#maybe i should just give in and make this a proper fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettyboykatsuki · 13 days

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I can just imagine fujo neet reader practicing different sex position with rin to make sure she gets the proportions right.

✮ tags ; fem!reader, sexual tension, rin's pov, RIN IS KIND OF MEAN TO HER BUT HE WANTS HER SO BAD FDKJJS, reader is a fujoshi and bl mangaka, pre-relationship, they work together, part of a ficverse i haven't written yet Sorry, ONE JOKE ABOUT RIN WANTING TO OFF HIMSELF, SUPER SUGGESTIVE LOL 18+

✮ wc ; 3.5k (WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!)

✮ a/n ; i had to do this for my sanity. i promise i will write them a proper fic with them i promise.

You never text Rin.

Not really. Not first at least. It's a new... friendship. Kind of. Sort of. Most of your communication thus far has been through meetings and random in-person chance encounters. Outside of that, Rin will call you since it's faster. If you do "text", it's mostly through twitter DM's.

There's a discord server your fans run, and you pop in there often enough. He's had the invitation extended but declined unilaterally, since he'd rather not see himself fucking Isagi anymore than he already has in his short, miserable career.

It surprised him this morning, seeing your message flash across the top of his screen. Asking, specifically, for him to come over and help you with something related to the new manga you were writing. He had it in his right mind to decline, but after learning it wasn't a doujin for him, he semi-reluctantly agreed.

Rin doesn't know when exactly your relationship to him grew this...comfortable. Inviting him over to your house, begging him for favors, not wincing every time he talks to you. Rin isn't an extrovert but compared to you he's a social butterfly. And your aversion to people in general, Rin thought, would prevent you from doing anything more than squeak at him forever just like you did when he met you.

(Though nothing in his life has been normal since your arrival in it. He's not sure why you would remain unchanged when he certainly hasn't.)

He doesn't know what to feel when you ask him for a favor, and he doesn't know what force of nature compels him to go. If it's morbid curiosity or annoyance or something else even worse.

It was compelling enough to take the train all the way out to Machida - an hour long trip from his own place. His manager hounded him to take you something, so he has a bag of ginseng energy drinks and snacks with him as a gift. He took the bus with his mask on, and then walked all the way to your building.

Your apartment is tucked somewhere classically suburban - attached at the far end of a residential street and behind concrete support beams for a highway just overhead. Cherry blossom trees and other shades of white flowers grow around it in thick patches, making the entrance hard to find. Rin would've had trouble if you didn’t give him details on exactly where to go.

It's an older building, stone walls worn and grass-stained from age. At the gate are groups of old people talking amongst each other as they sort through recycling and trash. All visor hats and sunspots, they fawn over Rin for a long while before he goes in and interrogates him with questions. None of them know him, which is relieving. It quickly graduates to them asking who he's there to visit, if he has a girlfriend or not.

All of them ooh and aah when he mentions your name, say something about being relieved she's found a man so handsome and that Rin should marry you because even though you're a little strange you're a good girl. Rin does not have the time nor energy to correct them - only nods and bows his head and leaves.

On the elevator ride up to your floor, he can't help but think repeatedly that this isn't the kind of place he'd expect you to live. He thought it'd be out in the middle of nowhere, maybe in a damp and broken building.

But this is a nice place with nice people, vibrant and colorful. Totally opposite from what he considers your personality.

Suitable or not, Rin manages to make it to your floor without a hitch.

He finds you, then, as he'd expect. Down a long hall, behind an unassuming white door. When you open it, you're a mess. Your hair completely unkempt, face greasy, a wild look in your eyes and complete surprise in your expression as if you didn't invite him over. You do, however, manage to invite him in without stuttering or stumbling over your words foolishly like you did the first time you spoke to him.

Another surprise is how... clean your living room is. It's lived in but he was expecting more mess in there. Your bedroom is in a similar state, undoubtedly messy but not terrible. Your NEET tendencies finally end up showing when you drag Rin into your office where you draw your manga.

It's not dirty but it's cluttered. There's a pull out sofa on one wall, with a blanket and pillow littered about and pages upon pages of paper sheets with scrapped panels about the floor. One wall has a bunch of post-its with several notes in both English and Japanese, and another has tacked up pieces of art. Both yours and other peoples. He chooses to ignore the ones of him and Isagi, The walls themselves are cream colored and uninteresting and the wood floors are slippery. At the far end of the room is a spread of desks, a PC set-up and a professional looking tablet among various art supplies in stacked boxes.

It's this room you bring Rin into without explaining yourself at all, mumbling and muttering as you give him a place to sit and go back to your work for fifteen silent minutes.

When you're finally finished doing whatever the fuck you were doing, you turn yourself back towards Rin. Bluelight glasses fall down the bridge of your nose as you swivel around in your chair - your sweatpants half pulled up your leg with the other pulled down. You're wearing fuzzy socks with Naruto characters on them.

You stare at him, pulling your glasses off and rubbing your eyes - dark circles under them.

"Uhm," Your voice is clipped and thick with exhaustion. "You came."

Rin deadpans. "You asked me to come."

"I thought you'd say no."

He did too. He doesn't respond back. You chew your lips, already anxious and Rin resists the urge to say something about it.

"Okay. Uhm. Please don't get mad," You start with and then explain, looking away. Your hands pull your sleeves over your palms. "So. Like. For my new series, I'm finally getting to the sex scene but I've never drawn characters with an intense height difference like this. And I need... new reference photos.... and uhm," You rub your feet together on your chair where you sit "Well our height differences and size is the exact one my characters have. So."

Rin stares at you. "So?"

"SoIwaswonderingifyou'dtakereferenceimagesforsexpositionswithme,"

Rin feels his jaw lock. "Slower."

You frown and look away, tucking your chin with embarrassment. "I was uhm, like, wondering if you'd take... take the uhm, sex position reference photos with me, please."

"What?"

You clasp your hands together, immediately prostrating yourself by throwing yourself down the ground. He flinches back, wondering if you're gonna hold onto his leg next.

"Please, please help me. You're the exact height of my seme and you uhm have similar builds and he's doing the most of the legwork. The poses are a little bit hard but I want them to look good or Minami-san will eat me and I'm scared of her, please help me."

"Who is Minami-san?"

You sniffle, on the verge of tears just thinking about it. "My editor. She used to be my fan. She's scary. Please, Rin-kun, please."

"What the hell did you do before?"

You frown at him, big wet puppy-dog eyes.

"It was hard. Sometimes I'd pose with my big stuffed animals and make up the proportions. Oh and usually watched porn and stuff. Sometimes I'd get lucky with stockphotos. But I don’t get the angle exactly right unless I have good references."

Rin wonders if anything you have ever said has processed in your mind before saying it. He doubts it for some reason.

"So," Rin pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes the image of you humping your stuffed animals out of his head. "You're asking me to.. pose with you?"

You nod and chew your lip. "Please, I promise I'd never ask you for this if I wasn't s-scared of Minami-san! Please?"

"I should make you pay me for this," He sneers. You flinch back and close your eyes.

"I'm sorry." You whine wetly, but then open your eyes again anyway. "Please help me."

Rin doesn't know why he helps you. Maybe you're just too pathetic for him to ignore. Maybe he's a masochist. Maybe inhaling the same air as Bachira last week turned him stupid.

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Fine."

If Rin didn't believe you before when you told him you make your own references, he'd definitely believe you after you take him to your bedroom.

Your bed is in the center of your room, instead of being pushed against a wall. Large stuffed animals laid in one corner. On both sides of the room, are makeshift digital camera stands and remote-controlled lighting among another remote for said cameras. There's about 4-6 angles from what you explained to Rin, and a few adjustable lights. It's an elaborate set-up and takes the kind of dedication Rin can only imagine a hardcore fujoshi freak like yourself thinking up.

All of this to mostly draw porn of him and his rival. He tries not to think about it too hard because he thinks it's going to give him an aneurysm. Rin sits at the edge of your bed as you adjust each of the cameras individually.

"What do you do if it's not on a bed?"

You flinch like you aren't expecting him to talk. "Uhm. I either simulate as best I can o-or move my things and bed around. It's why I moved my desk to my office."

Rin stares at you. "You take it seriously."

You nod meekly. "Producing high-quality doujin is what made me money, so I have to work hard. Being poor is tough."

If Rin didn't find you so unbearable he might find that awe-inspiring in his own fucked up way.

"Okay. Everything is set-up. Now for the poses," You say, suddenly sparking back to life. Rin sits and watches. "They're having sex on a public beach so the bed and the way the seme sort of sinks into the sand will be good... I think the bridge one is the one we'll do first."

"The bridge?"

You nod, talking in short sentences. But Rin can tell this is where you're comfortable, doing things for this... hobby. Your usual constant embarrassment and shame seem to disappear when it comes to it. It's fascinating like a car crash. "Uhm. You have to stand on your knees and then, I'll lay on my back and arch my back up to meet your... y'know. It'll emphasize the height difference."

Rin stares at you agape. You take the remote control for your cameras in your hands and look at him expectantly.

Rin doesn't know whats wrong with him. Why the hell did he agree to this?

"Do you want me to take my jacket off?"

You nod, surprised. He shrugs the thing off of his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor.

Rin, per your instruction, gets into the position in the middle of the bed. He stands on his knees waiting for you. You join him a minute after, squinting at your phone screen beforehand. He isn't sure what he's expecting as a result of your ask, but he sure is shocked when he finds you placing your feet flat on the bed next to his knees and pushing yourself up for your crotch to meet his.

He knows that’s what you said but your shamelessness proves to be… shocking.

He tries not to let it show. His jaw ticks. His face feels warm but his expression remains neutral all the same. You shift and adjust and don't seem concerned at all - like it doesn't occur to you that this is in any way socially unacceptable. Or it's unfathomable Rin would take advantage of this. That this is weird, or could be interpreted in less than innocent ways. Rin knows you're so out of touch that it probably isn't. That this is, to you, just considered a favor which is partially why he even agrees.

But you're mid-brushing up against his bulge. The angle of your back forms a triangle, your arms laid flat at your sides as you squirm and push. And your expression shifts, deep in thought.

"Uhm, like, would you mind p-putting your hands on my hips? Kind of squeezing tight like it's," You flush this time, but Rin harbors doubt it's about him. "Like it feels good I guess? Like hard, and stuff so you can see the indent."

He's so astonished, he does it on autopilot. Neutral and even. He lets his hands grab your hips and holds tight just as you ask. Your long, loose sweatshirt falls down revealing the soft skin of your tummy. He can see the tops of your underwear, the thin cotton kind that come in 6-packs with a single bow in the middle in a grey color.

You don't seem to care about it. Rin shouldn't either, but his body does seem to care. His brain does. Something is happening in his gut. Anger maybe. Some cheap, frustrated desire to make fun of you.

Instead the words he's been wanting to ask since you proposed this tumble out of his mouth. He stares at you.

"Is this the first time someone's done this with you?"

You jump with a start, but remain in position. You take the pictures first, six clicks in a row before answering.

"H-huh? Why-why are you asking that?"

He doesn't know. Really. And he knows how it sounds. Rin doesn't say anything and you fold under the immense pressure of his gaze.

"S-stop staring," You say, and take a few more pictures, lowering your back just a little but still staying up right. "And no. No one tall enough or with the right physique."

There is another gnawing question, another burning curiosity. He makes his voice as even and unaffected and apathetic as he can. As mean as possible.

"Have you ever even had sex?"

Your eyes blow wide, but you seem to fall for the persona of apathy, curious boredom and cruelty. Worse, you seem a little used to it. You squirm this time and Rin holds you firmly in place. Your voice is small.

"Uhm, like, once I guess. I-it was with a guy, I didn't really date him but he seemed interested in me and I didn't think I'd ever have the opportunity again s-so I did it and I didn't uhm, it wasn't very good or anything." You reply, and he can feel your toes curl in your socks next to him and his brain feels like it'll melt from out of his ears. "Sorry, I don't-don't think you care about that, just uhm, felt like I should explain."

"Yeah," Rin feels dizzy. "Do you need another pose?"

You blink and then nod. "Yeah! Another one kind of like this, but with the legs like uhm, on your chest and my feet closer to your head. With you leaned back a little. Does that make sense? The butterfly position, I think."

Rin swallows something at the back of throat.

He nods, pulling you into position so easily he can heard you gasp. Your legs straighten against his clothed chest, and your sweatshirt falls far enough to let him see your bra. A fabric sports kind, a little worn - just the logo visible. He doesn't say anything about it, your feet resting near his neck. You make a little soft noise.

"This feels a little difficult to be in. Poor uke. Sorry if this one is kind of weird, but can you put your hands, I dunno, on my ass, I guess? I know that's probably too much but I think it'll be a good detail, so please? I'll pay you"

Rin stares at you, teeth gritting so hard he feels the back of his skull throb. "Fine."

Rin, per your request, puts his hands on your ass. It's easy enough, and he doesn't hold too tight. But it's too intimate, too stupidly fucking intimate, and he can feel you. You're hardly paying attention, caught up in your own head with whatever else. Rin is paying too much attention. Like how your sweatpants aren't thick enough to cover the outline of your frumpy cotton panties and how your soft all over. He's going to kill someone. Maybe himself.

Six more clicks and a little noise of satisfaction.

"Okay!!! I think these will turn out so great, and I can use them later too. Just one more. I have a lot of refs for this position, but uhm - I want to see if I can get the proportions correct, so if you'd please lay down," You tell him with such genuine excitement he can't find it in himself to say anything horribly cruel. "I'll be doing most of the work this time. I just-just need to see how uke will compare..."

You mutter something to yourself as Rin lets you down and lays himself down on your bed. You sit next to him for a long while, squinting at your phone. Rin stares at you as you. Wonders if he's gone completely insane, and tries to ignore the doom of the impending hard-on cozying itself in his pants.

Unceremoniously, you find yourself perching over Rin's lap. Not bothering to give him any pretense, it's the one thing about today that's really getting him.

"Oh, I need my hands for this," You give him the remote and stare down at him wide-eyed, over his lap. This has to be hell. "Could you take the photos this time?"

He closes his eyes and counts to ten and wonders if a concussion has made him insane. "Hm."

You brighten and Rin feels his chest go tight. "Thanks!"

Rin just nods, his mouth drying as you start to move and pose. A picture with your hands next to his head, and anothe r where you're sat up - your hands at your sides. Rin obediently takes pictures when you ask, his entire body tensing every single time you move.

"Okay, last one," You say. This time, you put your hands on his chest. Just the one. You must have something specific in your head that you're wanting to recreate. You bend down close, looking down at him as you do - your other hand clenched.

Rin looks up at you. He should not be thinking about you in any way. He's looking at the way your lips curve and plump and at your bare skin and your dark circles and your stupid licensed anime hoodie. He just gapes at you in confusion and mystique. He's around so many weirdos. It's not like there's anything special about you. You’re just another freak who makes porn of him. Plenty of people do that.

A loser and an idiot with no sense of self-preservation. There's nothing special about this, but Rin hasn’t been able to convince himself of that.

You stare down at him.

"Take a picture?"

Rin looks at you. Studies your expression. You seem like you're thinking. It's the only oppurtunity he has to pry.

"Did you want to ask something?" He says first. “You’re not hard to read.”

You startle, then nod. Your hand is on his chest. It's warm, and smaller than his.

"Oh, I-I guess I was wondering about what you asked me earlier. And uhm, like, I don't know. If you ever did anything. Your relationships aren't in the media and fans speculate but," You fall flat on your words. "I guess I was just curious."

Rin hates this question. It's why he never answers it. Why he hates being called a hearthrob, always too shallow and too personal for his taste.

"Nothing long term or serious. It was most for physical relief." Rin says, almost on autopilot. “Not that’d you know what that’s like.”

Your eyes widen. Rin feels his hands twitch, watching your expression finally grown conscious of him. Lust spreads through you like honey and Rin can see it in how you look. You squirm in his lap. He's not usually so aggressive, not usually one to care about sex in any important way. Not one to brag about something so unbelievably inane and trivial.

But it's bothering him, just how much he's fighting the urge to pin you down and fuck you. You of all people. It's not like him. Rough sex is whatever, but it's bothering him how little any of it seems to register in your head anymore like it once did. You could barely breathe the first time you met.

He doesn't know why he cares that you don’t anymore. He doesn’t give a shit about anything related to you

But the thought nothing seems to bother you anymore bothers him.

"Oh... I see. That's uhm, interesting. I b-bet you have a lot more experience than me. Maybe it'd be a good thing to keep you around for that kind of refernce too," You joke.

Rin lets his hand slip up to your hips without asking, not bothering to hide it anymore. His head feels with nothing but stupid useless thoughts. Thoughts of fucking you in your old, worn clothes and stained shirts and comfortable cotton underwear. Thoughts of your hands clutching at his shoulder all weepy with desire and need and stupidity - your big wide eyes bleary and sensitive. It's cruel how relentlessly he thinks about taking advantage of all your differences. Of how unathletic and awkward and unused to everything you are.

It's horrible just how much he's staving off his own arousal about it. Maybe you're strange habits are infecting him, making him strange too strange. All Rin can think about uselessly is how easily he could put you in your place. Fix you in some strange way. You’d be his to fix and you’d cry and weep and want to run away. Rin wouldn’t let you, keep you pinned and caged like an animal.

His throat feels tight. What is fucking wrong with him today?

Is he that pent up? He stares at you, and gets some passing feeling that there is more to it than that. He closes his eyes.

"Whatever," He says, letting go. You don't seem to notice it again, how thick his voice is getting "Are you almost done?"

You nod and smile. "Yes. Thank you."

Rin feels his heart tug and seethes. “You're welcome."

#return to sender #writing tag #fujoverse #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #bllk x reader #bluelock x reader #THIS IS KIND OF COOKING ME TO DEATRH IM?

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queers-gambit · 4 months

Text

Opening Night and Open Hearts

prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 9.8k+

note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace

warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!

⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers

not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

God's Plan part two: Two to Tango

Neon Sticky Notes

"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"

"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.

"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"

"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"

"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."

You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"

"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."

"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"

"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"

"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."

You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."

This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."

"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."

"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."

"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."

Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"

"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."

He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."

"But isn't that what Pete's for?"

"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."

Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."

"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."

Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.

"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"

"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.

"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.

"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."

"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.

"Hey, Richie."

"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"

"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"

"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."

"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,

"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."

"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"

"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."

"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.

Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!

Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.

"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."

"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"

"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."

"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.

You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."

Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"

"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."

Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."

"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"

"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."

"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.

"On it," he winked, parting from your side.

Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"

"Yo."

"Peach is on 17 with Pete."

"Okay."

"Go say hi."

"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.

"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.

"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.

"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."

"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."

"What? I'm saying - "

"I'll get there when I can get there!"

"I'm saying!"

"What?" Carmy barked.

"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"

"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.

You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.

"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.

"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"

He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.

"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."

"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.

"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."

"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.

"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.

"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."

"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."

"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."

"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.

He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."

"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"

"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.

"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"

"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"

"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."

"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"

"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."

Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."

"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"

"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."

You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."

Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"

"Hmm? What're you - ?"

"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.

When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."

"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.

"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.

"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"

"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."

"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.

"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.

"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.

"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.

"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."

"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.

You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"

"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."

"Pete? What didn't you mean?"

"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."

"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."

"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"

"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."

"For what?"

"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.

You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."

"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."

"Take all the time you need," you agreed.

"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"

You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."

Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.

"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.

Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."

"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.

"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"

"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."

"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.

"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."

"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."

"What?"

"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."

"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"

"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "

"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.

"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.

"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.

"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."

"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."

But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.

When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.

"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."

You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.

Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.

Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."

You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."

"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"

You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"

You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."

"Peaches, hey, what's - "

But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."

"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"

"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"

"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.

"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."

"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"

"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.

"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.

"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "

You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.

"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."

You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.

The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.

"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.

"No time!"

"Wait! She went with her friend!"

Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"

"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"

"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."

"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."

"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "

"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.

"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.

"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.

"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"

"What?" Syd blinked in shock.

"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."

"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.

"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."

"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.

"How do you know?" Neil asked.

"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."

"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.

"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"

"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.

"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.

"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"

"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."

Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.

The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.

Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.

Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.

He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.

The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.

The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.

He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."

"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"

"Yeah? The only thing?"

"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "

"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "

"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."

"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You sure?"

"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.

"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."

"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.

"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.

Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.

"Baby - "

"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."

He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.

"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."

"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."

"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."

"Peach - "

"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."

Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."

"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.

"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."

"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."

"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"

"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."

"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"

You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"

"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.

"Do you really think you're a psycho?"

He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."

You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"

"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."

"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."

"I don't deserve anymore time - "

"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."

He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."

"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."

"Anything, Peach."

"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."

He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."

"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."

With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.

The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.

"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."

"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."

Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"

"Of course, I do."

So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.

And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.

You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"

You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."

"And what did you do?"

You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."

"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."

"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"

"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."

You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"

He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."

"What changed?"

"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."

Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.

"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"

"Carmen."

He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.

With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"

"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."

"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"

He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."

"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."

"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"

You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."

You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.

"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.

There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.

"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"

You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.

"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"

"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.

"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."

"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."

"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."

"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.

"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.

"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"

"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.

"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"

"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"

"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

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cherryredstars · 8 months

Note

idc how good dom!miguel fics are, that man is a whole ass sub.

anyhooooooos, may i request rich sub!miguel wanting reader to step on him (literally) with the new red-bottoms he bought her before begging to munch on her. you can decide if reader grants him his request or not. maybe the heels weren’t enough of an apology for his workaholic self 👀

Pairing: Sub!Miguel x Femdom!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut with Some Plot, Degradation, Miguel Being Stepped On, Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (Fem. Receiving), Some Begging, Spit Play, Self-Edging, Face Sitting

Summary: Miguel is going to have to do more than give you gifts if he wants your forgiveness.

A/N: The way I SCREAMED when I read this request :))

Word Count: 2.1K (Barley Edited)

They were pretty, sure.

Iconic shiny black heels with rich red bottoms. They definitely cost a pretty penny, which Miguel had plenty of. He constantly had expensive gifts to spoil you with. Designer purses and dresses and thousand dollar shoes that only ever got worn a handful of times. He even bought you the shiny new penthouse that you sit in now, just watching him.

You sat on your expensive leather couch, another gift from your lovely boyfriend, boredly sipping from your wine glass as Miguel rests on his knees before you. His hold on your legs is gentle as he slips the new shoes onto your feet. The look on his face is one of pure devotion and admiration as he looks up at you. He kisses your ankle each time he puts on a shoe, mumbling his love and apologizes against your skin. The sight is cute, if not entirely pathetic.

He had come through your front door, a pretty bouquet of flowers in his hand with the recognizable Louboutin shopping bag clutched in the other. It was an apology for leaving your date early last week because he got called into HQ at the last minute. To say you were less than impressed was an understatement. Clearly the man didn’t know what a proper apology was. Good thing you’re always willing to teach him.

“Do you like them, mi vida?” Miguel mumbled against the skin of your calf. He peppered soft kisses to your skin, eyes practically looking up at you in a crave for approval.

All you did was let out a dismissive hum around the rim of your glass, “I would hardly call it an apology.”

The glass covered your pleased smirk as a look of desperation crossed Miguel’s face. He wanted to make it up to you, to make you happy. Happy with him. He needed you to be happy with him. His lips started to trail higher up your leg, hand coming up to push your silk slip higher up so he can kiss your thighs. He kissed and licked the skin, a pleading look in his eyes, “Please, please let me make it up to you.”

The words were a whisper and his position on your legs and his undertone wasn't lost on you. He said it in a tone he knew you liked. That pathetic whine that dripped with a crazed need. The voice you always cooed at and showered him in praise for.

“And ruin my leather couch? No, thanks.” You scoffed, bending your leg and pushing your heel into Miguel’s chest. With just enough power, you pushed him away from you, causing him to fall on his elbows on the floor.

You slowly got off the couch, standing over Miguel’s form as you downed the rest of your remaining wine. You lifted your foot again and placed it on his chest to keep him down. The heel dug into his chest and he grabbed your calf as you slightly grind your foot into it. Miguel looks up at you with dazed eyes, an expression of pure arousal flushing his face. You crouch down and your free hand clutches the hair at the back of his neck tightly. The tiniest whimper leaves Miguel’s mouth as you jerk his head forward so his ear is next to your mouth.

“You should see yourself, a pathetic excuse of a man begging for forgiveness. The leader of an elite society of heroes turned into a beggar at my feet. What a joke.” The words were a sarcastic chuckle that made Miguel moan slightly. God it was so hot when you looked down at him like this.

You let go of his hair, standing up again. You looked down at him for another minute before scoffing and turning away. Your quick dismissal of him makes Miguel gasp and scramble to get back onto his feet. He was a stumbling fool, trying to pick himself up off the ground in a hurry to follow after you like a puppy. “W-wait! Mi amor, wait!”

You ignore his protests as you set your empty glass on a nearby surface on your way to your bedroom. Miguel is right behind you, tripping over his feet as he chases you with stuttering words. When you reach your bedroom, you close the door right behind you, forcing Miguel to hold the door open so it doesn’t shut in his face.

“Mi tesoro, please.” He grunts, pushing the door open to find you sitting on the edge of your bed with a bored expression waiting for him. He quickly makes his way over, spreading your legs so he can kneel in between them. “Let me show you I’m sorry. Please, perdóname.”

You let out a soft sigh as you tilt your head to the side and stare down at him. He holds onto your calf again, head resting on your thigh as he stares up at you. Your hand comes up, caressing the side of his face gently. Miguel practically purrs at the loving gesture before your hand moves to his chin and grips it tightly.

You move his face off your thigh, holding it close to yours as you smile mockingly. “You’re so pathetic, Mig.”

“For you? Siempre.” Miguel responds automatically as he leans closer to mumble it against your lips. Your smile widens before you pull him into a kiss.

Miguel instantly moans and lets his hands travel up your legs to massage your thighs. He practically melts against you, basking in the taste of the sweet wine that remains on your lips. When you pull away, his eyes are glossy and sluggish. It’s as if he got drunk off your kiss and the aftertaste of wine. You stroke the side of his chin with your thumb in an attempt to pull him from his daze as you spread your thighs wider for him.

“You better make it good, Miguel. Open.” The last word is commanding and Miguel doesn’t hesitate to open his mouth. You lean down and spit in his mouth, “Swallow it.”

He happily obliged, swallowing it with a happy hum. His eyes drift down from your eyes to your spread legs. The pretty lace of your panties is in clear view from where he kneels and he lets out a soft whine at the damp spot on them. He looks back up at you, a desperate, pleading expression morphing his features. When you give him a silent nod, his face flashes into a smile like a kid being told he can get whatever toy he wants at the store.

“Thank you. Thank you, mi cielo.” He mumbles as he slides his hands under your slip to grasp the sides of your lace.

He pulls it down slowly from your legs, watching intently as it reveals your cunt. He bites his lip at the sight and lets out a shaky sigh as your panties are dropped down your legs. Once they’re off, you scoot up on the bed to lay on your back. Miguel instantly follows your body, leaning his elbows on the bed as he grabs your thighs to spread them open again. He doesn’t hesitate to bunch your nightgown up to your waist and bury his head in your glistening sweetness.

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as your hands go to Miguel’s hair. His warm tongue licks you fervently, moaning into the skin as he drinks in your sweet juices. It’s sweeter than any bottle of wine money could possibly buy. His tongue circles your clit, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it to prod his tongue into your entrance.

A soft sigh is his reward as you lift your legs to rest your heel-clad feet on his shoulders to give him a better angle. When the heel digs into his skin through his button-up, Miguel lets out a desperate whine that causes your thighs to flex. His eyes travel up your body until they meet your own. His brows are furrowed in concentration, but his red eyes are brightened with enjoyment.

He’s a desperate man as he tightens his hold on your thighs and works his mouth against you. He moans at your moans, lets his tongue lick long strokes to gather as much of your arousal as possible. He’s enjoying this, finding an aching pleasure in the ability to feast on you. It’s too good, too heavenly. He lets out another whine as he closes his eyes and thrusts his cock into the bed with each lick he gives your pussy.

You’re close, both you and Miguel can feel it. Miguel hurries his licks and sucks harsher, moving to focus on your clit. He’s so desperate for you to cum on his face, because he knows that when you do, it means you’ve forgiven him. That, and he is impatient to swallow it all. But you haven't forgiven him yet, so you tug on his hair once again and pull his face away.

Miguel lets out a sound of protest, mumbling “No. No, no, no. Please.” while trying to fight your grip and bury his face back into your folds. He looks back up at you with sad eyes, small whines leaving his lips as if he were an injured dog. Meanwhile, you’re panting. You’re pussy throbbing at your own denial for release. You try to gain your breath before rasping out, “You haven’t earned my cum yet.”

Miguel lets out a desperate noise in response. He tries once again to suck your clit into his mouth, but your hold is unbreakable. You sit up then, legs now folded under you as you look down at his sticky face. “Get on the bed and lay on your back.”

Your instructions give him new life, knowing exactly where this is going. He quickly gets up and practically throws himself onto the bed. He lays patiently as you crawl over to him until you’re hovering above his face. His eyes fall to your pussy again and he groans in excitement. The tension grows as your thighs come to rest on either side of his head but make no move to lower yourself down. You’re hovering just high enough so Miguel can’t flick his tongue up to taste you. It makes Miguel squirm with impatience.

Right when he opens his mouth to start begging you to sit down, you drop onto his face. His gasp is suffocated against your pussy as he grabs onto your thighs. He closes his eyes instantly as he begins moving his tongue into your cunt, moaning when he feels your walls swell. Hurriedly, you take his hands and bring them up to your waist so your slip isn’t covering his face before you grab onto the headboard.

Miguel’s whine vibrates against your pussy lips and you begin bucking your hip into his mouth. His nose bumps against your swollen clit with every thrust, increasing your pleasure. Miguel finds his own pleasure in it, getting the ability to smell your honey-like slick. Miguel mumbles words against you, but the words are incoherent between your moans and him cutting himself off to lick and suck on you. When your peak builds again, you gasp and try to ride his face faster. One of your hands drop from the headboard to tangle in Miguel’s hair, causing him to moan in appreciation.

With a few more strong licks from his tongue, paired with your consistent thrusts, you cum. Miguel greedily moans and laps it all up, holding you still on his face as he swallows mouthful after mouthful of release and slick. His tongue working to ease it all out of you. All you can do is try to catch your breath as you throw your head back and move your hips in lazy bucks before lifting yourself off his face. It gives Miguel time to catch his own breath as he looks up at you with a ruined mouth and dilated eyes.

“What do you say Miguel?” You question as you remain hovered over him.

Miguel is still trying to catch his breath, chest heaving. He lets out deep breaths before he can barely reply with, “Thank you for letting me taste your pretty pussy.”

You sigh before humming in approval, pushing your hair out of your face as you get up off the bed. When you look further down the bed and Miguel’s body, you see Miguel’s cock straining painfully through his dress pants. You let out a breathless chuckle as you press down on it with your hand. Miguel instantly moans and you feel him twitch in your hand.

“Take care of this by yourself, I’m going to take a bath.” You dismiss while rotating your hand over his bulge before taking your hand off him completely and disappearing into your personal bathroom.

You leave Miguel on your bed, a glistening mess dripping down his face and an aching cock in need of attention. He can’t stop the whine that morphs into a satisfied smile as he throws his arm over his eyes.

At least he’s forgiven.

I wrote this the same day that I got the request, but I didn’t want to mess up my posting schedule, so I’m sorry it’s been a few days!!

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse smut #atsv miguel #atsv smut #atsv fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #cherry's requests🍒

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mythrilthread · 1 month

Text

My magnum opus, the jewel of my Binderary round-up, the result of four months of hard work (that is to say, a lot of force applied over distance), the project affectionately known as The Motherfuckers (because it was rather unclear if I was going to finish these books or if they were going to be the end of me).

Force over Distance by cleanwhiteroom. It is currently also on AO3.

I was first introduced to this incredible story by a dear friend, who first sold me on actually watching SGU, and then said that they remember this fic since like 2011, which is always a promising sign. I went digging and found out I was in luck - the story was being rewritten and reuploaded on the author's blog. The next two weeks are described by the same friend as "one of the scariest moments in our cohabitation" as I'd spent literally every waking moment injecting the story directly into my eyeballs, and let me tell you, I'd not been doing a lot of sleeping at that time.

Then I gathered up my courage and reached out to CWR re: my burning desire to bind this story. And the rest, well. Let's dig into it, shall we?

This was my first time typesetting 540k words. Considering I tend to prefer larger font sizes for increased legibility, it was immediately obvious that this was going to be a multivolume project. I settled on three, as it's the relationship between three individuals that forms the core of the story.

I also knew I wanted to keep the typeset in black and white, but play around with light and dark a lot. So I did. One of the first design idea I actually had was the way I wanted to handle projected speech. Mental link between Young, Rush and Destiny is THE most vital part of the story, and I wanted to make it immediatly obvious. I also wanted to be able to take one glance at the page and tell how much of the action is actually just two guys staring each other down :) Hence the blackout effect of thoughts being represented as light over darkness.

I also wanted to preserve as much of my reading experience as possible. So I saved all the chapter quotes/summaries in the TOC, and hid the chapter content warnings in the frame of the gate that marks the beginning of each chapter. For most of the chapter the warnings stay the same, so after a while you stop really noticing them, but then you open a new chapter and see that the familiar shape of the words has changed, and get this UH-OH feeling. Which, I think is very much how it works in my design, because when the warnings change there's usually another line of text added.

For flashbacks and dream sequences I switched from italics to a lighter shade of gray. I woudn't say it's more legible per say, but it's in keeping with the overall light/dark theme.

There are instances of people using handwritten notes in the story. I collected more than a dozen of assorted handwriting fonts, with each character having their own "handwriting". So when, for example, someone begins writing in someone else's hand, you immediately know it.

The most insane, labor-intensive part of the typeset, however, was the way I decided to handle the Ancient translations. CWR's gone through the trouble of setting up hover-to-discover for it, which gives you a very different reading experience than, say, having the translations in the endnotes. So, naturally, I said to myself that I want to replicate that, and footnotes just won't do the trick. So. Every instance of Ancient in the text has an underlay of light gray Ancient script. And an OVERLAY of paper vellum with the translation printed in blue. Now, not to toot my own horn too much, but if looks SICK AS FUCK. You also MAYBE SHOULD NOT LIVE LIKE THIS. For the two copies of this work I had to cut up 10 sheets of vellum into strips, and then spent from 20 minutes to an hour per volume tipping the strips in their proper places. I then had to wear kinetic tape on both my hands to help with the joint pain. (It was worth it.)

Now for the title spread. It is also paper vellum that you see as soon as you turn the first page (the half-title), and see it covering the title of the book and author's name. And then you turn it. And the shields sing the matter wave of Destiny through the black. And yeah, I think that's very, very clever of me, actually.

Then, of course, were the endpapers. All 12 of them are unique abstract paintings done on black cardstock by hand with brush pens and correction tape, I scanned a sample of each set for posterity. All of them are my interpretations of characters' midscapes. For volume 1 I went with the fire wind of Rush's thoughts. Volume 2 was for Young, and I went for the reverse blackout poetry effect (because for all the mental talking they do, the unprojected thoughts are opaque to their counterparts) and all the loops, hairpins and blocks he does. Volume 3 is for the combination - Rush's fire wind, changing its color to match the circuitry pattern of Destiny's AI.

The rest, in comparison, is easy. All volumes are stitched with 3 strands of embroidery floss, a combination of black, blue and silvery-gray. The French double-core endbands are sewn in the same color scheme (though with a different shade of blue and gray switched for white for added contrast). The edges are painted and splattered to look like space.

The covers feature my (signature at this point, I guess) half-cloth river pattern, with the base being dark blue linen and the printed parts being Spitzer telescope images of the W51 star forge, Jack-O'-Lantern Nebula and the Eagle Nebula (courtesy of NASA), waxed by hand for added sheen. The spines are foiled in silver with a foil quill.

Each set is 5 pound of solid hand-crafted book, with one set being my personal copy, and the other sent as a gift to the author.

And that's it, folks! This has been an incredible project to work on, and I'm very proud of what I achieved with it.

#mythril thread books #bookbinding #ficbinding #fanbinding #binderary2024 #stargate universe #sgu #force over distance #stargate

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hor3nee · 3 months

Text

• Union •

Gojo and his arranged marriage with Reader.

CW/TW: Fem! Reader, Arranged marriage, BREIF Suggestive stuff, Corny Gojo, Reader & Gojo ages implied to be very young (18-23), Gojo typical flirting, SFW (Lmk if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Gojo x Reader

AN: Gojo is bitchless in this fic bc I say so. Pt 2 here.

Weddings aren't supposed to be this boring. In fairness, boring is better than a bad wedding. Could have a roadhouse-type fight between in-laws, an ex breaking through the doors proclaiming their undying love or a runaway bride. Or a runaway groom. Maybe he should've been a runaway groom? Internally, Gojo's sure it'd be more exciting than sitting in a room full of family and 'friends' who are discussing his marriage more than he's even caring to think of it.

"Congratulations to The Strongest and his bride." Another blanked-out random voice says giving polite blessings to him and the lady dressed in bridal wear beside him, you.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest, they call him, well he calls himself, and yes, he is, he without a doubt is the strongest. Born with the Six Eyes technique after ages of the Gojo clan, while relevant in the Jujutsu world, unable to have a child with such technique for so long, Gojo was instantly hailed heir, no questions asked.

And with all of that, comes responsibilities, that, as immature as the man acts, he does take care of. Responsibilities include many things other than killing curses though, responsibilities include managing the clan, doing his part in Jujutsu society, mentoring the students and keeping peace with the other clans. Just to list the few, less action-based responsibilities. Marriage is an obvious one as well.

And you're the bride.

He knew it was coming. It wasn't specifically because he was the strongest he was gonna be strung into a marriage as quickly as possible, though that played a role in it. He saw it with his parents, relatives, and the other clans, Zenin especially who practiced it most rigidly perhaps, marriage was a necessary part of holding a certain status, it's simply expected. Arranged are ideal.

It's not that he was forced into it either, everyone knows this is Satoru Gojo, he does whatever he wants. He gets whatever he wants, he's spoiled, both by the hands of Jujutsu society that almost worships him for his abilities and his own self, the ego he holds very proudly and very loudly that he shamelessly keeps up. If he wants something, he takes it, if he doesn't, he'll leave. He holds that sort of irrefutable power.

So he's okay with this, with marriage. With an arranged marriage, to you, whatever his reasons are that much is clear.

"You gonna eat that?" He's not asking really, he's already got his freakishly long arm drawled out on the table grabbing the plate out of yours. Fingers wriggling comically and he doesn't even make eye contact, looking at the slice of cake with a deeper passion than he bothered to look at you with. Not that you're expecting it, but.. you are the bride, he is on board.

"..Uh guess not." Is all you can reply, slightly awkwardly as he snatches the slice and gobbles it, humming like an overgrown toddler. Was he feeling as awkward too? He didn't look it, he looked fine, bored out of his over-active mind but not mad or anything. Much less mad at you, nor nervous. You're sat close, right by his side, being the main events the two of you of course, Gojo more so because he's the main event in everything in his life.

"This shit's good." He's moaning now, at cake. Almost makes you cringe but with that huge grin of overabundant confidence he has, he somehow makes it seem less cringe.

"Wedding cake's always good-" He gulps down another piece as he speaks. "Best part of any wedding."

Was that?.. Was that an insult? Felt like it, you're sat there all prettied up prim and proper to marry him, and you know he accepted this marriage and he's calling the cake the best part of the wedding? No, you can't even blame him. If anything you probably agree, save for the overly expensive gifts of cold hard cash the other clans and guests were leaving those were also good parts. Because this is, arranged.

You two, are, for the most part, strangers to each other. Together yes, married actually since you and him signed the legal documents no less than 10 minutes earlier into the wedding.

Still, it's awkward.

Soon the cake is gone, mostly by Gojo's abyss of a stomach, and the guests leave. Caterers clean up and family members give some last tidings before leaving. As well as you, and Gojo.

"So, do you think I'm hot?" He perks, sprawled on the couch with his formal wear lazily pulled off scattering around the floor from when he took it off the instant he was inside the residence. His residence, of course. A grin showing no signs of the tense awkwardness one would expect a young man freshly married to a wife he's only married to through arrangements would be. But no, he's Satoru Gojo, if there's one thing he has, it's an overwhelming amount of self-assurance.

"Do I- Do I think you're hot?" You reply, standing a bit awkwardly in front of him, still trying to process the fact you're sleeping here tonight, no for the rest of your life you'll be sleeping in this house. Home, you should call it, it is your home now. Might take time to properly digest that but it is.

"Yeah, am I hot?" The question is, by his expression, obviously self-explained. He IS attractive, with pretty big blue eyes, tall and decently built, and gorgeous lips too, he knows it, he knows he's hot. Gojo just likes to tease, he's a little shit.

"I mean, am I attractive to YOU?" He asks again, putting more emphasis. For all the slightly passive-aggressive things he's said the evening and immature behaviour, the question is poised genuinely. He's smirking, humming almost as he asks but the way he looks at you it's also clear that he is asking you, seriously.

His gaze never breaks with yours, and though you only take a second to respond, it feels like an hour with the heavy weight of the situation in your brain and the almost stinging feeling of his wide baby blue bright eyes piercing through yours waiting for your response.

"You... Yes, you are attractive." He is, he knows that already though and that wasn't what he was asking. But you know that wasn't what he asking. His expression doesn't falter though, but there's an obvious disappointment, boredom more specifically in it at your lack of response. You're talking but the words are white paper plain, even you can taste it on your tongue, how chaste you sound.

"I think you're attractive, too." His reply is more genuine than yours as well, maybe not genuine but a lot more emotion in it. Maybe he's just more confident, which he is no doubt.

"Thanks-"

"Like, seriously." He whistles, christ that's jarring. "seriously hot."

He's up off the couch before you can give another disingenuous 'thanks' and standing right in front of you, eyeing you down with little to no attempt to act ceremoniously, which he was showing at least the faintest ounce of at the wedding earlier. That gawky tension of whatever the hell the two of you have going on is back, but not for Gojo. He doesn't even have a semblance of humility in him to feel that tension that's burning inside of you right now.

"We're supposed to like each other, you know." He adds, keeping his eyes trained on your body shamelessly.

It feels like his hands are folded around you but they aren't, they're hanging loosely by his side all dangly as his limbs are, the man is a giant. It's more a feeling, suffocating, as though you've been cornered when you aren't. It's the middle of a decently spaced living room and the front door is unlocked. And Gojo, as devious as his smirk is, would never hold you by the binds of a pressured marriage. If anything, you were almost under the assumption he didn't care for you, or this marriage.

"I guess, yeah." You start. "You like me then?" You finish, a bit bolder now, he's seamlessly talking and you are married now, till death do you part as they say. Might as well match his energy.

"You bet I do, sweetheart." Petnames? Okay maybe too much, he might need to dial it down. But Gojo is Gojo, the strongest, an eccentric man. He doesn't 'dial it down' for anything, or anyone. You're his wife, and he likes what he sees. Smiling as he speaks, genuine and concise in his words, he means what he says. As confusing as this situation is, he is young, he's accepted it, and not begrudgingly at all. "I got me a pretty wife- you, you're my wife, so I like you."

"Thanks Gojo." Ah, there it is, not disingenuous. Though minimal he picks up on it, you also mean it. Maybe not in the way he means it, maybe more than he means it, who knows, not him. Confident as he says he is with the ladies, he's never actually been with one before, this whole relationship shtick, marriage shtick, is new.

Marriage is built off of love, his elders told him, he saw in shitty rom-coms and pop songs blasting the radio. He'd like that, love, as much immaturity and disregard he’s shown at the wedding, the engagement, the arrangements when he first heard they'd picked a partner for him, it has appeal. And he wants it, and this woman, you, you're going to be the one to give it to him, love. Not today, not tonight. Maybe not in a month or a year, but it'll grow, and fester over time. He's sure, as he is in everything, this marriage will last.

"I'm tired as hell from all that wedding crap," Gojo says, his feet ever so minimally backing off so he isn't smothering you with his presence and wide sapphire-like eyes boring into your understandably unsure eyes. "There's a guest room, I'll sleep there and you can take the main bedroom-"

"I can sleep with you." You cut him off.

"In the guest bedroom??" He questions with a blink, okay so he's a bit stupid. That's okay though.

"No, with you, in our bedroom." You correct him, feeling more assured now, eased by Gojo's, thankfully.

"Right." The cheeky grin is back. Actually, it isn't very annoying anymore, it's kinda attractive. He is attractive that much is sure, but he's starting to be attractive to you. "Let's go sleep in OUR bed then, how's that sound?"

"Sounds good."

It's oddly domestic, the walk to the bedroom he previously had all to himself, showing you the way, and showing you the bed you're gonna be sleeping in for the rest of your days. The way his slender fingers, which you were almost sure would poke out your eyes, gracefully helped you dissemble the layers of jewelry and fabrics you were dolled up in. His touch was feather-light, in stark contrast to his smug demeanour, making it clear, the boy has never undressed a lady.

Nothing goes further than that though, he doesn't push for anything more, and considering how new and confusing everything still is, you don't either. Instead choosing to lay back, and shut your eyes beside Gojo, letting exhaustion overtake you both and just sleep for the night.

Sleep beside your husband.

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x you #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #no use of y/n #husband!gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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kithtaehyung · 6 months

Text

and f*ck you, too (m) (teaser) | pjm

title: and f*ck you, too (m) (teaser) pairing: fuckboy assassin!jimin x assassin!reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; work rivals!au, assassins!au, enemies with benefits summary: you despise each other. and yet, you can’t seem to stay away. which is fine, since both of you are completely fine walking the line where it’s drawn. fic warnings: (smut warnings under the cut) language, violence, angst, blood/wounds (reader’s, jimin’s, and others’), cocky!jimin, cold!jimin, baddie!reader >:)), weapons: knives/guns, alcohol/drug mentions, reader has fast cars :))), ties to chairs, chains but who is shocked??, jimin has fast motorcycles🙄, angst, yoongi as a weapons specialist gets his own warning a ha ha, jimin looks too good in tanks, and without a shirt at all, this jimin is a warning in itself, did i mention angst? note: lmfaooooooo this is just assassins getting in each others’ ways with a generous splash of filth and a side of angst :)) WE ARE GETTING A PROPER JIMIN FIC, Y'ALL!! est. word count: 15-20k | teaser wc: 908 est. drop date: oct 2023 18+ taglist: sign up here (i check all blogs)

smut warnings: explicit scenes, biting, bondage (ropes, pillowcase), scratching, angst, slapping, hickies, body worship, piercing play, spit play, orgasm denial, pussy spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism, face riding, slut/whore mentions, edging, oral (m/f rec), thigh riding, possessive but they won’t admit it</3, choking, angry sex, angst lol, hair/head pulling, protected/unprotected sex, praise kinks galore, easy access, cowgirl, hitting from the back, rough sex, spanking, teasing, creampie, chains (stay on!!!!), multiple orgasms, aftercare when it’s least expected👀

Glass.

Bullet casings.

So much broken glass.

As you listen in the scattered silence, you’re careful to skirt around the tiny shards making an ocean out of your villa.

Well. It’s now more of a wreckage than a beautiful seaside vacation home, but nuances mean nothing when you’ve only used it to store an eighth of your arsenal.

And your fucking pink McLaren that’s now face down in the nearest reef.

You are going to end this man.

“Come out, my love…”

Fuck him for double-crossing right when you were getting along.

At least, you felt like you were.

Maybe it was just a lapse in judgment, and the last goddamn mistake you’ll ever make around Park Jimin—assassin, playboy, sole occupant of the top of your hit list.

“Your target’s on the run, you know.”

Of course you’re fucking aware. But he won’t trick you a second time.

As soon as he gets a clear shot, he’s taking it.

And despite rivulets of sweat and blood running down your arm and a fresh gash on your upper chest, you are poised to do the exact same.

“Shouldn’t you be following them? Awhh, wait, your ride… What a shame.”

The gritting of your teeth almost gives you away.

Think.

Based on where you hear Jimin and the layout of your place, he’s somewhere around the foyer.

And hiding in an open hall next to your kitchen, there’s no way you can get him from where you’re poised.

So wait.

“What to do… Ah! I can call a taxi to pick you up! How does that sound?”

Wait, goddamn it.

Don’t fall for his shit.

Watch for any dark waves in the debris-riddled floor. Hold off until he’s in a good sight line.

Fuck, your wounds hurt.

Hot exhaustion warms your mouth as you wince, blood starting to harden along your slick skin.

“Or you can just let them get away. This would be Chance Zero, though, so. You’d end up getting a geo-bounty on your file… but it’s your decision!”

Breathe.

Geo-bounties aren’t too bad if they’re low.

Only when they evolve into Global status should you be worried. And that only happens if the Council deems it.

You’ve stayed on their good side… other than screwing up the missions Park Jimin has ruined.

“Come on, love.”

He sounds closer.

“Be a good girl.”

A lot closer.

Now you just have to wait until he… rounds the… corner.

…What happened?

Where the fuck did he—

Your body reacts before your mind does, ducking to avoid a strike into hard spackle.

Twisting, your forearm prevents the next swipe of Jimin’s blade as you retrieve your side dagger, and four boots trample the glass below in a violent dance of combat.

Above below swipe left dodge right parry parry lunge parry.

When you aim at his chest, your gun is quickly shoved, bullet firing into one of the last kitchen cabinets left standing.

And your opponent has the nerve to look appalled.

“You were gonna shoot me?”

All you do is tsk.

Clashes ring out again as you dart forward, and you go for a opening while mapping out how the hell you’re gonna catch up to your target before—

Fucking hell!

Chilling pain sears across your shoulder from the cut Jimin makes, and you half-stumble, half-crouch to avoid his killing blow.

Taking the risk and rolling across your favorite broken vase, you slide and fire again, the kickback hurting your arms like a bastard.

“Fuck!”

Finally.

Through slitted eyes, you can tell you just grazed Jimin’s thigh, and he collapses to a knee while you struggle to stand upright.

Crinkles of glass echo throughout the hall as you both haphazardly collect yourselves, with him breathing hard and you grunting through stinging pain.

Shit, he’s cursing like you’ve never heard before.

But you can’t let that distract you from your goal.

Up first, you aim your weapon just in time to face his expression.

Those wide eyes.

You have the perfect shot.

And yet…

You hesitate.

Time bends as you vascillate between decisions, your moral compass going haywire and refusing to align with any direction. Electricity fizzes and pops while another patch of your ceiling falls, but neither of you move.

Spare him. End it. Kiss him. Finish the kill.

Your heart squeezes the trigger.

And you fire at the light fixture above him before fast limping out to your garage.

Curses ring in the falling shards while you make your getaway, fingerpainting the walls with swift red strokes.

Get there get there get there.

Jimin won’t be far behind.

Ripping open the back door, you grit through the pain while swinging a heavy hand onto a glowing pad.

After the blooming beeps, you swipe in a password before hitting Floor, and find ponderous support on the door while you wait.

Breathe. Breathe. Holy shit, everything hurts. Breathe.

At your feet, the solid garage foundation slides open to reveal a car rising on a platform.

The other McLaren that Jimin didn’t launch off the nearest cliff.

Lamenting the leather interior already, you drag yourself to the drivers side with a series of groans, swiping a roll of wrappings and a couple gun magazines from a counter along the way.

Run run run.

He’s probably right behind.

In seconds, you’re zooming out of the driveway.

And with a bruised as fuck heart, you blast holes in Jimin’s motorcycle wheels for good measure.

tbc. :)

what do we think bc i already wanna fight this man lol | join the taglist!

a/n: thank you all for reading! if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, and messages are super super appreciated :D see you at the droppppp hehehe ⇥ masterlist ⇥ writing updates board

#here we gooo!#bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #jimin fic #jimin x you #jimin x reader #pjm fic #in which both parties are stupid and attractive and despise one another lol #bts smut #bts angst #jimin angst #jimin smut #ryenwrites #*latest #*ryenfictalk #*teasers

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sweetsreverie · 1 year

Note

I absolutely love the Ghost x Pink!Reader fic you wrote! Could you write a sequel? Maybe a breakfast next morning + cute and fluffy waking up with Simon. Those two were apart from each other for a while I assume so being a bit clingy is understandable.

summary: pt. 2 of this opposites attract fic. you and simon spend the morning together before he leaves once more.

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x female reader

wc: 1,147

Simon and the rest of 141 slept soundly that night. Simon was glad to be at home with you, in his own bed, and the others were glad to not be sleeping on the ground and in a proper house. You’d also given Soap a sherpa-lined blanket to sleep under, and he definitely enjoyed that.

As happy as you were to have Simon home for the night, you knew it was going to be just that: for the night. He would probably be leaving as soon as the sun came up, and it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary for you to wake up to his side of the bed empty and cold.

But when you woke up the next morning and opened your eyes, he was still beside you. He wasn’t asleep, but rather just resting beside you as you did.

“You guys haven’t left yet?” You ask him softly, and you stretch your arms out towards him, which he welcomes. You lean over and put your head on his chest, with your arm around his waist. Simon isn’t always one for cuddling, but he always lets you rest against him.

“We should probably be gone by now. But I don’t hear Price making a fuss so we must be fine.” Simon says softly in his gravelly morning voice that you’d come to love so much. His hair is tousled and his eyes are droopy, and it just makes you want to tuck him in once more.

“Let him make a fuss in my house. He’ll see.” You mumble against him, and you feel the small chuckle that leaves Simon.

“Yeah. you’ll give him hell, won’t you.”

“That’s right.”

Simon gives the top of your head a little tap of his fingertips, and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and brushes some hair away from your face once you turn and look up at him.

His touch is featherlight as always.

“We should get up though. Don’t want those bums to think they can stay here forever.” Simon murmurs, and when he moves to try and sit up, your grip around his middle tightens.

“Five more minutes?” You ask him hopefully, and he settles back down in his spot on the bed.

You and Simon spend a few more minutes in the bed before you get up, and you make your way to the kitchen after freshening up in the bathroom, and Simon stays behind to brush his teeth.

The three other men are awake by the time you enter the room, and Price was already working on folding the blankets and cleaning up the pillows and things.

“Are you guys hungry? I can make some tea or coffee- I think we have some biscuits too?” You offer them, and honestly you don’t have a ton in the kitchen, considering you weren’t expecting to be feeding guests any time soon.

“That would be wonderful, thank you very much Y/N. We’ll be out of your hair shortly. Thank you for letting us stay the night here.” Price says while he takes a seat on the couch, and Soap sits down at the kitchen table while you start warming up a kettle of water.

“You know, I think Ghost is real lucky to have a woman like you in his life.” Soap says, and not even a second later, Simon steps in, clad in his gear and some clean clothes.

“And why is that?” He asks, and while you could barely contain the giggle that left you, Soap was quick to shut up. Simon’s hand brushes against your waist while he passes by you in the kitchen, and that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by the others.

The five of you sip on tea and munch on biscuits, and you know that shortly after, Simon is going to pack up his things and head out again.

Simon hates having to leave you. He hates not being able to tell you where he is, or when he’ll be home. That is.. if he comes home.

So while Price, Soap, and Gaz start to pack their things into the truck they came here in, Simon takes you back to the bedroom and sits on the bed with you. He sits with you on his lap, and one of your arms is around his neck while you lean against him.

“You know I’ll be back soon, love. I always come back to you, don’t I?” Simon asks you, and he reaches up to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod, though you still always fear the worst while he’s away.

“You do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you while you’re gone.” You tell him softly, and he puts his hand on your knee and gives it an assuring squeeze.

“I don’t want you to worry yourself sick over me, Y/N. You know that.” Simon says while he rests his chin on top of your head. Simon doesn’t want to imagine you worrying about him while he’s away. He wants you to just take care of yourself, and he’ll return in due time.

“Meeting your team makes me feel better, you know.” You tell him, and Simon lets out a quiet chuckle while he shifts on the bed, and gives you a gentle nudge so you stand up, and he stands up also.

“C’mon. I gotta get going” Simon says while he leads you out of the bedroom, and he slips his mask over his head during the short walk outside. You take his hand as you walk, and as the two of you exit the house, Soap grins at the sight of Ghost holding hands with someone.

“Alright, you guys be safe, okay? And you take care of my Simon.” You tell them, and Gaz lets out a quiet chuckle while Price gets in the truck.

“We all look out for each other, so don’t you worry. He’s in good hands. Mostly.” Gaz says while he looks over at Soap, who narrows his eyes at the man briefly.

“Alright, you two say your goodbyes then.” Soap says, and he glances at Gaz before the two of them climb in the truck.

Simon turns to you then, and he brushes a gloved finger over your cheek carefully.

“I love you. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He says in a hushed voice, as if the guys in the truck could hear him.

“I love you too. Take care of yourself and them. Come back home to me, Simon.” You return, and you stand up on your toes slightly to kiss his cheek over the mask before he gives you a wave, and he climbs in the car with the rest of 141.

You watch as they pull away from the house, and you and Simon share a glance before the truck disappears over the hill.

tag list: @ho3forghost @juggernaunt @shellfishb34ch @redpool

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty reader insert #female reader #pink!reader #simon riley fic

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psychedelic-ink · 5 months

Note

hi:D I don’t know if you take request but I like ur writing style and wanted to request a fic where the reader is having period cramps and Mike helps comfort her

yess my requests are open nonnie! tho when I write them can be questionable fgbgfbfg and thank you so much for requesting this my period is close so this was lovely to write 💜

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐘

ㅤㅤmike schmidt x f!reader

Your breasts ache, your stomach hurts—your body the most uncomfortable place to be. You turn to the side as you bring you knees up to your chest and hug yourself. Another cramp. You squeeze your eyes shut, hissing through gritted teeth. You breathe heavily as you wait for it to pass. Your nostrils flutter. Your face warming up while the pain escalates. It escalates, escalates, and escalates—then it suddenly comes to a halt.

Suddenly you can breathe again.

Taking the opportunity, you fill your lungs with air. You want to cry. Everything fucking sucks. You want to call out to Mike who’s watching TV with Abby in the living room but you feel too weak to form the words. You suppose that’s alright. He’s already exhausted and overwhelmed with everything, it’s better that he doesn’t worry about you too—

“Fuck—”

Your entire body clenches, your arms tightening around you as your nails bite your forearms. Fuck. You need painkillers, the whole bottle of them. The faintest of whimpers fall from your lips. The back of your head is throbbing from how taut your body is. You try to breathe, try to get out of bed, but even the smallest of movements add to the pressure of the cramps.

You’re so lost in the pain you don’t even hear the door opening. You only notice someone’s here when you feel the faint dip of the bed.

Your eyes snap open, your back is still turned. A hand curls around your shoulder and squeezes.

“Are you okay?” you hear Mike ask. “You’ve been here for a while. Abby is making her version of spaghetti.”

“That’s. . .” you exhale from your nose. “That’s great Mike. But I think I’m gonna skip it.”

His hand doesn’t leave your shoulder, “You didn’t answer me. Are you okay?”

You know he won’t leave without some thorough convincing. Knowing this, you turn to your other side to face him. He smiles when your eyes lock and despite the pain, your heart flutters.

Just as you part your lips, about to tell him that you’re fine and he should just help Abby with cooking, another cramp strikes again. A choked-out sound rips from your throat and you immediately pull your knees to your chest again. You know it doesn’t exactly help. But something about the position makes you believe the cramp will subside.

“Hey hey hey,” Mike cups your cheeks, thumbs tracing circles on your skin. “Tell me what’s going on. Let me help, baby.”

“I’m—I’m on my period. I’m cramping.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You relax a bit as the cramp finally softens. “We should have some advil. Do you need anything else?”

God, you want to cry. He’s such a caregiver. You look away, embarrassment warming your stomach. “Maybe. . . maybe some of that leftover cheesecake too?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be right back.”

Before you know it he’s back with a fresh red stain on his sweatshirt—courtesy of Abby and her cooking skills you bet. You shuffle back a bit so he can take a proper seat this time, he does and gives you the advil. “You sure you don’t need anything else?” he places the plate of cheesecake on top of the bedside table.

“I’m good,” you answer, popping the pill and taking two huge gulps of water. “Thank you. Can we. . .cuddle a bit?”

Mike smiles and you swear it’s the brightest sight ever, “If I ever say no to that feel free to smack the shit out of me.”

You manage a small laugh despite the discomfort, and Mike scoots closer, wrapping his arms around you. His warmth feels like a soothing balm against the persistent ache in your body. You rest your head on his chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

He starts tracing gentle circles on your back, his fingers moving in a comforting pattern. The pain begins to ebb away as you focus on the warmth and love radiating from him. It's amazing how a simple touch can make everything feel a bit more bearable.

“Better?” he asks, his voice a soft murmur.

You nod against his chest, unwilling to let go of the safety his embrace provides. "Much better. Thank you for being here."

"Always," he replies, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. “You just need to say the words and I’ll be there.”

You think you answer him but you can’t tell as sleep slowly begins to take over.

All you feel is him.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x f!reader #mike schmidt x fem!reader #mike schmidt fluff #period fic #mike schmidt period fic #fnaf fanfic #josh hutcherson character fanfic #josh hutcherson characters fanfic #ww:drabble

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totaly-obsessed · 6 months

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Could you write a fic about Reader just always staring at Alessia because R just finds her really beautiful. Reader doesn't even try and hide her crush or staring and everyone knows. And if you wanted maybe add like Reader give Alessia a compliment everyday or every time she sees her (even if it's just saying you look beautiful or giving her something)

Muffin Top

Alessia Russo x reader blurb & request

-> Reader can't hide her crush on Alessia - who quite likes it that way

-> warnings: she/her pronouns, awkward flirting

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Oh god. Look at the big dope.”

Beth’s gaze followed Katie’s finger, the defender pointing at Alessia who was currently falling over her own two legs, trying to re-tell a story to Lotte and Viccy.

“What? You mean tiny?” Viv who had overheard her friends tried to make out who they were talking about. She thought they were talking about you.

While you were not necessarily ‘tiny’ you had joined the Arsenal women’s team out of their academy when you were quite young – having quite literally grown into the team. And while you had grown, the nickname stuck.

“Tiny? No! We`re talking about Less.”

Now that you were mentioned, their eyes wandered over to you – sat on one of the benches at the side of the pitch. You had started braiding Laia’s hair when the Spaniard sat down in front of you.

“She just can’t help it, can she?”

No. you really could not – but who could blame you?

Nobody that had ever laid eyes on the tall blonde striker – that’s for sure.

Alessia had joined Arsenal at the beginning of the season and while you had always carried a deep appreciation for her talent, things had changed a little when she joined you at your childhood club.

She was funny, so nice, and always listening to you when your quiet voice got swallowed in the chaos that was the changing room.

The fact that she was stunning did not help your crush at all. You were falling – hard and fast. To everyone’s amusement you did not even try to hide it, staring blatantly at the striker – awkwardly flirting with her whenever the possibility arose.

“Do you think we should help her? Poor thing – don’t think she’ll ever have a proper conversation with Less.” While Vivianne had compassion for you, seeing a little bit of herself in you, Beth and Katie did not – their eyes meeting and mischievous smiles taking over. “Nahhh.”

Meanwhile, Alessia had joined you on the bench, handing you a bobble to finish off Laia’s hair, the brunette immediately skipped off, throwing a loud “¡Gracias!” into your general direction.

Your heart was skipping as well, just not away from you but now that Lessi was sitting next to you, the staring was even more obvious – not that you cared. “Hey, Less?”

“Yeah?”

“You know what’s awesome? The top of a blueberry muffin.” Alessia wasn’t the least surprised that you actually handed her the top of a blueberry muffin, secretly swooning that you remembered that she didn’t like the bottom of it. “Tha-“

“Also, your face!”

There it was.

The incredibly bad flirting or rather blurting that the Italian loved so much, but only when it came from you.

“Thank you, baby.” Not that the pet name wasn’t enough – she came closer, and closer, just to kiss your cheek. The blonde was satisfied after feeling the heat of your face, joining Lotte with a cocky smile on her face.

“Just help the poor girl out, Less.”

Katie had joined the childhood friends, her arms thrown over Alessia's shoulder, taking her quite literally under her wing.

“Nah – I love her awkward flirting.”

Like a proud older sister, the Irishwoman squeezed her shoulder “Atta girl.”

Beth and Viv had been watching the exchange like everyone else, standing behind the benches, seeing you hold your cheek – still stunned at the kiss.

“Please let me help her Beth.”

“Nah – let her figure it out.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #woso #engwnt x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #lionesses x reader

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photo1030 · 3 months

Note

Pls do a fic or smthing where readers old guy friend finds her and they reconnect and they’re both crying and Arthur is like who is this and reader is like he’s my closest friend from home I haven’t seen him in ages and Arthur is all jealous kinda

Hi, Kids!

So sorry for the wait. Life has been busy, but I've been plugging away on this one. Thank you so much for this "ask"! This was actually an idea that I had for my regular "Arthur x reader" fic, so I was happy to oblige. I wrote this to coincide with my reg fic and I decided to go more angsty than smutty for this one, so I hope that is OK for the Anon who asked.

**Special thanks to @readingcoco for beta-reading for me. Your help was priceless.

LEATHER AND LACE - SAY HELLO TO AN OLD FRIEND

Summary: Arthur is none too pleased when you run into an old friend from your previous life.

*This is not my image. This belongs to Rafa on Pintrest. Beautiful work there.

Masterlist

Tagging: @daisybvck

The banging of an anvil echoes heavily in your ears, the deafening ringing thumping in your brain. You and Arthur have wandered into the busy town of Cripple Creek to see the local farrier. You have spent the last day hunting and while coming down through the valley pass, your horse, Blue, had thrown a shoe. Never one to neglect your horse, you insisted Arthur take you into the closest town to get him some attention immediately.

Now, Arthur is a firm believer in taking proper care of one’s horse, as a man’s horse means his survival. But the way you fuss over this spoiled animal as if he were your child causes Arthur to just chuckle and shake his head at you.

Coming out of the farrier’s building, you shield the sun from your eyes as you look around at the townspeople. The area seems pleasant enough. It is a depot location for one of the railroad lines, so there is a lot of traffic. People are coming and going, always in a hurry to go somewhere or nowhere. But always in a hurry to get there all the same.

You passed several pungent livestock farms on the way here, but now you can inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh air being pulled into your lungs. A slight breeze kicks up, lifting the soft tendrils of hair that frame your face to sway gently in its wake.

Arthur looks over as he lights his cigarette, amused at how your eyes roll closed and your whole body relaxes in a rare moment of peace and quiet. He really should get you out of that camp more often. Maybe he’ll hold off a bit on returning home, and the two of you can spend some more time alone together.

You can feel the bulk of him leaning in closer to you as his gloved hand runs down your spine to land on the small of your back. “Well, what do ya think? Should we get a room for the night or just rut about in the woods like we usually do?”

Your lips pull into a smile at his suggestion, and when you open your eyes, you are met with Arthur’s twinkling suggestively at you. Your face immediately brightens as you turn your body into him, hands finding their way to his broad chest. Your fingertips play with the upturned collar of his faded black button-down shirt. Giggling with excitement at the idea, you push up onto your tiptoes, your nose flirtatiously inches from his. Arthur’s hands settle comfortably at your hips, his arms enfolding you.

“Y/N? Y/F&LN, is that you?”

A vaguely familiar voice distracts you from answering Arthur’s question, but you can’t quite place it. Turning your head in confusion, you search for the source, and suddenly, your eyes widen with recognition.

“Robert?” Your gaze lands on a tall, slender man making his way through the crowd towards you. He is well-dressed in a blue and gold brocade vest and has auburn hair neatly combed back. He’s sporting more facial hair than you remember, giving him a distinguished look. He’s a bit older now, but you’d recognize that wide, toothy smile anywhere. An unexpected shriek of excitement escapes your lips as your hands slip away from Arthur. “Robert!!”

Arthur stands there dumbfounded as he watches excitement overtake your whole body as you run into the waiting arms of this mystery man. Who in the hell is this person? And why did you just abandon Arthur to embrace him like that? You and this strange man hug each other tightly, laughing and smiling as if God himself had gifted you each other.

“I thought you were dead, Y/N!” the man exclaims, holding you at arm’s length so he can take a good look at you.

“I thought you went to Europe! I thought I’d never see you again!” you laugh incredulously. Shaking your head in wonder, you throw your arms around the man’s neck again.

Arthur stands quietly, eyebrows knitted together, lips pulled into a thin line. He doesn’t like this one bit. The only person he’s ever seen you this excited over is him. Arthur’s fingers tap impatiently along his belt where his hands sit idle, as he waits for you to finish this reunion. Eventually, he clears his throat to try to turn your attention back to him.

Finally remembering yourself, you turn towards Arthur. “Arthur, this is Robert, my best friend.” Arthur’s eye catches how your arm eagerly loops around the man’s elbow. “We knew each other as kids. We grew up together back east!” You continue to gush as you present your old friend to your current lover. “Robert, this is Arthur.” You motion to the mountain of a man standing to your right.

Robert’s face lights up as he boldly strides closer, extending his hand out to shake Arthur’s. “So nice to meet you, Arthur!” His voice chirps with bravado and swagger, instantly making Arthur’s skin crawl. When Arthur doesn’t reply with the same enthusiasm, Robert turns back to you, eyebrows raised with curiosity. “So, is this your…husband?”

A slight giggle comes from your lips at the suggestion. “No, we’re not married. But he is mine.” You smile proudly at Arthur, your hand reaching over and squeezing his. Arthur smiles down at you as his body drifts slightly closer to yours. His strong arm snakes around your waist until you rest protectively against him. When he sees you beaming at him, it sets him at ease a bit with this intruder and he tries to relax a little.

“Robert, is it? Well, Robert, looks like you and Y/N go way back, huh?” Arthur asks, trying not to come off as annoyed as he feels right now.

“Oh boy, do we. We used to get in all kinds of trouble together.” Robert waves his hand in emphasis, then reaches out to tap your arm. “Y/N, remember when we used to sneak out and stay up ‘til 3:00 in the morning?”

You cover your mouth in embarrassment. “God, if my father ever found out what we were up to, he’d have taken a belt to me for sure!” you roll your eyes.

Robert’s dark eyes fall upon you with a sweet and nostalgic look, one held with affection of a time long past. “Used to be you and me, spitting off the edge of the world, right?” He leans over to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from Arthur and into his side.

You smile affectionately back at your friend, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. You and me.”

‘You and me’ - The phrase sticks in Arthur’s brain, a phrase you should only be using in reference to him… not some other random fella. His lip curls into a slight sneer of contempt, however, you are too caught up in the camaraderie with your friend to notice.

“We need to catch up! Come on, let’s get a drink and a bite to eat. I want to know everything that’s been going on with you since we last saw each other,” insists Robert, tugging on the sleeve of your white cotton tunic.

“Oh, yes!” You turn towards Arthur. “Can we, Arthur? We have time, don’t we?”

Right now, Arthur wants nothing more than to get you away from this man, this town and everyone else in the world. But he can’t say no to that wishful look on your face. He doesn’t have the heart to crush your hope. That has always been Arthur’s weakness: he can never say no to you.

“Fine, I guess we got some time to spare,” Arthur reluctantly agrees, trying to hide the disdain that threatens to break through his patient facade. You clasp your hands together, giving a little hop of excitement.

The three of you turn to head down the side of the street, with you and Robert chit-chatting incessantly the whole time. As you stroll along, Robert explains how he has become a lawyer and is traveling to California to take care of some estate affairs for a prominent family. He is just stopping for a layover in Cripple Creek to catch a connecting train.

Instead of going to a saloon, you reach a little restaurant along the main strip in town and head inside. Robert orders a bottle of the best liquor the bar has to offer, and you all sit around a table as he proceeds to tell you of all the gossip from back home.

Robert is so animated and full of life and fun, not caring at all about the judgmental looks of others as he loudly tells you anecdote after anecdote. But he’s always been like this. For as long as you’ve known him Robert doesn’t care what anyone thinks and therefore is free to do as he pleases. This is something that you have always loved about him and why you were such good friends when you were younger. He was a breath of fresh air in a stuffy upper-class world. And to be honest, you always had a bit of a crush on him, too.

“So, David and Clare got married, you know,” he smirks. Of course, Robert is referring to your ex-fiance who you were betrothed to, who, as it turned out, was sleeping with your friend the whole time.

“I figured as much,” you reply dismissively.

“Huge obnoxious wedding, of course.” Robert waves his hand with a flourish.

You huff out an unimpressed chuckle. “I figured as much,” you repeat again.

“Wasn’t even six months, and the rumors were flying about his infidelity.” Robert laughs at the absurdity of it. You roll your eyes and take a large swig from your glass. “You dodged a bullet there, my friend.” Robert gives you a wink.

Arthur has to stifle a snicker at the irony of the man’s choice of language.

“Probably should’ve just married you myself,” smiles Robert. The statement makes you blush a bit under Robert’s affectionate gaze. But it is a statement that sets Arthur on edge.

Arthur patiently pretends to listen as you and Robert continue to laugh and joke about old friends and the social scene you left behind, the pair of you growing more and more chummy, until eventually, you find yourself resting a hand on Robert's forearm as you speak. Arthur clenches his fist tightly under the table, his eyes staring at your fingers and watching as they absentmindedly dance along Robert’s arm. It is not intended to be a flirtatious move, as it is a mannerism that you often do when you are excited about what you are talking about. But it is an action that Arthur resents all the same right now.

You try your best to involve Arthur in the conversation but to be frank, you are discussing people and places that he has no frame of reference for. The only thing that does pique his interest is the way Robert keeps referring to you. That certainly has Arthur's attention. But he has to be careful. He can see how happy you are and doesn't want his temper to burst your little bubble. However, if he had his way, he would be grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the closest hotel to make you forget your own name, let alone another man's.

Arthur hates that you have this “other language” and bond with someone who is not only outside the gang, but outside his class altogether. He’d forgotten where you came from and what you’d given up to be with the Van Der Linde gang and him along with it. And this conversation with this ghost of your past only confirms it. Arthur tries not to glare at Robert as he takes in the man’s fine clothing and clean hands that have probably never seen a day of labor in his life.

The whole thing is a harsh reminder that Arthur may not only be holding you back in life but actually pushing you down.

“So,” Robert finally turns his attention away from you, ”What do you do for a living, Art?” Robert asks innocently.

The very sound of Robert’s voice makes Arthur bristle. “The name…is Arthur,” he grits out. “And it’s none of your damn business what I do.” At this point, Arthur wants nothing more than to plant his massive fist in this pompous fool’s face.

You instantly pick up on Arthur’s annoyance. You can see his steel blue eyes set hard as his fist clenches around the glass in his hand. Arthur’s head tilts slightly to the side as he watches Robert, and you know from experience that he is measuring the man up. Robert is only being nice, ever the extravert, but he has no idea what sort of man is sitting across from him.

“Easy now, Arthur,” you chuckle nervously as you pat his burly forearm. “Robert is only asking out of curiosity.” Arthur shoots you a look that you can’t quite place. “Arthur does a little bit of everything,” you quickly answer Robert to avoid further awkwardness. “He’s done bounty work, loan collecting, things like that.”

“Interesting,” muses Robert.

“Well, I’d rather be an honest sinner than a lying hypocrite,” asserts Arthur as he levels his gaze across the table at Robert.

“I assume you work with horses quite a bit, too, then?” Robert pushes as his eyes roam up and down over Arthur.

“I do.”

“Figured as much. You seem pretty ‘rough and rugged’ like the cowboys we read about back in the city.” Arthur’s eyebrows knit as his mouth turns into a slight frown. “Oh, I don’t mean anything by it, friend! You look fantastic!” Robert insists. “In fact, I couldn’t be happier for Y/N. Looks like she’s got herself a real man. Those sniveling, uppity simpletons back home were never her type.”

“And I assume you are?” Arthur asks. This causes you to look at him questioningly.

“Me? Oh, no. We were never like that.” Robert waves the comment off, not reading the underlying meaning of Arthur’s question.

“He’s right. Being married to Robert would be like being married to a puppy,” you joke, trying to lighten the ominous mood that Robert is thankfully oblivious to.

“True. But, you have to admit, we would have made quite the pair, wouldn’t we?” Robert leans over and nudges you in the side with that wide smile of his again.

Arthur roughly grabs his glass of whiskey and throws it back, the bitter liquor hitting his throat, before he slams the glass down onto the table.

“What are you gettin’ at, there, Robert? Hmm? You think Y/N would be better off with you than me? Is that it?” The icy stare that Arthur throws at Robert is cold enough to frost the windows of the room. His chiseled jaw sets tightly, his body tense as if about to explode. Your stomach drops as you realize that Robert has indeed crossed a line with Arthur, whether he has intended to or not. And you find yourself at an impasse: do you stand by your man, or do you defend your oldest and dearest friend?

Finally, seeing that Arthur is not amused by his antics, Robert takes the hint and clears his throat nervously. “Well, it has been so wonderful to catch up with you, Y/N!” He stands up from the table and adjusts his vest, running his hand over his hair to make sure everything is still in its place. You and Arthur stand as well in anticipation of the farewell. You are reluctant to say goodbye to your friend, and Arthur is anxious to leave.

The three of you silently file out of the little restaurant together and onto the busy sidewalk.

“I truly hope we can do this again sometime soon, Y/N. Maybe if I swing through these parts again, I’ll reach out.” Robert says hopefully.

“I’d like that, Robert. Please do.” You affectionately place your hand on his arm. “I’ve missed you quite a bit since I’ve been out here.” You give each other a tight hug, one that lasts a bit longer than Arthur’s liking. But then again, Arthur doesn’t like anyone touching you for any reason.

“Arthur, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Robert smiles and sticks his arm out to shake Arthur’s hand again, which he reluctantly does. Arthur’s large hand dwarfs Robert’s as it clamps down extra hard. “Take good care of our girl, yes?”

“Sure,” Arthur deadpans. “Our girl.”

Robert gives you both an awkward smile and turns to head back down the street towards the train depot. Your eyes follow him as your chest feels heavy at having to say goodbye to a part of your past.

When you turn back to Arthur to thank him for his patience, you are met with his hard face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he snaps.

Sighing in exasperation, you cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t give me that.” You knew this argument was coming.

“Just that you seem awfully close with that Robert fella.” The contempt in Arthur’s voice is not lost on you.

“Well, yeah, he’s my best friend.”

Arthur’s jaw clenches just a bit more at your answer. “Uh-huh.”

Your head tilts slightly to the side, eyes narrowing as you study him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like I said, you two seem awfully close.” His voice drops low and slow, almost spitting out the words like a spoiled piece of meat.

“That’s because we are. He was the only true friend I had, Arthur.” You shuffle your weight from hip to hip, becoming increasingly uncomfortable under Arthur’s scrutiny. You suddenly feel like one of his marks.

“Uh-huh.” Arthur’s simple responses quickly escalates your annoyance as you watch him pull a cigarette out of his pocket, striking the match on the nearby building with enough force that the wooden stick almost snaps between his fingertips.

“Oh my God, are you jealous?” you ask, disturbed at the turn in the conversation.

“Nope.” Dipping his head down, his eyes are hidden by his dusty, worn hat as his fingers bring the cigarette back up to his lips.

“No?”

“Alright, maybe I am,” he suddenly spins on you, face turning crimson. “Maybe I don’t like how excited you get to see another man. Maybe I don’t like you all laughing and smiling at someone else.”

Your heart begins to pound in your ears, taken aback by his surge of anger. “Arthur-”

“Don’t!” he barks at you. “Just…don’t! I can’t compete with that, and you know it!” He points his finger accusingly at you.

“Arthur, I'm not asking you to compete with anyone! In fact, there’s a reason why I left all that behind.” You step towards him, arms raised to embrace him, but he blocks your hands with his own.

“Save it!” And he storms off, leaving you standing there on the sidewalk. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, leaving you queasy. A storm of guilt, frustration, and yes even anger, rages inside your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you try to make sense of what just happened.

“Damn it, Arthur,” you mutter.

—---------------------------------------------------

Rather than chase after him, you decide to leave Arthur be and give him time to cool off. There’s no talking to him when he gets like this, as it usually escalates into a fight if you push it. You feel awful for making him feel bad, as you are well aware of how self-conscious he is. But then again, what about your feelings? You have every right to visit with an old friend and a dear one at that. Yes, you know how it looks. You and Robert always did have a special bond that bordered on the flirtatious side. But you love Arthur. And he knows that. You love him with a depth that could swallow the stars. And you are getting tired of having to constantly prove that to him.

After an hour of wandering the local shops to stall for time, you decide to find Arthur, knowing exactly where you’ll find him. Your boot heels click along the worn floorboard of the porch outside of the saloon. You can hear the chatter and piano music coming from inside. You look through the window, eyes searching for your target. Between the small sea of dusty hats and hulking shoulders, you catch sight of that familiar form that you seek.

Walking into the building, your hands roll over each other, fingers intertwining, as you take a shaky breath when you approach Arthur at the bar. You glide onto the stool beside him, fidgeting slightly to get comfortable. He sits quietly, still brooding with a menacing vibe radiating off of him. You motion to the bartender, who walks over when he catches your eye. “What’ll it be, Miss?”

“A beer, please.”

“Comin’ right up”. It only takes a minute for him to grab a bottle and set it next to the coin you’ve already placed for him. His thick, ready fingers pick it up off the bar top with a pleasant nod of approval as he sets about his previous task.

You spin the bottle between your fingertips, looking at Arthur from the corner of your eye. “So, are we going to talk about this?”

He continues to sulk quietly, lifting a shot of whiskey to his lips and downing it in one. His jaw clenches at the sting of the cheap liquor, but he promptly pours another shot into the diminutive glass, the bottle half empty at this point.

“Alright, fine.” You take a swig of your beer.

“Where’s your ‘friend’?” Arthur grunts without even looking at you.

“Robert is about to get on a train.”

“Mmhmm”.

“Arthur-”

“Alright, look, I’m sorry,” he interupts, slicing his hand through the air as if to end the argument right here. “Please don’t make a big deal outta this.”

“What were you worried about? That I’d run off with Robert?”

“Wouldn’t you?” he blurts out bitterly.

“You can’t be serious?” Your face twists up in shock. He only answers you with a snort of derision. “Arthur, I was excited to see an old friend. That’s all,” you stress emphatically. “You have to remember, I am surrounded by your people, your family, all of the time. This is the first time I’ve seen someone from my previous life.” Your tone unwittingly begins to take on one of annoyance as you try to plead your case. But it is an argument that is falling on deaf and angry ears.

“I’m sorry, I thought the gang was ‘your people’, too,” he bites back. Arthur can be a reasonable man until he is provoked, and then reason doesn’t factor in at all.

“Well, they are,” you backpedal sheepishly at his harshness. Your gaze falters to land on the bottle in your hands before attempting to meet Arthur’s again. “But you know what I mean. You can’t be angry because I was happy to see someone from my life that, heaven forbid, didn’t involve the Van der Linde gang.”

Artur just pouts in silence. You are getting really irritated at this point, but trying to remain calm and not cause a scene.

“So you’d just let me run away with Robert rather than talk to me and ask me to stay with you? Is that it?” you huff.

“Couldn't help but notice how excited you were to hear about everything back home. Almost like you miss it. Pretty damn clear after your little visit today that you don’t even belong here. Maybe you should.” And another shot gets poured into the glass.

Damn it, and there it is. The thing that always seems to be present in your relationship: the idea that you still don’t belong, even after all this time and everything that you’ve done. Arthur still doesn’t see you as “one of them”. And it is a sting that doesn’t sit well with you at all.

Your eyes begin to well up as you try to fight the lump forming in your throat. ”I can’t believe you just said that to me.” Your lips tremble slightly with emotion, a mix of betrayal and anger swirling and bubbling up inside you like one of Pearson’s stews.

The very insinuation is hurtful to you. You have turned your life upside down for the gang and for him. And yet, it seems it will never be enough. It’s as if you are being punished for having a decent life before you were thrust into this new one. You didn’t fit into society back east, and it seems you still don’t fit here either.

“Stop with the theatrics. I ain’t in a mood for it.” Arthur slings back another shot of whiskey.

“You really are an ass sometimes, Arthur,” you stammer in disappointment.

He immediately slams his shot glass down on the bar, shattering it. The action startles you, your eyes shooting wide open. Arthur finally turns to face you now, his eyes burning into you so intensely that it causes you to cringe. You know damn well that you’re not perfect. But, it always made you feel special that Arthur seemed to think so. But the look he’s giving you right now is plain enough for you to know that he no longer believes it.

And the wounded expression on your face enrages Arthur even more. The sight of you cowering like a lamb to slaughter because of his anger is too much. He’s furious at the everything right now: you, Robert, this town, and more importantly, himself. He grabs the whiskey bottle on the counter and whips it at the wall, sending shards of glass flying into the thick smokey air to rain down onto the immediate vicinity.

With your breath shaking, you slowly stand and back away from him. For the first time ever…you are afraid of him.

The tumultuous noise alerts the bartender, who promptly yells at Arthur. “Hey, watch it! You gotta problem, you take it outside! Don’t be causing a ruckus around here!” He shoves his thick, meaty finger towards the doors.

“Mind your own goddamn business ‘fore I give you a problem!” Arthur shouts back, now standing as well, leveling his gaze at the bartender.

With Arthur distracted by the barkeep, you turn and push your way through the now-curious crowd and make a dash for the door.

Your feet clumsily carry you down the steps as you sprint into the street, eyes watering and hands trembling from anger.

“Hey! Hey! (Y/N)!” It doesn’t take long before you hear Arthur’s gravelly voice hollering down the street for you.

“Leave me alone, Arthur!” you shout over your shoulder, not even bothering to turn around. Tears of anger are dangerously close to flowing as you walk even faster, your arms pumping back and forth to propel you further down the road. But Arthur is quick to catch up to you with his long strides.

“Where you goin’?” You can hear him quickly stalking up behind you, his spurs jingling heavily in the dirt of the street.

“Doesn’t matter, right? I don’t belong here, remember?” You throw his words back into his face with such a biting tone. “Maybe I’ll see if there’s a seat next to Robert on the damn train!”

“Like hell you will!” Arthur yanks on your arm, his grip painful like a vice, spinning you around.

But before you can even think clearly, your hand flies as if of its own accord, and you hear the sharp smack land across his cheek, cracking in the air before you feel the sting against your delicate hand. Arthur’s head snaps to the side from the strike, his eyes twisted shut from the impact.

Gasping, your eyes shoot open in shock as your hands immediately cover your mouth. You stand there, silent and trembling. Your chest heaves with broken breathing and choked sobs as you take a few steps back from him. You hate him so much right now. Not because of what he’s said, although that is bad enough, but because he has pushed you to this point. You never, ever want to hurt him. Arthur is dearer to you than life itself. You had never imagined raising a hand or weapon to the man you so desperately love, and yet, he has pushed you, backed you into a corner, to do so.

“Oh…I’m sorry,” you utter, the sound barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.” Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears as your unwavering gaze never leaves his face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. As you blink rapidly, a tear finally escapes your lower lash to cascade and roll over your hot cheek.

Arthur freezes before his gaze slowly turns back to you. But what he sees shocks him. The very sight of you in your heightened state almost breaks his heart in two. Shame coats his insides as he realizes his jealousy has gotten the best of him. And the pain and fear in your eyes is worse than any bullet to the gut, rocking him to his very core.

Arthur’s expression journeys from one of rage to shock to one of absolute remorse. He says nothing, which begins to terrify you even more. Arthur is known for his temper, even taking his frustrations out on you when needed. You pride yourself on the notion that Arthur may be difficult to handle but never for you. You have always been able to read him, to know his mind better than himself, which is why he relies on you so greatly. You set his world to right when it goes off-kilter. But now, you feel a great divide between you. You stare at him with no idea of what will happen next.

Arthur’s strong arms extend out towards you as a silent apology. But instead of falling into them, you shrink back from him. He halts immediately, turning his palms up in surrender. But slowly, he steps a bit closer to you. Arthur reaches out again, wrapping his hands carefully around your biceps. He can feel you tremble slightly under his fingertips.

Regret sits heavily upon his brow. You can see the self-reproach embedded into his eyes as he stares into yours, searching for forgiveness that he prays you’ll grant him.

Your eyes leave his face, a silent understanding settling between you as you focus on the buttons of his shirt, watching as his chest rises and falls with his calming breath.

With a deep sigh, he silently escorts you into the privacy of the immediate alley, gently pushing you back against the siding of the post office.

“You’re mine.” Arthur does not say this out of anger or possession. Nor has he faltered into a blubbering mess. He simply utters the statement as pure fact, no question.

“Am I?” you stammer. Your eyes lift to search his, looking for any doubt that may still linger.

“You sure as shit are.” Arthur’s voice is low but carries the loving undertone you always take refuge in as the slightest hint of a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“Really? Ten minutes ago, you were ready to let me walk out that door. Told me that I shouldn’t be here.”

Arthur pulls his lips inward at the dismay in your quaking voice. “I shouldn’t ‘ve said that. That was me being a goddamn idiot. But, it is true, ya know. You don’t belong in that gang, Y/N. I keep tellin' ya you’re too good for it. You deserve the finer things in life, things like Robert can give ya.”

Your shoulders fall with a painful sigh as your eyes gently drift shut again. You are so tired of having this same conversation over and over again.

“But,” he continues, “I do want you there. I want you with me. I need you, Y/N. We need you. It’s selfish, I know.” His chin bobs slightly in acknowledgement. “God forgive me, but we do.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Arthur. I want to belong somewhere. And to someone.” You look at Arthur with an almost desperate expression on your face. Your whole life, you’ve been floating like a leaf in the wind, bobbing about with no particular place to land. You thought you had finally found your place, your home, with the Van Der Linde gang, no matter how unlikely it seemed. And when Arthur threw it back in your face, it was like being pushed off a cliff to free-fall backwards with no one to catch you.

He lifts his rough hand to cup your face, his thumb ghosting over your cheek. “I won’t ever let you go, Y/N. Not ever. Not even if someone else comes along.” Your eyes begin to flutter again as the feeling of his skin on yours reassures you. You wrap your own hands around his wrist, holding his hand in place as you lean your face into his warm palm.

“Arthur, I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. The way you make me feel when I look at you is why I could never look at another.” Your eyes sparkle brightly in earnest, the last of your tears rimmed along your lashes.

He only hesitates a moment before he pulls you close to him. He secures you safely against him where you belong, your chest pressed up against his as powerful arms coil around you to lock you in. Arthur lowers his face to nudge your nose with his before planting his lips to kiss you slow and deep, taking your breath away.

When his lips separate from yours, Arthur briefly rests his forehead on yours before pulling back to look into your face once more. His eyes are intense and reflect a deeper shade of blue than you’ve ever seen. A wolfish grin begins to emerge under that peppered beard stubble as his finger tucks a rogue strand of hair behind your ear.

“Like I said, Y/N, you…are…mine.”

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic

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agendercrisisx · 3 months

Text

Birthday Surprise

Geto Suguru x fem-reader

This is a gift for my best friend @realjungkook, who has a minor obsession with Geto, and I think I can make it even worse so here is my first JJK fic. Enjoy.

Warnings: dom-Geto, Geto calls reader; slut, princess, baby, no use of Y/N, creampie, fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, reader gets tied up, cow-girl, missionary, and fucking on a kitchen counter, pure smut, like there is no plot, maybe a little bit, but this is like 99% smut, also this is not proofread, so I apologize for that, so if you find any mistakes please let me know :)

Summary: It’s Getos’ birthday and you want to do something special for him, so you begin on an elaborate breakfast. You want him to wake up to an amazing meal, and make sure his day becomes absolutely fantastic. But he doesn’t care about any of that, he only cares about you. And he quickly gets the best birthday present ever… you.

Word count: 7026

Your hips are swaying to the music, as you work on breakfast. Suguru is still sleeping, or that’s what he was doing when you left him. His hair was flowing over the pillow, and the blanket was barely covering his crotch. You had looked at him maybe a second too long, he looked so good all the time, even sleeping.

He had been snoring softly, his chest rising and falling slowly. He was in deep slumber, off to dreamland somewhere. Hopefully dreaming about you. His chest on full display as you stared at your perfect boyfriend. A soft smile playing on your lips, while you studied him. He is so cute.

You flip the pancake, it flies in the air for a second before you catch it with the pan. You turn around to the music, just vibing while you check to the croissants in the oven. You feel genuinely happy as you prepare breakfast for your boyfriends’ birthday.

A warm hand snakes around you stomach, and you try to turn around to meet him. But his grip holds you still. His lips find your neck and he slowly start leaving kisses, mumbling sweet praises as he does.

“You making all this for me?” His voice is soft and barely above a whisper as he mumbles it into your neck. You smile and finds his soft hair, brushing a lock behind his ear.

“Thought you needed a proper birthday breakfast.” He nibbles softly at the skin behind your ear, and you let out a whimper.

“Be nice.” You sigh, but his teeth just graze your skin again. Sending a shiver down your spine, as your hand grasps his hair trying to pull him away.

“You do something for me, let me return the favour.” His hand on your waist pulls you back against his chest and you can already feel his excitement. His cock already hard in the small of your back, his hands move so they’re holding your waist tightly. He grinds his dick on your ass, and you let a whimper and almost fall forward. He holds you up, his grip so tight on your waist you’re sure they’ll leave marks.

He is so much taller than you, towering over you. Letting him easily watch what you’re doing.

“Maybe you should hold focus on what you’re doing.” He smirks and you let out a yelp, as you realize the pancake is smoking. You rip the pan of the stove and try to send a mean look in Sugurus’ direction, but he is still holding you, making you unable to look at his face.

“I wouldn’t be distracted if it wasn’t for you.” You scold him, and he let out a chuckle.

“Don’t blame me, I barely did anything.” He pulls your hair back from your face and kisses your cheek. He knows exactly what he is doing, and that’s the damn problem. He has too much control over you, he knows you too well. Knows every button to push to get the reaction he wants.

His hand squeezes your waist and presses his crotch against your ass again. You whimper and he bends down to have his lips just besides your ear.

“Maybe we should wait with the rest of the food? Take a break? Let me thank you for making me food?” His voice is soft and so full of lust, having your knees weak in seconds. You wanna give in, but this is his birthday, for once you should be the one taking care of him.

His lips suck a soft mark on your neck, and you let out a gasp, that was all he needed to do and you’re instantly all his. You turn around, he finally lets you, and you look up at his purple eyes. He’s smirking his eyes already dark and full of desire. He looks like he wants to devour you whole, mark every part of you.

He reaches around you and turn the stove off, you already forgot about that part. You’re glad he takes responsibility.

“Do you have a preference?” He looks down at you, barely able to hold himself back. Your thighs press together, god he makes you feel so alive. You whole body is on fire, you want him so much. He stares at you with a certain look and your putty on the floor. His hands are still on your waist holding most of your weight with how weak your knees are.

“I don’t care, I just want you.” You almost beg, and his smirk grows even wider.

“Jump.” You don’t care to think of his demand before you do it, he catches you in the air. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His cock rubs so perfectly against your core, and you let your head fall on his shoulder at the stimulation.

He takes a few steps and places you on the kitchen island, you let go of his waist and he takes a step back to look at you properly. You’re wearing his shirt and a pair of panties, that’s it. Your nipples are pressing against the fabric, his gazes catch them. He licks his lips and looks back up at you. He’s holding himself back, you know the moment you give him the go, he’s going to be on you.

You press your thighs together, and he detect the small move instantly. You want him so much, if he doesn’t do something soon, you’re going to combust.

“Am I allowed?” His voice is strained as he stares at you wanting an answer. He looks so fucking hot when he’s desperate. You want to tease he him, say no just to make him a bigger mess. But you’re just as desperate as him, and it’s his birthday. So, who are you to deny him.

“Yes.” You pant, his demeanour and voice have you craving him so badly. He moves before you even finish saying the word, and his hand is in your hard. Moving you like he wants you, pulling you face towards his. He smashes his lips onto yours. The kiss is desperate, hungry, and feral. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, and you open for him instantly. You fight for dominance for a second, but his other hand grabs your ass. You let out a soft moan and he uses the leverage to take control of the kiss. You move your hands to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. He massages your ass with his left hand, while his right has moved back to take a good hold of your hair. Pulling your head back and move you like he wants. He has full control.

When you break apart your chest is heaving and you’re gasping for air. His lips are covered in your saliva, he licks them letting the taste of the chocolate, you put in the pancakes, hit his tastebuds. His head is above yours and you must look up at him, even though you’re sitting on the counter he is still taller. He pulls you closer to him, pressing his cock against the tiny piece of fabric covering your pussy.

His hand falls from your hair down to your aching core, he presses a finger against your bundle of nerves, and you moan.

“These panties are useless, you should take them off.” His hand moves to the waistband of the underwear and snaps the elastic against your skin. You let out a soft gasp and he slowly pulls them down.

“Lift your hips?” He says, it sounds like a question, but you know it’s a command. You press yourself up, so he can pull the panties off you. The cold air on hitting your pussy makes you gasp, and he pockets the panties, and you give him a look. He just smiles, playing it off.

His hand cups your boob and you whimper as one of his fingers softly grazes your nipple. His hand moves further down, gripping your thigh, and pushing your legs open.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He is looking down, his eyes now fixated on your core, and the way you are slowly dripping on the kitchen counter.

“We should get something to fill that pussy of yours.” His gaze doesn’t falter, as he keeps eyeing your hole. You reach out and take a hold of his bicep. Pulling his arm from your thigh towards your core, he doesn’t resist, and lets you move him like you want. As his fingertips graze your pussy lips, you let out a gasp. You are way more excited than you would ever admit, the way he has you feeling by just a look is almost scary.

“Do you want something princess?” His voice is sultry, as his ring finger runs over your pussy, collecting your wetness on his finger. You whimper at his words and the subtle contact from his fingers have you clenching around nothing.

“You’re so damn wet baby, you want me to help?” His voice is low as he says it against your ear, letting his hand cup your pussy. You gasp as his grip gets tighter, his other hand still on your ass pulling you harder against him.

“Please Sugu.” You whisper pathetically against him, he kisses your neck pulling another gasp from you as his teeth graze your soft skin.

“Someone’s needy.” He presses a finger into your core, pulling a whimper from your lips. His fingers are long and slender and easily find the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He presses against hit, and you moan while clenching around him.

“Let’s get this shirt off you, shall we?” He pulls at the bottom of the shirt you’re wearing, which is by pure coincidence his shirt. You lift your arms, and he pulls the shirt over your head leaving your chest bare.

“You look so perfect without clothes on, you should do it more often.” He chuckles and let his hand fall to your waist. His other hand is still working that spot inside you, making you moan and whimper.

“More… please…” You whine, and he chuckles.

“You want my cock? Is that it?” He asks mockingly, moving his finger in and out of you. You try to piece some words together, but the way his fingers hits that spot, makes it increasingly difficult.

“… I… uhm, I want…” You answer gets interrupted as he adds another finger, and you can’t help but moan. His digits pump in and out of you, while you try to piece together a sentence.

“Come on princess, speak. Tell me what you want? Be good and tell me what you want.” You cry out as his fingers hit your g-spot again.

“I just… ARGH!” His thumb has found your bundle of nerves, circling it roughly, as your scream and clench around his fingers.

“I know you can do it baby, you just need to take a breath and talk to me.” He says against your ear, softly biting the lobe. You take a deep breath and for the third time to try to make a cohesive sentence.

“Okay, I… uhm… I want… I want… I want you.” You finally get out, and his fingers speed up. Rewarding you for how well you did, telling you without words that he’s proud of you. His fingers pull out and you whimper at the loss, but he’s quick to move his fingers to your clit. He runs small circles on it, you cry out and as a desperate way to stabilize yourself you grab a hold of his bicep.

“Let me fill you up? Make you come on my cock, like the slut you are?” He bites down on your neck, and you let out a gasp, he smiles against the skin and licks the wound. Softly soothing the bite and he moans at the weak metallic taste. He pulls his pyjama pants down, letting you look at his already hard cock. The tip is dripping precum, and you want nothing more than him inside.

“You think you can take me baby?” He pushes the head of his cock against your greedy hole, moving it up and down collecting the wetness. He pushes against your clit, you moan, and your grip around his arm tightens.

“I can take it, please just… fuck… please put it in.” You exhale as he dips the tip of his cock into you, barely doing anything. The head only being in a centimetre or two, but the stretch already feels so good. He’s always been big, he has always filled you up so nicely. And no matter how many times he works you on his cock, you will never get used to his size.

“You sure you can take me, you can take me, if I just…” He pushes the tip further in, and you scream. The stretch is on the edge of pain, but he feels so damn good. He fills you so perfectly and he’s not even halfway in. His fingers are still working your clit, making you squirm as he pushes in further.

“You can take me, right? Can take all of me?” He teases pulling out and slamming back in. Bottoming out, and the only thing you can do is scream and moan, squeezing around him and drilling your fingernails into his arms. He leaves it in, letting you adjust to his size and letting you catch a breath.

“Oh, you could take me, what a good girl.” He smirks and looks down at you catching your gaze with his own. His eyes are dark and filled with so many emotions, love and lust are the clearest.

The only problem right now is that this is his birthday, you’re supposed to do something for him. Not the other way around. Any other day, sure. But not today.

“… let me do- do so-something, *gasp* for you.” His cock twitches at your voice and the feeling of him throbbing in you makes it extremely hard to concentrate.

“Yeah? What do you wanna do?” His eyes are studying you, trying to figure out your plan.

“Let me do… the- the- work.” You can barely keep your mind clear enough to make a sentence, you’re nothing but a stuttering mess.

“Alright princess, I’ll let you do the work, but there is a catch. If you can’t make yourself, come in the next ten minutes, ill tie you up. Deal?” He always has the worst ideas, actually the best, but you won’t ever admit that. You’re not going to lose in this situation, no matter what happens. It’s really a win-win situation. But for once you want to be the one taking care of him, so you’re going to do everything in your power to make you both come.

“Deal.” He smiles and lifts you from the kitchen top. You wrap your legs around his waist and his hands hold you up under your ass and he moves to the bedroom. He’s carrying you with ease, you weigh nothing to him.

He throws you down on the bed, and you let out a yelp. He crawls on top of you, caging you with his body. He presses his pelvis down against your exposed cunt, and you whimper at the contact.

“No, no, no.” He stops, scared that he did something wrong, and you send him a reassuring smile. You caress his cheek with your hand, and he leans into it.

“The deal was I made you feel good, it feels kinda like the opposite right now.”

“Nope the deal was that you were in control, but the goal was still to make yourself feel good.” You pout and he can’t resist that cute face. He places a soft kiss on your lips and the pout quickly turns into a smile.

“Okay fine, but I’m in control and I’ve decided I’m on top.” You say trying to seem stern, but Sugurus effortless dom-energy is kind of hard to top.

“Alright princess, how do you want me?” You try to flip him onto his back so you can get on top, but he doesn’t move at all. He leans down his lips right beside your ear.

“You’re gonna need to tell me what you want, or you’re gonna need to be stronger if you want to manhandle me.” He teases and you want to strangle him, in mostly a good way.

“Fuck you!” You almost yells, and his face breaks into a crooked smile.

“Is that a request?” His lips still right against your ear, makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Just fucking lay on your back.” You push at his chest, still laying under him. He could easily take control and do anything he wants with you. And you wouldn’t mind one bit. But you made a deal, and he keeps his word.

He sits back up, and throws himself down beside you on his back, so you can finally get on top. Your hands move to his chest and takes a hard grip before you swing your leg over him so you’re straddling him. His cock is just touching you and you can barely think straight. But you need to, if you’re going to win this, you need to keep yourself together.

You take his cock in your hand, angling it so the tip is pushing against your cunt. You slowly sink down, he has already been inside, but the stretch is still there. You sink further down, and he fills you up in a way that makes your eyes roll back. And he’s not even halfway in.

“You need help princess?” He smirks up at you, and your eyes find his. You don’t want his help, you can do this yourself. You know you can. But he knows how much you love when he takes control, and he can barely keep himself still. You feel so fucking good, not even fully seated. He would never admit it, but he’s just as desperate as you, maybe even more. He loves the feeling of your pussy, he loves the feeling of you, all of you.

“Baby if you don’t sit down soon, I’m not gonna wait for the ten minutes to pass.” You’re torn, fuck you want to be the one taking care of him, but for him to tie you up and fuck you till you can’t walk. Is a dream too. But you won’t give up, not when he’s finally letting you be in charge.

“I can do it… I-I-I can do it. I know I can.” You whimper as you press yourself further down, moaning and gasping as he fills you even more.

“I’m waiting princess, also you only have three minutes left.” He grins and the time running out has you trying to get down faster. You lift yourself up, to fall back down. His hips snap up into you. You scream as he finally settles inside, filling you up fully. A groan leaving his lips, as he finally bottoms out. His hands move to your hips, softly caressing your skin, soothing you with his soft touches.

“So good baby, you’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you. Feels so good on my cock. Fuck baby you feel so good.” His voice is close to a whimper, and you smile to yourself. Victory.

“Fuck Sugu, you feel even better.” You’re not daring to move, wanting to adjust to his size for a second. You slowly grind down, and he groans as a whimper leaves your lips. His pelvis pressing against your clit, makes you clench around him, and another groan comes from his mouth. You’re just about to lift your hips to slam back down when he interrupts.

“Times up.” He throws you around and you barely get to blink before he’s on top. Fuck you love when he manhandles you, throwing you around and moving you like he wants. Using you for his own pleasure, but always making you cum so many times you can’t keep track.

“Aww poor baby, you thought you could be in control? You thought you could take me? You thought you could make yourself feel good without my help?” His dick is still deep in you, and you clench around him at his words. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he groans and breathes heavily.

“Do that again, and you won’t be able to walk for the next week.” He says between clenched teeth, you whimper at his words and clench around him again, and you are not sure if it was on purpose or not. Maybe a bit of both.

“That was dumb, baby.” His hips snap back and sets a brutal pace. Hammering into you, making you moan and scream as his cock hits your g-spot again and again. The tension in your body is already building, your legs shaking and a stream of sounds leaving your lips. He has you so close to coming, almost instantly, and he does it with such ease. It’s almost scary.

His arms are caging you, while his hips are pounding you into the mattress. You are clawing at his back, certain to leave marks. He doesn’t care, he kind of loves them. Making sure people know he’s yours and you’re his. His lips find your neck, biting down, drawing a scream from your lips. He sucks on the bite, making sure to leave a prominent mark.

“Fuck princess, you close? I can feel you clenching around me, trying to hold me in you. You don’t wanna let me go, huh?” He groans against your neck, and the tension building in your body is so close to snapping. You just need a little more.

“Please Sugu, just a little more… I’m so close!” You scream the last part as his pace speeds up, and one of his hands find your swollen clit. Rubbing it in rough circles, his dick continually hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Fuck baby… come, please… fuck… come for me…” He’s almost whimpering in your neck as he begs you to come. He wants to feel you come on his cock, he loves the feeling so much. He loves you so much.

His cock hits your g-spot again, and that’s all you need. Your legs shake and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You scream and clench around him, your vision going black as you spasm. It hits you like a wave, as you continue to scream. He works you through your orgasm, not slowing the pace of his hips or the circling on your clit. You keep coming, not even being able to think as he continues his torture on your body.

You gasp for air, as you finally calm down. Suguru’s biting his lip, doing anything in his power to not come right there. Fuck he is close, he can barely move without busting his load in you. But you need at least an orgasm more before he can come. His hips have slowed down, and his attack on your clit has stopped. He is barely moving, trying to hold himself together. You notice the restrain on him, and in no way is that fair. You got to come, now it’s his turn.

You move your hips to make friction on his cock. Arching your back, so your pussy can take his cock. You clench around him, on purpose this time, drawing a gasp from his lips. He bites down on your neck to try and punish you for the bratty action. You whimper but doesn’t stop. Slowly working him towards an orgasm.

“You need to come Sugu, it’s your birthday.” You whine, feeling so overstimulated from his fucking. But nothing can make you stop in this moment. He needs to feel good. It’s his birthday after all. You can’t be the only one to feel good.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” He lifts his head so he can look down at you, his eyes wild as they find yours. You can see the desperation on his face, he wants to come so bad. He just wants to make you feel good first, he’s dumb if he doesn’t understand he already did.

“Please Sugu, please, please, please. You need to feel good. Wanna make you feel good. Please Sugu.” You murmur, still working yourself on his cock. The stretch feels so good, the way his cock drags along you walls. Fuck you never want this moment to stop.

“Come on, please Sugu. I’ll do anything, just tell me what you want me to do?” You whimper, trying to convince him to come. He stares at your face for a second, before a sinister smirk appears on his face.

“Anything, huh? You would let me do anything, make you do anything? You want my cum so bad?” His voice is deep and lustful, as his eyes scan your face.

“Mmh, anything.” You nod, trying to prove how much you would do for him. Fuck you just want him to feel good too. And if it made you feel good too, then no harm done.

“Then I think I’m gonna stick to the tying you up.” You shake your head at his words, and he stops in his tracks.

“What?!” His voice is stern, but with a hint of concern.

“You’re the one who needs to feel good, not me.” You mumble, and he barely hears you.

“You don’t think I’ll enjoy seeing you tied up, completely at my mercy. Not able to do anything, but take what I give you. Oh, baby you have misunderstood something.” His lips are on yours, pressing you into the bed with his weight. His hand is in your hair, angling your face like he wants. Attacking you tongue with his own. You moan in his mouth, and he swallows it hungrily.

“You can do what you want with me, but you have to feel good yourself.” You point your finger at his face, he takes it in his own hand and presses it into the bed.

“Deal princess.” He finds you other hand with his and presses them into the bed over your head. He takes them in one hand, so his other can run down your chest and grab a boob. You moan as he rolls the nipple between his fingers, bending down so he can suck it into his mouth. You moan at the contact, and as his teeth graze the sensitive bud you wanna pull him away. But the hand holding yours in place, makes it impossible.

“Let’s get you strapped in.” He moves up so he can reach the handcuffs hanging on either side of the bed. He pulls your hand to it and closes the restrain around your wrist. He moves over to the other side and repeats the action.

“Legs too?” He looks down at you, from the position above you. You nod slowly, and a smirk grows on his face.

“Good girl.” He pats your cheek, moving down to your feet to restrain them too. He secures the other cuffs around your ankles, and you’re now completely at his mercy. Not able to do anything without his help. He loves you like this, he can do whatever he wants with you, and you can only scream his name.

“Remember our safeword?” His smile is soft as he waits for you to answer, you nod.

“No, I need you to say it, to make sure.” His gaze is serious, as he waits for you to say the simple word.

“Pineapple.” You say clearly to make sure he hears.

“Good job princess, you ready? Want me to fuck you?” You whimper at his words, and nod eagerly which draws a laugh from the man. He climbs back on the bed, pressing a knee against your core. Drawing a moan from your lips, as he bends down to catch your lips with his own. He bites your lip, and you moan into the kiss. He smiles, he glides his tongue on your bottom lip. You open your mouth as on command, and he quickly takes control of the kiss. Not that you can actually fight back.

His hand is in your hair, pulling you closer against him. His thigh hits your clit, and you moan loudly into his mouth. He swallows the sounds hungrily, pressing his thigh harder against you.

“Fuck, your moans are so hot princess.” He pulls back, letting you breathe. You try to pull him closer with your legs, but the cuffs hold you down against the bed. He turns is gaze to look at your legs, smirking as he looks back at you.

“You want something baby? You seem a little eager-, no scratch that, -desperate for me.” His hand glides down your neck, further down your stomach, to stop right above your pussy.

“I’m betting on you being soaked, am I correct?” You don’t get to answer his question before his fingers dips into you, pulling a moan from your throat. He collects your wetness on his fingers, grazing your clit on the way up. You gasp and he lifts his hand to his mouth, licking your release of his digits. He moans at the taste, keeping eye contact while he sucks on his fingers.

“You taste so fucking good princess. But now I think it’s time to fill you with my cum.” He pull his knee back so he can lay his hips between your thighs, grinding his cock against your slit. You whimper as his tip hits your clit. You pull on the handcuffs, wanting to touch him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, baby you know that’s just annoying, if you want something, ask nicely.” He says it so condescendingly you can’t help but laugh.

“Something funny, brat.” He spits the last words, this no good, you made him annoyed. But you can’t stop, you love teasing him, drawing a reaction from him.

“Oh it’s just funny you think you can make me ask nicely.” You smirk and a sinister smile plays on his lips, his arms are caging you and he lowers himself, so his lips are right outside your ear.

“Baby, I can make you do so much more than just ask nicely.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you try to press your thighs together, but the damn fucking restrains keeps your legs open.

“I’m gonna make you beg for my cock. You’re going to be a moaning mess in five minutes, I can guarantee it, you won’t be able to do anything but scream my name.” You bite your lip, trying to keep the noises in check. Fuck he can’t know how much of an effect he has on you.

“I d-don’t believe it.” You try to say with the most confidence, but it comes out more like a whimper than a challenge. But he takes the bait none the less.

“You don’t think I can baby?” He takes his phone from the bedside table, he taps on the phone a few times. He turns it around so you can look at it, it’s a timer set to 5 minutes.

“I’ll turn this on, if you beg for me before the timer ends, I win. And if you can keep strong, you win.” His voice is like poison as he whispers the bet in your ear, you nod instantly. You know you’ve got this, it’s five minutes, you can keep strong for five minutes.

“Let’s begin.” He presses start on the timer, and it’s counting down. He puts it back on the nightstand, and all his attention is on you again.

Your position is still quite vulnerable, as his rough hands slowly runs over your body. His hands reach your thighs, massaging them roughly. You try to press them together, but the damn cuffs refrain you from doing it. His thumb presses down on your clit, and you can’t help a moan from escaping. You lift your head to stare at your boyfriends’ innocent expression, he smiles. He moves back so his head is between your thighs, smiling up at you before he licks your slit. You whimper at the feeling, and his thumb continue the small circles on your clit.

His tongue moves in and out of your pussy, making you clench around it. He laps at your juices, sucking and flicking his tongue. His thumb speeds up, and you moan throwing your head back, as his tongue licks your walls. He knows what he’s doing, he always did, he always knew exactly what to do to make you come.

He eats you out like a man starving, he tongue-fucks you, moaning and groaning into your pussy. The vibration makes you scream, and he only takes it as a sign to keep going. He keeps drawing screams and moans from you, he removes his thumb so his mouth can give attention to your swollen clit. He licks it softly, and its already too much. You’re so overstimulated, but this man doesn’t seem to care. He sucks the small bud into his mouth, softly grazing it with his teeth and you scream.

You clench around air, and fuck you want him inside. You want him to fill you up, just something to soothe the ache in your core. You bite your lip as he sucks on your clit again, you pull on the handcuffs wanting to take a grip of his hair. His eyes meet yours, and you can see his mouth and jaw covered in your wetness.

He looks so fucking hot like that, between your thighs covered in you. He continues his assault on your clit, and you can feel the tension in your body building. You lift your ass from the mattress, pushing your pussy in his face, trying to get the small amount of stimulation to tip you over the edge. He presses you down back into the mattress, his hand on your stomach, keeping you where he wants you.

“Don’t interrupt me.” He snarls the noise coming deep from his throat, and you don’t dare say something back. His tongue continues lapping at your clit, and you’re almost there. You’re moaning and whimpering and Suguru knows exactly how close you are. Your heels are pressing into the mattress, and your hands are clenched into fist.

“Come for me princess.” You don’t need to be told twice, and a final lick on your clit has you coming. You scream as your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you see stars. Your legs shake and you wanna close them but to no avail. You arch your back, but he keeps you on the mattress. You whimper and scream as his tongue works you through your orgasm, sucking and lapping all your release from your poor pussy.

Your chest is heaving and you’re gasping for air, as you finally come back to earth. He lifts himself up on his elbows, your released smeared over his chin. He just grins as you look at him, a hand softly caressing your thigh.

“Good job princess, you did such a good job. I’m proud of you.” He moves up so he can kiss you, it’s soft and slow. Filled with love and affection. You can taste yourself on his lips, and his hand has moves up to hold your waist while the other is holding him up. He’s breathing heavily, his face right above your own. He sounds so fucking hot. He looks so fucking hot.

“What about you?” Your voice is small, you have been to occupied by your own pleasure, you completely forgot his.

“What about me?” He asks back, still only a few centimetres from you.

“You haven’t been feeling good.” You lock eyes with him, feeling almost guilty about the fact that you forgot about him. He laughs, a genuine, soft laugh.

“You don’t think I’ve felt good.” He flicks his fingers on your forehead, “are you okay in there? I felt fucking amazing, you make me feel so amazing, I don’t need to come to feel good.” He leans closer, his lips softly touching yours as he says.

“But if you wanna know, I was close to coming in my pants from just your taste and your moans. Don’t ever underestimate how good you make me feel.” You lift your head so you can press your lips roughly against his. He takes control instantly, making you moan into the kiss, as his tongue moves against your own.

“It seems like someone wants more, still?” He mumbles it against your lips. You moan against him, hoping that’s enough of an answer for him to take care of the ache inside you.

The timer going off interrupts you both, and you laugh. He reaches over and stops the annoying ringing tone.

“I won. I fucking won. Hehe.” You would do a victory dance if you could, but the damn cuffs.

“I guess you did princess, what do you want as reward?” You look up at him, a smiling curling your lips. He looks a happy, but a bit on edge, you know how much he hates to lose.

“I want you...” Your voice is small, and you can barely get the words out.

“You’re gonna need to be more specific baby.” He smirks, know exactly how much this affects you, and he know exactly what you want. He just wanna hear you say it.

“Fuck you.” You snap at him, and his smirk only grows wider.

“As you wish.” He moves his hips between your legs, pressing the head of his cock against you pussy. He doesn’t waste time and he quickly push into you. There is no resistance this time, and he easily bottoms out. You moan and clench around him, and he groans as you do.

“Fuck your pussy feels good baby, so fucking wet for me.” He mumbles, breathing heavily as he adjusts to the feeling of being inside you.

“Please move.” You beg and he whimpers into your neck as you clench around him, your pussy begging for some kind of friction. He moves, pulling almost all the way out before pounding back into you. You moan and he slowly pulls out again, dragging his cock against your walls.

He sets a rough pace, pumping into you. Hitting your spot again and again, your eyes roll back, and your vision goes blurry. He feels so fucking good, his cock feels so damn good. And he fucking knows how to use it. His hips are slamming on your pelvis, and the constant friction on your clit, from the way his pelvis rubs against you, has you fucking close again.

This man has a power over you, a power that makes you so damn weak. So damn quick. A whimper leaves his lips, and you know he’s close to. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him down, his lips meet yours. The kiss is desperate, and it’s kind of hard to concentrate on it. While his cock is beating your pussy, trying to make you a mess. You know he wasn’t kidding when he said you wouldn’t walk for a week. You’re not going to be able to walk at all.

“Please come in me Sugu, fuck, fuck, fuck, please, please, please, come, fuck, please come in me.” You’re a moaning mess, and Suguru is way too close to deny you your reward again.

“Only if you come with me.” His voice is rough, and his rhythm is getting sloppy, you know he can’t last much longer.

“Okay... FUCK! Okay, deal, deal, just please…” Your nails are scratching his neck, leaving prominent marks. His hand moves down to circle your clit, his hand is brutal. He doesn’t care about anything but your high, he needs you to come, before he even thinks of himself. But he can’t hold it in much longer. He needs your release.

He grinds his hips against your pussy, and the friction on your clit, makes you come immediately. You scream and claw at his back, whimpering and moaning as you squeeze around his cock. He lets himself go, and his cum paints your walls white. He groans and whimpers as his head is buried in the crook of your neck. He is pressing his pelvis against you, enjoying the moment of bliss as your pussy spasms and he continue to fill you up.

He lets his weight fall on you, relaxing into your touch. You softly scratch his back, barely able to keep your eyes open. He snuggles closer to you, his arms wrapping around your torso. His dick is still stretching you out, he may have a tiny bit of a breeding kink, with the way he loves to fill you with everything he’s got.

The feeling of him all around you, is the feeling of home. You feel so safe in his arms, and you could drift off to dreamland.

An alarm goes off, his high pitched and you both groan in unison.

“Don’t wanna get up.” He mumbles against your skin, and you laugh softly.

“If there’s a fire we need to get up.” You try to push him off you, but he’s too damn strong.

“Sugu, fire. Up. Now.” He groans but slowly gets up, he takes a deep breath and his face contracts in a grimace.

“It’s smell like the thing burning is in here.” You let out a yelp, desperately trying to get up.

“Fuck, no, no, no, the damn croissants, I made you croissants. They’re in the oven. I… fuck!” You stand up, but your legs immediately give out. Sugurus’ arms catch you and a soft expression is painting his features.

“You’re so cute baby, let me take care of it.” He makes you sit down in the bed and leaves to take care of the mess you arranged. Fuck you’re dumb sometimes, but to be honest, it’s all Sugurus fault. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have been distracted.

Maybe the end is a little rushed, but I'm really happy about it turned out. So I hope you liked it <3

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afictionaladventure16 · 27 days

Text

A Little Unsteady (Tim Bradford x Foster!Teen!Reader)

Pt. 2

The Rookie Masterlist

Word Count: 4,162

Warnings: Mentions Sexual assault and abuse.

Authors Note: Requests for this fic and The rookie are open!

You woke up to the sound of birds chirping, and your heart leaped into your throat.

“Oh no,” you jolted out of bed and quickly got dressed. “Fuuuck!” you muttered as you rushed to put your shoes on. Somehow the bed was too comfortable and you slept through both alarms, meaning you now only had five minutes to get to school. Five minutes to do your twenty-minute walk, which is now probably longer since you are further away.

You ran out of the room and ran into the living room, “Whoa! Good morning to you too! Where are you going in such a rush?” Tim asked as he placed his coffee mug on the kitchen counter before walking over to you. Kojo quickly got up from his spot on his bed and began following you.

“I’m going to be late for school!” You exclaimed.

“Y/N”

“Officer Bradford, I don’t have time for this, I gotta find my backpack and go to school. I have midterms com-”

“Y/N, just hold on a minute.” Tim followed you as you walked back over to your room, Kojo trailing behind you, you looked around for your backpack.

“I don’t have a minute,” you groaned in annoyance, “did I leave a backpack in your car?”

Tim sighed, “Y/N, your backpack is in the car, I’m driving you to school and breakfast is ready. Now, go brush your hair and put on shoes that match and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“I-I can walk.”

“I’m not letting you walk to school, especially when it’s ten miles away. You’re going to have a proper breakfast and I’ll drive you to school afterward.” Tim began leading you to the bathroom, where you could properly get ready for the day. “But don’t take too long because classes start within an hour.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t take long.”

Tim chuckled and walked back to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but laugh at the scene you had just caused, the way Kojo followed you around like a lost puppy. He was loving it, loving the noise inside his home and the way things lit up. There was life and somehow he found himself being okay with this being a norm.

Tim didn’t sleep much the night prior, he spent most of his time tossing and turning, weighing out his options. There was one in particular that was heavy on his mind, one that he felt like it was the best for not just you, but him as well. He wasn’t even sure where to start, but he knew that when he spoke to Sasha today he would find out more.

His mind wondered if it could be possible to make you stay at his place for a little longer, Maybe something long-term, something safer and reliable until you went to college.

He wasn’t sure how you would feel about the idea, but he knew he did not want to bring it up until he had spoken to Sasha. Once he was sure it would be possible then he would bring up the idea to you. For now, he had to remain quiet.

Five minutes later you came back out to the kitchen, your hair a little more tame and your shoes now matched. “Toast?” Tim asked as he placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of you.

“Please,” you said as you began to eat the food in front of you.

Tim placed a piece of toast on your plate. He leaned against the counter as he drank his coffee.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” you commented.

“I’m gonna be picking you up after school, you can leave your things here while you’re at school.” You gave him a nod, “I’ll give Sasha a call and see what we can do for you, alright?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you sighed. “She’ll just be sending me to another home and we’ll be doing the same thing over and over again.” You began, pushing around the food on your plate with your fork.

“Who knows, maybe this time it’ll be different.”

“Didn’t take you as an optimist,” you retorted.

Tim rolled his eyes, “we should get going if you don’t want to be late.”

“You’re right,” you got up from your spot and followed Tim out to the car.

Throughout the drive to school, you rummaged through your backpack, panic was beginning to settle in when you couldn’t see the essay you had worked on the day before within your folder. “Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.

“I Uh-” You sighed in defeat, as you zipped your backpack up, “I lost my paper that I’m supposed to turn in today during fourth period.”

“Where’d you last see it?”

You remained silent, trying your best to think back on when you last saw it. You remembered placing it in your duffel before moving spots, you had been working on it when you decided on moving spots. That was when Tim saw you. “Fuck,” you groaned, “it’s back inside my duffel.”

“Wanna go back and grab it?” Tim offered.

“No, I can’t be late to my first period, we have a test and if I’m even late by a second I get docked by five points.”

“It’s just five points,” Tim commented.

“And if I miss a question it’s another five points, I can’t take those chances.”

Tim couldn’t help but notice how you were being so hard on yourself, especially when it came to your schoolwork. On one hand, he was impressed with how serious you were on your school work given what you were going through, but on the other, it felt like you were being too hard on yourself.

“It’s fine, I’ll have to take the L.”

“Take the L?”

“Take the loss?” you looked at him in disbelief, “You’ve never heard of that term?”

“I don’t know if it’s obvious but I don’t spend my time learning all the new terms you kids make up almost every single day.”

“The grey hairs make it a little bit obvious,” you muttered to yourself.

“I do not have grey hairs!” Tim glanced at himself in the rearview mirror.

You smirked, “Made you look.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and he pulled into the school drop-off lot, “Alright, I’ll be here at three to pick you up.”

“You know you don’t have to,” you said as you got out of the car.

“And I said I would make sure to keep you safe. So, meet me here at three, alright?”

You gave him a nod before closing the car door and making your way inside. Tim made sure you made it inside, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, it was more so that it was a habit of his. To wait until the person that he dropped off got safe inside.

Once Tim made it home, he got ready for his daily run with Kojo. It was like clockwork, but this time he started it late since he had to drop you off. He wasn’t complaining, it was just something he had to adjust to. Today he decided to walk back home instead, but when they were almost home, Kojo decided he had enough.

“Get up, Boot! “Quit” is a four-letter word. Do you hear me? Failure is not an option,” Tim yelled at Kojo, but the dog just stared at him. Part of Tim missed having Lucy as a boot, but he’d deny it if someone asked. Tim sighed, “Oh, come on, man. We’re almost home.” Tim felt his phone buzz, and he quickly took it out to find a message from Angela. He smirked to himself, she was just the person he was about to call.

“Let’s go,” Kojo was quick to get up.

Back at the house, Tim walked into the spare bedroom. “It feels wrong doing this,” he whispered to himself as he looked around. He didn’t have to look for long because the papers you had been looking for were on top of your duffle bag. He grabbed the papers and made his way out of the house. He texted Angela that he was on his way, but had to make a quick pit stop.

He was thankful that the school was on the way to where Angela was, He walked into the front office of the school.

“Hello, can I help you with something?” An older lady behind the counter said with a wide smile.

“Yes, I am here to drop off something for Y/N L/N.”

“Sure, let me just see what class she is in, right now. Give me one second, hon.”

Tim waited as the receptionist searched through her computer. “Looks like she’s in biology right now, I’ll just call the classroom and have Mr. Gomez send her up.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Tim walks over to sit down on one of the chairs nearby. He waited for a while until he heard footsteps nearing.

“Morning, Ms. June,” He heard your voice. “I was told to come see you?”

“Good morning, Darling. Yes, there is a handsome gentleman here to see you.” She gestured to the direction in which Tim was sitting.

You quickly turned to the direction she had gestured at, confused to see Tim sitting there. Your heart began to race, and your mind started jumping to conclusions. Was this it? Was this the moment that someone told you that your mom was dead? “What happened?” you asked.

“Nothing happened, I only came back here to give you this,” he handed you a few pieces of paper.

You couldn’t help but smile, “my paper!” you exclaimed. “T-Thank you!” You looked at him in disbelief, “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

` “Just promise me this paper is at least B-worthy.”

“Given that I spent 10 hours over the weekend just editing it, I’m hoping it is A worthy.”

“10 Hours?” you shrugged, “Alright, well, get back to class, would hate to have you miss anything important, Nerd.”

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks, Officer Bradford.”

Tim sighed, “How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Tim?” You rolled your eyes and walked back to class. You could recall the first time Tim had asked you to stop calling you Officer Bradford, it was one of the first times he had done a wellness check shortly after Rachel had left. If you were honest, you thought once Rachel left that he would have forgotten about you. So, you were surprised to see him at the door that evening.

– Then –

It had been a week since Rachel left, and her goodbye was bittersweet. Part of you wanted to beg her to stay or to even take you with her, but you withheld your tongue. Thankful for all the things she had done for you and hopeful that she could do the same for other kids in New York.

Now as you sat on the bed in your bedroom, which was also a laundry room, you began to wonder if anyone would ever care for you the way Rachel did.

You could hear muffled voices coming from outside, you walked over to the window to get a glance outside. You could see a cop car parked on the side of the street, something within you knew that you had to go see who was outside.

Tim walked up the steps, although his heart was still aching about Rachel leaving, he couldn’t get rid of this feeling that he needed a check-up on Y/N. He had been informed that she had been taken to a new foster home only a week ago and he hoped this home was better than the last.

He knocked on the door only to be greeted seconds later by an older-looking man with a beer in his hand. “Can I help you?”

“Good afternoon, I’m just doing a welfare check on Y/N.”

“Well, She’s fine, thanks for checking,” the man began to close the door.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m gonna have to hear it from her that’s fine,” Tim insisted as he placed his foot in between the door to stop it from closing.

The man rolled his eyes, letting out a deep sigh, “She’s not home,” he shrugged.

Tim smirked as he spotted Y/N peaking around the corner from behind the man, “Hey, Y/N, it’s me, Officer Bradford!” The man quickly turned around, glaring at the young girl behind her. Tim was quick to see the fear appear in her eyes, he knew right then and there that he had to get her out of this house. “Mind if we talk for a bit outside?”

The man stepped aside giving Y/N the space she needed to walk outside. The door was quickly closed behind her, “How are you?”

“Peachy,” you stated as you sat down on the steps. Tim followed your lead but decided standing would be best.

He scanned your body, noticing newly formed bruises on your neck and arms. He knew the ones of your arms were from defending yourself. He clenched his jaw in anger, letting out a deep sigh, “How long have they been hurting you?”

You crossed your arms, trying to hide the bruises. “At this point, I think I deserve it. Sometimes I just don’t know when to shut up.”

“No one deserves it, especially a kid.”

“It started yesterday,” you began, “It was just once, otherwise they’ve been really ki-”

“Don’t defend them, especially when the man himself didn’t even want to call you to the door for a welfare check. I’m getting you out of here,” Tim stated.

“To go where? Another home with the same result?” You shook your head, “I’m better off here.”

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but one night in the shelter won’t be too bad.”

You scoffed, “Then I’ll have all my things taken from me.”

“If that’s what you are worried about then you can leave your things with me and take what is essential,” Tim offered. He hated that this was his only option for you, but it was better than staying another night in this home. He wanted to prevent something from happening to you again.

You let out a defeated sigh, “you’d do that?”

“I’ll even pick you up from the shelter in the morning and take you to school,” Tim could see that you were thinking it over. He stood there hoping that you would take the offer.

“Fine.” Tim gave you a soft smile before ordering you to go get your things. He had called in his findings and asked for a backup. Nolan had arrived minutes later, arresting your foster dad for child abuse.

You watched as Nolan put your foster dad in the back of the shop, “is that everything?” Tim asked.

You had felt like you were forgetting something, “Um,” you began as you quickly rummaged through your duffel. “Fuck!” you dropped the duffel and ran back inside the home. You ran inside the room you had been staying in, quickly spotting the tan-colored leg, of a stuffed animal, under the bed. You grabbed it and ran back outside, earning a raised eyebrow from Tim, “I need you to keep him safe,” you stated as you handed him to Tim.

“A stuffed Bunny?” Tim questioned as he took the bunny from you. You gave him a pleading look and Tim quickly understood, “I’ll keep him safe.” Tim gestured for you to follow him to his truck, Tim had contacted your caseworker, while you were packing, who, in turn, asked Tim to take you to the shelter. In other circumstances, Tim would have probably said no, that he had other things to do but that wasn’t the case this time. Tim wanted to take you to the shelter. He needed to make sure you were safe and from there on, he did.

– Now –

“This is the kid you’ve been checking up the past couple of months, right?” Angela asked as she looked at herself in the mirror. Tim had come over to the bridal shop to help Angela pick a dress and frankly, he needed advice right now.

“Yeah, and I’m waiting on a call from her caseworker and… I think I want to foster her. Like, is it crazy to want to foster her?”

Angela shrugged, “Maybe, but maybe it’s because you think you should’ve had a kid by now so you’re in this mindset of wanting to be some type of father figure to something.” Tim looked at Angela dumbfounded, “or maybe it’s just crazy,” she added with a smile.

“So, should I do it?” Tim asked.

Angela sat down beside Tim, “You want my honest opinion?” he nodded, “I think you should. I feel like this will be good for you and who knows, maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.”

Tim smiled, “Thanks, Angela.”

Angela smiled, “Now be honest, you sure this dress doesn’t make my belly look big?” Tim rolled his eyes and laughed.

It didn’t take long after for Angela to find a dress she liked and once she did they were out of there. She insisted on bringing over cake samples later for him to help her decide, part of Tim thinks she used it as an excuse to just meet you and get to know you a little better. Yet, Tim didn’t say no, because the other part of him wouldn’t turn down cake if it was offered.

Once Tim had left the Bridal shop, he decided to give your caseworker a call, tired of waiting on her.

The phone rang a few times before she picked up, “Hello?”

“Hey, Sasha, it’s Tim!”

“Oh, Tim! Hey! I am so sorry, I meant to call you back right away I just got caught up on some stuff”

“It’s alright, don’t have to explain. I understand how hectic it can be.”

Sasha smiled through the phone, “What can I help you with?”

“Well, like I said in the message, I found Y/N last night and she’d been living under a bridge the past week. So, I took her in for the night and now I’m wondering if I can foster her. I know there's probably a lot of paperwork that needs to be done an-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sasha interrupted, “I think it’s best if she stays with you, I’ll talk to a judge and see if we can get you emergency custody until I can get started on the paperwork. At this point, I have no other place for her to go.”

Tim let out a relieved sigh, there was hope, “Anyway I can get the rest of her stuff from her previous foster parents? I know she carries around this stuffed bunny and… well it’s probably not important.”

Sasha had never noticed the bunny, but then, she never thought to notice. “Y-yeah, I can send you the address and notify them that you’ll be there soon to pick up her things.”

“Another thing, Um- Y/N mentioned that her foster father he um- he watched her shower a few times.”

Sasha took in a deep breath, “that’s heavy.”

“Yeah, look, if it were up to me this man would be behind bars.”

“I’ll call it in, get him off the foster list, and see if we can get him convicted.”

Tim sighed, “Alright,” if it were up to him, the man would be six feet underground by now. But it wasn’t up to him.

“I’ll text you the address right now, and maybe it’s best if you have someone else with you when you go.”

Tim chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’m angry but not stupid, Sasha.” Sasha said her goodbyes. It was only a minute after when Tim got an address sent to his phone.

It didn’t take Tim long to get to your foster parent’s home. Once he had gotten out of his truck a man waited on the porch for him, “Hey,” Tim said coldly.

“I assume you’re Tim,” the man said in a rough voice, Tim gave him a nod. “All her shit is in this bag,” the man said as he gestured to the garbage bag that was leaning against the wall of the house.

Tim walked over to the bag and began rummaging through it, “um, there’s this stuffed bunny-”

“I threw it out, she’s too old to be holding on to shit like that,” he scoffed.

Tim rolled his eyes, “Come on, man. It’s more than that to her.”

“Well, if you’re gonna be such a bitch about it, it’s in the trash up front.” The man gestured to the pile of trash that was waiting to be picked up. Tim felt his blood boil, but he had to control his anger. The last thing he needed was to lose his cool, not only would he potentially lose his job, but he could lose the opportunity to give you a safe home.

Tim gave the man a nod, “Thanks,” he picked up the bag, he then walked over to his truck, and placed the bag in the backseat before walking over to the trash to search for the bunny.

“Alright, Mr. Hops,” he muttered to himself, “if you could hop on out that would save me a whole lot of time.” After pushing aside a bag or two, he spotted Mr. Hops with ease. “Ah-ha!” Tim smiled to himself as he grabbed the bunny and walked over to his truck.

Tim drove back home to put your things in your room. Well, the guest room, which is now your room. Tim couldn’t believe it when he thought, that his guest room was no longer a guest room, but your room. Tim found himself excited for what was to come, hopeful that you would be excited too. Yet, he had this fear within him that you wouldn’t be excited.

He glanced at his watch, “fuck!” he muttered as he realized the time. Running out of the house and to his truck, he was going to be late to pick you up and he didn’t want to risk you leaving, thinking that he would never show. Tim parked in the pick-up area at the high school, watching as kids walked out of the gates. He spotted you quickly, smiling as you were already making your way to the truck.

“Hey!” Tim exclaimed as you hopped into the truck, quickly putting on your seatbelt. “How was school?”

You shrugged, “‘s alright, I guess.” you sighed, “Any luck with Sasha?” You had been anxious about it all day, just wanting to get it over with, were you going to spend the night at the shelter or another shitty foster home?

Tim nodded as he drove away from the school, “I did actually. We uh- found you a foster home and they’re really excited to take you in.”

“Same old story,” you rolled your eyes.

“They actually requested for me to take your things straight over so you could go straight to their house right after school,” Tim stated, he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face.

“Jesus, they sound… controlling.”

Tim shrugged, “who knows, maybe they won’t be that bad.”

“What about my things from my other fos-”

“I already picked up your things from there,” Tim interrupted.

“Oh,” you whispered. You didn’t know why you felt sad that Tim was so quick with his responses, so quick to find you a new foster home. Part of you liked staying with Tim, even if it had been one night, it had been the safest you felt in months, maybe even years.

“Here we go,” Tim stated, you felt the truck go up a driveway, and you looked out to see where he had taken you. You quickly looked over at Tim with a confused expression.

“W-wait, I’m confused, I thought you said you were taking me to-”

“I did,” Tim interrupted.

“But this is your house,” you stated.

Tim nodded, “I spoke to Sasha and I told her that I think it’s best if you stayed with me for the time being and she agreed.” Tim couldn’t help but smile as your face lit up.

“You’re going to foster me?”

“Yes, if that’s okay with you, of course, if not I can call-”

“No! I mean, yes! This is perfectly fine with me!” You smiled from ear to ear, “thank you, Tim.”

Tim smiled, “Of course,” he cleared his throat, ”Now how about we get inside so you can unpack and I’m thinking pizza tonight?” You weren’t going to argue with his ideas, you followed him inside and went straight to your room. Staying with Tim was probably the last thing you thought would happen, but you were happy that you were, but somehow you felt like this was only the beginning of something.

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