears as they raced down your face, they soaked into the skin of his palm as he wiped them away and offered you words of comfort.

Yandere CEO who abides by the law of equivalent exchange, and opens up to you more as well. He's heard before that the more imperfect you make yourself out to be, the more attractive you were for it was a sign of humanity. So what's more human than sharing his past as a bullied fat kid, and the whiplash he got once he had bulked up and attracted admirers like they were flies? Maybe it's the insomnia, the social anxiety, and the knowledge that he's surrounded by shallow people. Whatever it is, it works.

Yandere CEO who has started to feel genuinely close to you. Where before, it was akin to a celebrity having to deal with an awkward yet starstruck fan, now it felt like you two were old friends having a good time together. This is the first time he's had a relationship like this and he'd rather have his company go bankrupt and end up homeless on the streets than lose it.

September 12, 2010

[Name] is not meant for me, he is young, full of potential, and with a girl that he loves. But he tempts me with his warm eyes, beautiful smile, and those kind words of his that has had me wrapped around his finger since the very first day I met him.

It is wrong, it is dirty. I am too old, too broken, worn out like a hand me down toy. However I cannot help myself. He is like the sun, bright and comforting, yet he burns me so.

[Name]

Even just writing his name has me weak at the knees, it makes me feel alive. Like I can face the day without wanting to retreat back to my bed and refusing to get out till I am dragged by my feet. Just the idea of being able to catch a glimpse at him, gives me the energy to get up and do a marathon.

[Name] is too charming for his own good. He’s such a sweet boy, not knowing how much he tempts me to do such despicable things every single time I see him talking to customers or laughing with Carrie. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.

I should be leaving him alone, and never speaking to him again. He is fine, he is perfect, he is like God. But I am nothing but a filthy sinner who shouldn’t even be within his sights. Better kept away, far far away. But I want nothing more than to touch him, to hold his feet in my filthy hands and press my cold lips to it. His foot alone is worth more than my entire career. His life? Priceless.

However if I were to distance myself from him again, I’d become a shell. No better than a living corpse. My father and mother would be concerned for the business, and they’d keep on trying to figure out why I’m in such a state, till they eventually trace it all back to [Name], and I can’t have that. I don’t want them knowing about him. It is bad enough Carrie knows. But my own parents?

I cannot accept that. I will not share him. They would take him away from me like they took away everything else good that could’ve happened to me by being my parents and birthing into the life that I’ve led. His warmth would be engulfed in their cold gazes and harsh words, and soon he would be no better than I am, and that cannot happen.

He may not be meant for me, but I will make sure nobody else can have him.

Even that girlfriend of his.

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

#yandere male #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere imagines #male yandere #male reader #x reader #yandere #yandere male x reader #Milan Balter #sorry i've been dead guys :)#school's been hectic #ya boy had to do a some public speaking (T_T)#anyways this was very fun #he's so pathetic #i love him

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lulumilkshake · 11 months

Text

pretty little wife

pairings: g. satoru

description: he couldn’t help but show love to his pretty housewife.

warnings: gojo has a housewife kink, food play, mentions of wet dreams, non consensual photo taking, idk just sex lmfao

a/n: currently coping from chapter 225 even though ik he won’t die that easily LMAOO

gojo really couldn’t help but show love to his beautiful little housewife.

you were an angel compared to him. always fulfilling his every need all the time.

if he was hungry? you’d make him the best meal.

if he was sleepy? you’d let him take a nap on your chest, his favorite pillow.

if he wanted to fuck you? you’d of course, let him!

therefore, he had a wet dream about you last night.

you were in nothing but your sweet little apron, letting him lick buttercream off the valley of your breasts, as he pounded his fat cock into you rapidly.

as he woke up in the morning, he groaned at the feeling of his boner straining against his sweatpants.

never in his life would he think a woman would have an effect on him like this. but he couldn’t help it. who wouldn’t when you were so sweet and obedient to him?

he was about to roll over and press his hard-on against your ass but he noticed you weren’t next to him. he groaned once more that he had to get up with the feeling of blue balls.

when he got up, he rethought about his dream and the way you were moaning as he slammed his cock into you, overstimulated as his dick hit every spot inside of you.

“fuck,” he whispered out as his dick was pulsing harder at the thought of you moaning under him.

“gonna make that dream real, sweet girl” he mumbled out as he headed downstairs, palming his boner to soothe the pain a bit.

“honey..!! i have something to give you!!” he spoke cockily while he was walking down the stairs, looking for you.

while walking down stairs and through the living room, the smell of pancakes filled his nostrils.

“his pretty little housewife,” he thought. you were so cute for him. waking up so early to give him a nice breakfast.

fuck.

as he walked into the kitchen, he stared at the blessed sight that his eyes behold.

you were in nothing but panties, an apron, and his shirt, humming a sweet tune to yourself as you sway your hips.

his mouth was watering at the sight of you, he couldn’t help but palm his cock again before letting out a wolf whistle as he leaned on the doorway, trying to play it cool.

“look at you, pretty girl” he spoke teasingly as he walked torwards you.

you jumped a bit as you heard his voice, but giggled soon afterwards.

“good mornin’ sweetheart! did you wake up okay, sleepy?” you ask while giggling more, your voice filled with love for your snow white haired husband. your teasing was barely even teasing. in his eyes, you were the most innocent girl ever.

you were gonna drive him insane. your voice itself was enough to make the strongest become the weakest.

he grabs your hips, putting his head into the nape of your neck. his clothed cock is throbbing against your panties, as he whispers in your ear.

“would’ve woken up better if you were in bed next to me. then we wouldn’t have to do this now, yeah?”

before you could respond to him, he pushed you up against the counter before pulling down your panties.

“s-satoru!” you whine out as you’re surprised by his sudden advances. you let him do whatever he wants though, because after all you just want him to be happy, and he loved the feeling of knowing you thought that way about him and only him.

“i know baby, just gotta take care of this. then I’ll eat breakfast with you, okay?” he doesn’t wait for your answer though as he rips off your (his) shirt, leaving on the apron just like in his dream.

you moan out at the feeling of him ripping off your shirt. “j-just what are you trying to do, s-satoru?” you question since you noticed he didn’t take off your apron.

he ignores you as he is only focused on taking off his pants. his long cock springing out and hitting his abdomen. you drool a bit at the sight, and so does your pussy.

satoru notices this and he lets out a loud laugh. “so wet for me already, huh sweet girl? but i barely even touched you yet.” he teases you and you pout a bit at this, staring up at his tall figure with doe eyes.

fuck, seeing you liked this turned him on so much. his cock twitched at your pout. “awh don’t be like that baby,” he says squeezing your face and giving you a quick kiss before lining his cock up with the entrance of your dripping pussy.

“i always make my sweet housewife feel good, don’t i?” he says with a smile before he thrusts into your pussy hard and suddenly without warning. as he thrusted into you with precision, you were seeing stars. you were drooling everywhere, babbling out nonsense as his hips bucked into your tight cunt.

“s-satoru” was all you could scream out as he continued to pound into your pussy. he chuckled at the sight. you were so cock drunk, but not even close to how pussy drunk he was. he had to close his eyes at the sight so he wouldn’t cum so soon.

when he looked to the right, trying to take his eyes off your body so he wouldn’t cum before you, he noticed a bottle of whipped cream on the counter. he remembered his dream at this moment, and took the whipped cream bottle and stared directly at your tits. he had a shit eating grin on his face, that you could only gulp at what was gonna happen next.

you looked up at him with the whipped cream bottle in his hand, not even being able to question it because his cock kept hitting every single spot inside of you.

he cackled mischievously as he had an idea. he took the whipped cream bottle and starting spelling out, “torus cockslut” on your neck and breasts before laughing hard at the sight. he pulled out his phone without you knowing to take a picture of the slutty sight.

you didn’t know what he was laughing so hard at, but you couldn’t help but laugh (and moan) with him too. you thought he was just being wholesome and enjoying the sweet moment.. oh love, were you wrong. when was the strongest sorcerer ever wholesome when fucking you like this?

as soon as he finished up laughing, he started to lick at the whipped cream, cleaning up your body. as he did this, he continued to thrust his length into you, even rougher this time due to the sight of you almost fucked out.

he licked at your breasts like it was his last meal, paying special attention to your hard nipples. he sucked at your breasts, licking up any other spots he missed. you whimper and moan out louder at the feeling of his tongue all over your breasts and neck.

“t—too much, toru!” you clenched around his cock harder at the feeling of him pounding into you and the feeling of his tongue on you.

“fuck— squeezing around me so tight baby.” he groans out as he continues to thrust his hips into you, getting deeper at every plunge. the blunt head of his cock hitting every part inside of you.

“s-satoru! g-gonna’ cum!” you gasp out loud, the feeling of your orgasm pooling inside of you.

“shit— me too, baby. c-cum with me, take all my load!” he grunts loudly as his thrusts stammer as he releases a hot load of cum inside of you, painting your walls with ropes of cum. you moan out at the feeling of his cum filling you as you milk his cock, pussy spasming as you reach the end of your high.

you both pant loudly as you both hit your orgasm together. he pulls out of you quickly, as cum spills out of your pretty pussy. he smiles at the sight. even though you were his sweet little housewife, he loved to ruin you.

he picked you up and sat you down on the couch before giving you a blanket, some water, and a plate of pancakes.

“thank you, satoru!” you smiled sweetly at his affection and aftercare towards you. he kept his promise and sat down to eat breakfast with you. he was such a great husband!

as he sat down next to you, he chuckled loud as he opened his phone.

“what’s so funny, baby?” you ask, crawling over to him wanting to laugh with him as well.

“aren’t you just the most adorable girl in the world?” he answered cooing at you. he started laughing loud and cocky again at his wallpaper, staring at it with another famous shit eating grin as he admired his artwork.

it was..

a photo of you..

with the words.. ‘torus cockslut on your breasts..

written with love by the one and only, Gojo Satoru.

your cheeks warmed up at the sight.

“w-wha—!” you gasp before covering your face in embarrassment. it wasn’t a wholesome moment at all!

he giggles once more before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close to his bare chest.

“a bit disappointed i forgot to put my signature, but there is always a next time, yeah?”

a/n: in gojo we trust! hope u enjoyed <3

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #Gojo imagines #gojo smut #satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fan fiction #jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #gojo x female reader

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arlowthenacho · 5 months

Text

that funny feeling

(carmen berzatto x reader)

summary: you thought carmen berzatto was just a hookup. a fuck-buddy. key word, you thought.

warnings: cursing, allusions to sex but not really? its only mentioned a couple times. no smut, intended lowercase, if theres anything i missed plz let me know !!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: arlow thought about carmen spoon feeding them and made it angsty lol. this is rlly short but fret not !! i think this is gonna be a 2 parter, possibly 3 parter? idk, but i think its gonna be a series lol. anyway, enjoy my lovelies !! 🫶🤍

it started as a one time thing. a one-night-stand. a meaningless hookup. something that would and could only happen once.

until it happened again. and again, and again.

because carmen berzatto was a drug, and you were addicted to him. you craved him like lungs crave oxygen, but you weren’t sure that the feeling was reciprocated.

because if carmen berzatto was a book, he’d be written in code. scrawled in a language you didn’t understand, in writing to confusing to decipher. because carmen berzatto was nothing if not confusing.

a sudden vibration on your nightstand pulls you from your thoughts as you swipe open the screen. a text from carmen. shit.

carmy 🧑‍🍳

you up?

fuck. shit, shit, shit.

you quickly sit up and type back a response.

yeah.

you hold down the backspace button. too simple.

i wasn’t until you woke me up

pop. too accusatory.

i am now. whats up?

good enough.

you click send and set your phone back down on your bed, waiting for a response.

bzz.

the reply was almost instant. maybe that scared you a little bit.

your finger hovers over the screen, debating whether to open the text now, or just forget about it until the morning.

the former won.

carmy 🧑‍🍳

can you come over?

oh. oh.

you don’t know why you expected anything different. it’s not like you were dating him. even though you wish you were. in his eyes, you were just a casual hookup who he occasionally called for something not relating to sex.

you heave a sigh and shift your eyes back over to the phone in your hands.

yeah, ok.

sent.

you don’t really care if it sounds passive aggressive, or angry, or disappointed or whatever else it could sound like to him. to be quite honest, you just want to get this over with.

you quickly change out of your pajamas into something more presentable. a white sweater, blue jeans, throw in some lacy undergarments and you’re heading out the door and into your car.

you turn on the ignition and start the short drive to carmy’s apartment. you have his address memorized, (which you will deny is creepy until your dying day) so you don’t need to use a gps.

you turn on some music and try to distract your racing thoughts. its not like this is the first time you’re meeting him. no, far from it. but you don’t think your brain has processed that yet, because your heart is pounding and fluttering like a bird caged within your chest.

you finally make it to his apartment after what feels like an hour, and you’re standing—quite awkwardly—at carmen’s door, your fist hovering over the wood hesitantly.

after a full minute of standing at the door with your arm raised, you decide to bite the bullet and knock on the damn door.

so you do.

and he answers instantly. like a fucking gentleman.

his hair is tousled, and he runs a hand through it nervously. his eyes somehow look even more blue in the shitty light the hallway of his building provides, and it’s driving you crazy.

he is gorgeous. he is perfect. he’s all the synonyms for beautiful you can cram into one human being.

“hi,”

carmen’s voice is deep and gravelly, still thick with sleep even though he’s probably been awake for some time now.

“hey,”

a beat passes.

“can i-?”

he jolts up from the doorway he was leaning on.

“oh, yeah. shit—yeah, come in. sorry.”

an apron is tied around his waist, a gray sweater fitting loosely around his frame. it makes his eyes appear bright, like gleaming pools of sapphire that you want to spend every pretty penny on.

nonetheless, you smile politely and step into his apartment.

no matter how many times you’ve been here, the first thing you notice is always his bookshelves. more so, the books. cookbooks, magazines, culinary textbooks and newspaper articles litter his floor and decorate his walls.

the second thing you always notice is his ever-growing collection of denim. jeans and jackets make up most of his wardrobe, and are crammed into whatever space he could find.

after looking around his small apartment, a smell hits your nose.

its…pasta?

no, that can’t be it. you were just here to fuck, right? the food was probably for someone else. for work, or somebody he wanted a real relationship with. not you.

the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

you sigh, disappointment crashing into your heart like waves against rocks for the second time tonight.

despite that, you’re the first to break the silence.

“aren’t we going to your room?” you cringe at the tone of your voice. it sounded exactly how you felt. disappointed, hurt, maybe a little bitter.

“what? sorry, couldn’t hear you.” carmen leans down to you to hear better, his breath a faint whisper against your skin. your breath hitches.

“aren’t we going to your room?” you repeat, a tad louder than before.

“oh. no, no, no. no, that not—that isn’t—” carmen seems to be at a loss for words, and he feels like a total dick.

“we aren’t?” you’re confused, but hide it well. you raise a brow pointedly. “then why’d you ask me to come over?” for the first time in a couple of minutes, you notice where you followed him.

“i—just,” he searches around for something.

a spoon, full of some kind of red sauce. he cups his hand under the utensil to catch anything that drips, and urges you to come closer.

you’re in his kitchen. his safe space. his fucking sacred space.

and suddenly a wave of confusion and frustration and hope is erupting within you. so many emotions and so much fucking hope. hope that this could be something more. hope that maybe you were wrong. silly, foolish, childish hope that enthralls you completely in its deceitfully warm embrace.

he’s still holding the spoon to your mouth when he speaks.

“can you try it? it’s something for the bear. for the new menu. wanted your opinion on it.” he looks nervous, like he wasn’t the one who invited you over. like he isn’t currently the one lighting your cheeks ablaze and causing your to heart implode under the sheer force of your adoration for him.

“oh, um, yeah. of course.”

he smiles. a close-lipped thing that makes you want to kiss it off of him.

you move to take the spoon from him, but he gently shoves your arm down against your side, says “open up,” and puts the spoon in your mouth.

the food is great. more than great. but you’d be lying if you said you were paying attention to that.

because carmen fucking berzatto just spoon fed you. like a couple.

and now the domesticity is crushing you, mind, body and soul.

because you’re in love with carmen berzatto.

and by some miracle, he might be in love with you too.

#💌 arlow writes #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear fx #the bear x reader

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black-aurora-nora · 1 year

Text

Sibling Squabbles | Yandere!Superman and Jon x Teen!Reader

“Jon, please get out the way.” You demanded in an even tone.

The younger boy didn’t budge from his spot in front of the door. His gaze held firm and he shook his head, “Dad said you couldn’t leave.”

“Clark doesn’t hold authority over me.” You reminded him matter of factly, “He’s not my father and I’m not your sister.”

Jon frowned deeply at your words, “Dad said you’d have a hard time-“

“Move, Jon!” You demanded again, louder.

You moved up to him, trying to shuffle past him with your backpack filled with a few essentials.

“Where would you even go?! You were homeless before this!”

“And? At least I wasn’t stuck in some house with creepy men!” You rebutted angrily, grabbing for the doorknob.

Jon grabbed your wrist, gripping it tight, “I’m not creepy! And neither is my dad! Take that back!” He knew that his dad told him to be gentle with you since you were still settling down but you were going too far.

“No! I mean it! You’re creepy!” You repeated sharply, trying to wrestle your wrist from Jon’s grip. “Ugh! It’s no wonder your mom left-!”

A sickening crack sounded from your wrist and you saw it crinkle in a way it wasn’t supposed to then a horrible pain that left you screaming from both the shock of what happened and the pain.

Jon stood frozen, breathing uneven.

He looked from your crumpled arm to your snotty face.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you. His father had warned him plenty of times to use his powers for good and here he was hurting you because you said something hurtful.

“I-I’m- (Y/N), I’m so-!” He reached out to you and you jerked back violently with a yelp.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” You snapped, opening the door with your good hand and running out towards the trail that led to the city.

Jon decided it best that he not follow you.

He knew you wouldn’t escape now anyhow. You were far too hurt and in too much shock to get far enough. And no one would allow a young teen like you to walk around with a broken arm if you did make it to the city.

The next time he saw you, which was a day later, his father had brought you back home with a blue cast on your arm.

You looked exhausted, pissed off, and every other negative emotion that people could feel.

Clark had you both in the living room and glanced at the two of you sternly. He looked at you first with an expectant gaze.

“(Y/N), apologize to your brother.” He said, arms crossed.

You kept your gaze on the cast for a moment.

A deep breath in, “Sorry.”

“You can do better than that.” Clark wasn’t one that took apologies lightly. You had to put your full heart into it. “Remember what we talked about at the doctor’s.”

Another deep breath, “Sorry for saying stuff about your mother.” You gritted out, “And about you… I didn’t mean it.” Your voice was incredibly monotone but Clark knew that was the best they were going to get from you right now.

He knew there’d be plenty more altercations in the future to teach you how to apologize properly and honestly.

He turned to Jon, “Be more careful in the future,” He reminded him simply, “And apologize to your sister.”

Jon’s lip wobbled as he gazed at you and you wished great harm upon him. How dare he act like he was the one that had been victimized? Like he was innocent?

How dare Clark make you apologize first when Jon had hurt you? Now you were stuck in a cast and had been set back.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I won’t do that ever again and I forgive you.” He gave you a teary smile, “I know you’re having a hard time and I should’ve kept my anger in check.”

Clark smiled warmly, “Try to keep the sibling squabble to a minimum, okay, you two?” He patted you both on the head.

He then stood up and made his way to the kitchen, “Who wants breakfast?” He asked, tying an apron around his person, “I’m thinking waffles, eggs and bacon!”

Jon licked his lips, “I’ll have some! Can I help?!” He asked excitedly, running after his father.

“Of course you can, Jon.” You heard Clark answer from the kitchen, “(Y/N), come join us.”

God you hated them with every fiber of your being.

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reidsgirly · 5 months

Text

invisible string.

pairing ! - spencer reid x fem!baker!reader

synopsis ! - spencer likes you, but can’t make the first move to save his life. so it’s up to you now, isn’t it?

word count ! - 1.2k

cw ! - prob inaccurate descriptions of a bakery, no use of y/n, readers bakery is called cake n’ cookies cause why not

It all started when Garcia came in with a dozen doughnuts from a bakery the team had never heard of. Spencer thought they were the best doughnuts he’d had in his entire life.

“Garcia,” Spencer started, “where’d you get these from? These are amazing.”

“Oh my gosh! I’m so glad you asked!” she gushed. “This bakery that just opened down the street and their doughnuts are obviously amazing! I’m obsessed with their Frappuccinos, you should really try them sometime! Or maybe just get some coffee cause’ you’re boring ol’ Spencer”

He kept the bakery in the back of his mind for a later time.

Two weeks later, he found himself standing inside the very same bakery Garcia spoke so highly of.

At the sound of the bell chiming, you come running out of the kitchen, with your hair tied up in a high ponytail. You had on a white and blue floral apron, splotches of flour all across it. Spencer thought you were one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, and even that was an understatement.

“Hi.” you greet him. “What can I get you today?”

“Uh, can I get a chocolate frosted doughnut with sprinkles?” God, he was awkward with the simplest of requests.

“Would that be all for you, sir?”

“Yeah, thank you.” he smiled. Spencer Reid smiles. Not the awkward, forced smile he does, but a genuine smile. He smiles at the woman giving him a doughnut.

“Of course! I’ll be right back with that.” you responded, your face painted with glee.

As he waited, Spencer had nothing better to do than look around at the various cupcakes, cakes, and other pastries you had displayed around your store. The plants you had dotted around. The tiny tables with even tinier chairs.

He found this place to be adorable.

After five minutes, you skipped back into view with his doughnut in a tiny white box, with a pretty pink ribbon tied around it.

“That’ll be $2.32!” you smiled at him, again. That damn smile.

Spencer gave you the designated amount while still smiling, grabbed his box, and before he could make his way out, you spoke out to him.

“Have a great day, sir!” you smiled at Spencer for the third time that day.

“You too.” Spencer waved at you before he made his departure.

He walked into work with a bigger smile than usual that day.

“What’s got you all happy?” Garcia questioned him upon seeing the unusually large grin on his face.

Before Spencer could even respond, she cut him off.

“Oh my god! You went to cake n’ cookies and didn’t get me anything? How could I possibly forgive you? But enough about me, you’ve seen the lovely lady working there, right? She’s so sweet and pretty and she knows my name!” she raved on about the bakery.

“Alright sweetheart, give the boy wonder a break.” Morgan stepped in (admittedly saving Spencer from Garcias’ ranting.)

“He went to cake n’ cookies without me! How can I possibly give him a break?” Garcia whined, dramatic as she always is.

Spencer made his way to his desk, all while thinking about what Garcia said about you. Well, you were a pretty woman, but he certainly didn’t have any time for romantic affairs on the side.

But he could make time, couldn’t he?

The second time Spencer found himself in your bakery was to buy his mother a strawberry doughnut.

He assumed she’d like the place as much as he did, and he wanted her to try it at least once.

“Hello again!” you greet Spencer. “What is it today, sir?” He was slightly surprised that you remembered his face, even though it’s been a couple of months since he last visited your bakery.

You had your hair tied in the same ponytail as last time, only this time your floral apron was clean. It wasn’t that much of a difference, but Spencer noticed it.

“Can I get a strawberry frost doughnut?”

“Ooh, that’s new. Of course! I’ll be right back with that!”

You disappeared into your kitchen, allowing Spencer to look around your bakery for the second time.

This time, he noticed how your tables and chairs were now decorated with lace and the candles and teapots and teacups you had lined on the shelf behind the counter were new.

He also noticed the plants you have lined up outside, just on both sides of the entrance.

Spencer is so entranced in all the latest decorations of your bakery, that he barely notices you return with his treats.

You skipped out with his doughnut in your iconic white box and pink frilly ribbon.

“That’ll be $2.92!” you smiled at him like you did the last time he was here. You caught him off guard but in the best way possible.

He gave you the designated amount once again, and took his box, all while smiling at you.

“Have a great day sir! See you soon!” you exclaimed.

“You too.” he said cheerfully and waved as he did the last time.

Spencer knew he’d be coming back soon, maybe too soon for his liking.

The third time Spencer finds himself in your bakery is to buy Garcia a dozen for her birthday. He knew how much she adored your bakery and couldn’t think of a better gift than a dozen sugary sweets for her.

This time around, you had a few more customers than the previous two times he’d come here. It wasn’t odd, but it didn’t feel normal.

“Hey handsome,” you greeted him, handsome was new. A good new. “what can I get you today?”

“Can I get a dozen chocolate rainbow doughnuts?”

“Fun. What’s the occasion?” you questioned him again while writing down his order.

“A friend’s birthday.” Now he was the one smiling at you, once again.

“Fancy, coming right up with that!”

This time after you disappear into your kitchen, Spencer doesn’t take a look around. Instead, he nervously taps his foot while waiting for you to come back.

You skip out as you always do, and Spencer is already digging through his wallet for his money before you can even tell him his amount. He wanted to get to Garcia as soon as possible to celebrate with her as she did for him.

“It’ll be $6.27 today!”

He hands you the money silently, and quickly gets his dozen to give Garcia.

“Oh, and tell your friend I said happy birthday!” you say to him on his way out, and he can’t help the way his heart swells and the small gesture. You didn’t even know his friend and you were wishing her a happy birthday. Yeah, it was common courtesy but it just felt different coming from you.

“I will. Have a good one.”

“You too!” is the last thing he hears your overly-enthusiastic voice say to him before he leaves.

After he makes it to the office, sets down the box, and opens it for inspection, he notices a little note tucked in the corner of the box.

Call me sometime, handsome.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

+ BONUS

“What’s got you all smiley, genius?” Morgan questions.

“The lady from the bakery gave me her number.” he responds, half shocked and half amused.

“My man,” Morgan pats him on the shoulder, “finally getting some play.”

“What happened?” JJ asked as she came from the kitchen, Garcia following suit.

“Boy wonder finally got a girls number.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 3 months

Text

most of you will not understand the agony of this outfit. but hey here's fantasy au Howdy!

rambles:

yes. i know. he looks like a gunslinger. but I think it'd be funny if Howdy shows up and he minorly tweaks the genre simply by Existing! plus, he has to make himself useful beyond being a traveling salesman - he doesn't have a scrap of magic in him! so! alchemist gunslinger!

due to much of this "final" outfit design being Miguel's (@indigopoptart <3 thanks for your help homeslice <3) influence, i have less to say than usual! i'll talk about the things i Kept from the first terrible, terrible draft!

i wanted him to have full-coverage gloves because One, gloves fuck, & Two, shooting gloves! plus, he regularly works with dangerous materials! gotta keep his hands as safe as possible! speaking of his guns, they were a Ton of fun to draw. i wanted to make them ornate... Howdy seems like he'd enjoy nice things? fancy stuff perhaps? anyway the guns have his tavern "logo" on them!

the "second safety" mentioned triggers a magic-oriented mechanism that allows him to piece the guns together! they "unfold" into a big ol clusterfuck of a powerhouse weapon! unfortunately, using this immediately breaks the guns and they have to be repaired, so it's a "break glass in case of emergency" ace up the Neighborhood's sleeve!

i like to imagine that his bandolier, while cool, stresses everyone out a little bit. each bullet is full of pressurized weaponized magic. If they break while on the bandolier, well! Howdy would probably be very much Royally Fucked! i also drew the bullets too large here, so imagine that there's a lot more than shown and they're a lot smaller. I didn't realize this mistake until right now! oopsies!

i want to keep elements of the canon outfits in these fantasy ones. hence why his vest is striped and blue, he's still got the reddish brown pants, and! why his cloak clasp is shaped like a tie! and why the inside of his cloak resembles his apron!

i like to think that Howdy got his magic pack by swindling some poor soul out of it! when the buckles are undone, it unfolds into a vendor stand that looks Much different than the tiny scribble provided! said scribble is there to ah... what's the word. Demonstrate? get the point across? it's actually quite a nice stall! he has space to sell, and a workbench to tinker on! the pockets on the bag actually do function as pockets, though.

#'why does he have a ponytail' yeah i dont have an excuse for that one #im projecting my mullet & mullet-esque hairstyle loving self i suppose!#he's just like me now....#< nah im jesting! my back floof isnt nearly that long!#anyway howdy my absolute beloved <3 #hes so funny. i love thinking about him #in general but also this is an au post! thinking about That!#i love it when he comes along on adventures #everyone is having downtime and he's on the side of the road handling volatile materials and bothering passersby #its a good thing he's coordinated! probably!#he's coordinated right? ehhhh i have faith that he is #scribble salad #wh fantasy au #ohhhh i should draw him with his hood up...#OHHHH I SHOULD DRAW A LIL FANTASY AU RAINY DAY THING #< i say this as if i have the energy!#its been low lately... very low...#i love being tired and drained for literally no reason!

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thebearer · 7 months

Text

the milestones menu: nonna berzatto's homemade pasta

prompt: yours and carmen's first "i love you".

contains: fluff, general fluff. some mentions to dead relatives, carmen's self doubt, but very minimal bc it's very fluffy :)

2 cups of flour- Semolina.

4 Large Eggs

Pinch of Salt

Put flour into a mound. Make a center, and add the eggs to the middle. Whisk slowly with a fork, gradually working it in little at a time until nice and thick. Knead the mixture for about ten minutes. Let it rest in the fridge for thirty minutes. Put it in a ball, and roll it out very thin.

“Can’t believe you never had homemade pasta.” Carmen shook his head, blue eyes peeking out from under the mess of curls.

“Nope.” You shook your head, grinning over the crystal wine glass, sipping your riesling slowly. “Strictly a boxed pasta girl.”

“Fuckin’ criminal.” Carmen grinned, a playful, lopsided smirk that had you blushing.

The counter was covered in flour, stopping just where you rested, propped up on the granite while Carmen worked. Your eyes trained on his hands, hands that stirred the eggs into the flour, kneaded the dough until your thighs were clenching.

“My Nonna is rollin’ in her grave right now, you know that?” Carmen pulled you from your gaze, rolling out the dough.

“Noooo, don't say that.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re making me feel bad, Carmen. I swear I thought Olive Garden made fresh pasta.”

Carmen laughed, a little shy but louder now- more himself. He’d blossomed with you lately, unveiling new parts of himself every single day. “‘M just kiddin’, baby.” Carmen hummed, eyes cutting to you a little skeptical. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. That sounded douchey, right?”

You smiled, setting your glass behind you. “No, I was just messin’ with you, bear.” The nickname- his nickname. Hearing it more and more roll from your tongue, each time his heart skipped harder than the last.

“Is this her recipe?” You asked, picking up the faded recipe card, looped cursive on the aged paper. “Your Nonna’s?”

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded. “I, uh, so when I left to go to culinary school, right? She was sick, and… and I think she, like, knew that when I went to New York that would be the last time she saw me.” Carmen’s face dropped, slow and sad, it made your own heart sink.

“So she-she gave me all these recipe books and-and cards that were hers. We used to cook together a lot. She taught me how to cook, y’know? My mom and dad were always at the restaurant and didn’t want to cook when they got home. They didn’t want me in the restaurant either so I spent a lot of time with her.” Carmen muttered. You could see the memories playing behind his eyes.

You liked to picture that version of Carmen, a little boy with wild curls, helping his Nonna cook. Happy memories.

“That’s sweet.” You smiled, leaning against the cabinets. “She did a really good job. You know she’s so insanely proud of you.”

Carmen snorted, shaking his head lightly. “Yes, she is. Everyone’s proud of you, Carmen… I’m proud of you.” You hesitate, eyes scanning his features. It was true, of course, but handling Carmen sometimes was like handling a frightened animal. You were never sure what would make him scatter away in fear.

Carmen swallowed thickly, cheeks flushed red, lips in a tight line. “T-Thanks.” Carmen muttered, wiping his hands on his apron, tossing the flour back into his clammy hands.

“She, uh, she woulda loved you, y’know.” Carmen’s eyes met yours, intense and piercing. “I wish you coulda met her.”

“Yeah, me too.” You nod. “I would’ve loved to hear all the baby Carmen cooking stories. I bet she had some good ones.” You smiled, bright and wide- perfect. It made Carmen’s brain numb.

“Yeah, she would.” Carmen nodded, hands stilling, still buried in the dough.

He felt it in his bones, his heart, consuming his thoughts. The overwhelming need he’d felt for weeks, since the first time you kissed him really, that he’d been fighting- too scared to say. What he felt every time he looked at you, when he thought about you.

“Um, I-I wanna say something, and-and I don’t know if I should even fuckin’ say this or-or if it’s… fuck, if you-you feel the same or I just, I don’t wanna fuck this up because this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and-and I’m workin’ on not ruinin’ good shit in my life and bein’ ok with it like-like my therapist says ya know, but-” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in fast, overwhelming bouts that took you by surprise.

Carmen flustered, reaching a dough covered hand to his face, the sticky batter catching on his brows and hair. He flushed deeply, hands shaking in embarrassment, cursing under his breath. “F-Fuck, I-I’m sorry. I-I, nevermind, it’s not… I don’t know why-why I would-” His hands trembled, body shaking with anger and embarrassment. Way to fuckin’ go, Berzatto, you fuckin’ ruin it. That’s all you ever do, Carmen thought bitterly, wiping his hands off on the cloth.

“Carm,” You said softly, your voice a beacon in the raging sea of his mind, pulling him out of his own harsh thoughts.

Carmen turned, a fury flush of pure embarrassment that burnt all down his cheeks to his chest. Eyes soft and wary, hesitant like he was doomed, destined for the worse.

You slide off the counter easily, grabbing the spare towel, bringing it to his eyebrows, wiping the dough off gently. The softness of your touch soothed Carmen, lulling his hammering heart- he didn’t see your own shaking hands, filled with your own adrenaline nerves.

You stood in front of him, eyes on the other, careful and watching- unsure. “I-I love you, too.” Your breath hitched, squeezing the words out in a nervous tumble. Carmen didn’t move, body going rigid, heart stopping entirely. The ringing was back in his ears, clouding his brain so loudly he was sure he heard you wrong.

“I’ve wanted to say it for a while, too, but didn’t…” You shook your head, heat in your own cheeks, eyes casting down to his dough covered hand. “I didn’t know if-if you felt that or if- I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem crazy or obsessive if it was too soon, and-and scare you.”

“No,” Carmen croaked, tongue thick in his own mouth. “No, I-I mean- fuck,” Carmen shook his head, looking to the wall. He needed a second, words jumbled in his mouth, heart racing, so high off the adrenaline he felt like he could combust at any moment.

“I-I was gonna say that too.” Carmen nodded, the quirk in your lips making his heart lurch. “That I love you. I was- yeah, I love you. I-I have for a while.”

“Really?” You whispered, voice tiny and excited, like it was a secret just for the two of you. Maybe it was.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Carmen let out a breathy, shaky laugh. “I love you, and-and I just love you so much it makes my brain hurt sometimes.”

“Me too.” You grin, a hand pressing to his cheek. “I love you.” The phrase you’d repressed for so long, deprived yourself of saying now spilled out of you like a mantra- like that was all you could say now.

Carmen grinned, brain bubbly and light. He let you pull him into a kiss, head tilting down, lips molding over yours so they fit perfectly.

Later over plates of Bologonese, you grinned across the table from Carmen. “If I didn’t tell you I loved you before, I definitely would now.” You moaned, pointing at the plate. “I really was missing out.”

Carmen beamed under your praise, gooey and love drunk off your words- off you. He knew Viola Berzatto, wherever she was, was boasting with pride.

And he knew his Nonna would have loved you too.

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clockwayswrites · 7 months

Text

What yes? I didn't write one.

WC: 808 Masterpost

Jason didn’t see Danny until Tuesday. Which was fine.

It was fine.

He knew how busy Danny’s Monday classes were. But knowing that Danny was busy and waiting out the other’s expected arrival were two very different things. Jason did his best to occupy his time with reviewing the proposition for the new Park Row Library.

His kitchen counter covered in baked goods showed how well the distraction went.

It’s just that if he thought to much about Danny and all of the… surrounding Danny-ness, he started over thinking everything about it. It was better to just not think, which was hard, so baking. Baking always calmed him down. But now Jason had nowhere to set down the tray of cookies that were in hand. Maybe he should invite his siblings over, all of this would be gone by nights end with that swarm of locust.

A knock at his door paused Jason’s attempts to Tetris his counter into order. Thanking his good balance, Jason pulled up his door camera on his phone.

It was only Danny.

Fuck, it was only Danny.

Plate of cookies still in hand, Jason opened the door. “Danny, hi.”

Danny opened his mouth, closed it, and then took a step back. He brought a hand up to cover his grin. “Jason.”

“Danny…,” Jason said back warily.

“I, um,” Danny did his best to muffle a snicker. “,ah, like your apron. Did Dick get you it?”

Jason had to glance down at the apron he had put on that morning. He didn’t really look at them, it’s just whatever was on top of the clean stack. Today though, meeting him was the upside down text of ‘Titty Protector’. It was bright white on the blue apron.

As Jason sighed Danny gave up on trying to hide his laughter and just cackled.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up and see how many cookies you get.”

“No! I’m sorry,” Danny whined, trying to get his laughter back under control. “It’s a great apron. Amazing. Would ogle again. Dick totally bought it for you, didn’t he?”

“Actually it was Stephanie, friend of the family.”

“She must be something,” Danny said. He snagged a cookie as Jason backed up to let him through the door, only to pause with it halfway to his mouth. “Um, prepping for a bake sale?”

“No,” Jason grumbled. He locked his door before joining Danny in staring at the counter covered in baked goods. It really was absurd looking at it with fresh eyes. Even his siblings might have issues with this pile.

“So… ah, why all the food?”

Jason just frowned and clicked his nail against the edge of the plate. He didn’t know how to explain this to Danny.

“Oh Jason,” Danny sighed. He took the plate from Jason’s left hand, snagged his right, and led them over to the couch. The cookies got set down on the coffee table. “Hood talked to you, didn’t it?”

Jason nodded.

“Jason, it’s okay. We can still just be friends, right? I promise I won’t try anything with Hood either, it’s both of you or neither of you—”

Jason jerked his gaze to Danny. “What?”

Danny smile was sad and a little wobbly. “Like I told Hood, I’m not a home wrecker and clearly this is stressing you out. You don’t have to worry about letting me down gently.”

“Danny.”

“I just… I’d still like to be friends?”

“Danny! I’m stress baking because I want to say yes. I mean, we both want to say yes.”

Danny’s mouth snapped closed. His brow furrowed. “Saying yes is stressing you out?”

“Well… you have kept me waiting. You never did ask me, actually, and—”

“Hey Jason?” Danny asked, cutting Jason off.

Jason didn’t know whether to smile or sigh. He settled for both. “Yes Danny?”

“I’d really like to date you and your boyfriend. I think you’re both pretty amazing and I’ve gotten permission from your boyfriend to ask you. So, what do you say, want to date me too?”

“It could be dangerous.”

“Luckily I’ve been getting self defense lessons.”

“I’m a public figure.”

“I’m pretty oblivious to news, or you can keep me a secret like Hood.”

“He’s a crime lord.”

“Let’s be real, he’s a philanthropist with guns.”

“I’ve… only dated Hood. I might be really bad at it.”

“Luckily I already like being around you. And you feed me. Come on Jason, date me?” Danny asked, finally taking a bite of the cookie he had been holding this whole time.

Jason rolled his eyes, but could feel the smile pulling at his lips. “How can I say no to that?”

“That a yes?”

“Yes.”

Danny whooped and leaned in to press a quick kiss to Jason’s lips.

“You taste like cookies,” Jason said. He was grinning now.

“Yeah, and who’s fault is that?”

---

AN: Thank you for the suggestions! I actually had a few lines of this one written so I went with it because I've been slayed. Had some bad new from work on the end of 3 meetings and then came home to a disturbing comment so I'm just a little done today.

BUT! We got something cute! And the boys have the scene where they start dating! Woohoo. Stay delightful and kind, darlings.

I no longer tag, you can instead subscribe to the masterpost.

#dp x dc #dead on main #the fic that i'm not writing #coin flip friday

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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 9 months

Text

☆｡.:*･ﾟ Sweet Nothings ｡.:*･ﾟ☆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x baker!reader

warning: fluff, multiple mentions of cake, mentions of Bucky with children

a/n: Ahhh I had this idea before going to bed and literally stayed up two hours working on it. I finished it this morning, and I've gotta stay I'm proud of my commitment because I usually take at least a month to finish a fanfiction. Hopefully, there's more where this came from. P.S. I'm not a baker, so I'm sorry if I fudged any details. Feedback is always appreciated but please be kind. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated but no reposting without credit <3

word count: 1.6k

summary: Reader is a baker and Bucky gets a cake from her to take to Sam's picnic party on the docks (scene from tfatws).

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

The bell jingled as Bucky entered Sweet Nothings, the bakery you had started from the ground up. He was instantly enveloped by the sweet scent of baked goods from the array of desserts neatly displayed in the glass case by the counter. Underneath the sugar, he smelled the new chai latte you had just added to the menu. It had been an instant hit, totally trumping the one at Starbucks that everyone raved about. Chai had been a nostalgic drink for you and a completely new one for Bucky. He now had an affinity for it, however, and asked for it every time he entered the shop after you made him the first honorary taste tester of the drink. Now, the shop was bustling since it was happy hour.

Soft music played in the background. Bucky recognized the voice of Taylor Swift, one of your favorite artists. She was one of Bucky's favorites now too. You had impeccable taste, and any song you loved became his favorite. The album that was currently playing was Midnights, the one you had told Bucky he was most like. He loved that about you, how you would associate things like albums and songs with him. It made his heart swell, knowing you thought about him in relation to music, which had a special place in your heart.

You were nowhere in sight, so he assumed you were in the back checking on your bread dough. Bucky approached the barrier that led to the backroom for employees and pushed the door open, hoping to surprise you while you were working. Once he entered, he found you bent over your proving drawer, checking on a fluffy batch of bread dough. He tiptoed up to you and grabbed your waist, lifting you off your feet and causing you to let out a yelp of surprise. Bucky spun you around, chuckling at your reaction (what did he expect when he literally attacked you with a bear hug from behind?).

Finally, he set you down on your feet and spun you around to face him. His eyes were crinkled with laugh lines as he took in your disheveled form. Your hair was in a low messy bun with a few strands astray in the front. You donned a cream-colored beret and a blue long-sleeve over which you had on your cheeky apron that read "Kiss the Cook." It was, of course, gifted to you by none other than your doting boyfriend. A light dusting of flour over your entire being gave you an angelic glow. In Bucky's eyes, you looked more heavenly than all of the desserts in your shop combined.

You blew your hair out of your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest before attempting to glare at Bucky. You didn't last long, however, as his sheepish grin caused you to look down, so he wouldn’t catch you smiling.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me,” you admonished him half-heartedly. “Bakers can be dangerous when startled, you know.”

“Sure, doll,” Bucky still had on that cheeky grin. “I don’t know about dangerous, though. Former assassin here, remember?” He pointed at himself with his index fingers as if you didn't already know. "I think I can handle a blow from a rolling pin." He picked up the nearest tool his hand landed on, which, unfortunately for him, was a basting brush, making his joke fall flat. He sheepishly put the brush away as you tried not to laugh.

You gave him a warning look before turning your back to him and smiling wide. You may pretend to be annoyed by his antics, but they truly brought joy to your heart and brightened up your bland days. You loved your job, but you loved your man most of all.

“I’ve got the cake ready for Sam’s. Just gotta put the finishing touches on it. Did you bring the Oreos, baby boy?”

You turned around to find his face in yours. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve found it incredibly infuriating. But with Bucky, it left you blushing to your core.

He wrapped his arms around you and held up the blue plastic box. “Right here, sweetheart.”

It was a generic nickname that every single boyfriend in the history of the world had called his girlfriend at some point. But somehow, it was almost erotic coming from his plush pink lips with that deep timbre. You sometimes wondered if Bucky knew the effect he had on you.

“Thank you,” was all you trusted yourself to say as you took the box of cookies from him and started peeling off the plastic cover. You moved away from him and carefully placed six cookies on the cake, one on each of the iced rosettes on the border.

“Alright, Buck, I think it’s ready for the party. Lemme just get a box for it, and we’ll be on our way.”

Bucky smiled as he watched you tenderly place the plastic casing on the cake as if it was your baby. In a way, it was, along with all of your other creations.

“Alrighty then, doll,” Bucky grabbed the cake in his gloved flesh hand, then put his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your temple. “Thank you so much for making this, baby cakes.”

You turned pink hearing him use your favorite nickname of all time. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you mumbled bashfully, suddenly shy again in the crook of his arm.

“It’s a Sweet Nothing, which means it’s the opposite of nothing. Doll, this cake is quite literally everything to me.”

“Buckyyy,” you playfully swatted him away. Sure, you were proud of your work, but you still got flustered when people complimented you, especially your boyfriend, who took every chance to make you feel like you were the biggest star in his world.

You eased yourself out of his embrace momentarily to hunt down your assistant. “Lemme just tell Nico to take over the closing shift tonight.”

Bucky nodded and waited patiently by the door for you to rejoin him. You returned and looped your arm around his waist to steer him out of your shop.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky drove the both of you from the bakery to the docks in his pickup. You held the cake securely in your lap with your right hand and entwined your left with Bucky's. When you arrived, you let go of his hand and moved to open the door, but Bucky reached over you to close it again. Then he climbed out of the truck and rushed to open your door.

"M'lady," you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't help smiling as he took the cake from you so you could climb out of the car. He shut your door behind you, then took off with the cake balanced precariously in his flesh hand.

"Bucky! Be careful!" Your cries were drowned out by Sam's nephews, who were happily trailing Bucky at the sight of the cake. They tried play-fighting with him, pretending to punch him in the face, to which Bucky pretended to stagger backward from the force of impact.

You sighed and let the corners of your mouth lift as you watched your lover boy, totally enamored by his way with children.

Bucky ran to the nearest picnic table and finally placed the cake down safely. You let out a breath of relief you didn't realize you had been holding in and walked over to him.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky returned to entertaining the kids a little while after everyone had eaten. He stood atop a picnic table, talking to you and Sarah with his metal arm extended out. Sam's nephew and his friend hung off of Bucky's arm. You were trying your hardest to concentrate on what he told you about his days in the Navy, but you couldn't help giggling softly at the sight of him effortlessly holding up two children using only one of his arms.

When you could finally steal a moment alone with him, you handed him a beer and tugged his arm to lead him to the pier's edge. You plopped down and let your feet dangle, the bottoms of your boots grazing the water's surface. After a moment, Bucky crouched down to join you. He scooted closer so his thigh was pressed up against yours. He put his arm around you, and you sighed softly, leaning into his shoulder and staring at the setting sun. Nose pressed against Bucky's shoulder, you inhaled, reveling in the warm scent of freshly-cut pine and the sweet undertones of amber and musky vanilla.

You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulder, suddenly needing to be closer to him than you already were. He seemed to understand and gently twisted to the side, snaking one arm around your lower back and using the other to bring your legs into his lap. You moved in to kiss him tenderly. Your hands were in his hair, his hands were on your hips, and everything felt perfect at that moment. You could still taste the Oreo cake on his breath, and you broke away from the kiss slowly, smiling all the while. Bucky returned your smile warmly as you turned to look at the sunset.

Bucky watched it paint your face the most gorgeous shade of pink and thanked his lucky stars at that moment. Somehow, life had brought you to him. He had never thought of himself as fortunate, but he was ecstatic now that you were in his arms, and he damn sure was never going to let go of this beautiful thing he had with you. He pressed his lips to your forehead and tightened his hold on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 10 days

Text

Imagine some sweet banter with Sanji in the kitchen…

“You want to take this outside?” Patty frowned, slightly bothered by Sanji’s laid back attitude after slowing the line.

“Are you asking me to dance because I kind of had my eye on that blonde at Table 8?” Sanji smirked as he walked down the aisle, slipping the tweezers into his apron.

Thriving on the buzz of the kitchen rush, you manoeuvred around Patty with a tray of desserts in your hand with a spin and landed in stride with Sanji in the aisle.

“It’s adorable that you think you have a chance with her, Sanji.” You teased and glanced back at Patty speaking a little louder so he could hear. “I’m certain that Miss Table 8 prefers men with coloured hair.”

The cooks chuckled and nudged Patty with cheers of encouragement. He may have been a little gruff on the edges but you grew to break down his walls just enough to brighten up his day.

Returning to the task at hand, you moved aside a bowl of frosting and set the tray down as Sanji did the same.

As the two of you fell into the usual groove, he leaned in a little.

“Feeling a tad bit jealous there?” The cook smirked.

You quirked a brow and dipped your finger in the icing bowl that you had experimented with earlier that day (only for Zeff to throw a fit about it).

“Oh Sanji, if only there was something to be jealous of.” You pressed the decadent cream onto the tip of his nose and smiled at your artistic work.

Stepping back with a laugh, Sanji wiped your attack off and admit his defeat. He needed to be careful otherwise his heart would physically jump into his eyes.

Your eyes caught the beautifully constructed fish on the plate and pat his shoulder. “Zeff’s going to throw you into the East Blue if he sees that.” You warned.

Sanji pressed his hands over his heart, his brows knit together curiously. “Are you offering to resuscitate me?��

You held your gaze but as the weight of his words settled into your mind, your eyes briefly flickered to his lips. If you kissed him, you’d need resuscitation immediately after.

Shaking your head at his antics, you smiled and made your way back to your station. Perhaps you could calm your racing heart when there was a sea of people blocking the blonde from your view.

It was better not to reply and let him win this playful round.

Despite being in a kitchen, there was something different brewing between the two of you.

Proud of himself when you folded, Sanji began his return to his chopping boards when the kitchen doors opened and Zeff called him back almost immediately. Upon returning to the table, Sanji explained his pride and joy of the evening.

His True Bluefin Sauté.

“The day the Baratie serves something like that is the day hell freezes over.” Zeff snapped and the clatter of plates told you that he had binned the dish.

Oh boy… You took in a deep breath while trying not to be so distracted by the duo. Twenty seconds of background shouting later, your timer went off and you swapped pastry trays filling the kitchen with the sweet smell of sticky date pudding.

Zeff snapped his fingers at you as you were bringing the latest delicacy over. “Change aprons, you’re my ‘second’ from now on.”

You placed the tray down and called for a server to take the desserts to their respected tables before shaking your head at the owner of the Baratie.

“Zeff, I can’t. I mean, I could but I’m working on the fruit pies. They’re delicate and need-”

“I know, they need your undivided attention. Patty can keep an eye on them. I want you overseeing this kitchen now. No more dual sous-chefs. Seems like the list of people I can trust is growing thinner by the day.” Zeff instructed and looked at Sanji.

“You’re off the line. Now get out there and wait the tables. Go!”

Shoulders tense, Sanji tugged off his apron and threw it on the table. From the way you saw his jaw clench, you knew he was holding back some unsavoury comments. Once the furious cook had changed and left the kitchen, Zeff turned to where you had been watching Sanji and picked up on the sadness in your eyes.

“And you - don’t even think about letting that Little Eggplant pick up so much as a fork in here. Understood?”

You had almost not replied if the man hadn’t snapped his fingers. Focusing back, you realised he was staring at you with a hardened expression

“Yes, chef.” You nodded half-heartedly.

Zeff grunted and then disappeared to another part of the restaurant.

Patty walked by to set a new dish down on the table in front of you and handed you a fresh apron. He also noted the way your posture sank with Sanji’s absence.

“Come on, this kitchen isn’t going to run itself.” He said kindly. "You can see him later."

Masterlist here (for more One Piece)

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rustedhearts · 24 days

Text

cowboy blues (gator tillman x fem!reader)

summary: you do your best to make sure gator has a perfect birthday—even against the wishes of his dead father.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ rolly's roller wheels blurb commissions!

tags: cowboy!gator (no cops here!), slight angst, fluff, smut (oral f receiving).

for @softagardenblooms! i hope you love this as much as i love you for always being so kind and sweet. yeehaw! ♡

wc: 1,248

the tillman ranch.

“Days off” didn’t exist on the Tillman Ranch. Never have, never will. Gator came to know that well when he asked his father to spend his 13th birthday at the shooting range with his friends instead of cleaning stalls. Roy’s adamant refusal (and insistence on a full day’s work even on the boy‘s big 13) was all Gator needed to know that he’d never be free of the ranch.

Not even on his birthday.

So, when his father died, it didn’t even occur to Gator that he no longer had to uphold the rule. He no longer had to work holidays or birthdays, no longer had to “man up” when all he needed was a lie down. But some part of him felt like Roy would still know. Like his spirit would come and kick him in the ass out on the field.

Like when Gator made it to Hell, Roy would be waiting with a special kind of torment.

“The ranch won’t go to shit if you take one day off,” you tried to insist. “C’mon, you deserve a nice birthday. A half day!”

But Gator just shook his head, lips latched around the mouth of a beer bottle. It popped free with a noisy swallow.

“No can do, sugar. Already got the guys workin’ overtime.”

And you huffed and pouted about it, upset that you couldn’t properly shower your man with love on his special day. But no one seemed more torn up than the birthday boy himself.

He trudged to work that day, but gritted his teeth and “took it like a man.” All morning as he brushed out the stalls, he heard his father’s voice in his head. Shaming him for getting sentimental, scolding him for finding too much importance in himself. Vanity’s a sin, son. God don’t look too kindly on men who think too much of themselves.

Ironic. Even Gator could scoff at that now. Though he fought the urge, every fiber of his being ached to be with you today. Just you, just him, tangled together mouth-to-mouth. He was a simple man, and sex was the perfect birthday gift.

But Gator still needed to outgrow his father’s shadow looming over him.

But it would be a cold day in hell before you allowed your man to spend the day in a hot stable shoveling shit rather than somewhere more enjoyable.

He took his father’s death pretty hard, and now he struggled to find joy where he used to. He called it the cowboy blues, but you knew better. And you’d do your damndest to prove that you could bring the joy back.

Starting with a perfect birthday.

You instructed a young rider to hurry into the stables with an emergency. Some frantic stuttering, some incoherent rambling and panting. Gator would assume the worst: that you were somewhere hurt and needed him. He always thought you needed him, and you let him believe it.

It worked out in your favor this time, because when he came running into the house—boots clomping in a run, work gloves on and trucker hat muddy—he found you unharmed in the kitchen.

Unharmed and half naked. Well, entirely naked save the flimsy ruffled apron tied around your waist.

He scuffled to a stop in the doorway, pinkness flooding to his cheeks.

“H-honey?” He swallowed. “What’re you doin’?”

You shrugged, playing with the strings of the apron. “Just bakin’ my man a birthday cake. You want a taste, hon?”

Gator’s eyes dragged over your body, inhaling deeply. He placed his gloved hands on his hips, a glazed look glinting in his eye.

“Oh…sugar, you know I gotta—“

“Gotta what? It’s your birthday, Gator. You don’t gotta do nothin’ you don’t want to.”

His eyes flashed to yours, brief hesitance brewing in his brows. He brought his lip between his teeth and dropped his hands. His gaze slowly slid downward again, head tipping to get a peek under the lacy hem of your apron.

"That so?" he mumbled.

"Mhm."

"Since s' my birthday...does that mean I get whatever I do want?"

You tugged the first knot of the apron strings free, keeping your eyes narrowed salaciously on his. "Depends. What is it you want, Gator?"

Gator plucked the gloves on his hands by the fingertips until they slipped free, landing with a smack on the kitchen tile. His hat followed, flung aside to let his hair loose. He took a large stride forward, dirtied boots clunking. All that ranch work started to pay off on his firm biceps and wide shoulders—you shuddered in anticipation of the first touch from those rough, callused hands.

They slid over your hips first, gentle and coaxing until you pressed your palms against his chest. They roamed lower, sweeping over the swell of your ass until they found the fat of it, squeezing both globes eagerly. Your lips parted with a sharp gasp, quickly swallowed by Gator's mouth slanted over yours.

"Want..." Gator could barely separate himself from your lips long enough to speak, words squished and smushed between tongue and flesh. "You...mm...on...table."

Despite the instruction, he guided you backward and lifted the small inch to the tabletop. Once seated on the cool surface, he broke from your mouth to nudge your shoulders. You lowered back, splaying flat. Gator flipped the hem of the apron over your stomach and smoothed his hands over your inner thighs, using his explorative and needy touch to spread your legs.

One finger swept through the slickness that awaited him, a chuckle filling the kitchen at your immediate squirming.

"This is all a man needs, sugar. His wife spread open on the table...all for him."

When all you could do was gasp and writhe, coached to excitement by his prodding and massaging touch, Gator's eyes flashed to yours again with a cocky grin.

"Really know how to spoil me, darlin'."

You heard the thump of his knees on the kitchen floor before you felt the heat of his mouth, attaching itself to your core and forming a suction that took the light out of the room. His fingers gripped at the fat of your thighs with greed, disrupting blood flow and bringing a soreness that would last days. But the pleasure lapping and nipping between your thighs was enough to soothe it all away.

You worried you weren't doing enough—it was his birthday, after all. Right now, this seemed entirely about you.

But through the blurred daze of pleasure, you took a peek at the man between your legs—gripping onto flesh for dear life, moaning and groaning between the loll of his tongue and pull of his mouth—and knew he was just as delirious with delight.

Gator stood to his feet with a glistening chin and ridiculously tight tacticals, which he rubbed at with a groan as he positioned himself between your trembling knees.

"Thank you, sugar," he sighed, thickened with relief. He smoothed the gelled hair back from his eyes and let his eyes roam over you again.

"You're...welcome," you breathed, still flushed and unsteady.

The tinkle of his belt buckle knocked against the table, zipper snicking with its quick release.

"Ready to spoil me some more?"

Your grin was nearly giddy. "Whatever you want, birthday boy."

It took another two hours to free yourself from the kitchen long enough to show him the real present: a sparkling new truck parked on the lawn.

He made good use of that spacious truck bed, and decided maybe birthdays were better spent off the ranch.

#rolly!#gator tillman #gator tillman fic #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman blurb #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman smut #rolly’s roller wheels!

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

Note

Pleeeeeease write a childhood friends to lovers for Soap and a civvy!reader??? Maybe add a dash of domestic fluff? 💕 I love your writing more than anything 😫

—From Ten To Twenty & Beyond

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You've known him ever since the incident on the playground, and now you can't help but imagine that same boy as you watch him make supper with flour in his hair.] ❞

You stifle your laugh on your hand, leaning back into the dining room chair as the Scot ahead of you swears up a storm.

“Hell’s fuckin’ bells!” He snaps, waving a hand over his mohawk as the spray of flour wafts on the airways. Your body makes a play to move forward to help—to salvage a new recipe that Johnny was trying to make for you. You could leave the cooking to him…but baking? No, no you think not.

Before you can stand fully, a wagging finger is leveled in front of your face, and a clicking tongue as a kiss is pressed into your forehead.

“Not a chance, Dearie. You get that perfect arse back into the chair.”

You laugh brightly at the hands on the side of your arms that place you back down like a doll. “Johnny, come on, let me help.”

Blue eyes narrow in hidden stubbornness.

“No way—I said I’d make you something, so that’s what I’m doin'. You sit there and watch,” he smirks. “I know how hard it is to not jump my bones, Little Lady, but I swear tonight I’m all yours—”

You smack the back of your hand into his pec, just above the slack form of the white apron you’d gotten him as a joke.

“Alright, you can leave now,” your voice meets his ears as he smirks, leaning down to press his lips on top of yours as you grumble. It wasn’t hard to return the kiss, an easy peck before he left back to the counter with flour still stuck into his dark strands.

You watch after as you hear his deep chuckles, rubbing at his scalp before sighing as he looks at the dough in one of his mother’s bowls. It had been more than a decade since you’d met him—that fateful day on the playground where he had run headlong into you by the swing set. A crash of skulls and a babbling of childish cries.

His hand had shown up right in front of yours moments later, pulling you up and wiping off your scraped palms even when he was still swaying on his feet. Those blue eyes.

Now, years later—a little cottage house in the middle of nowhere. A bright living room and a crackling fireplace. A kitchen filled with laughter and flour pooling to the floor.

It was the memories that lived in the wood and the stone; in the skin you two wore. And tonight, this was a celebration of more than ten years—a hope to more than twenty, thirty; as many as this world would give you. To beyond life and death, and everything in between.

You smile brightly, eyes a bit glassy as you see Johnny turn around with a fork in his hands.

“Now, if I were to ask how to properly—” he halts at the look in your eyes, concern snapping over his once smirking face. “...Dearie?”

You shake your head, grinning before you wave a hand. “I’m alright.”

Johnny puts down all of his things and begins walking over, but you beat him to it. You meet him halfway there and dig your arms around his waist, head pushing itself into his neck. Beneath his skin, he grunts and does the same—large hands hesitantly slipping around your shoulders as his biceps keep you anchored.

“What’s this about, then,” he asks, eyes looking down at you as your form squeezes him tightly. “Not that I’m complaining, see.”

You kiss his pulse, feeling his skin go a bit heated as he chuckles; eyes soft.

“Just let me hold you,” you peek, only to find him already watching you. Those same eyes close to yours. Foreheads connect and you giggle. “Flour and all.”

“Hm,” Johnny hums, breathing you down. “...Don’t need much convincing.”

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