#also the perfect set up since you can have it start on tuesday with the rookie then wednesday night part two with abbott and thursday is 911 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year ago

Text

Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night

Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 10k words (.....yes. 10k. i know)

summary: You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.

a/n: this is pure smut. honestly pure smut. 18+ i will now list all the things that you have to look out for. first and foremost i have NEVER written smut before dont kill me pls im trying my best. ok so

name kink, rank kink, choking, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyve had the conversation nothing bad will happen), oral sex!fem receiving, dom bradley, some "good girl" because i am a sucker for that, in general a lot of talking because bradley is A TALKER!!!!!!, a little strength kink? is that a thing? and a shit ton of begging

this can be read as a stand-alone most definitely, but is set in the same universe as "Tuesday Night" and “Not A Coincidence” and "Take Me On A Joyride" so maybe give those a read too?

top gun masterlist

You were behind the bar this evening, a rag in your hands as you wiped down the sticky wooden top for the bazillionth time and hummed along to the music coming from the jukebox. You were behind the bar most evenings, pouring beer and rum and whiskey and mixing cocktails (occasionally taking some sips of your own), smiling and laughing and flirting with customers left and right.

For the past few months now, the most regular of those costumers had been the Dagger squad.

They'd shown up here one random evening and hadn't left since. And it didn't seem like any of them would any time soon.

Not that you wanted them to, oh no. You had grown so close in so little time that it was scary at this point.

"Settle a bet for us, Junior."

Jake slid up to the bar as if it was second nature, putting an empty bottle of beer in front of him and resting one elbow next to it. You looked up at him and smiled, threw your rag over your shoulder and grabbed the bottle, condensation dripping down onto your fingertips. Rooster came up right behind him and your smile deepened even further.

"Hit me, Bagman", you challenged, set two full bottles on the bar top and then rested your forearms against the edge.

Jake grinned at you as he raised his beer in a toast.

"If you had to get with one of us tonight, who'd you get with?"

You didn't even flinch.

"Bradshaw", you said, quick like a shot, and watched Jake's face fall like he'd expected a different answer with just a tiny bit of amusement. You glanced at Rooster, who had already been looking at you, and whose only reaction to the fact that you were literally talking about sleeping with him was a small quirk of his lips.

"Bradshaw? Are you kidding? You- I'll give you a second to think about it, Junior. Don't you wanna think about it for a second?", Jake asked, regaining his facade, letting a tinge of his accent slip as he leaned in and winked at you. "You know, actually think about it. Imagine it. Picture it. Visualise it."

You decided to give him the satisfaction. So you pushed back from the bar top, crossed your arms, raised your eyebrows and eyed the two of them up and down - just because you could, just for the fun of it. Jake was in his usual jeans and shirt, leaning in with a self-assured grin and his hand wrapped around his beer bottle. Bradley was wearing one of those Hawaiian shirts that fit snugly on his bicep, his sunglasses tucked into the collar of the white top underneath, hair on the practically perfect side of unruly and his eyes fixed on yours so intensely that you had to bite down on your tongue for a moment there.

You counted to five.

"Bradshaw", you said again, dropped your arms and grabbed the rag from your shoulder. Jake's lips parted and a betrayed sort of gasp left his mouth before he started complaining - you shook your head and stepped over to the next customer and only allowed yourself to grin when you'd turned away, out of his sight.

You wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

You still didn't know whether to be surprised at this "bet" the both of them had made. You were pretty sure anyway that Jake had been the driving force in that. You knew the two of them well enough by now to not only be aware of their.... you could only call it a rivalry, really, but also of Jake's weird, warped sense of mischief. Maybe he had some narcissism problem or maybe some old trauma response. Who cared? Not you. It made for entertainment every night you were behind the bar. And also every night you were in front of the bar, drinking and dancing with the squad. You loved him, you really did. But definitely not enough to not put a stop to his ego whenever you could.

And if that way was by flaunting how very platonically you felt about him (because he was a self-named womanizer and couldn't understand how anyone could possibly not be attracted to him), you would.

...

It was 2am when Penny told you to pack your things and go. Most of the bar was empty already, except for three or four small groups of people, but those she could manage alone. Usually, maybe, you'd have declined, but tonight....

Well.

Jake had found someone to hook up with after his earlier disappointment and the rest of the squad had left at some point during the last hour too - the rest of the squad except for a particular pornstache guy.

Rooster had said goodbye to Fanboy and Payback ten minutes ago, had assured them he didn't need a ride home, he'd order another drink and then take an uber, had sat down on a bar stool, nursed his beer and watched you clean up and then pack your things. You'd sneaked glances at him now and then, so you knew that he'd watched you.

When you stepped out from behind the bar, he sat up and followed you out of the Hard Deck wordlessly. Armed with a purse, fumbling for your car keys, fighting down the smile on your lips and the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, you took a second outside to close your eyes and breathe in the mild evening air.

Then two arms sneaked around your waist. You let out a sigh as warm breath hit your neck.

"So you'd rather get with me than Bagman, hm, Junior?"

You chuckled, pushing back a little, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax for the first time tonight.

"I think you know very well that I'd rather get with you than Bagman, Rooster", you muttered, running your hands up his, up his arms, up naked skin until you could slide your fingertips underneath his shirt, up his shoulders... "I'd rather get with you than anyone."

He pressed a kiss right below your earlobe, bit down softly on the same patch of skin, soothed it again with a kiss.

"Oh, I know", he laughed quietly into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You settled even further into his arms. "I'd rather get with you than Bagman, too."

You had to laugh as well - the image of Hangman and Rooster was truly funny. But it was difficult to keep laughing when Bradley pressed more and more kisses to your neck, trailing a line of them down to the hemline of your shirt, nuzzling his nose in there when he couldn't go further. You tilted your head back a little to rest it against his shoulder, a pleasant flush rising up within - a comfortable warmth, the knowledge that you were safe, secure, protected. The way he always made you feel.

"Just to be clear - I do get to get with you tonight, right?", you asked, a grin on your lips because you knew the answer very, very well. Rooster chuckled into your ear and let out a hum.

"What do you think?", he muttered, one last, open-mouthed kiss pressed against your skin before he pulled away, pulled at your hand to twirl you around, pulled a squeal from your lips, one that conjured a smile on his face every time. "Take me home?"

...

The ride home was silent except for the radio in the background, but you were pretty much tuning that out. The steering wheel was sturdy in your hands, the night lights bright and blinding and your concentration on the streets and the car was waning ever so slowly, ever so steadily because Rooster's hand was slowly, steadily inching up your thigh. He'd put it innocently just above your knee when you'd strapped yourself in, his thumb sweeping in circles over the fabric of your jeans, but by now he'd brushed so far up that you were finding it hard to direct your thoughts back to driving.

Luckily, the drive back home only took ten minutes.

You weren't sure you'd have survived even a second more. He squeezed your thigh one last time as you turned the ignition off, then unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and got out and you were left alone in pure silence for exactly two seconds. You took a deep breath in and out. One day, and you knew that, Bradley would be the death of you. He could get you all riled up with so very little that you felt like you were going mad sometimes. In a very good way, of course.

And just as you were lamenting on the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, on the images your brain conjured whenever you were close to him, whenever you were touching him, whenever-

"Madam", Rooster smiled, leaning one arm on the opened car door and reaching the other hand out for you to take. "Would you do me the honours?"

You could only shake your head and grin at him, giddiness making you squirm in your seat as you pulled your hands away from the steering wheel and put one of them in his.

"I could never deny you any of your wishes, kind sir", you said, allowing him to pull you out of the car and into his arms instead. He hugged you close, tilted his head down to nuzzle your nose with his - you had to put your head back to be able to look into his eyes when you stood this close in front of him, nevermind kissing him.

"Really?", he smiled, his fingertips dancing along your side, hooking into your belt loops, pulling your hips flush to his. You grabbed at his biceps to steady yourself. Or maybe just because you could. "Any of my wishes?"

You let out a sort of agreeable hum and grinned up at him.

"Whatever you want", you nodded.

It was the truth, simple and just. You'd do anything. You'd let him do anything. You trusted him like you'd never trusted anyone before and up until now, you'd only ever been rewarded for putting that kind of trust in him. Something about this felt right. Something about him felt right.

"What if I wanted to spend the rest of the night between your legs?", he muttered, eyes flicking down to your lips as your breath hitched.

"Well", you whispered, because whispering was the only thing you still knew how to do. "As I said, I won't deny you anything."

His eyes met yours and his lip quirked up and then, before you could do anything more, he'd dropped down, wrapped an arm around your legs and hauled you up. You let out a gasp and crossed your arms behind his neck in reflex, a soft, shocked "Rooster!" falling from your lips. Bradley only chuckled, closed the car door with his hip and started carrying you to your front door with seemingly no problem whatsoever.

Gods. Sometimes you forgot just how strong he really was.

But then, in moments like these, he picked you up and threw you onto your bed or pushed you up against a wall and you remembered. And you felt that sting in your stomach that had you press your legs together every time.

Now you didn't even have to remember. Now you were dangling safely from his arms, your hands linked behind his neck, your fingertips buried in his hair, your eyes wide as you watched him, as you tried to steady your irregular breathing because shit, this was happening. This was happening like it had been happening for over three weeks now.

He sat you down carefully in front of the door, but you were in such a trance that you needed to take a moment (or two or three) to stare at him, at this man, this fairytale prince, this god. Your man, your fairytale prince, your god.

"You need to unlock the door, honey", he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning you so you were facing the door, his chest pressed to your back, his breath fanning the exposed skin of your neck and right, right, right, the door! The door. The lock. The key. The key in your purse! That key. The key for your door. Right. Key, key, key.... Where the hell was that goddamn key? You were sure it was somewhere there in your purse. You'd put it in there like you always put it in there. Key, Key, Rooster, Rooster's arms around you, Rooster's hands brushing over your skin, Rooster's breath on your ear, Rooster between your legs, Rooster- Key! Key, key, key---

There.

At the very bottom of your purse, finally! There it was. You pulled it out with an almost triumphant sound, unlocked your door to Rooster's soft laughter behind you and stumbled into the dark hallway in a half-intoxicated way that shouldn't have been possible because you hadn't drunk anything tonight.

You threw your purse to the side and switched on the light and turned to Rooster just in time for him to have closed the door behind him and reached for you, his hands on your hips - so big, splayed so wide, his fingers so long - crowding you against the wall, his breath fanning over your mouth and then, finally, his lips on yours.

For the first time today, you were kissing him. He was so wide, so tall, so huge, everywhere all around you, his arms, his hands, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his chin and his cheeks and his lips and his hair. Your hands sunk into that hair, tugging at the roots and grabbing his head as though your life depended on it, depended on keeping him safely, steadily right on front of you, right here, pushing you against the wall and leaving you practically no room to breathe, to touch, to feel anything other than him.

You wanted him.

With every fibre of your body, your soul, every particle, every cell, you wanted him. You wanted him everywhere all at once and you wanted him now.

So you bit down on his lip and allowed his tongue in and brushed your hands down his shoulders, down his chest to pull off that god-awful Hawaiian shirt that you admittedly found very attractive, but that was so incredibly, annoyingly in the way right now. You tugged it off his chest and down his arms and didn't care when it fell to the floor - that was where it should be, that was where it belonged.

You reached for the top then, for his waist to brush your fingertips below its hem, pushed it up, up, up until you could feel bare skin, washboard abs against your palms. That satisfied you for a moment - for a moment of running your fingers along the sharp edges of his stomach, for a moment of feeling his body heat, for a moment of being closer.

Luckily, Rooster had always been quite in-tune with you. He noticed the very second that your satisfaction turned to impatience, that your roaming, wandering hands weren't exploring, weren't enjoying anymore but were searching, longing for more - for more skin to touch, more, more, more.

He pulled away from your lips to get rid of his top, leaving you a panting, wide-eyed mess and by god, he'd only just gotten started. He hadn't even touched you. How were you already so wound up?

You blamed the fact that you'd had to stare at him from a distance for the past five days (you'd had late night shifts, he'd had early training days) and decided not to think about it further.

Especially not as his top joined his shirt on the floor, as he looked up at you with red smudged on his chin, kiss-swollen lips and unruly hair. His chest was heaving, his breath coming shorter than usual and his pupils had grown so dark you had to swallow hard.

Without thinking, you reached out and tried to wipe your lipstick off his skin.

That made him grin a little.

"Rooster?", you muttered, looking him right in the eyes. He let out a hum as he stared, a bit lost in thought it seemed and still quite shamelessly, only further at your lips. "Either take me to the bedroom or take a step back so I can get on my knees."

He let out a chuckle then and met your eyes, digging his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you a few inches away from the wall.

"I think you may have forgot something, honey", he said. "What about that wish I made?"

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to let your imagination run wild.

Rooster only grinned, and it seemed that your expression showed him just how much you didn't mind his wish at all, because he reached around you, grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, so effortlessly that it made you blush a little. You didn't even have to hold onto him, only had to wrap your legs loosely around his hips as he carried you through the hallway and into the bedroom.

That allowed you to focus all of your attention on pressing your lips to his skin.

He was warm. So warm. You trailed your lips all over his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, his bicep, and then, when you couldn't go any further down, Rooster had already found the light switch in your room and was dropping you onto your bed, pulling a surprised gasp from you.

The mattress was soft and bouncy as you landed on it, heat in your cheeks and your throat tightening at the sight in front of you - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw standing at the foot of of your bed, half-naked, sweaty, breathing heavy and looking down at you like he was a predator and you were his prey, like he wanted to devour you whole.

Which he did.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows at the same time that he advanced - pounding on you, almost, with a grin on his lips that set ablaze the slumbering flame in your abdomen. You didn't know which one of you got rid of your shirt, only that a few seconds later his lips were on yours, his hands reaching for your bra clasp and your shirt discarded somewhere on your floor.

You breathed hard against his mouth as his fingertips brushed along your back, along your bra, then slowly slid it off your shoulders, down your arms...

Cold air hit your breasts just as Rooster pulled away from you to fling your bra away to join your shirt on the floor, leaving you cold and panting, your eyes closing and opening again and staring at him as he stared at you, as he admired you, all bare, soft skin right there, right in front of him, just for him and nobody else.

You felt his palms against your ribcage then, pushing you down onto your back, onto the mattress, your breath hitching and your eyes closing in anticipation. He dropped a kiss onto your collarbone. Another just above your cleavage. Another onto the top of your breasts. His thumbs brushed right below them.

You wanted more. You always wanted more. You needed more.

But he was just trailing kisses along your breasts, never lingering for long enough, never biting or sucking or licking and as much as you were enjoying this... You needed more.

"Rooster", you sighed, dragging your hands through his hair because you needed more. He hummed against your skin. You could feel the vibration all over. "Roos, please."

He grinned - against your skin at first, before he looked up and right at you. "What was that?"

You bit down on your lip. God damn him. He always did this. Every single time, he did this. And the worst part was: You didn't even mind. You didn't mind begging, you didn't mind pleading, you didn't mind doing so much of it that you couldn't do, couldn't say anything else anymore. So you did just that.

"Please", you repeated, a little breathlessly. Rooster's grin widened.

And then he pulled away completely.

You could have screamed. You honestly thought, just for a second, that he would leave you lying there - panting and begging for him, with a bare chest and arousal heating up every part of you. But of course not. Of course not. This was Bradley fucking Bradshaw. He didn't leave you unsatisfied.

No.

Rooster got up from the bed only to grab you by the waist, to pull you down to the edge and kneel down on the floor. You swallowed hard. He fiddled with your shoes first, loosening the laces and taking them off, tugging down your socks and your pants and oh dear lord, you couldn't concentrate on anything he was doing.

He was kneeling in front of your bed. You bit back a moan from that alone.

Any and all forms of Bradley Bradshaw were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but to you, nothing would ever top the sight of him on his knees for you.

You tuned back in when your jeans thumped to the floor, when his fingertips danced softly, teasingly up your calves, up your knees, up your thighs. You clenched your jaw when he reached your underwear, when his eyes met yours again in one final reassurance that this was what the both of you wanted, and then he pulled it down your legs too and hooked his hands behind your thighs.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You took a deep breath - one, two, one, two.

One, two.

You frowned and blinked open your eyes again.

Rooster was staring at you, blatantly staring at you with a knowing smirk plastered on his lips and his fingers digging into your hips, sure to hold you in place, not allowing you to push even an inch closer to him.

"Roos", you whined, for what already felt like the dozenth time tonight, your hand sinking into his hair, splaying out, tugging at the strands, trying your hardest to pull him in. He didn't move.

"Yes?", he asked, with that grin just deepening, telling you he knew exactly what he was doing.

Of course he did. Of course he'd make you- God, of course, of course, of course! It had been his idea. It had been his plan, his wish, his goddamn idea and now he was making you-

"Fuck", you grumbled, teeth digging into your bottom lip. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to do this because he hadn't even had you lying here for five minutes and he already wanted you to do this. "Roos, just-"

He bit down softly on the skin of your thigh then, pulling a surprised gasp from you, leaving your sentence hanging half-finished in mid air. You had to tilt your head back, had to throw a hand over your face because gods, you couldn't look at him now! Not with his breath meeting your thigh, with the feeling of his moustache against your skin, not with that grin on his lips. If you did, you'd melt in less than a heartbeat. You weren't about to give in that easily.

At least that was what you told yourself. You repeated it in your head like a mantra - he had barely touched you, he was the one who'd wished for this, you wouldn't... you weren't... you hadn't...

Fuck!

"C'mon honey", he encouraged, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh. You let out a shaky breath. He was close, so close now and he had you wound so tightly, so incredibly tightly that you felt like you were burning up from inside and-

"Bradley", you gave in, the word falling, tumbling from your lips in almost a moan. "Please, Bradley, please."

He was on you in a heartbeat. Licking a stripe up your slit, tongue flattened and you cried out, digging your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling, pushing, back arching off the bed as he finally, finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. He dove in like a starved man, licking, pushing, tasting you, devoured and ravaged you, took everything and gave everything at the same time.

Bradley was a god. You'd never had a man eat you out like this until you met him.

His hands pressing against your hips to hold you down, to keep you right there for him, not letting you move an inch from him, only letting you push impossibly closer, your mind, your body screaming more. More, more, more. More of him. More from him. More him.

His tongue found your clit. You cried his name into the vast nothingness of your bedroom, eyes squeezing close and hand cramping into the sheets next to your head, thighs clamping around his head, caging him in, his palms forcing your back still on the mattress.

You could faintly make out your own moans, your own voice as his tongue circled, traced and dipped -

More.

He drew your clit into his mouth. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, send a shiver through your body, make your legs twitch.

Please.

He sunk his tongue into you, brushed your clit, up and down and everywhere.

Bradley.

You were coming close. Close, so close. Every inch of your skin was tensing in anticipation, clenching, clutching. You babbled something of the sort, not listening to yourself, not able to, not starting or stopping, controlling none of your words, none of the sounds falling from your lips. Bradley loosened one of his palms from your hips and immediately you were pushing, arching up, held down a heartbeat later as he pinned his arm down again, his tongue working you, not faltering once and-

pressure.

His thumb on your clit.

You screamed out his name.

Your nails dug into his scalp. Your heels clasped around his back. Every single nerve in your body was on fire. And Bradley didn't stop.

He worked you right through your high, circling his thumb on your clit and sinking his tongue into you, holding you down, holding you close until you were panting, gasping, your legs unclasping from his head, your fingers loosening in his hair, loosening from the bedsheets, your eyes fluttering open, meeting his and only then did he relent. He pulled back softly, stilling his thumb and pressing a kiss to your thigh, watching you as you slowly came back to reality, back to him.

You blinked once. Twice.

He pulled his thumb from you as he rose up from the floor, running his hands along your sides instead, along your ribs, your breasts, your throat, studying the irregular rise and fall of your chest, mapping out your body beneath his. You watched with parted lips as he brought both his hands steadily down next to your head, as he leaned down to meet you in a kiss - heavy and heady and intense and full of all the right emotions. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

But before you could do any more, press yourself up or pull him down, he was gone again, hot breath meeting your lips and that familiar smile crawling back up onto his face.

"Enjoying yourself?", he asked, tilting his head to the side a little, catching the light of the overhead lamp. Wetness glistened on his moustache. You bit down on your bottom lip, doing your hardest to conceal the smile that was fighting to get to the surface.

Instead, you let out an agreeable hum and brought your hand up to his stache to wipe at it, to wipe some of you off him and admittedly, you already knew that wouldn't do much - but the simple act of innocently cleaning him off like that, fingers brushing above his mouth, just caressing his skin, it made something in your stomach churn.

"How about you? Now that we've checked one wish off your list... Any more?", you muttered, trailing your fingers along his cheek, down his scars, following those lines of skin you knew so well, burning them into your mind, burning him into your mind. You'd never seen anyone as beautiful. You didn't think there was anyone as beautiful out there. Your breath hitched, fingertips catching on a birthmark, before you snapped your eyes back up to his. "Any more wishes at all, Bradley?"

A sort of grunt left him as you did your best not to grin - you knew just what buttons to push, didn't you?

"You know", he muttered, dropping his head, brushing his nose down the sensitive skin of your throat. "I could think of a few more things."

"Yeah?", you asked, just on the right side of breathless again, skin tingling wherever he decided to place a few deliberate, almost chaste kisses. "Like what?"

He'd worked his way down to your breasts again, still holding himself up with both his hands.

"I could fuck you nice and slow, just like you deserve it", he said softly, the words flowing from him as easily as if he were talking about breakfast the next day. Rational, sober, collected. You, on the other hand, could feel the wetness pooling in between your legs again. You couldn't believe how reasonable, how practical, how composed he could stay while he said things like that - how he'd fuck you, how he'd eat you out, how he'd pull every single thought from your mind with his fingers and his mouth and his cock.

"Or", he went on, completely unbothered still, stopping in between words to drop kisses onto your breasts. "I could fuck you hard and fast, because that's what you want, right?"

A moan tumbled from your lips all of its own accord, your eyes fluttering shut again. He was conjuring visuals in your mind that had you clenching your legs together, hands clawing their way back up into his hair - you needed something to keep you here and now, to keep you grounded.

"I'm right, honey, aren't I?", he muttered, obviously satisfied with himself. "You want me to fuck you rough, don't you?"

You were sure you'd crossed some border into heaven and just hadn't realised it. This man would truly be the death of you one day.

"Yes", you breathed, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. "Yes, please, Bradley."

You could feel his grin against your bare skin.

"You look so pretty begging for me, honey", he smiled, raising himself up and before you could complain much about it, before you could as much as open your eyes again, he was dropping a kiss to your lips, long and longing, parted lips pressed against each other, breathing each other in.

Then he pulled away from you completely and you did let a whine fall from your lips after all, raising yourself up onto your elbows to blindly follow after him as he straightened up and then bent down to pull off his shoes, his socks, to fumble with his belt - all in fucking slow motion apparently, that's how long it took, two hours just to take off his goddamn socks and you were just sitting there, staring, blinking, hazy mind clearing up the way it always had to after you'd been so close to him, watching, staring, watching, staring...

An eternity, it seemed, until you grew too impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

You pushed yourself up, reached for his belt yourself, pulled it from its buckle, unhooked it, opened it finally, finally, finally! and blinked up at him again, all wide eyes and smudged lipstick and swollen lips and Bradley felt pretty sure he died a little just then - this had to be heaven, you had to be heaven. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and your tongue ran along your lips and he had to swallow hard.

His jeans fell to the floor, chased quickly by his boxer briefs and you took a deep breath as you looked at him, leaning forward, leaning in to reach for him-

He took both your hands in his and pushed you down on the mattress again, another of those pathetic whines dropping from your lips at being denied the feeling of him.

"Fuck, Roos, please", you begged, sounding pitiful to your own ears by now, pleading for something you knew he'd give to you anyway, just so goddamn impatient that you couldn't even help the words rolling off your tongue.

He let go of your hands, reached for your waist instead to pull you up, to tug you firmly farther up the mattress until he could follow after safely, until he could nudge your knees apart and trail a line of kisses up your shoulder, his hands finding their usual spot next to your head.

"What was that, honey?", he grinned against your skin, holding himself up above you to look you right in the eyes.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled a moan from yourself and a similar groan from him, squeezed your eyes shut and had immediately forgotten what it'd been you'd said before. What it'd been he was asking about.

He brought one hand down to your thigh, squeezing tight, holding you even tighter to him, and pressed his hips down into the mattress, pulling another moan from you and, again, a similar groan from himself, making sure that you couldn't move against him on your own, that you were completely at his mercy.

As always.

"Please", you whined, desperate now, trying to rock your hips against his and not succeeding, not succeeding because he was holding you still, holding you down, holding you helpless and defenseless, withholding the one goddamn thing you wanted from him right now. And after all that talk too! "Roos, please, Bradley, do something."

You were far from whining now, breathless and moaning and sobbing basically, hands clawing at his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, begging and pleading and he was just holding still, doing nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing and you wanted more, you wanted something, anything.

"Look at me", he panted then - the only sign at all that he was somehow affected by this as well. "Look at me, honey, open your eyes."

And what else were you supposed to do but follow that command, grant him that wish?

So you forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look at him.

A thin layer of sweat gleaned on his skin. His stare was fixed on you and you alone. And his pupils had dilated so far that his usually hazel eyes were practically black now. You sucked in an unsteady breath.

"Good girl", he praised and you were done for.

You could have come from that alone.

Those two words, breathed into the nothingness of the room, onto your lips, onto your naked skin, sent a shiver down your spine, down your back and your hips and your legs, a shiver so violent that it pulled a moan right with it, a string of them. You barely heard Bradley's groan above you before he pulled away just the slightest bit, pulled away to brush his hand down your side, down your chest, down your hips, between your bodies, to reach for himself and stroke his tip through the wetness between your legs, your back arching off the mattress, into him, into more of him and-

"Wait", you panted.

Bradley froze immediately. His expression shifted to worry in the span of half a second, furrowing his brows and pulling away from you.

"What's wrong?", he asked, still breathless. You closed your eyes and took a breath, tensing, forcing yourself to keep down on the mattress, even as cold settled on your skin now that he wasn't warming you up anymore - inches away from you again. Considerate idiot.

"Just-", you stopped, opened your eyes, looked right at him. "Do you think Jake suspects anything?"

Bradley kept still for a few seconds. A shallow breath and another, your chest rising and falling and you had a hard time thinking, even now that he was barely touching you anymore. You were wound tightly, and you'd been so close, and now...

"You're not seriously thinking about Jake right now", Bradley said, almost accusingly.

You had to admit, it was a bit strange - you were naked, panting, your legs wrapped around his hips, and still you were thinking about Jake, about the bet, about what you'd said hours ago at the bar. You hadn't even been thinking about it, really. It had just come to you, overwhelming you, and you... you had needed to get it out. Still, you did have to admit, it was absurd.

So you bit down on your lip to conceal a smile, a grin, trailed your hands to his hair to brush it behind his ears, almost innocently (but just almost).

"I'm sorry, I just...", you whispered, stroking your hands down his scalp. "We've kept this between us for three weeks now. I don't want to have ruined that."

Bradley shook his head at you, dropped it to his chin, his curls brushing your nose, your cheeks, and sighed onto the skin of your throat.

"You're unbelievable", he muttered, dropping a kiss between your breasts now that he knew you weren't uncomfortable or afraid or anything of the sort in the slightest. Your breath hitched again. You didn't want to talk about this. You wanted him inside you, wanted him to make good on his promise from before. But you knew you had to, because otherwise the thought wouldn't leave you alone, even though the coil in your stomach, the heat in your body screamed bloody murder at you for it.

He looked back up, raised his chin again to meet your eyes.

"Don't worry about Jake", he reassured, one hand starting to softly, just so very softly, brush up and down your side. You had to swallow. "He won't even remember tomorrow."

He dropped another kiss onto your skin, a little further down, that grin, that moustache against your ribs.

"And I'll make sure you won't remember either, pretty girl. Alright?"

You nodded so quickly you almost got a head rush, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, head tilting back just the slightest, your fingers digging into his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, the covers rustling as he settled further back, as his breath ghosted over your center again.

"Need to hear you say it, honey. Say it for me."

"Please", you babbled instantly, not even thinking, not even close, not when Bradley was giving you such easy instructions to follow. "Please, Roos, please."

You could feel him shake his head, obviously unsatisfied, breathing hard, hands travelling up and down your thighs and nothing more, leaving you in some state of being touched but not really being touched and you felt like going insane again.

"Try again, honey", he tutted, and you were already about to plead, to beg even more when he went on - "Look at me, baby, look at me and try again."

You blinked open your eyes, tilted your head down to look at him, all pretty and wide-eyed, just like he'd asked, your fingers cramping in his hair.

"Please, Roos-"

He raised his eyebrows and you knew then, you knew where your mistake had been - you should've known before, you should've-

"Bradley", you moaned. "Please, Bradley, I want you. I need you."

He grinned at that, dropped a kiss to your thigh before flattening his tongue against your folds again, drawing another moan from you. Your eyes stayed fixed on his, but only because you knew he wanted you to, only because you knew he needed you to. His palms splayed out against the backs of your thighs, keeping them still, as always.

His tongue drew a circle on your clit and you arched off the bed, into him, a whine tumbling from your lips, followed by his name. He pulled back much too quickly, much too easily, with a much too satisfied grin on his lips, looking up at you for just a second before he leaned down to drop a kiss to your hip.

"Bradley", you complained, cut off by your own moan when you felt his fingers trail through your wetness instead of his tongue, all soft and slow and you rocked your hips against his hand - more friction, more touch, more, more, more.

You hadn't been kidding when you'd said that you wanted him. That you needed him.

Bradley chuckled, kissing his way up your body again, one hand next to your head to hold himself up just the way he'd done before, but his fingers brushing, stroking, his thumb on your clit, moan after moan spilling from you. You needed more. More.

You tried to shift closer, tried to cant your hips into his palm for more, blinking up at him and whimpering and fuck, Bradley was just human after all, how could he deny you anything if you looked at him like that? So he started drawing little circles with his thumb, little circles on your clit, and pushed a finger into you.

You rewarded him with the soft sound of his name rolling off your tongue, your hands reaching for his arms, clawing at his biceps. You had needed this, had needed him and now... Now you needed more. More, even as he pulled his finger from you and pushed in again, starting in a slow, easy rhythm, drawing little moans, quiet whimpers from you. You rocked your hips back onto him, pushed for more. More.

"More", you voiced your thoughts, begging, pleading again - you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted! And you'd been so close, you'd been so goddamn close, but now he was just lazily pushing his finger into you, with one of those grins on his lips that told you he knew what he was doing incredibly well too. He was a tease, a goddamn tease, and you-

"More what, honey?", Bradley asked, interrupting your thoughts, your spiraling thoughts as his finger moved ever so slowly, teasing, playing.

You let out a whine as he stilled completely, his finger nestled inside you, touching you but not touching you enough, not nearly enough and he'd make you go crazy one day, he would! You tried to push your hips into his hand. Not that it did anything.

"More what?", Bradley asked again, looked at you as you refocused on his face, his eyes because you knew he'd want you to. He always wanted you to look at him.

"Please", you whispered. "Bradley."

His smile deepened, but he didn't move.

"Nice try, baby", he chuckled. "But that wasn't the question."

You grumbled and tilted your head back, squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. You wanted more. And he was making you say exactly what.

Putting the power in your hands, it seemed - but you knew it wasn't that. He'd already promised you to do just what you wanted, had said it so easily, so soberly that he'd left you dazed. And now he was asking you to do the same.

You couldn't. He knew you couldn't.

So you let out a small whimper, let your head fall to the side to look at him again, eyes wide and teeth digging into your bottom lip and kept still as best as you could, even as the desire, the need to fuck yourself on his finger grew with every passing breath - trying to make sure that he wouldn't tease you further. He'd done that before already, you knew that he could and he would.

He seemed to have realised it too, your legs, your hips calm now, your eyes fixed on his.

"Please fuck me, Bradley", you said softly, only a little breathlessly, a little nervous around the edges, doing your best not to let your restraint show. You weren't used to just saying stuff like that out loud. It was different, somehow, to say it, and to say it right to his face too.

But as much as you tried to hide it, your body still had the same reaction - breath coming shorter, heat shooting straight to your cheeks, the coil in your stomach tightening again.

Bradley's eyes on yours didn't make it any better.

Neither did his grin as he pulled his finger from you, pulled a moan from your lips right with it, as he brushed it through your folds, up and down before his fingertip stopped on your clit.

"Fuck you how, honey?", he asked. He wanted you to lose your mind, you were sure of that. You bit down on your lip, furrowed your brows, forced yourself to think, to keep thinking even though he was drawing circles on your clit now, bringing you back to the endless loop of more, more, more in your mind.

"Fuck me-", you panted, starting and stopping, closing your eyes. "Rough, please, Bradley. Please."

He pulled his fingers from you entirely, chuckling as you mewled and blinked up at him again, as you watched him raise his hand to your lips. You parted them in reflex, let him push his fingers into your mouth, rest them on your tongue. This, finally, was something you felt much less nervous about. So you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his fingers clean.

Bradley had you well acquainted with the taste of yourself by now. Not that you minded.

You made sure to keep your eyes fixed on his as you brushed your tongue along his fingertips. He let out some sort of sound caught between a moan and a groan and a curse and, maybe, your name, and you had a hard time keeping your grin concealed as you sucked, spurred on not only the fire in your own abdomen, but in Bradley's as well, red heating up your cheeks and your legs growing restless.

You were getting impatient again. You needed more.

Luckily, it seemed that Bradley had about enough of this as well.

He pulled his fingers from you with a pop, shook his head with a grin, trailed a line of your spit around your breasts, around your nipples.

"You look sinful", he muttered, dropping a kiss to your lips before you could even begin to think about a response, all open mouth and breathing each other in, the taste of you on both your tongues. "Tell me again how you want me to fuck you rough, honey. Just once more. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, nodded without thinking, panting a bit now, pressing your legs together at his voice, at the look in his eyes, at... at him, at everything about him. You needed him. You'd do anything he asked.

"Fuck me rough, Bradley. Please."

His eyes darkened further. He brought his lips down on yours again, firmer now, heavier now, claiming your mouth, your tongue, your lips, claiming you, back to the familiar, thrilling predator and prey game that the two of you had abandoned at some point along the way.

"Good girl", he rasped.

You let out a pitiful moan. God, this man would absolutely be the death of you.

Good girl.

You couldn't press your legs together any further, couldn't possibly get any more friction, could only whine and whimper and moan and wait, wait as Bradley reached between your bodies and finally, finally, finally pushed into you.

You'd been waiting for this for the past five days.

You let out some pathetic sounding sob of his name as he pressed his hips snugly to yours, stretching you out in the best of possible ways, dropping his lips to your throat, to your neck. You clawed at his arms, at his shoulders, pulled him close to you, even closer. Eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, breath hitching.

Bradley gave you the entirety of half a second to adjust to him, half a second in which you could barely get past the moan of his name before he was moving, thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of you, drawing sounds you'd have been embarrassed about in any other situation.

But you could barely hear them.

You could barely do anything other than moan, anything other than scratch, hold, claw at him, anything other than let him wrap your legs around his waist and push in, pull out, push in again, his hold on your thigh so firm you'd see the marks tomorrow.

He fucked you with a relentlessness that reduced you to a mess of numb limbs, that pulled every last thought from you, one by one - with a rhythm, unfaltering, unwavering, with soft grunts and moans rolling off his tongue, with his mouth moving against your skin, working his way up to yours.

You met his lips in a frenzy, your hands tangled somewhere in his hair, your nails scratching somewhere down his back, your legs wrapped around his hips, your lips parted, your moans swallowed, his cock sliding in and out of you, the delicious drag of him building, setting alight the coil in your stomach.

You'd been waiting for this for too long. You wouldn't last much longer, not after he'd already pulled the first orgasm from you. Not after he'd been building you up for so long.

"Bradley", you moaned against his lips. "More."

He pulled back an inch and you blinked your eyes open, focused on him, on the blush on his cheeks and the rise and the fall of his chest as he slowed down a bit, drawing another whine from you, feeling different now, slower yes, but more deliberate maybe, more teasing maybe, hitting other spots, dragging it out, feeling more and less intense all the same and - most importantly - letting your close, so close grow weaker and weaker and weaker.

"You know-", Bradley panted, letting his thumb brush over the skin of your thigh, loosening his grip just the slightest. "You know how to ask, pretty girl."

A sob made its way past your lips. You wanted more, you needed more - you'd be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, but you forgot, you brushed right past it when he had you like this. So wasn't it his fault, really?

"Fuck me harder, Bradley", you whimpered - you'd lost the ability to feel embarrassed somewhere along the way. You didn't care anymore, not with his cock so slowly sliding in and out of you, not with his eyes on yours, not with... no, not anymore, you needed more now and you were desperate to get it, already rocking your hips back onto him in search of more - more friction, more touch, more him.

He pressed his lips to yours again, back to claiming you, back to firm, back to teeth and tongue before pulling away, pulling out, pulling another wail from you as he sat back on his ankles, hard and panting.

Then his hands clasped around your waist and you had no time to react before he had turned you over, your face smushed into the pillow, fingers reaching up to dig into the sheets.

He thrust back into you in one swift motion.

And you screamed.

You didn't know how he did it - you didn't want to know, really - but he hit that sensitive spot inside of you instantly, the new position allowing new depth, allowing new touches, new feelings, new and more and you couldn't think, could only touch, only feel.

Only touch, only feel him.

The drag of him, the push of him, the way he hit all those spots he needed to hit to have you up there, to have you close within seconds again.

He trailed his fingertips along your spine, sent a shiver through your body as he fucked you rough, just like you'd asked of him so very, very nicely. He reached your neck, reached around to your throat and when his fingers brushed along your jaw, he clasped his hand around it and pulled. Pulled you up, right to his chest, sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned his name.

You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, gave him more skin to touch, more of your body to claim, more of you to make his as he thrust relentlessly into you, as his other hand brushed between your legs, up your thighs until his fingers met your clit, pushed down and pulled an even louder moan of his name from you.

His hand closed around your throat at the same time.

You choked back a gasp, breath hitching, back arching off him and into him both, more and less clashing in your mind because this was what you wanted, this was what you'd begged him for, but all of it so suddenly, following each other so closely - too much, not enough.

You clenched around him.

Bradley let out a moan - his lips against your ear, the sound of it in every fibre of your body, of your mind, of your soul. And that was it for you.

You came with another cry of his name - a scream, a sob, maybe, or none of it, you weren't sure - maybe you let out no sound at all, rendered silent for once. The world was white for a second, your mouth dry, your throat hoarse, pleasure coarsing through every vein, every limb, every muscle, every bone.

You went slack against him. Your legs gave out, your eyes fell shut, your arms, your hands loose at your sides, and the only reason you didn't fall back onto your mattress were Bradley's arms around you - on your throat, around your hips. His fingertips circling your clit still, his hips snug to yours as he bit down on your shoulder, as he reached his own high, his moustache scratching deliciously against your skin, grounding you as your breath slowly came back to normal, as you won back the feeling in your legs.

You stayed still for a minute - just catching your breath, allowing yourself to take whatever time you needed to come back to yourself, to really notice the way Bradley held you up all on his own, the way his chest felt against your back, the way he had his lips pressed to the skin of your shoulder, the way his thumbs brushed ever so softly up and down, one along your throat, one along your stomach.

You never wanted this to end.

You were warm and safe and satisfied in his arms.

A slow smile spread on your face. Bradley's breath fanned softly over the shell of your ear. You could feel your own heart beat in your chest.

"Satisfied now, honey?", Bradley rasped, voice rough in all the right ways, his lips ghosting over your neck. You let out a soft hum in agreement. He chuckled against your skin.

"I'm gonna let go of you now, princess", he cautioned (you could just so push back the whine that wanted to escape) before ever so slowly, ever so carefully pulling his hand from your throat, pulling his arm from around you - softly pushing down on your back instead, hands wrapped around your hips again, laying you back down on the mattress and then turning you over. The bed was cold in comparison to him. Cold and lonely.

He had to pull out as he lay you down and that whine left your lips after all - you were empty and cold and lonely now and you wanted him, more of him, all of him again. Your legs were mushy and your mind still reeling, but you didn't have to think much anyway, not when you knew just what you wanted. You reached out, arms, hands in mid air as you tried to grab him, any of him.

He was sitting back on his ankles, running his hands through his hair, meeting your eyes as he saw you reach out for him. He looked positively exhausted.

You got hold of his hands and pulled him down, onto you. He brought them - and yours right with them - down next to your head in reflex, effectively pinning you down, and though neither of you had planned that, you still had to fight back a smile.

You were breathless, chest still heaving with the sticky intoxication of the moment, sweaty and hot and satisfied, truly, and you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms now and let you fall asleep on his chest.

Instead, he leaned in with a grin and kissed you. Kissed you with all the fiery passion fading into heady contentment, slow and deliberate, because he had all the time in the world now - it was the middle of the night and both of you were growing tired, your bones heavy, your muscles aching deliciously, your thoughts quiet, lazy almost. The middle of the night where romance could now dominate what had before been lust's reign.

That was what this felt like, Bradley's body on yours, his skin sticky with sweat, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing down into the mattress. This felt like golden honey dripping down onto the reality of the moment, like gods' ichor flowing in your veins, like unnecessarily long and flowery metaphors for a feeling you felt too afraid to name this early on.

Bradley pulled away, let go of your hands and sat back once more - you followed him on some invisible kind of string, pushing up onto your palms, blinking at him in confusion.

He dropped another quick kiss onto your lips with a chuckle.

"Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?", he asked, a grin playing on his lips, his hands brushing over your ribcage, your stomach as though he, too, had some carnal need to keep touching you, to keep his fingertips moving over your skin at all times.

You closed your eyes, allowed the smile on your face to grow as wide as it wanted, and nodded at him.

"Yes, please, Roos", you mumbled, bathing in the yellow light of your bedroom lamp, in the soft buzzing of the ac, in the rhythmic tic-toc of your kitchen clock. In all these daily-life things, because they weren't daily-life right now. Right now, Bradley had just fucked you, right now, Bradley was sitting in front of you, right now, Bradley had his hands on your body, right now... Right now, you were happy, happy and satisfied, content with the world.

"Back to Rooster, are we?", he asked, drew his hands back from you and got up. Your smile deepened.

"I thought you liked your callsign", you quipped back innocently, eyes opening again as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your mattress, into the air, just because he could, just because you wanted him to. You didn't think you'd ever possibly get tired of his strength. He was a bit like your own, personally crafted superhero.

"I do", he muttered. You crossed your arms behind his neck, pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "But the entire squad uses it."

"Oh", you said, exactly like that, because oh, indeed. "So when I say Rooster..."

"I think of work."

You pulled back a bit to look at him, even as his eyes were focused on the wall, trying to find the light switch for the bathroom.

"And you don't like that", you concluded, teeth digging into your bottom lip as a thought struck you. "You don't like thinking of work, Lieutenant?"

Bradley froze.

Bullseye.

"What did you say?"

His eyes focused on you, fixated on you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed. You did your best try at an innocent smile, at a doe-eyed look somehow, but you doubted you achieved anything even remotely close.

"Lieutenant", you muttered again, heat pooling in your lap once more simply at the look on his face. You'd uncovered another one of his layers and you were already anticipating the consequences. "Do you want me to beg again?"

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun #top gun smut #x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

2K notes · View notes

carmenized-onions · 8 months ago

Text

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning. Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

“How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x female reader

383 notes · View notes

changisworld · 1 year ago

Note

For changbin: you decide to start your fitness journey and call your experienced boyfriend to help you training, but apparently he has other plans (i was totally inspired by the skz yoga class, that man fixing hyunjin's position got me to places lol)

OMG what a good ask for me to respond to for my FIRST EVER BINNIE FIC!! I hope you enjoy <3

Word count:2.319

Obvious MDNI,18+ smut warnings under the cut

Any reblogs & comments are deeply appreciated!

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

PSA FOR ANY ASKS/REQUESTS: i WILL get around to posting everyone's requests, I'm sorry if it takes a bit of time but whatever you request i'll get around to posting it! IM ALSO MAKING AN ANON LIST!! just send me anything & tell me what emoji you wanna be!

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS; slightly jealous binnie, coke can cock binnie, confident reader, pet names such as pretty,jagi, baby, public sex, creampie, quickie, slight teasing

You have finally decided to join the gym after saying it was your new years revolution for thee longest time & who better to help with your journey than your long term boyfriend, Changbin!

You put on a pair of sport leggings & a matching sports bra & you put Changbins shirt over it. You admire how you look in the mirror, trying to make sure you look as good as you can without looking like you're putting in effort & then you put on the gym shoes Changbin bought for you to encourage you to go to the gym & you then decide to walk to the gym & meet Changbin there. Since its 1am on a tuesday it's a safe & quick 15 minute walk to the gym.

You walk into the changing room & lock your bag off & you take off the baggy shirt you're wearing & shut the locker, putting the key around your wrist.

You step into the gym & unsurprisingly it's completely empty, other for a random guy & of course, Changbin himself.

You walk over to Changbin who is currently on his phone & taking a drink, of course sitting on the edge of the bench presss.

"Hey Binnie!" you say, waving your hand in front of his phone to get his attention over his music playing in his headphones. "Oh hey y/n! when did you get that set? you look so good" he says smirking at you as you giggle & roll your eyes as he stands up & gives you a quick hug. "I'm happy you're here jagi, trust me you'll loooove the gym once i teach you!" He says, nothing but enthusiasm in his voice. "Yeah well i better hope so seeing since i want to look a bit better & fit for summer" you say, looking at the huge mirror that stretches from one end of the gym all the way to the other. "Your body is already perfect y/n, the gym can just be a healthy hobby for you! Anyways, lets start with some stretches." He says, taking a hold of your wrist & guides you over to the matted open area.

"Okay so to start off, lets sit on the ground & put your legs straight out in front of you & set your hands out as far as you can." Changbin says, already getting into position. You copy him & you do what he asks as he gets up & pushes your back slightly to get that extra stretch. You hold it for 30 seconds before he helps you stand back up.

"Do i really need to stretch? my back is still pretty stretched out along with my legs from when you had my feet up past my head earlier when you had folded me in half, probably not the only thing that's still a bit stetched still hm?" you flirt with him, he playfully hits your shoulder. "yaaah! not.. here, i won't be able to handle it" he whispers back, trailing his fingers along your stomach as he kisses the sweet spot behind you ears. You let out a small hum then pull away. "I was being serious! but fine, what should i do now?" You ask, putting your arms above your head & just stretching normally, scrunching your eyes together, Changbin licks his lips subconsciously. "ehhh, lets have you just simply touch your toes hm? try hold it." he says, coming up behind you to help you with keeping you as folded as possible but as he is doing this, his covered cock is now against your ass & your cheeks blush.

You hold it, quite liking the burn in the back of your legs but liking the feeling of binnie pressed against your ass more. You let out a small huff & a second later you're pulled up abruptly by Changbins calloused hands around your waist. "You said 30 seconds didn't you?" you ask, slightly confused. "yeah but that guy over there kept staring at you & i didn't appreciate it." He says, glancing over at the guy who was in the gym when you arrived is now slightly closer, 'on his phone'. "ooo my jealous baby" you smile at him, kissing his cheek & scratching under his chin like a catplayfully. "anyways, let's just go on the treadmill or something for now hm?" you ask, holding his hand in your & nods, still got a bit of a frown on his face.

~TIME SKIP~

It's been an hour & you & changbin have been on multiple areas, he helped you get used to a lot of leg strength machines just to show you how they worked but mainly helped you train arms. The other guy has since now left & its just you two left in the gym. "Okay so to finish up, why not we do some squats hm? it helps arms & obviously your glutes too. I'll help your form so don't worry jagi." He says, picking up two 20lb weights & giving them to you. You sigh loudly as you take them & Changbin helps you get into position. You squat down, looking into the same mirror as earlier & hold it, changbin holding your hips. "your ass looks good like this, i could get used to helping you" he says, giving it a playful slap. You wince at the slap & drop the weights before standing up right. "stop the teasing binnie! I need to take this seriously if i want results." you giggle back before grabbing his hands & putting them back on your waist as you pick up the weights again & continuing.

"y/n you need to put your legs slightly further apart." He says & you try to slightly split them, still in your position. "wait, a little bit less jagi, wait i'ma try something" He says & before you get to respond, you see changbin lying down & starting to slide underneath your legs. "They should be as far apart as how wide the bottom of my ribs are, mkay? I know you know that much so try think about it that way." You giggle as you look down & see his cute, pretty smile & face looking up at you. You nod as you breathe through your mouth & he starts so slide back out from underneath you but he notices something... a small wet spot right where your crotch is. "jagi, drop the weights for a second." You don't need to think twice since your arms are burning along with your legs at this point, dropping them to the sides.

You stand up as changbin finishes sliding out from under you & is behind you again & he wraps his huge arms around your chest & waist as he kisses your neck back. He nibbles your earlobe & whispers; "meet me in the changing rooms in a minute, cameras are watching us & they might come find us if we leave at the same time" He kisses your cheek before leaving, leaving you excited & also confused.

You put the weights away & try look busy for a few minutes before you head into the boys changing rooms & you are immediately ambushed by changbins lips. You moan into it with surprise before he leans you against the wall, large hand resting on it right next to your head as he has the other hand loosely wrapped around your neck. "Wheres this suddenly came from hm? Couldn't wait until we got home, no?" You tease, your own hand coming own to play with his sweatpants drawstrings. " suddenly? Hope you know you have a literal wet patch on your leggings baby, you sure you weren't just waiting for me to do this hm?" he teases back, fingers from your neck trailing under your sports bra to begin pinching your nipples, you whine in response. "Well how can you expect me to not be wet when your hands were basically touching me more than my own clothes hmm? grinding against me?" You say, pawing his joggers & boxers down just enough to free his cock.

You kiss his lips again before slouching down to your knees & taking a hold of his thick dick in your hand, fingers just barely wrapping fully around it. You begin kitten licking the tip & along the sides, paying extra attention to the sweet spot right under the bottom of his tip, he lets out a low groan in response. "Jagi please, don't tease.. Can i just put it in you? i'm desperate baby" he whines, thrusting his dick in your hands, tip hitting your tongue & lips. "I would say no & suck your soul out but my jaw is still sore from earlier when you fucked my face." you smirk up at hiss blushed cheeks & damp sweaty hair as you stand up & he helps pull your leggings just below your ass as your face is pressed against the wall.

"your ass is so perfect gorgeous, to die for." changbin hums, giving it a light smack & caress. "you sure you can take it baby hm? want me to open you with my tongue or something first? you know i'm big." He asks in a sweet tone as his fingers are spreading your folds, teasing you further. You whine & squirm at the contact as he plays with your pussy open, trying to get more contact. "I can take it Bin' i should be able to since you fucked me so good earlier, please put it in" you whine, moving your head so you can make eye contact with him. He nods as he grabs his cock again & pumps it twice before lining it up at your entrance & then pushes just the tip in, you let out a breathy gasp.

"H-holy fuck.. s-so big oh my" you whimper out, feeling his heavy tip splitting you open.

"Told you baby, i'm gonna push in more now mkay?" he asks as he leans & kisses your shoulder as he starts paving his way into your velvet walls, him holding his breath subconsciously as you let out a long whine at the feeling, eyes scrunched together as you finally feel his balls hit the bottom of your cunt.

"so wet for me baby, letting me into you like this, so good for me hunny, can i move now hmm?" he asks in a higher pitched voice, stroking your hair as he does so. "yes.. j-just move.. p-please Binnie please" you reply, fingers trying to dig into the walls with how much you're trying to grip the walls. He hums before letting go of your hair & starts a slow but strong stroke movement. You start letting out raspy whines as you hear skin clapping around the room as his cock quite literally splits you in half.

"F-f-uck Bi-binnie already gon' cum, holy shi" you moan, clenching around his cock unintentionally. Changbin lets out a satisfied whine as his hand slithers down to start rubbing your clit which makes you start squirming even more, moans getting louder. Changbin smacks your pussy lightly "Shhh we need to be quiet baby mkay? we are in a gym remember." he whispers in your ears as your eyes roll to the back of your head, being reduced to a melted pile against the wall he's fucking you into.

His hand resumes its movement on your clit as you cum around his dick, walls not being able to clench too much due to the genuine thickness of his cock in you. "good girl, cumming around me like this, so hot for me." He gives you a moment rest from the abuse on your clit before he starts resuming his movements, making you thrash but it's no use as he wraps his hand in your hair as he lifts you so you're now positioned back to chest as his thick, muscly arm wraps around your waist & stomach as he continues pounding your now red & swollen cunt.

His hips start to stutter & you know he's close but you're in too much of your own world to propely mention it. "Bin' s-so f-ffull.. fuck" you say but comes out as a raspy whisper at this point due to the amount of moaning you've been letting through your lips, your voice is now starting to leave. "awk yeah? so full in you hm? why not you have a better feel?" he asks as he grabs you hand & presses it into your own lower tummy & you let out an even bigger groan at feeling his dick quite literally fucking into you.

You throw your head back into his shoulder as you feel it, moving the angle of your head just enough so you can reach changbins lips & you kiss him full of tongue as you feel his hot release painting your walls as his hips stutter. His eyebrows furrow as he lets out a high pitched groan into your lips, hair stuck to his face.

You break the kiss to let you both catch your breath back. " that's definitely in one of the top 3 best quickies we've ever had & definitely the hotttest, i love you pretty pretty." he says to you in deep breaths, smiling at you as you lean your arms against the wall again. You go to reply when someone knocks on the changing room door... it is an employee. You both shoot a glance at eachother with wide eyes, trying not to laugh, You mouth the words 'I love you too & i agree' & you go to hide in one of the cubicles as changbin quickly pulls his sweatpants back up before unlocking the changing room door. "uh yeah? anything wrong?" he asks through the door, voice tinged with embarrassment.

#changbin #changbin x reader #changbin smut #changbin stray kids #binnie #stray kids #skz smut #skz asks #anon ask #request #bang chan #han jisung #hyunjin #jeongin #lee know #seungmin #felix #skz scenarios #skz x reader

187 notes · View notes

igglemouse · 2 months ago

Text

Simón stared at the product and wondered about it. He never used. He followed that old rule, don't get high off your old supply, but the thing is, this wasn't his supply. He was just the transportation. He brought the stuff in, he brought the stuff out, and that was it. Didn't pay much but it did pay enough but as he looked at it he wondered if it was time for a promotion. If they were going to drag him back in then why should he remain on the sidelines?

It was something he had to seriously consider. If he had the blessing of the cartel, maybe, just maybe he could pull it off. But without their approval? He'd be dead. You don't run from Los Tigres, at least not for long, so if he were to become a dealer he'd have to be a partner.

Still, as he looked around his cramped rundown and dusty trailer he started to wonder if this was his only move. He didn't have many job prospects but he had a lot of ambition. Maybe this was his opportunity...

Tuesday morning and yep, still doing chores. We're planning to hire a maid soon because honestly otherwise this place would be a little too much for me to handle. I do think it would be a temporary thing. I'm not sure if I want Flora growing up to be spoiled, thinking someone will always do her laundry and clean up after her, but who knows how I'll feel about it once the maid checks in. Maybe they will spoil me. It's hard to imagine myself as one of those pampered player wives but I feel like that's the path I'm going down.

As for Flora I'm taking care of her the best I can which of course includes feeding her right from the source. There are a lot of benefits to it, health wise and I've heard it helps with bonding. Not that we'll need help with that because I feel like I've already completely connected with her! She's growing so fast too, every day I can see her getting just a pinch bigger, or maybe I'm imagining it?

Overall, life feels perfect right now! I know I keep saying this but I really can't imagine that I would be in this spot a year ago. A beautiful baby girl, a beautiful house, and an umm, yeah, a good looking but somewhat goofy boyfriend! I just feel so good that even a plain apple salad gets me excited!

I'm really pouring as much of myself as I can into this new social media thing when I do get free time. I want to feel productive and I know taking care of Flora is being productive but like I've said, I don't want that to be my only thing. I know being a mama means limited free time too but I'll manage. I think my new career is off to a great start as well!

As for Pascal, well, you can probably guess. Yep. Working out and of course without his shirt. If you've got it, flaunt it, is what I always hear.

And I'm trying to get it back with a little more free time given to me or at least enough time to hop on the treadmill. I have my mind set on losing this baby weight and I am also motivated by the fact that Pascal does this every single day so I can do it too!

I did spend most of my day on the treadmill and got a solid workout in. I feel so much better! I can't head to bed though without checking in on Flora who was whiny and wriggly and needy and this time I bottle fed her. I also hang out with her a little, chat with her a little, and let her know I love her more than anything in the world. How could I not? Look at her!

Pascal is out for a road game and that's why I've been here home alone for most of the day. I was going to slip into bed but I remember I have to check my socials before sleeping. Which means just seeing the reaction to my last video and interacting with people here and there and also checking in on Pascal's socials since I'm nosy and he's my guy so I have a right to be a little nosy. That's normal right?

Is it also normal that he's liking this woman's post?

Frida Varela - Next Episode 9.4

#The Sims #The Sims 4 #ts4 #Sims #Sims 4 #sims legacy #my sims #generation 1 #soot #sims of our time #frida varela #sofia prats #pascal alcocer #florencia alcocer #simon barrera #tw: drugs #tw: drugs mention

45 notes · View notes

vidalinav · 8 months ago

Text

She wants the (Ph)D

Look I debated giving you a taste of another fanfic I'm writing... because it is a little too close to home. In that it is literally my life for the last two years. But I'm taking creative liberty and mixing it up, and it gives me slight second hand embarrassment. It's a fic like Stu(died) but in graduate school and Cassian wears glasses sometimes in this fic. So it's not as innocent. It's quite... well you'll see. Don't judge me too harshly because I swear to god I'm fucking stupid.

Her next door neighbor is a meathead or at least that's what Nesta tells Emerie when she rants about the party he'd thrown last night that kept her up until 3 am.

He's a meathead who disobeys the unspoken social rules that they've set all those months ago.

"You mean the rules you made up when you moved in, which no one knows about but you?"

Nesta waves the information away, with a flick of her wrist. "He's obeyed them all this time, so I don't know why he suddenly wants to party. Why couldn't he stay a friendless loser who never invites anyone over?"

Emerie snorts, pulling out her laptop. She's about to start working and Nesta knows she should be doing that too and finishing up the PowerPoint of her proposal, but how can she when she's tired from staying up all night instead of sleeping like a normal person? 3 am and she listens to boys yelling and their tasteless music and their loud laughs as if there's anything to be laughing about at 3 am.

"A rager has gotta be better than hearing him go at it through the walls."

"No! That was better," Nesta decides, grimacing at the countless memories that accost her mind of the girlfriend who just wouldn't leave. "At least that only lasted for five minutes."

Emerie laughs at that, already knowing the stories that have plagued their work sessions. It may not be his fault that the walls are thin, but it is his fault for having sex the minute she gets home. They may share a wall where they sleep at night, but they do not share the same taste for propriety and proper neighborly ethics.

"You know, you know too much about this guy when you don't even know his name."

Nesta huffs, "I think his name is Cassian. I heard his roomate yell it out in the yard when he came back last week."

"Cassian," Emerie says, humming like she's considering the quality of his name. "It's not the name I would have thought of for a meathead who only lasts five minutes."

"Did I also tell you he's a gymbro? That rat! With a perfect fuckboy face."

Emerie lifts the screen of her laptop and stops, "Perfect?"

Nesta merely shrugs because she's not blind.

She's also not stupid.

"He's perfectly irritating and I wish him total demise. I think his girlfriend broke up with him—which is about time since they argued twice a week—and on a regular day that would suffice, but now he's inconvenienced me and I want him dead."

"Mhmm," Emerie nods, smirking where she sits across, "and he's got such a perfect fuckboy face."

Nesta scowls, but doesn't move to get her laptop or change the topic of conversation. Emerie only gives Nesta an assessing look. "You don't even go to sleep. You'd have still been up at 5 editing your thesis."

"And I couldn't because I was too distracted by the sound of their partying. Who parties on a fucking tuesday?"

The difference between this and Stu(died) is that Nesta actually has a crush on him and goes through great lengths (ignoring him) to get his attention.

#nessian #nesta archeron #modern nessian au #vidalinav writes snippets #She wants the (Ph)D

73 notes · View notes

theheartofthestar · 9 months ago

Text

Prompt 20 - Florist AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 20th - 837 words

Remus looks up when he hears the door bell chime. It's a slow Tuesday, so he's just been sitting behind the counter catching up on some reading. The four men carry themselves as if they are still school boys, pushing each other and talking above one another, but by their looks Remus can tell they must be around his own age.

One of the men is finally pushed forward, all long, silky black curls framing a handsome face. Sharp nose above a perfect bow of pale lips. Remus eyes trace the man's face up to his eyes, the most beautiful set of grey eyes, unnerving yet appealing. The man clears his throat and Remus lifts his eyebrows, hoping to mask the attraction he feels behind what he hopes comes off as justified annoyance at four grown men acting like boys in a tiny flower shop on a Tuesday afternoon.

"Hi, uhm, you're handsome" the man says, and Remus smirks even through he knows his face is coloring. The other three snort.

"Subtle, Sirius, very subtle" the man with face piercings laughs.

"I mean, have you got, uhm-" Sirius pauses, as if they had walked in without a clear plan on what exactly they wanted to buy from a flower shop. "-flowers?"

"Oh my god"

"Pads!"

"Zero rizz, I swear"

"Yeah, we've got flowers" Remus feels his heart doing acrobatics on his chest. "What type are you looking for?"

"Uhm, eh, I don't know, maybe something like that?" Sirius scrambles to find something around the shop that might look like something that's ready to be sold. He ends up pointing at the flower crowns Remus made this morning, now sitting on a shelf and waiting to be delivered tomorrow morning.

"Flower crowns." Remus says, to confirm. Never mind he feels he'll probably melt if he sees this gorgeous being in a flower crown of all things.

"Yes" Sirius looks awkward, but Remus catches the very clear way his smile also carries a certain flirt. And they say the love of your life will never knock on your door.

"Oh, those are commissioned, they aren't for sale. But how about-" Remus tries to think of a way to keep them in the shop a bit longer. Maybe he'll get lucky and manage to get a phone number. "-how about I teach you how to make them? You pay for the flowers, and I'll just show you how to wave them"

It's a silly idea, but one that Lily has been pestering him about ever since they went together to that sip-and-paint some weeks ago. The dark skinned man immediately perks up.

"Like a workshop?" He says excitedly, and the man who looks just like Sirius groans. Remus thinks maybe they are brothers. "I love workshops! Yes, absolutely! Where do we sit?"

And so starts an afternoon Remus didn't plan on having, stealing glances and sharing small smiles with this handsome angel that happened to walk into his shop. Remus learns their names, listens to their friendly bickering and tries to keep his blush and his breathing under control when Sirius' calf presses against his under the table.

When they are done, the four of them wear their flower crowns proudly. The flowers in James' crown have lost half their petals, rough hands as his are. Barty refused to remove the thorns from his rose's stems, and Remus wonders idly what's up with that. Regulus' crown is by far the prettiest, and blushes brightly when James says as much. But it is Sirius' crown that looks the loveliest, because the loveliest pair of hands wove it.

The group dawdles by the door for a bit before they go, and James very obviously gives Sirius a shove towards the counter behind which Remus is trying to keep his hands busy to avoid staring at the most beautiful being he's ever laid eyes upon. But Sirius says nothing, just smiles a bit awkwardly and so Remus says nothing, just blushes and crinkles his eyes. The friends clearly feel some help is needed, because James comes forward and slings an arm around Sirius' shoulders

"So how long do these last, Remus?" James says, vaguely pointing at his and Sirius' flower crowns. Remus has to clear his throat before answering.

"About four days, I would say-" whatever he was going to continue with is interrupted by James.

"Great! So you can expect Pads here to come by to pick up another one." James pats Sirius on his chest as he says so.

"I can?

"Prongs-"

"Same time next week? Yes? Awesome, he'll bring some coffee too. It's a date, tá!" And with that, James drags a mortified looking Sirius and his other two very amused friends out of the store. Before they slide out of sight, Sirius catches his eye and smiles.

Remus smiles looking at the flower crown in his hands. Next Tuesday can't come fast enough.

(you can read more of my work here)

#wolfstar microfic #florist au #flowershop au #Florist!Remus #remus lupin #sirius black #hp marauders #astra writes #marauders microfic

80 notes · View notes

voxsremotec0ck · 11 months ago

Text

𝐃𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐢.ᐟ

Series

˗ˏˋ A couple gentlemen come in for a business meeting ˎˊ˗

It was a Tuesday so it was relatively slow

The handful of customers Beck had were regulars that were relatively kind and tipped well so it was fine

At least until her boss ran in

“EVERYONE OUT!”

The whole club turned to look at the man

Beck shrugged and turned around

“Not you Beck, I meant the customers!”

Beck groaned and turned back around as the customers started to leave with pissed off grumbles

“What’s going on?”

“The owner is coming here for a private meeting.”

Beck frowned

“What? I thought you were the owner?”

Frank, the bartender, laughed and your boss glared at him

“No I just run the place, the actual owner is the head of VoxTech himself, Vox.”

Beck’s eyes widened

She’s heard of him before, obviously, since the TV demon seems to own everything and be everywhere

He seems like a egotistical asshole

“And you two are the ones that will be working and supplying the drinks for Mr. Vox and his company.”

Beck and Frank both groaned

The next half hour was spent carefully cleaning the club to make sure everything was perfect for when the owner came

Finally the door opened and Beck quickly grabbed her drink tray before walking up to the new customer

The TV demon stood in the doorway with a raised eyebrow

“Hello Sir, welcome back! Your table is right this way.”

Beck held her arm out in the direction of the Table before stepping towards it

“You’re the new girl.”

Vox didn’t ask but stated as he followed behind her

Beck tensed but quickly shook it off as they arrived at the table and she pulled the chair out for the overlord

“Yes I am, I’ve been working here for three months.”

Vox just nodded before sitting down

“What can I get you, Sir?”

“I’ll have a dry martini with extra olives, and remember that as my usual.”

Beck blinked and held back an eye roll

“Of course, Sir, coming right up.”

With an exchange of nods Beck walked away towards the bar, shooting Frank an annoyed look

“Dry tini with extra olives.”

“Ooo your favorite.”

Frank smirked at her as he began making the drink and Beck glared at his sarcasm

Those little green shits are disgusting

“So? First impression?”

Frank leaned over the bar and whispered to her

Beck shrugged

“He’s arrogant just like I thought.”

Frank chuckled and placed the martini with five olives down on her tray

“Good luck.”

Subtly shooting Frank the finger, Beck turned back and carried the drink to Vox

“Here you are, Mr. Vox.”

Beck carefully set the drink on the table

She could feels his eyes watching her every move and it made her skin tingle

“What kind of creature are you?”

Beck froze and turned to him

“What?”

“I don’t recognize a single animalistic trait you have, so what are you?”

She wanted to smack him just like she would any other customer who asked her intrusive questions but she knew she couldn’t

“A sea bunny.”

“A sea bunny? Weird.”

“Says the man with a TV for a head.”

The words were out before Beck could stop them and her eyes widened with fear the moment she registered the slip up

Vox seemed visibly caught off guard by her response and Beck took his quiet shock as her chance

“Mr. Vox I am so sorry-“

“Vox, you are a very hard man to get ahold of.”

Beck’s head whipped towards the new voice and was surprised to see Carmilla Carmine

Quickly Beck walked around the table and pulled a chair out for the weapons dealer

Beck was genuinely worried that the TV demon was going to fire her right then and there, especially with him still staring at her

But instead the demon turned to his quest

“Yes, well I’m a busy man.”

Carmilla just rolled her eyes as she sat down, then turned to Beck

“Red wine, please, dear.”

Beck smiled and nodded, walking back toward the bar

“I made fun of his head. Also I need a glass of red.”

Beck hissed at Frank the moment she made it back to the bar

“You what? And you’re still alive?”

Frank popped the cork off a bottle of wine and began pouring it into a glass

“I don’t want to go back over there.”

“Too bad girly.”

Frank set the glass on her tray and Beck took in a deep breath before turning back around

“Here’s your drink, Ma’am.”

Beck set the wine glass on the table and purposely avoided eye contact with her bosses boss

“If you need anything else, my name is Beck and I’ll be right over there.”

Beck pointed towards the bar before bowing slightly and walking away again

The rest of the night went smoothly

The two overlords held their meeting while nursing their drinks

And Beck and Frank sat at the bar trying to figure out just how badly she fucked up

Two hours another glass each later, the two overlords shook hands before standing up

Carmilla turned and left without sparing Beck another glance

She was honestly thankful for that

Vox however began walking up to her while rebuttoning his suit jacket

“Put the drinks on my tab.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Beck nodded and held her breath as the TV demon eyed her for another minute before turning and leaving

She let out the breath in a relieved sigh

“Holy shit.”

Frank mumbled and Beck just nodded in agreement

Going over to the table to begin cleaning it up, she stopped at the sight of a hundred dollar bill sitting underneath a martini glass

What the…

Damn this is long

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hellaverse oc #hazbin hotel oc #vox x reader #vox x oc #hazbin hotel x oc #check please series

55 notes · View notes

thewrittingratt · 10 months ago

Note

okay awesome, thank you so much! and i agree, there’s a serious lack of charles content on here ❤️ would i be able to request a charles boyle x younger fem!reader who starts out a a new detective at the 99 and charles really obviously has a crush on her. she makes some throwaway comments about wishing she could be a mom and start a family and find “the one” and charles is convinced it’s him. maybe he ends up manipulating reader or baby trapping her during a hook-up (with no smut of course) or he kidnaps her even? honestly you can change it however you’d like for your comfort levels! and i’m fine with anything, also. thank you so much and let me know if you would like help brainstorming:)

A/N: I'm gonna be honest took a little bit of thinking but I like how this turned out! Sorry this took a little while but the power company decided to work on the power lines today

Also reader has a sister

It all started on a Tuesday.

A Tuesday that Charles would never forget. The blinds and the door to Holt's office were closed, indicating that something was up. Charles had asked what was happening "There's someone new joining the precinct. Fresh out of the academy." Gina answered from her desk.

The door opened and to Charles it felt like time frozen when he saw you. You were an absolutely gorgeous young woman. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Y/N L/N. Our newest officer." Holt introduced you. Your smile would forever been burned into his mind.

It was like he knew he'd never want to see you unhappy. "Thank you Captain." you said as you looked at everyone. Then it happened. Your eyes met his. He thinks he stopped breathing before Jake hit his arm. "Dude, she said hi." Jake informed him. Charles let out a breathy "Hi" and you smiled even more(if it was possible)

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

It had been a few weeks since you joined the precinct. And it was obvious to everyone that Charles was completely head over heels for you. He'd stare at you from his desk, in meetings, on cases, hell even when you were interrogating a suspect.

But one day you didn't show up. He found it suspicious. You never missed a day so far. So he was worried. What happened? Was there an accident? We're you sick? He needed to know. So obviously he asked Gina.

"Hey Gina. Have you seen Y/N today?" Gina looked up from her phone "Oh yeah apparently her sister's having a baby." Charles only nodded. You had a sister and he didn't know? He though he knew everything about you. After all you were a very open and honest woman.

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

The next day you returned and Charles couldn't have been happier. I he could but not when he saw you showing Jake pictures of your sisters kids. "What are their names?" Charles asked from behind you, scaring you a bit since you didn't hear him walk behind you. "That one's Henry and that one's Seth." You said pointing to each of them when you said their names.

Later you were still talking about your nephews. "Geez. Why don't you just have a baby?" Gina spoke up, clearly annoyed. You looked at her "I wish I could have one-" you were interrupted "They why don't you Y/N?" Jake asked and you gave a shy smile "I guess I just haven't found 'The one' yet." You answered.

Charles lifted his head from his spot at the coffee machine. You haven't found 'The one' yet? Could he be that for you? Would you ever consider him? Even if you were younger than him? He thought about it most of the time.

It was the perfect daydream: You and him with one- no two kids, you cooking while he sets the table while the kids watch tv. He'd massage your feet when they got sore. He'd go to the store in the middle of the night for your cravings. You'd look so beautiful to him no matter what. He'd-

"Ow!" Charles yelled as he was burned by the coffee he was making. "Oh! Charles, are you ok?" your angelic voice asked "Yeah. I overfilled my cup." he explained as he watches you get some paper towels.

You helped him clean the mess as you spoke "I was wandering if you wanted to go to Shaw's after work? Me, Jake and a few of the others?" god your smile was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Uh- yeah, yeah sure." he stammered as he watched you head back to your desk. Could this be his chance? He sure hoped so.

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

Turns out it was in fact it was his chance. Everyone was so drunk and you just kept going on about wanting a baby in your drunken state. He didn't remember much from that night but he remembered leaving with you.

The next morning when he woke up he was holding somethin- no someone. To be specific, you. He was holding you. And when he went to move you woke up with a 'hmm?'. He frozen.

What was he supposed to do? Should he say something? He didn't know what to do so he just lay there until you did something. Which wasn't for another twelve minutes but he didn't mind as long as he could be this close to you forever.

A/N: I hope you liked this. I'm just running out of ideas rn. so I'll make a pt2 later! but I hope you like where it's going!

#brooklyn 99 x reader #brooklyn 99 #charles boyle #charles boyle x reader

34 notes · View notes

jillsandwhichs · 4 months ago

Text

Heart on my sleeve

A Valenfield Story , Chapter 3, Makin' you sweat

Masterlist

Pairing: Jill Valentine & Chris Redfield

Summary: Chris and Jill do end up going on that run together, get breakfast too as well as getting to know each other even more

WC: 3.7k

Type: SFW

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Must be this apartment complex.

Chris stood outside of the complex Jill is currently residing in. They exchanged phone numbers on Tuesday and now it's Saturday and they've talked quite a bit. They set on Chris meeting her outside her place, then they'll begin their run. It'll be a short one, but a sweat breaker for sure. From Jill's place, Moon Donuts is just a couple minutes away and with running, they'll be there in no time.

He sat down on a bench, the bitter air wooshing past him, it felt good, adrenaline pumping. Since it is December, it's rather cold out. Raccoon City is still expecting that blizzard to hit at any moment, that will be pretty shitty once it happens. Usually, during any snowstorm, work is cancelled due to the main roads being way too icy but sometimes, Wesker doesn't care and has everyone come in anyways. The police department is rather keen on attendence.

Although, any day off Chris can get, he will take glady.

Chris's digital watch read the time. It is currently nine in the morning, a perfect time to start a run; Half of the time, he starts even earlier. He hopes this run will go smoothly. Hopefully he doesn't eat shit right in front of Jill, that would be beyond embarrassing. He would rather fall in front of a group of College girls than Jill. Oddly enough, he'd rather impress her which is a notion he never tends to feel for women. Jill is just special, he supposes.

Another thing with this run is that he'll be able to get to know Jill a bit better. He knows some things such as her music taste, her parents and siblings, but not much else and she seems to be an interesting woman.

Chris has just been opened to an entirely new world recently. When Jill became a S.T.A.R.S member, specifically rear security, things in his mind changed. He had told himself he'd never let someone in, that he'd always keep to himself but yet, Jill makes him want to open up by just being with her. Herself alone is great company and Chris always gets bored with the men at the office. He can't tell if it's just because she's fresh meat or because he genuinely feels for her.

Only time will tell.

The sound of the complexes entry door opening was heard, then he saw Jill walk out. She looked great, even in workout wear.

She was wearing a maroon red jacket with capri black leggings, it was suitable for the weather they were having today. Chris stood up and gave her a quick smile. "You look nice." He complimented her. "Thank you Chris, you do too." She chuckled, pushing her brunette hair out of her face. "Yeah..." He huffed out with a snicker, "You ready or is there anything you have to do first?" "I'm ready, just a second though, I'm going to re-tie these shoes, just for safety measures." She stated as she crouched to do her thing.

Chris nodded, understanding where she was coming from.

Deciding to make some small talk, he spoke up.

"How'd ya sleep last night?" "Good, surprisingly." Jill laughed, focusing on her laces. "You?" "Decent, per usual." Chris replied, his voice soft. "Well then, how's your weekend been?" "Also decent, went to visit my sister yesterday." Chris responded. "Sounds like a fun time. I just stayed inside all of yesterday after work, ordered some food and binged watched some television." Jill said kindly, standing back up after finishing off her second shoe.

"Also sounds fun... You ready now?" "Completely." She snorted and got into a running stance as they both began to jog.

The Arctic air in Raccoon City made this run a tad bit more difficult. The cold breeze flowing down their lungs, it hurt but at the same time felt so damn good. Cold sweats break out a lot quicker too, so Chris was already feeling it. Although, Jill on the other hand, barely breaks one - Lucky. Cars flew in by as they ran, most people driving to diners or into work since sadly, some people are required to work weekends. Not only that, some people were out walking their dogs and keeping their peace.

People often paint Raccoon City as a picture perfect town and while it does appear that way in most cases, it really isn't. Most haven't seen it's dark side. That includes both Jill and Chris.

The sound of snow crunching beneath their fast feet was heard and oddly enough, sounded peaceful. It brought a sense of reality to Chris. Chris's footsteps were much louders than Jill's as he weighs much more, he could hardly hear hers. It wasn't the most safe option, running on snow on a chilly day, but alas. It felt nice. Chris hasn't been on a run in God knows how long so finally getting out and going on one, and it being with a pretty lady, he'll call it a win for him.

"Feeling good?" Jill asked Chris, a slight giggle being heard from her too. "Yeah, haven't been on a jog in quite some time, feels great to break the cycle." He huffed out. "I try to go on them as much as possible, they make me feel alive." Jill hummed out. Her hair bounced as she ran and remained looking perfect. Now how is that possible? Maybe she really is an Angel. "It's weird because my insides feel warm whereas my body actually feels cold, but then again, never have I ever ran in the snow." "Not once?" "Never." Jill replied.

Chris found that surprising. An active girl whose never ran during the Winter time?

"Well alrighty then," He chuckled, "You ready to get breakfast today? I haven't been to the donut shop in some time." "I am, I got their menu in the mail the other day, hung it up on my fridge." "Yeah, they send them out every so often, did you glance over it?" "A little bit, but I wanted to look more at the shop itself." Jill responded, her voice sounding a bit deeper than usual due to the cold air and adrenaline from jogging. It's hard to speak and run, of course, you're running out of breath as it is.

They turned a corner, the big movie LED posters shining brightly. Even whilst it snows, they stay on. Currently, three movies are showing in theatre, a stupid teenage girl film, a film about an undercover agent and another Disney film, all look decent at least. The last time he went to the movies was with his little sister, Claire, for her birthday. She wanted to lay it low that day, so they spent it together. It was nice considering she's always off and gone.

So, so, so many stores surrounded the streets to the city. Raccoon City is notorious for its amount of small businesses, that is how a lot of companies started out, was here. Now, a couple companies have gained massive audiences and are doing well for themselves, such as Umbrella. Chris doesn't know too much about it aside from the fact they sell just about everything. Medicine, drinks, food, etc, they seem decent enough although he's never purchased anything from them besides Aquacure.

While running, Jill spoke up, asking Chris a question. "What's that place?" "It's a boutique. There's two in the city, one here and one down by Moons too." "Ah, nice." Jill nodded, turning her head back forward. "I don't perceive you as the girly type though." Chris stated. Truthfully, she came off as a tomboy, which is very attractive in his eyes. "Oh? Well, I'll have you know I'm very into modeling, makeup too. If I wasn't an officer, I bet I could've done modeling." "Yeah, you could've." Chris blurted out, feeling a bit stupid afterwards.

He wasn't wrong though.

She definitely could've and still can, she's stunning.

"You think so? I always thought of it morely as a 'maybe'." Jill spoke softly, her lack of confidence making a breakthrough. It's not that she totally lacked it, Jill is aware she's not ugly and has nice looks, but looks for a model? Absolutely not. But to Chris, he feels otherwise. "I think so. You're gorgeous, Jill." Chris tried his best to remain cool about her question. What was he gonna do, fan girl? No. He doesn't wanna seem like a weirdo but yeah, she's hot or whatever.

"Thank you." She cooed to him, her eyes on his face momentarily. Their eye contact was short lived yet intimate in the best way imaginable. "You're welcome, Jill."

He felt the need to run faster now, it felt refreshing. Both things currently felt like a fresh breath of air - The run & Jill. Just being around her awakens something in him. He doesn't mean to feel like a cliche, but she's like a God send. For all the times he's felt down, he's wondered how having a special person in his life would feel. How having someone in his life who he can come to consistently would feel. Not to jump the gun but, maybe, just possibly, Jill could be that very person for him.

It's only a matter of whether or not she feels the same way.

Running even more, they were only about a minute away from 'Moons Donuts' and both of them were increasingly more excited. "What's your usual there?" "Two donuts and a coffee but if I'm not feeling something sweet, I'll get a hot breakfast." "Donuts sound great, especially after this run." Jill tittered. "Good to get some calories back in, huh?" "Definitely." Jill giggled, her cheeks puffing up as she did. Seeing Jill's laughs warmed Chris's heart up. Just seeing her happy in general does.

The wind around them began to pick up. A light amount of snow began to trickle down onto them, and even the snow on the ground started to woosh around them. The burst of cold air felt lovely but at the same time, bad. Chris shivered, his body suddenly getting colder than before, he could feel his hands becoming numb from the cool atmosphere.

"We should pick up the pace, I'm starting to get colder than I should be." "Gotcha." She gave him a determined nod, her legs jogging more briskly. Chris was grateful that she was able to do something so small yet kind for him. He did the same. His fibrow legs bolted faster, he even passed Jill. "Hey," She snickered, "Wait up, Chris!" She also bolted, now passed him. A little competition? Chris doesn't mind one bit.

Moons Donuts was just ahead of them, directly in view. "Let's race then." Chris shouted, his throat feeling scraggly from the chipper winds. "You're on, now!" Jill yelled back, running as fast as she could. "Not fair." Chris chortled, his legs trying their best. He had to give it to her - She is quick. But most definitely not as quick as he can be. Right as Jill hit the stairs that lead down to the second set right before the diner, Chris jumped down them, taking a huge risk.

He didn't wanna fall flat on his ass in front of her, yet he gave it a shot, going to show how competitive he is.

"Holy moly!" She bursted out into a bellow, watching as Chris jumped and landing perfectly. "That was-" She giggled, "Not expected." She stopped running, deeming Chris as the winner. "Guess that means I won?" "I'll give it to you." Jill said sarcastically, it was cute how she spoke sometimes... Or all the time... They now casually ambled down the steps together, side by side, both being careful as to not slip on the ice currently forming on the platforms.

"Looks a little busy." Jill voiced, referencing the donut shop. "It may be, but it's alright, yeah?" "Mhm." She gave him a friendly nod.

Chris opened the door for her, allowing her to enter first. "Ladies first?" "Hah, thank you." Jill snickered, strolling inside. Chris looked around outside for a few seconds before entering the diner. The smell of the fresh breakfast aroma was pleasant as can be and the sounds of families and couples enjoying it brought glee to Chris and Jill. They're both empaths. "Smells amazing." "Tell me about it." Chris agreed with her. It smells all kinds of good. A couple people were in front of Chris and Jill, giving them some time to decide what they'll each order.

"Whatcha thinkin'? I'll pay, it's on me." Chris pulled out his brown leather wallet. A deep concerning look came over Jill's face. "Hey, no no, I can pay for myself." Jill set her hands on Chris's, almost seemingly trying to push his hands away so he'll stuff his wallet back. "Woah, no. You're going to let me pay. It's the least I can do for you accompanying me this morning." Chris countered her pleas, really wanting to do just this one thing for her. "My guilty conscious won't let me." "And my guilty conscious won't let me allow a lady to pay for herself when a man is right here." "Isn't that a bit sexist?" "No, it's chivalrous." Chris snickered, Jill's blushing was obvious.

Maybe she just doesn't want to admit it, but it's clear Jill enjoyed Chris being a gentleman. He doesn't mind. For a woman like her, he'd buy way more, this is nothing compared to what he can do for her.

"What're you feeling though? A donut? Coffee? Muffin?" Chris listed a couple random items, wanting to see if any sounded appealing to her. Jill's eyes went back to his face, a sense of timidness bubbling inside of him. Her eyes on him, it was nerve wracking. What if he looks dumb? Chris worries too much, he has no clue where he gets it from... "I thought about getting a glazed donut and coffee, I'm usually not very hungry in the morning." "Good choice then, I'll order it for you, how about you go sit down, I'll meet you there."

Jill gave him a soft smile, her eyes reminded him of pearls. She nodded and turned around, taking a seat at a booth in the corner of the diner. There was only one more person in front of Chris and they were finishing up their order. Moons Donuts seems to keep it hastey with taking orders and completing them. The staff has adapted to the business they tend to receive on weekends, especially in the earlier hours of the day.

The man in front of Chris finished and walked off, sitting down and waiting for his order. Chris stepped up, wallet in hand as he began to order. "I'll just take one glazed donut with warm coffee... I'll also take two bagels with straight black coffee." "You got it, sir. It'll be done here shortly." The kind woman responded. Chris smiled in a friendly way. "Thanks." He set the cash on the cleansed counter and turned around, wandering over to the booth Jill had chosen for them.

He sat down, taking notice of her pale face - The cold air probably got to her. "You okay?" "Yeah, just thirsty." "Ah," Chris shook his head up and down, "Your coffee will be here shortly, it should be refreshing, their coffee is great." Chris reassured her. Whenever Chris was speaking with Jill, his voice was softer than it normally is. What is it about her that captivates him so immensely? He feels the need to stare at her, talk to her, everything, all of it. Jill is an extraordinary woman and yet, Chris is only at the tip of the iceberg as to who she is as a person.

"Can I ask you something? Or an array of things? I just wanna get to know you better." Chris said with confidence. She isn't going to say no or avoid the question, if she were to, she wouldn't even be here in the first place. Or maybe Chris is just too cocky. "Well, sure, what is your question?" Jill's eyes twinkled as she stared at him, that made Chris feel a particular way, causing him to lose track of his words. "Well, I, it's- Ok." He laughed, rubbing his temple and trying not to feel embarrassed which was hard as all hell.

Jill tittered, her laugh so gleeful that it made Chris feel better by yards.

"Happens to the best of us," Jill said kindly, "Let's take turns asking one another questions, sure? I can go first." "A whole lot better than my idea. Go on." Chris laughed, running his fingers through his deep, dark brown hair. "Okay... What is your favorite color?" "Green, easy. Love it." "Go figure." Jill cackled, "Mine is blue but I fear that's quite obvious." She snickered. "Now, your turn." "Alright... Favorite animal?" "Great question, but I have multiple. Dolphins, dogs and foxes." "Cute but you do know dolphins are evil little critters, right?" Jill sat there for a second after he said that. He wasn't wrong. "Shhh." She giggled, Chris chuckled too.

She is so cute.

Chris thought for a moment. What were also his favorite animals? He finds all of them adorable. "I guess if I had to pick, I think Lions are beautiful and majestic... I'll have to go with them." "Rightfully so, they are gorgeous animals." Jill nodded, her lips making a curvy look, almost as if she was pouting, but not. "Favorite film? Mines a tie between the Ailen movies and Dirty Dancing." Jill said with honesty. Chris found her picks surprising. He didn't take her for a sci-fi enjoyer but alas

"Not gonna lie, Ailen? That was the last thing I expected you to enjoy." "All the films are very good, it's my cup of tea. Dirty Dancing is a guilty pleasure." Jill snorted. "Fair, fair... I like horror movies mainly. Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Poltergeist have always been my go-to movies." "Oh, both are terrifying but I love them as well." Jill nodded. Chris felt happy in this very moment, just by getting to know her a little bit more. Jill is such an interesting woman.

Chris heard the sound of a woman's voice listing of their order, knowing he had to go and grab it. "Be right back." Chris leered at her before quickly standing up and marching to grab their food. "That'll be mine." Chris told the worker, kindly taking the food from her hands. "Have a nice meal." "Thanks." Chris brought their food and drinks back over to the booth and he arranged it so her food was on her side, and his food was on his. It was organized neatly.

"Thank you Chris." Jill said with a serene tone. "It looks good." Jill picked her donut up, a brown clear coat wrapping around it. "They are. I just got to regular bagels." Chris stated, taking his food out of its coating.

He began to spread the plain cream cheese all over all four slices, it smelt delicious; Chris couldn't wait to fuel his body up. Jill was already digging in which made Chris happy. She should eat, she just ran a good bit and eating after running is healthy. Once the cheese was spread nicely, Chris picked a slice up and took a chomp out of it, his body grateful for the nutrients. He finished his first bite and asked Jill yet again, another question.

"So, favorite food?" "Great question. Honestly, anything savory but especially Chinese food. I adore Chinese food." Jill cackled, sipping on her coffee which seemed to brighten her mood by a bit. "Understandable. I love breakfast foods. Eggs, sausage, cheese, etc, all of it is good to me." "Weird because I am totally the opposite," She replied, "I'm so much more of a dinner person, steak, pasta, potatoes, rice, etc, all of it is amazing." "Honestly, I love all food." Chris chuckled, earning a cutesy giggle from Jill.

They ate in silence for a bit.

It felt redeeming. Chris felt as though maybe he is finding himself? Through all of the anger and frustration he has put himself through these past couple years, maybe this is an outlet - Having someone like her around. Or maybe he's a damn fool. A fool whose damned to hell. Chris doesn't know it yet, but there is so, so, so much in store for him.

They eventually finished their food up, their conversation continuing to be casual and friendly until Jill says something rather questionable yet beautiful.

"I like being around you Chris. I heard some false rumors about you but I've out those aside. You're great." Jill cooed to him, her eyes so gentle and sweet it made Chris weak to the core. She doesn't understand how he is as a person but she'll learn. Chris has intense anger issues that he prays Jill will never witness, she doesn't deserve that. Chris gazed at her, his mouth slightly agape at her sentence. Does she really mean that?

"You're a sweet girl, Jill. Thank you. I enjoy being with you too." Chris vocalized softly, a heavy weight on his heart. For all the times he's caused someone pain over something minor, that guilt rests within him, and for some reason, with Jill, he wants to let it all go so he can proceed on with being a better man.

Only knowing her a week doesn't mean much, he feels like it's been forever. Time flies by when you're with someone special, huh?

"We should get going then, we're finished." Chris breathed in deeply, trying to hide his emotions. "You okay?" "Mhm." Chris nodded, cleaning up their food.

"I just don't think you realize how much that means to me, Jill." Chris whispered to her, their eye contact full of passion. "I think I do." Jill replied, setting her hand on top of his but soon pulled it away and stood up. "But you're right, we should." She collected herself and gave him a smile. "I'll be outside waiting." "Yeah, okay." Chris gave her a nod as she began to walk out.

Does she though?

#resident evil #tumblr fyp #chris redfield #jill valentine #valenfield #valenfield fanfiction #heart on my sleeve fanfic #chris x jill #jill x chris #romance #resident evil series #resident evil fanfiction #daily valenfield #valenfield otp #ship post #please reblog

8 notes · View notes