#and he realizes how obnoxious he's been lol

[d-emeter]

Secret Santa on base (but the entire 141 is desperate to pull you) — plus-size!fem!reader x task force 141

CW: christmas (?), the boys being a little bit creepy but they're just in love leave them be, allusions to sexual activity

So this somehow ended up from Laswell's pov for the most part lol but it switches to reader for the end! Also happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! <3

When Laswell had brought up the idea of doing a secret santa on base — well, it had been her wife who said they needed some more holiday cheer, and who was she to deny that? — she had not expected it to become something akin to a battlefield. Maybe she should have known better, the soldiers surrounding her were competitive by nature. Winning was always the main goal.

But this time, there was no enemy to defeat, no intel to gain, no hostage to save. No, this time, you were the objective. Laswell was not stupid, in fact, it was her job to be observant, to figure out that which others could not. And to her, Task Force 141 was an open fucking book.

It was in the way Price would leave his hand on your shoulder after offering you an encouraging pat, and how that hand would move lower down your arm or back while he talked to you. It was in the way Ghost would always prepare an extra cup of tea to bring to early morning briefings, trying to subtly push it your way while you were rubbing at your eyes. It was in the way Gaz would lean over you when you asked him to come look at something on your laptop, arms on either side of you and practically caging you in. It was in the way Soap would always find a way to touch you, without fail, calling you 'bonnie' or 'love' in that obnoxious Scottish accent as he threw an arm over your shoulders. It was especially in the way the other three would scowl at whoever had your attention for the moment. It was clear as fucking day — they all wanted you.

Laswell knew this and, in hindsight, should have taken that into account when organizing the gift exchange. This realization came when Price knocked on her door just after the announcement had made the rounds. He had inquired if she was going to be the one to select the secret santa's, and if he could maybe take a look with her — just to make sure they weren't pairing up people that disliked eachother and causing issues, he explained. When she told him no, some random online generator would do just fine, Kate got her confirmation that he was lying about his motives — she'd never seen the captain look that disappointed.

After the secret santa's had been given out, she realized that maybe it was time to do some damage control. She had walked into the rec room to find Gaz grilling everyone in there on who they pulled, seeming more agitated each time they did not answer with what he wanted to hear. A few hours later, he had apparently found the one he was looking for, as Laswell overheard someone talking about how Sergeant Mactavish had offered the person in question nearly 100 bucks to switch. Then the report came in about Lieutenant Riley threatening that very same person, and Laswell had had enough.

REMINDER: SECRET SANTAS ARE FINAL AND CANNOT BE EXCHANGED.

She pretended not to hear the huffing from Price as he read the email she had sent around.

Kate had hoped the situation had been subdued with that, yet still couldn't shake the weird feeling in her underbelly when the base christmas party came around. Everything seemed fine, at first; there stood a sadly decorated plastic tree in the corner, lights were strung up around the room and the secret santa table was overflowing with badly wrapped gifts. Everything would be fine, right?

—

Wrong.

You had been excited about the gift exchange. It was a fun way to interact with some of your coworkers that you hadn't done so with yet, and you had always liked giving out presents. You tried not to beam too bright when Kate unwrapped the gift you had got her, and got up excitedly when your name was called. It was nothing special, really; a cute mug with a bar of chocolate inside, courtesy of some random private you had never really had the chance to talk to. You were grateful nonetheless.

But then your name was called again. And again. And again. The flush of embarrassment grew with each one. By the end of the night, you had five gifts in total, somehow. The second gift was a bottle of perfume, and you had to stifle a gasp as you saw the brand — it had to have been close to three figures in price. You tentatively spray some on your wrist, and- Hadn't you smelled something similar on Gaz when he greeted you earlier?

The third gift was a basket filled with goodies; all your favourite sweets and snacks, a pair of fuzzy socks, a book you had had on your wishlist for a while, and, wait, was that..? You're so preoccupied with using the socks to hide the box of XXL condoms that you don't notice how Ghost's fingers move to adjust himself in his pants.

You start to feel really flustered when your fourth gift is handed to you, trying not to flounder under all the stares you're getting. The box looks expensive, and reveals a gorgeous pearl necklace when you open it — God, that must've been at least triple the given budget. You have to hide the added note from view when you read it: 'Just a placeholder until I can give you a pearl necklace of my own -S'.

You don't even open the fifth gift, choosing instead to quickly accept it and ushering the announcer into calling the next name. You feel a little faint when you actually open it once you're in the privacy of your room — it's a fucking vibrator. The little instruction manual says something about it being remote controlled — so where is the controller?

[vladdyissues]

DANNY PHANTOM | "Music Masters"

After Danny gets bewitched by one of Ember's love ballads, Vlad has to return to his Skunk Punk roots and fight music with music in a bid to cure Danny of his love sickness.

[guiltyasdave]

like snow on the beach

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: ~2.8k

summary: You're on a work trip with your boss, who you don't like and who you're convinced doesn't like you either. Unfortunately, there's only one bed.

tags/warnings: only one bed trope (ayyyy), fluff, idiots in love, alternating povs, reader has hair that drips down her neck after showering at one point but there are no texture or color descriptors, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, my nonexistent knowledge of colombian geography which i'm asking you to ignore for the sake of this silly story THANK YOU

a/n: my entry for the summer lovin' challenge brought to us by queens @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery and @amanitacowboy <3 i got the moodboard you see in the header and the location by the water. i'm also posting a little early but i'm too excited and it's almost midnight here so i think it's gonna be fine hehe

biggest love to @sizzlingcloudmentality who held my hand through writing this and patiently listened to all my complaints lol. i love drinking more caffeine than pedro and writing with you while getting distracted by cats <3

dividers by @plum98!

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs to get notified when i post a new fic :)

You’re hot, too hot. 

It’s disorienting, as you blink awake, slow to get your bearings. Arms are wrapped around you, caging you in, engulfing you in the warmth of the body pressed against your back. Hot air is fanning against your neck, accompanied by a scratching sensation on the sensitive skin. 

Your surroundings are unfamiliar, faded wallpaper in an unappealing shade of green and light filtering in through the battered up blinds. It comes back to you in pieces, the motel you’re staying at, the small Colombian town where you’re hoping to get a hold of one of the Cali cartel men. 

The obnoxious scent of Peña’s aftershave is flooding your nostrils, paired with the traces of tobacco that follow him everywhere he goes. It’s honestly embarrassing, how easily you recognize it.

It clicks into place now. The arms around you, the warmth. The scratch that you now realize is his mustache as he’s breathing against your neck.

You start wriggling around, causing the man behind you to stir, a confused groan coming out slightly muffled, his mouth still so close to your skin. He lets go of you after a second, allowing you to turn around and glare at him. 

His face is already forming his signature annoyed scowl, an expression that you’re more than well acquainted with.

“What the hell are you doing?!” 

He sounds different like this, voice still thick with sleep, a hint of the disorientation that you’ve shaken off by now. 

“What am I doing? I woke up with your arms around me, Peña.” 

He blinks, shifting to sit up and lean against the headboard. You mirror him, putting as much space between you as the rather small bed frame allows. 

“Sorry,” he allows after a beat, running a hand through his hair, tousling the mess of black strands that has formed in his sleep. “That wasn’t… appropriate. I apologize.” 

If you weren’t as annoyed right now, you’d probably think that he looks adorable like this. The you from a few months ago would most likely go wild at seeing Javier Peña right after waking up, after he held you in his arms no less. 

The you from a few months ago hadn’t experienced what an asshole of a boss he could be yet, hadn’t been taken off investigations again and again, because Peña thought you weren’t ready. She also hadn’t heard about his terrible reputation with women, hadn’t been subjected to all the office gossip that surrounded him yet. 

Now, after days of practically begging him to take you along on this trip because the whole investigation was based on information that you had gathered, you’re stuck in this motel room with him. Something about your booking of two single rooms accidentally having been processed as one double room, with no other rooms available because of course there weren’t. 

Peña had offered to sleep on the ground, or in the car, but you had waved him off, thinking about how often he had complained how his back was getting worse the older he got on the drive here. You hadn’t expected to wake up to him all but wrapped around you. 

Maybe a small, very small part of you is still going wild about it. A part that you can easily swallow down though. He’s objectively attractive, yes. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s an asshole.

“Just forget it,” you mumble, heat rising belatedly in your cheeks. Gathering your clothes for the day, you flee to the bathroom, eager to wash the whole decidedly weird situation off your body and out of your mind. You’re here because you have a job to do, not to get flustered around your boss. 

When you reemerge, wet strands of your hair dripping down your neck, he’s already dressed, clasping his hands in a way that almost seems nervous. If you weren’t pretty convinced that Javier Peña isn’t physically able to get nervous. 

“I– I’m really sorry,” he repeats, raising from the worn down arm chair he’s been sitting in. “I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. I’m not– I’m not exactly used to sharing a bed.”

A scoff leaves you at that. Sure, Agent Peña, who’s notorious for sleeping with his informants and with at least half of the female staff of the American embassy, isn’t used to sharing his bed. 

“Don’t worry about it, Peña.” 

You turn away before he can reply, collecting your notes on the investigation that you hope will come in helpful eventually. You don’t catch the remorseful look in his eyes, or the way they linger on you as you open the door, the early morning light illuminating your figure.

It’s another day filled with nothing but waiting and growing frustration, just like the one before. The sun is beating down on the car that you’re occupying, the heat suffocating even with the windows rolled down and the cool bottle of water that you’re pressing against your neck.

Minutes tick by, turning into hours that go by too quickly and seem to last forever at the same time. Peña is surprisingly quiet, not goading you in the way you had expected him to. 

“Maybe the information was bad,” you mumble eventually, sinking deeper into the car seat. The leather is sticking uncomfortably to your skin and you can’t shake the growing feeling that you’ve insisted on coming out here for nothing.

He slowly turns his head in your direction, regarding you through the dark tint of his aviators. 

“I looked at it. We wouldn’t be here if it was bad.” 

You huff, your patience running short and shorter at the subtle indication of his superiority, his quiet arrogance, always so fucking sure of himself.

“You weren’t exactly thrilled about coming here, remember?”

He raises a brow, a hint of impatience on his own features.

“I wasn’t thrilled about you coming here.” 

You roll your eyes, openly scowling at him now. 

“It’s my intel.”

“Doesn’t make it less dangerous, does it?” 

Biting your lip, you force your blood to not boil over. He’s still your boss, at the end of the day, someone you probably shouldn’t start cussing out, no matter how openly he underestimates you and how badly it annoys you. And you’re gonna have to share that wretched bed with him again tonight. 

Javier watches your face, watches you swallow down your anger, watches your teeth digging into your plush bottom lip. He understands your frustration, understands that no part of this trip is turning out the way you expected it to. 

You’re still new to the workfield, not yet experienced with the hours upon hours of waiting, more often than not without a satisfying result to show for it. If he’s being honest with himself, he isn’t mad about it this time. He’ll rather have you frustrated than in danger. 

You want to prove yourself, you’ve made that abundantly clear. You work hard, determined to bring in results, hungry for praise. It’s not that he doesn’t see that, doesn’t think that you’re capable. But he’s seen enough, enough injuries, enough psychological trauma, enough deaths, to know that he wants you far away from that side of your work. 

Even if that means you’re angry at him more often than not, a glint of bitterness in your eyes every time he refuses to send you out yet again. 

After another few hours, accompanied by the increasing rumbling in both your stomachs, he finally calls it quits for the day. 

“We can drive back to Bogotá tomorrow,” he quietly offers on the way back to the motel, after picking up food for the both of you and refusing to let you pay for your share. “Gather more information, see why we didn’t find anything.”

You huff in return, irritated about the whole situation. The one chance you had to convince him to take you seriously, and this is what you get. “Fine,” you agree, gritting your teeth. Maybe your intel was bad. Maybe you just aren’t that good at your job.

“Keep to your side of the bed tonight,” you grumble later, after the bored woman at the reception told you that there still aren't any other rooms available. 

“Of course,” he sighs, sliding under the covers with the biggest possible distance from you.

You nod, closing your eyes and willing for sleep to take you, but it’s a losing game. You toss and turn, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time, unable to find a comfortable position and to get the voices in your head to shut up. 

When you roll over yet again, his voice rings through the dark, somewhat agitatedly asking what’s wrong. 

“Nothing,” comes your frustrated reply, pressing your face deeper into the cushion, your eyes squeezed shut. After a few more breaths and zero sign of your brain slowing down, you turn towards him, only able to make out his silhouette in the dark. Your judgment is probably hazy with how tired you are, but the words are out of your mouth before you can think them over.

“Can I ask you a question, Agent Peña?” 

“Javier is fine.” 

Your heart gives a tiny flutter, despite your conflicted feelings about him, despite the question that you’re about to ask. 

“Why do you not like me?” 

It’s inappropriate, especially right now, lying in the dark and sharing a fucking bed with him. But you think that if you don’t ask now, you probably never will, and you need to know. 

“Why would you think that I don’t like you?” 

You huff, squinting at him. “It’s pretty obvious. You don’t trust my work, you never send me to go out, dismiss my intel most of the time–” 

It’s silent for a long time, safe for his quiet breaths. 

“That’s not–” He sighs deeply, turning his head towards you as well. “That’s not true. You’re making it about yourself when you shouldn’t. I treat you exactly like your colleagues, you’re the one taking it personal.” 

It’s curt, dismissive. Laced with carefully feigned indifference, bordering on coldness. Too carefully. You didn’t think he’d lie to you if you asked him this directly, but here you are. 

Blinking back angry tears, you roll onto your back again, unseeingly staring at the ceiling. You don’t understand why it hits you like this. You’ve had shitty bosses before, far worse than Peña. You’ve just never wanted them to like you the way you want him to. 

“Good night, Agent Peña.” You turn onto your other side, your back towards him. 

“Good night,” comes his solemn reply. 

You don’t wake up with his arms around you again, thankfully, but he hasn’t exactly kept to his side of the bed either. One hand is curled over your shoulder, like he had to reach out and hold onto you in his sleep. 

You’re the one taking it personal. 

Clearly he hasn’t been reaching for you specifically. It’s probably just second nature for him, something that usually goes well with the women sharing his bed. 

You’re able to shake his hold off without waking him up, something that you’re grateful for. 

When he wakes and repeats how he thinks you should abandon the investigation, you don’t argue. It’s a quiet affair, packing up and getting ready to leave. 

Sitting in the driver’s seat, he turns to you, his brow furrowed into that moody expression you’ve gotten used to. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins, eyeing you warily. “We’re not far from the ocean right now. Have you been to the beach since you came to Colombia?” 

You raise an eyebrow in mild suspicion, curious where he’s going with this. 

“I haven’t been out of Bogotá since I landed there. But–” 

His eyes grow softer, his hand twitching like he almost reached out towards you. 

“No buts. At least then it won’t have been a total waste of time to come here, right?” 

The dig towards you, towards the reason you drove all the way out here for nothing isn’t lost on you. You don’t have it in you to argue against it, so you just nod, staring straight ahead. 

Javier realizes how badly you misunderstood his words as soon as they’re out of his mouth and he sees your face. He doesn’t know how he consistently manages to fuck up his interactions with you like this. It’s not him, the blundering, the words constantly coming out all wrong, but you make him nervous in a way that he hasn’t experienced in years. 

He starts driving, hopeful to somehow still be able to turn this trip around. There’s a whole day on the road ahead of them, and he’d much rather spend those hours without feeling like he’s made you hate him. 

You do soften at the sight of the ocean, the sound of waves rolling against the shore having a soothing effect almost instantly. It’s beautiful, the water a brilliant blue, the sun glittering on the surface. You can’t be mad right now, not even at Javier, who’s keeping his distance, letting you wander along the shore by yourself. 

You focus on taking in the scenery, hoping to somehow take it with you to when you’re back in your bleak, government issued apartment, staring at the vastness of gray buildings that is of Bogotá. 

When you turn back to him, his eyes are already on you, less tense, more open than you’re used to. You don’t know how long they’ve been lingering on you, how little attention he had been paying to the nature surrounding you. How good it had felt, to see you like this, without the usual distaste in your face that you have come to regard him with most of the time. The silhouette of you against the bright sky, your skin glowing under the beaming sun. 

“Thank you,” you say, actually smiling at him. A spark of warmth grows in his chest. “This was a good idea, I– I enjoyed it.” 

“I’m glad.” He eagerly returns the smile, allows himself to reach out and graze one finger against the soft skin of your hand. Finding himself unable to stop touching you, now that he’s had a taste of it.

Confusion crosses your face before you quickly avert your eyes, but you don’t pull away. It gives him a sliver of hope, that maybe you’re starting to understand what he doesn’t know how to tell you. 

After a mostly quiet drive back, both of you too exhausted to talk much, Javier drops you off at your apartment, his hand once again hovering over yours before you get out. 

“Good night,” he breathes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. After a moment of hesitation, he continues on. “You– you’re doing good work. Don’t beat yourself up over this, okay?” 

You manage a nod, murmuring thank you, Javier before opening the car door and stepping out onto your street, illuminated by the glow of yellow lights. You only realize that you used his first name by the time that your apartment door falls shut behind you. It doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. 

Breathing in the familiar scent of your own place, a deep relief washes over you, reveling in the knowledge that you’re gonna sleep in your own bed tonight, alone. You turn on your shower, eager to let the warm water soothe your muscles, stiff from spending the entire day in a car. 

When you exit the bathroom, wrapped into a towel and with a cloud of steam accompanying you, your answering machine is blinking. You press the button to let the message play, moving through your apartment to put on your comfiest sleepwear and ready to fall straight into bed. 

You stop in your tracks when Javier’s voice rings through the room, tripping over the words in a way that’s difficult to associate with the calm, self-assured man that you know. 

“Hey, it’s Javier. You– you’re probably showering, or already asleep. I just– I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings these past days, or– or any day, really. I wanted you to know that. You’re good at what you do, you really are, but– I worry about you, I guess. And I know that I shouldn’t, that I shouldn’t treat you differently. It’s– it’s not because I don’t like you. I like you too much, if anything, and– and now I know what it’s like to sleep next to you, and– anyway, I’m– shit, I’m making a fool of myself. Just– just call me back. Please.”

Your hand finds your phone as soon as the recording ends.

thank you for reading! as always, reblogs, comments and asks are love and absolutely make my day <3

[mysaintkitten]

more free use/dumbification for tommy and robert please i beg!! ur so talented!

thank you so much !! and although this request asked for free use or dumbification, it’s mostly the latter. will definitely be writing more free use fics though !!

Nocturnal | Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

prompt: a late night run in with Tommy (lol)

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), sort of mean tommy, unprotected sex, dumbification

Ada Shelby had been your closest friend for as long as you could remember. Everything you’d been through, good and bad, was made manageable with her by your side. The only thing you couldn’t stand was her brother, Tommy. Just the thought of him alone made you want to roll your eyes.

He was arrogant, stubborn, dominant, and worst of all: devilishly attractive. It drove you mad. How could such a gorgeous face be attached to such a vile man?

You’d even bicker occasionally over the smallest things before Ada would come between you and act as a mediator, because of course neither of you could push your pride down long enough to just end the conversation.

But, due to life simply being unpredictable, you had to distance yourself from Ada for about a year. You still stayed in touch, weekly letters updating each other about your lives and new experiences, but life had just become too hectic to make genuine plans.

Luckily though, things began to mellow out and eventually you and Ada were able to make plans to have a sleepover- just like old times.

The two of you spent the late night and early a.m’s chatting and giggling like school girls, until you noticed Ada’s faint snoring as you told a long elaborate story about a horrific professor you had to deal with. With that, you realized the night had come to a close.

Before you followed her in drifting to sleep, you decided to get a drink of water before bed. Tiredly, you left her bedroom and trudged towards the dimly lit room. As you stepped into the kitchen and reached for a glass from the cupboard, you quickly realized you weren’t alone.

“(Y/N)?” You hear a familiar male voice mutter from behind you, causing you to jump and nearly drop the glass out of your hand from being startled. You swiftly turn around on your feet, only to see Tommy sitting there. Of course he’s around the moment Ada’s asleep.

As he sees your face he chuckles and brings a cigarette up to his lips, “didn’t mean to scare you, love.”

“A bit late for that …” you mumble back while trying to relax your racing heart, “why are you up so late?”

Tommy raises his eyebrows and smirks before answering, “I could ask you the same question.”

“Me and Ada were talking, I wanted some water before bed,” you answer as you fill your glass up, “and you?”

“What were you two girls gabbing about? Makeup? Boys?” Tommy replies while ignoring the question you’d asked him, you shake your head and sigh. Tommy knows where your aspirations lie, he’s just trying to push your buttons.

“I don’t exactly have time for a boys right now, my focus is on university,” you clarify before taking a sip of water.

Tommy chuckles condescendingly as he hears you mention ‘university’, earning a confused glare from you as you take a step closer towards Tommy’s seat at the kitchen table.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” Tommy assured unconvincingly between inhales, “I just don’t think university is the best way for a young woman to spend her time.”

Your face contorts into visual disdain, it’s times like this where you wonder if he’s being obnoxious just to piss you off or if he’s truly just this annoying, “and where exactly do you think a young woman should be spending her time?”

“Women are happiest when they’re kept in their place,” Tommy explained flatly as he takes a drag of his cigarette, “doing housework in the day, and in bed taking her husband’s cock at night.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his ignorant and blatantly misogynistic remarks, what kind of women has Tommy been around for him to genuinely believe this?

“I’m not sure what kind of ladies you’ve been seeing, Tommy, but most women I know have dreams, ambitions, goals,” you retort as you take another step closer towards Tommy with a foreign sense of confidence, “and they desire much more in life than being just some man’s personal come dump.”

He chuckles while putting out his cigarette, proceeding to stand to his feet and slowly make his way over to you,

“Thats what you all think,” Tommy states lowly as he walks closer and closer, “that you’re special and different, but really, you’re all the same. Once you get fucked so good you’re seeing stars, all those little dreams go out the window.”

You step backwards ploddingly as your cheeks burn, not knowing how to respond to Tommy’s crude comment. Suddenly, his face is mere inches away from yours.

“And judging by your little proclamation,” Tommy’s gaze drifts to your soft lips before locking eyes with you again, “you haven’t experienced that, love.”

You couldn’t define what you were feeling, frustration? Exhaustion? Arousal? Your body buzzed with inscrutable energy, and the rational part of your brain attempted to take over and de escalate the situation.

“I-I should just go to bed, Tommy …” you whine weakly as your eyes nervously dart around, suddenly finding Tommy’s stare and demeanour incredibly overwhelming. His dominance mixed with the masculine scent of whisky and tobacco made your heart flutter.

“Why don’t you just see what it’s like, hm?” Tommy purrs as he places his hands on your hips, you suck in a quick surprised breath- but you don’t push him away, “to get fucked so good you forget your own name …”

You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that it had been so long since you’d been properly touched, or because part of you had some sort of attraction toward Tommy, but you found yourself wanting more.

Tommy notices your hesitance and tries to warm you up the best way he knows how by placing gentle kisses on your neck, causing your mouth to drop open with a small gasp. He smirks when you react exactly how he was expecting you to. As he continues to kiss, his left hand snakes down your back and grips your ass.

“What if Ada hears …” you whine back, feeling pitiful at how easily you gave into his advances. Tommy hums against your neck before pulling his head out and easing his hand up to the small of your back.

“She’s a heavy sleeper, we’ll be fine,” Tommy breathed as he feels his straining cock twitch in his pants. With his hands on your hips, he turns you around so your back is flush against the front of his body.

“Hold on to the counter,” Tommy coos into your ear as he grabs your wrist with his strong hands and placed them onto the counter in front of you, “and keep your mouth shut.”

You anxiously grip the counter, involuntarily noticing your equally high levels of lust and consternation. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth when you feel Tommy’s hands begin to bunch up the back of your dress, appreciating the view of your ass with a low grunt. With his free hand, he hooks his finger into your panties and tugs them to the side, uncovering your holes for him.

Using the same hand, he runs his middle and ring finger between your folds while you already start to struggle staying quiet, he chuckles breathily as he feels your arousal spill onto his fingers.

“Do you always get this wet when men force themselves onto you?” Tommy groans as his fingers slide up towards your clit, rubbing small circles onto the sensitive nub from behind. Instead of answering, you can only moan for him while your core burns hotter with desire.

“Poor girl, so eager for cock she can’t even talk,”

With his hips pressed against your ass, he hastily yanks his pants down to free his member, it’s heat laying tantalizingly against your cheek. He grasps the base of his length and aligns it with your opening, forcing himself inside with one abrupt thrust.

You yelp unexpectedly at the fullness before biting your lip again, mumbling a few apologies as Tommy keeps his cock deep inside you before pulling out and slamming back into you.

With each thrust, the ability to stay quiet is growing more difficult. You continue to bite your lip so hard it may draw blood, but breathy whimpers still get punched out despite your best efforts.

“O-oh, fuck-“ you moan as you feel Tommy’s balls brush against your clit with every pump, taunting you with potential friction against your most intimate area.

Tommy changes his angle and slams into your spot head on with seasoned accuracy- clearly his various encounters with women have paid off.

“A-ah!” You sob loudly while your legs shake beneath you, nearly giving out if you weren’t currently white knuckling the countertop. Tommy groans against your neck, his hot breath sending chills down your spine.

“Quiet down, love,” Tommy growls into your ear as he clasps his hand over your mouth, his thrusts becoming deeper and more precise, “we wouldn’t want Ada hearing you.”

With a heavy hand silencing you, Tommy makes his thrusts harsher, almost painfully smashing into your cervix. He mumbles a few praises about how wet you are and how good you feel, your body buzzing from the approbation.

In the midst of ruining you, his hand slips away from your mouth and your needy whimpers can be heard along with Tommy’s heavy breaths. Not loud enough to disrupt Ada, but loud enough to be heard by anyone who could pass by the kitchen. The adrenaline and eroticism causes that intoxicating pressure to begin to build up inside you.

“What would she think, huh?” Tommy teases with a low groan, “seeing her astute friend become a filthy little dumb whore all for her big brother …”

“F-fuck-“ you cry out breathlessly as your sopping cunt flutters around his length, “‘s huge-“

Tommy laughs thinly while slamming into you, “too big for you, sweetheart? Can you feel it stretching out your cunt?”

“Y-yes, fuck-k!”

“(Y/N)?” Ada calls out tiredly from her room, “are you okay?”

Tommy halts his movements inside you, his tip pressing firmly against your spot. You let out a shaky pant before turning around slightly to peak at Tommy. He stares back at you with a cocked brow, silently commanding you to respond to her.

“I’m f-fine, sorry, just bumped my h-hip …” you stammer weakly, barely being able to think of an explanation let alone form a proper sentence while Tommy’s cock is still splitting you open.

Ada’s too tired to pry further, so she just takes you word for it. Once he knows the coast is clear, he slowly builds his thrusts up to that same deep, harsh pace.

“Only thing I told you to do was stay quiet, and you couldn’t even fuckin’ do that, have I fucked you stupid already?” Tommy scolds angrily as he locks a hand into your hair and yanks your head back towards him, the sting of the pull only pushing you closer to your orgasm.

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, the humiliation makes your cunt clench and weep around him greedily, your toes curling as your back arches against him.

“Maybe we should spend more time together, hm?” Tommy decides as he nips your earlobe from behind, licking the shell of your ear soon after, “you get to bitch and moan about how ambitious women are, and then I get to watch you go brainless on my cock. How’s that sound?”

You nod and whimper even though you’re ironically barely processing what he’s saying. Tommy can tell how wrecked you’ve become, and he doesn’t hesitate to relish in it.

“You were much too pretty for a career, anyway,” Tommy insisted as he felt his own orgasm begin to coil up inside him while his grasp on your scalp tightens, “the way your cunts gripping me right now … I think you were crafted for this, love …”

Your senses are overloaded with pleasure and you’re convinced you’ve never been fucked this good before. Sadly, just as Tommy expected.

“C-close,” you stutter as you feel yourself begin to tip over the edge while squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Tommy chuckles and continues the same pace, sneaking one of his hands to the front of your body and placing the pads of his fingers directly onto your clit. Not rubbing, just leaving his digits there with firm warm pressure.

“That’s it, don’t think. Just drench my cock, baby,” Tommy growls as he feels your channel flutter around him. And with a few more pumps, you’re coming around his length. You nearly shout out before Tommy covered your mouth again, not wanting to give Ada a reason to get up and check what was going on herself.

After seeing and feeling your orgasm take over you, Tommy feels the pressure within him begin to burst. And just at the last second, Tommy slides his length out and shoots ropes onto you ass, making sure to not get any on your dress. He can be a gentleman, sometimes.

Once you’ve both ridden out your highs, only then does Tommy release his grip on your hair, both of your bodies achy and sweaty with exertion. He backs himself up and tucks his softening cock back into his pants.

Shakily, you turn around to face him, earning a genuine smile from him as he sees your post-orgasm fucked out expression. Cheeks flushed and eyes still glossy, he could get used to seeing this.

“How about we have another talk in the morning?” Tommy asks in a tone that you can’t exactly read, but judging by his expression and body language- you believe he’s being authentic. And you couldn’t lie, the thought of another ‘talk’ with Tommy is dangerously tempting.

—

I hope I did this justice <\3 as much as I love dumbification I feel like I can’t write it properly :( I’m going to keep trying !! because if I’m anything it’s persistent lmao

[arminsumi]

we've had ex geto... but what about ex gojo?

YOUR FAVORITE EX

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Note : ooo... ex gojo 🤤 hope u likey

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : contains smut/explicit content, kinda toxic themes, some angst, baby trapping, pregnancy, dirty talk, unprotected sex + creampies, possessiveness

Playme : streets

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

Ex!Gojo makes the break up everyone's business. And of course it's you breaking up with his obnoxious, overdramatic ass. Multiple times, too. You two have broken up so many times in fact that your friends just don't take it seriously anymore when you announce "We're breaking up". That just means "We're getting back together in two weeks (lol)."

Ex!Gojo pulls the "I can't find anyone like you" and the "Aw, don't be like that, baby" cards on you.

Ex!Gojo claims to be your favorite ex. Yeah you hate him... buuut he's still your favorite... right? Right? He'll nag you to admit it. It makes his heart flutter and ego swell bigger than his head.

Ex!Gojo is a menace, always deterring your potential new lovers and declining dates on your behalf. He gives you a stupid excuse with that cheeky smirk, "What? It's not like they could love you better than me, anyways. I'm the best. Don't waste your time. Just come back to me, yeah? You know my arms are still open to you."

Ex!Gojo doesn't act like an ex at all. He still kisses you. Still hugs you. Invites you for every party. Visits your apartment at 2 AM when he's drunk and rambles to you about all the crazy things he always rambled about at 2 AM. And you don't treat him like an ex because... his kisses put you in a trance. Then you realize oh, we're broken up, what the hell.

Ex!Gojo clings to your body and holds it with the same possessiveness that he always used to. He places his big hand on your hip and grips it tight, especially at parties. "Stay close to me."

Ex!Gojo taunts you during those late-night hatefucks, "You missed this fat cock fucking up your guts, huh? I know you did. Don't you fucking lie to me." while he's balls deep in you, skin slapping loudly against yours in the backseat of his car. He just kindly offered you a drive home, and then one thing led to another and you ended up on his lap having his big hands moving your hips up and down. "That's it, admit how much you missed me 'n bounce on this cock, baby. Admit it."

Ex!Gojo fucks you harder when he's your ex, making sure you're super full and stuffed with his cock. He loves molding your tiny hole to accommodate his shape, hitting your sweet spots with mean pounding thrusts until you scream those three little words for him. "I miss you!" he smiles when he hears this, presses his forehead to yours and coos while cumming inside, "Missed you too, baby. Missed this pussy. You know it's m-mine forever, don't you? No one can fuck you better than I can..." and it's true, no one knows the map of your sweet spots and erogenous zones better than he does. He's masterful at pleasuring you.

Ex!Gojo cums inside you more than he did while you two were dating. Who knows why. Seems like his animalistic, primal brain kicked in and he thought well if I put a baby in you... you'll have a piece of me forever. You'll have to come back to me. And his seed is potent. You bet you're getting pregnant. He has the wolfiest smile when you bitterly show him the pregnancy test. "Ooh, baby I'm so proud of that little pussy for getting pregnant. Let's have a celebratory fuck."

Ex!Gojo knows that no matter where you go, he'll always find you. His high school sweetheart. His five year girlfriend. The mother of his child. The only woman that's ever had such a strong hold on him. The only one he's ever been weakened by.

Ex!Gojo cries sometimes after creaming up inside your pussy, "Please come back... I miss you so bad..." and starts sobbing like a puppy into the crook of your neck when you run your fingers through his snowy hair.

Ex!Gojo feels his broken heart get pieced back together when you finally return to him. And just like that, he slots half his soul into yours. "Baby... you're the best thing this world ever gave me. Just let me marry you, please..."

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Trust

main masterlist | the boys masterlist

summary: soldier boy doesn’t realize just how scared of him you truly are

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

rating: R for language, mature themes

word count: 5.2k

warnings: please read! language, mentions of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, violence, forced purging (to prevent possible death), briefly mentioned nudity (not in a smutty way), much darker than anything i’ve published before

author’s note: this started out as a small idea but i got really carried away lol.

another note: sorry for kinda ghosting after uploading the last fic, my brain hates me 🙃 i can’t promise i won’t “disappear” again like immediately after uploading this so thank you in advance for any/all feedback/comments 💞💞

It was late at night (more like early morning) when you were arguing with Butcher at the door. 

“Don’t you dare leave me here alone with him!” you seethed.

“C’mon, love, the old cunt’s gonna be asleep the whole time I’m gone.”

Your teeth clenched at the idea of being alone in the house with Soldier Boy, but if Billy didn’t go now to “run an errand” he’d probably have to go later that day anyway.

“Fine,” you sighed. “But if ‘the old cunt’ lays a fucking finger on me I swear to god Butcher!”

“I’ll be back by nine.”

**

A loud knock on your door woke you up.

“Hey! Sweetheart!” Soldier Boy’s voice shouted from the other side. “You up?”

“I am now,” you mumbled to yourself angrily. 7:26 your clock read.

“I heard that,” Soldier Boy said. 

Shit, you thought. “What do you want?” 

“The stupid TV isn’t fuckin’ working, I need you to come and work your magic for me.”

You sighed. You couldn’t ignore him at this point, that’d most likely just anger him further. If he wanted to he’d just break down the door and drag you out to the living room.

“C’mon toots, don’t be a bitch about it,” he exclaimed.

“Screw you,” you mumbled.

“Hey!” Soldier Boy exclaimed. “What’d I just fuckin’ say!” He tried opening the door but you’d obviously locked it. 

“I-I’ll be out in a second,” you told him. 

“That’s more like it,” he mumbled back.

You quickly got out of bed (whole outfit still on, just in case Soldier Boy had tried something in the night) and hurried to the door before you opened it. There he stood, the strongest man alive. You gulped nervously as he didn’t move and stayed blocking your way out. 

He eyed you up and down obnoxiously, smirking at the sight and making your heart beat faster.

“Same outfit as last night, I see,” he said. 

“S-So?” you asked, trying to mask the pure fear this man instilled in you. “I just like these clothes, is all.” He didn’t say anything, just kept smirking at you. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday, too, you know!”

“So you have been checking me out.” He nodded a little, the smirk still on his face.

“Did you want me to help you with the TV or did you just wake me up to be a dick?”

“TV,” he grumbled, “but would it kill you to be polite once in a while?”

“Would it kill you to move out of the way so I can head downstairs?”

He furrowed his brows before he rolled his eyes and stepped to the side; “After you, princess,” he mocked. You left your bedroom and he followed you downstairs to where the perfectly functioning TV hung on the wall.

You hated the way Soldier Boy eyed you as you took the remote out from the cabinet beside the TV and turned it on.

“It seems to be working fine?” you said, wanting to take his attention off of your ass. “What were you trying to watch?”

“Uh…how bout you pick something for us?” he offered.

“Excuse me?” you practically scoffed.

“C’mon, sit down and watch with me,” he said. You turned around, expecting to see him sitting on the couch, but he was now standing about a yard away from you. “Butcher seems to be gone…” He took a step towards you. “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves…” Another step. “Why don’t we have some fun?” He reached out and lightly touched your cheek, traced down the side of your face, and tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes.

“Soldier Boy—”

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me,” he interrupted you. “I know your heart starts racing when I walk into a room, I know it beats even faster when I get close. I know you want me, don’t even try to fuckin’ deny it.”

“P-Please—”

“Oh, I like a woman who knows when to beg,” he chuckled lowly as he bent down to kiss you.

“Please don’t hurt me, please,” you said quickly, tears stinging your eyes as they threatened to fall. “I-I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you, I-I didn’t mean it! Please don’t kill me!”

“Kill you?” He stood up straight, pulling his hand up off your face and putting it up in defense. “Kill you?” There was a moment of silence as he intensely looked at your reaction to him getting so close. “You…You’re scared of me, aren’t you?”

You nodded slightly, worried you might upset him as his face fell. He seemed almost saddened by the fact you didn’t want him near you.

“But…I’m a hero,” he scoffed slightly. “Why would you be scared of me?”

“Please don’t take it personally,” you said. “Just let me set up the TV for you and go back to my room…please?”

“You’re fuckin’ terrified right now, aren’t you?” he asked and again you nodded, again he scoffed.

“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I-If I rub you the wrong way you could snap my neck like a chicken bone without breaking a sweat.”

“But I…” He continued looking at you with confusion that seemed to be laced with curiosity. “I wouldn’t. I mean, I know I get angry sometimes but I’d never hurt you?”

“You wouldn’t be the first hero to turn on me,” you told him quietly. Soldier Boy paused and thought about what to do next. He’d never been in a situation like this before; standing alone with someone who was genuinely scared of him, someone that didn’t trust a hero like himself.

“Just uh… Just turn on a movie and you can go,” he said before he took a seat on the couch. “Another one from my time, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” you said; a small, forced smile on your lips. You found a movie you thought he’d like and pressed play for him before tossing the remote on the couch and leaving.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he called out, making you stop in your tracks. “I’m sorry you don’t trust me, but I need you to know that I’d never hurt you.”

“O-Okay, Soldier Boy,” you said before you hurried out of the room, up the stairs, and back into your room. “Billy Butcher I am going to fucking strangle you,” you mumbled to yourself.

**

“You’re up before noon,” Butcher remarked, seeing Soldier Boy in the living room. “And you got the TV workin’ on your own! Atta boy, gov’.”

“Actually, Y/n set it up for me,” Soldier Boy said.

Butcher sighed at that, “So, you’ve talked to her today then, huh?”

“Yeah, why?” the Supe asked before Butcher left to see you. 

He knocked lightly on your door before you opened it. 

“Hello—” Butcher started but a swift slap to the face shut him up pretty quickly.

“Fuck you, Butcher!”

“Did he hurt you?” Butcher asked, holding his cheek.

“No, but he almost fucking did, asshole! How dare you leave me alone with him like that!”

“Oh come off it! If you’re still in one piece then all’s well that ends well, am I right?” he said with a smirk and a shrug. 

“You ever do something like that again and I swear to god William!” You stared daggers at him.

“My ‘errand’ didn’t go as planned anyways, love,” he told you. “I’ve gotta figure out another way to find where they’re hiding Homelander.”

“Or whatever’s left of him,” you mumbled.

**

“Alright, I’m off,” Butcher announced, a full duffle bag in his hand as he headed to the door.

“What?” you exclaimed from the kitchen as you hurried to get between him and his destination. “What’re you talking about?”

“Everything okay?” Soldier Boy asked from the couch near the TV.

“Everything’s fine, gov’, you keep watching your movie,” Butcher said.

“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” you asked Butcher, you didn’t want Soldier Boy to hear what you were about to say. 

“After you then, love,” Butcher obliged.

The second the door closed behind the two of you, you let him have it.

“Don’t you fucking dare leave me here alone with him again, I cannot fucking take it!”

“It’ll only be for a little while, you’ll be fine!” Butcher said.

“Then let me come with you!”

“What, and leave the cunt here alone? He’ll burn the house down trying to make himself a fuckin’ sandwich,” Butcher exclaimed. “He needs a fuckin’ babysitter and that’s you.”

“Why me? Why can’t you call Hughie? Or Frenchie? Or, better than all of us combined, Kimiko?” you asked.

“Hughie’s outta state, Frenchie and Kimiko are both knee-deep in shit sussing out another lead on Homelander’s whereabouts.”

You sighed heavily, you saw his point but the thought of being trapped again made your stomach hurt; “Please don’t leave me alone with him, Butcher. You know how much he fucking terrifies me, and you know exactly why.”

“I’m sorry I gotta do this to you, love, but you know he’s our only shot at killin’ Homelander once and fucking for all.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Only a day or two.”

You again conceded, against your better judgment, and let Butcher leave you with Soldier Boy.

“What was that all about?” the Supe asked when you walked back into the house and locked the door. 

You forced a smile; “Nothing, Soldier Boy,” you said, “dinner will be ready soon.”

You didn’t know Soldier Boy heard everything you and Butcher had said.

**

“Looks great, toots.” Soldier Boy walked up behind you in the kitchen, not missing the flinch you threw when he got a little too close. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. 

“You still that scared of me?” he asked, leaning on the counter and trying to get you to look up at him.

“If you can hear my heart, I’m sure you’ve got something that can smell my fear too.”

“I know I make your heart race, your breathing becomes slightly quicker when I get close, and I’ve noticed your pupils tend to change when you notice I’m next to you.”

“So why is my fear such a fuckin’ surprise, then?” you scoffed.

“I guess I didn’t realize it was fear making your heart race and your pupils dilate slightly.”

“What, you thought I was into you or something?” you asked half-heartedly before you looked over at him and realized that was exactly what he had thought. “Oh.”

“So, yeah, I was surprised when I realized you didn’t like havin’ me around,” he admitted. You almost felt guilty for a moment but it quickly disappeared as you remembered why you were scared of him in the first place. “Can you at least tell me why, though?” he asked as you shoveled his food onto a plate. “Why are you so scared of me? I get that I’m stronger than you but, no offense, isn’t Butcher too? Isn’t like… almost every man out there?”

“One, I trust Butcher. I’ve known him for years and he’s been nothing but good; he’s an asshole, sure, but he’s good when it counts. And two, I don’t spend time alone with ‘almost every man out there’ so that does not help your case at all.” You handed him the plate. “Here’s your food.”

“Thanks, dollface.” He took it from you and you started getting your own plate ready. He watched your every move and his brows knitted with confusion as he did so. 

“You can go sit down,” you told him. “You don’t need to watch me like a hawk.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just still tryin’ to figure you out I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.

“You know I’m a hero, right? I’m a superhero, and I would never hurt you?”

“Look, no offense, but the last time I trusted a Supe it really didn’t turn out well and I’m not gonna let myself give you even an inch of trust because you are even stronger than the last guy.”

“What happened? What’d he do?” Soldier Boy asked and you didn’t respond. “C’mon, you owe me that much! I’ve been nothing but good to you, yet you’re treating me like I did whatever this other Supe did to you!”

“I don’t owe you shit, Soldier Boy,” you snapped and you could’ve sworn you saw genuine hurt flash over his features. “If you must know, it was The Deep. I trusted him, let him be good to me, and it all blew up in my face in the most awful way I could’ve imagined.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” He reached out to touch your shoulder but you flinched away from him.

“Please, don’t touch me. I get that you’re trying to be sweet or whatever but please don’t. It’s not doing what you think it’s doing, Soldier Boy.”

He nodded and backed away slightly.

“My name’s Ben,” he told you. You looked at him with a sense of shock. “My real name’s Ben, you don’t have to say ‘Soldier Boy’ all the time, you can just say ‘Ben’.”

“Okay, Ben, while we’re on the topic of names, you could ease up on the ‘toot’s and ‘doll’s and ‘dollface’s and ‘honey’s and ‘sweetheart’s you know. Or at the very least stick to one pet name.”

He smiled at your honesty, hoping it was a sign you might be scared of him just a tad less.

“Think I’ll just stick to callin’ you sweetheart, then,” he replied.

“Thank god, I was really starting to hate dolls.”

That made him laugh deeply before he walked to the table and took his seat.

Don’t you fucking dare, you thought to yourself when you felt a feeling of almost-not-absolute-fear-and-disgust wash over you for a split second. 

**

“Look, I’m sorry, but—”

“You’re sorry?” you scoffed into the phone. “Butcher get the fucking hell back here!”

“I can’t, I’ve gotta spend another night over here. Apparently—”

“I don’t give a rat's ass why you have to stay, I am begging you to please get back here now!” Tears were stinging your eyes as your voice cracked.

“I’m sorry—”

“If he does anything to me, anything at all, I’ll never fucking forgive you for leaving me alone with him, Butcher. You understand me, William? Never!”

“He’s not gonna hurt you,” Butcher sighed. “Just keep your distance and be nice to him. He does have a bit of a temper, maybe he just needs to relieve some tension…”

“That’s not funny!” You gritted your teeth as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “When are you getting back here?”

“A few more days,” he replied. 

Before he said another word you hung up on him, furious that he thought it was okay to leave you alone with Soldier Boy.

Though the Supe was in his own room upstairs, he still heard every word you said. He’d never admit it, but his heart clenched at the thought of how scared you were right now. 

**

It had been over a week since you’d seen him when Butcher finally got back with some new information on Homelander’s location. He had a plan to find the exact coordinates and he wasn’t going to let his morals get in the way.

“Well, well, you clean up nice,” Butcher commented when you stepped out of the bathroom.

“Shut up,” you grumbled. You were wearing a short royal blue dress with a deep v-neckline and almost no back, the silver heels and necklace tied the otherwise seemingly plain outfit together nicely. “If this stupid plan of yours gets me killed I’m gonna come back and haunt you for the rest of your fuckin’ life.”

“Wow,” Ben beamed when he walked out of his room and saw you standing in the hall with Butcher. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”

“I look like a damn hooker,” you said. 

“That’s the idea, love.” Butcher smirked.

**

A high-ranking Vought employee had been seen at a certain bar almost every night for the last two months and it was now your job to get him to trust you. If he trusted you enough, he would take you back to his place and you could find out any and all information he had on Homelander. 

The plan seemed simple enough, yet Ben seemed more anxious about the situation than you were. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” Soldier Boy asked when you were all seated in the van outside the bar.

“No, but if this helps us get Homelander then it’s safe enough,” you told him. 

“Besides, you’ll be in there with her,” Butcher reminded him. “And if you stay focused on keeping her safe, then I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“How ‘bout we come up with a code word or something?” Ben suggested as he put in the earpiece Butcher handed him. 

“How about ‘Soldier Boy’?” you said, Ben shook his head.

“And what happens if you need to say ‘Soldier Boy’ but you don’t need help?” he countered.

“How about…Ben?” You smiled a little when he nodded.

“I’ll be listening closely to the whole conversation, if you say ‘Ben’ I’ll come and get you outta there.”

“Sounds good.” 

“Alright,” Butcher interrupted, “Soldier Boy keep me updated and if all goes well, Y/n, we won’t be seeing you again til later tonight.” He winked obnoxiously.

“If this guy genuinely tries to sleep with me I’ll break his fuckin’ nose,” you said flatly. “Info or no info, I ain’t letting him see me naked.”

**

Ben had gone in about a minute before you did and found a nice spot near where he knew you’d be sitting with the target. The second you walked in his eyes were glued. He stayed true to his word and listened to every word you and the target said.

“This seat taken, handsome?” you asked the man who then smirked at you. 

“It is now,” he said. “And what’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Goldie,” you lied as you took your seat. “What’s yours?”

“Steven. Let me buy you a drink?” he offered and called the bartender over when you nodded. 

“Vodka martini,” you ordered. “So Steven, what do you do for work?”

“I work for Vought,” he said and you faked an impressed look. 

“No way!” you gasped. “Oh my god, do you know The Seven?”

“I do,” he said with a nod, clearly full of himself. 

“That is so cool,” you continued stroking his ego. You nodded in thanks when the bartender handed you your drink and you took a sip. “I’ve never met someone so important!”

“You wanna know a secret?” he asked, you nodded enthusiastically. He leaned over so he could whisper into your ear; “I’m actually in The Deep’s close, personal circle.”

Your eyes went wide for a split second before you got a hold of yourself and whispered back; “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “I could introduce you if you’d like.” You pulled away from him slightly but still tried your best to keep yourself calm.

“Oh, that’s alright,” you shook your head, “I’m sure he’s too busy for little old me.”

“I’m never too busy.” The voice behind you made your whole body tense up and Ben could tell you were in trouble. You hadn’t said the code word though and he knew both you and Butcher would be mad if he screwed up the mission.

“Butcher,” Ben said into the intercom attached to his jacket, “Deep’s here.”

Butcher paused for a moment before he answered; “Don’t freak out. Y/n can handle herself and unless she says ‘Ben’ you don’t make a move, you understand Soldier Boy?”

“Understood,” he replied.

“You know,” The Deep said, still standing behind you, “I’ve had my eye on you since you walked in here, gorgeous.”

“Y-You have?” you asked, wondering if he recognized you or if your face just blurred together with all the other women he had assaulted. You took another sip of the drink in your hand and continued to keep a close eye on it to make sure it didn’t get spiked.

“I have,” he replied. “Now, why don’t you let my friend Steven here show you a nice time, then take you back to my place at Vought Tower?”

“S-Sounds good,” you trembled. “I-I’ll see you later tonight then, Deep.” You took another, smaller sip.

“Wonderful,” he said before he bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Can’t wait to see this dress on my floor.” With that, he walked away and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Fish fucker’s left the building,” Ben told Butcher. “You gonna tail him or are we still focusing on Steven?”

“Stay focused on Steven, we can kill fish fucker another day,” Butcher said.

“So, you want another drink?” Steven asked you. “Or would you rather head over to the tower?”

“You know, I’d rather spend the night at your place, Steven.” You faked a sweet smile. 

“Really?” He raised a brow as a smirk returned to his face. “So, another drink, then?”

“How about I just let you take me home?” The moment you stood up you knew something was wrong. You instantly felt dizzy and sat back down. “Ben, help,” you whispered when you realized exactly what was happening. 

“Looks like we’re heading to the tower, Goldie,” Steven said. “Thanks as always, Pat.” He handed a couple hundreds to the bartender.

Ben came up behind Steven and pinned him against the bar with one hand, his other hand resting on the bar itself a few inches from where you were now slouched over.

“What the hell did you do to her, fuckface?” Ben seethed.

“I didn’t do anything! What’s your problem?” Steven yelled, drawing attention to the scene unfolding.

Ben took the back of the man’s head and brought it up half a foot before he slammed it back down onto the wood. 

“Tell me what you fuckin’ did or I’ll squish you like a bug,” Ben yelled as he applied more and more pressure to Steven’s head.

“Roofie!” Steven yelled. “Ask the bartender!”

“Ben don’t kill him,” Butcher told him through the earpiece. 

“He deserves to fuckin’ die, Butcher,” Ben replied.

“Yes he does but he still has information that we need. If you’ve gotta kill someone, kill the bartender who spiked the fuckin’ drink!”

Ben looked up from gravely injured Steven and saw the bartender cowering in the corner.

“Ben,” you whispered and reached out to touch the hand he still had on the counter. “Ben get me outta here.” His angered expression slowly faded as he looked down into your hooded eyes. “Please?”

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Soldier Boy said before he quickly scooped you up in his arms and carefully kept your head resting on his shoulder. “Hey, barkeep,” he shouted and the man looked over at him. “Mark my words; no matter where you go or what you do I will find you and tear you limb from fucking limb for hurting her. Your days are fucking numbered.”

Ben hurried you out to the truck and sat you down on the seat next to his so you could lean on him if you wanted, or alternatively, you could lean against the window if you still didn’t want him touching you.

“Stay with her, I’m gonna go figure out how much they gave her and if we need to take her to the hospital,” Butcher told Soldier Boy before leaving.

“Ben,” you slurred, still barely able to open your eyes, “Ben what—what’d you do to me?”

“God fuckin’ damn it, Butcher,” he mumbled under his breath. He blamed Billy entirely for the operation going sideways and for you ending up in danger. “Fuck, you need to purge, sweetheart.” He positioned you so your head was hanging out the side door and stuck his fingers down your throat, ignoring your angered hits to his arms. “This is for your own good, stop fighting me.”

You hurled out the side door, Ben held onto you tightly and made sure you didn’t fall out or get hurt. 

“Please just let me go,” you whispered when he took his fingers out, satisfied with the amount of possibly deadly alcohol you were able to get out of your system.

“I know you’re scared right now, but I can’t let you go,” he told you. “I’m sorry.”

Butcher got back to the car pretty quickly, a worried expression on his face.

“How much did they give her?” Ben asked.

“Too fuckin’ much,” Butcher replied. “We’ve gotta make her puke it all up or she might not make it.”

**

You woke up on the couch to the sound of Butcher and Ben arguing in the kitchen, a splitting headache quickly made itself known when you opened your eyes fully.

“This is your fault, Butcher,” Soldier Boy yelled, “you and your stupid obsession to find Homelander. How dare you put her life at risk like that!”

“Hey I had the strongest man alive in there backing her up, so how the hell did you screw up so badly?”

There was a pause as you kept listing, a part of you was scared you’d start to hear punches being thrown.

Ben shook his head as he looked at his ‘boss’; “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that? She’s been scared outta her fuckin’ mind and yet you just keep on pushin’ her and pushin’ her. And for what? To kill a Supe that’s probably dead already? You know Homelander ain’t a threat since I fuckin’ burned him, yet you still put someone you say you care about in danger.”

“‘Scared outta her fuckin’ mind’?” Butcher scoffed. “What’re you on about?”

“I know she’s terrified of me,” Ben admitted. “I know that you know she is, too. And yet you keep leaving her alone with me, why? Just to make her life worse? To make her feel less safe than she already does?”

“You sayin’ she’s got a reason to be scared of you, then?” Butcher asked. “Thought you were supposed to be some kinda hero?”

“Of course I’d never hurt her! But I’m still a Supe and I know you hate Supe’s. There’s no way in hell you trust me at all or you wouldn’t have her babysitting me every time you leave the fuckin’ house. What I don’t get is why you’re so comfortable leaving her here with the strongest man in the world when you think I’m a fucking monster.” Ben walked over to the fridge and took a bottled water out before he grabbed a cup and left the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly as he entered the living room. “I know you’re up, do you want some water?”

“What happened?” you asked as he squatted on the floor in front of the couch and made eye contact with you.  

“We can fill you in later, you should probably drink,” he said and held out the two items in his hands. “Would you rather the bottle or a cup?”

“Bottle’s fine,” you replied and you slowly sat up, putting a hand to your head before you took the water from him.

“You need some Aspirin or something?” he asked. 

“I’m sure Butcher ‘ll bring me some,” you said, making Ben’s brows furrow a little before he nodded with realization.

“You still don’t trust me much, do you?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled before beginning to drink the water. “What am I wearing, by the way?” you asked and gestured to the dirty, large black tee you had on over the blue dress.

“Oh, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “it was on the car floor, I think it’s Butcher’s. I put it on you when uh, when you were kinda out of it and… your boob might’ve kinda… popped outta your dress.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I didn't… like I didn’t look or anything, I just saw the shirt and immediately put it over you.”

“Sure.” You nodded before you continued downing the bottled water.

“I’ll go get Butcher to bring you some painkillers,” Ben said before leaving the room.

**

You’d just gotten out of the shower and put on a new set of clean clothes when Butcher stopped you in the hall.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“Better,” you replied flatly, still pretty frustrated with him.

“I’m sorry I was such an idiot,” he sighed, “I shoulda told Soldier Boy to get you hell outta there the second the fish fucker showed his ugly mug.”

“We needed intel on Homelander,” you reminded him. “My safety was just the price we had to pay.”

“And that was a fucked up currency for me to gamble with,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so obsessed and I’m sorry for leaving you alone with Soldier Boy so much the past couple of weeks.”

You shrugged a little; “It’s no big deal.”

“I want you to know I’m done tryin’ to find Homelander.”

“Seriously?” Your eyes went wide and you furrowed your brows. 

“The cunt’s most likely down for the count anyway thanks to granny fucker downstairs and there are other Supes that are much bigger threats right now anyway. Like The Deep, for example, and the number of people he’s paying to help him get away with assaults like last night. I’ve been talking with Hughie and as it turns out, he’s already had his eye on a handful of other bartenders workin’ for fish dick.”

“So…what? You’re saying you’re gonna go back to your old job at Supe affairs and start hunting down these assholes in a more mentally-healthy way?” you asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

**

When you entered the living room you noticed Ben readjusting his position on the couch, as if to try and make himself appear less threatening.

“Hey,” you said quietly, a small smile on your lips as you sat down about two feet from him on the same couch.

“Hey,” he replied. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better.” You nodded. “You need help with the TV?” you asked, picking up the remote from where it sat on the coffee table in front of you.

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. He watched you intently as you ‘worked your magic’ on the electronic contraption.

“I know I was completely at your mercy last night, Ben,” you said, focused on the TV and not looking over at him. “And I know you could’ve easily taken advantage of the fact I was out of it.”

“But I didn’t.”

“I know that, too.”

“But you still don’t trust me?”

“I want to,” you said. You reached out your left hand and gently placed it on his right one. He looked down at where your hands were touching and smiled softly. “I want to trust you, I just need time to get to know you.”

“You sayin’ you wanna get to know me?” he asked with a bit of a smirk before you nodded. The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Soldier Boy broke the silence; “So, where do we go from here?”

“How about we watch something together?” you suggested. 

“That sounds great, sweetheart.”

[underskz]

➪ mark lee x reader ✩ w.c ~500 — 18+ minors dni —

✰ NON-IDOL AU

pov: spilled beer + hot asshole = bad decisions

note: yeah again idk i saw these pics of mark and that stupid red solo cup and was like sure ok write a blurb or whatever of him at a party :') i hate my brain it's getting critical...idk think nct 127 party and specifically that vid where they're playing pong bc thats forever in my brain and will forever serve as inspo for any and all party fics with them..... this is a cry for help

warnings: alcohol, bad language, mark (tbh all of the members in this) is not so secretly a dick and a player lol, a weak semblance of plot i put together with spit and duct tape (don't read too much into it)

"Oh shit! Aw man, my bad."

The cold splash of beer soaking through the front of your shirt is more than enough to have your head snapping up to shoot the nastiest glare you can possibly conjure at the offender.

Mark fucking Lee.

Standing before you with that stupid wide eyed look on his face and hands clasped together apologetically. You're eyebrow twitches when you can hear a few snickers coming from the general vicinity of where you last saw Johnny and Jaehyun, slightly tightening your grip on your own cup and biting down the temptation of chucking it in their direction.

And any other clueless twit would've been putty the moment they realized just who exactly doused them with at least half a cup of shitty beer, accepting his sorry excuse for an apology in a heartbeat.

"Don't you mean, sorry?" You hiss, jaw aching from how tightly your teeth press together. Again you swallow down every venomous word crawling up your throat, all too appealing when he cocks his head.

"Oh yeah sure, sorry." And he smirks, one of his dimples fully on display and he's truly the epitome of the most unapologetic fuckboy you've ever been cursed to lay eyes upon.

"Fuck off, I'm outta here." Slamming down your cup on a nearby surface before turning to shoot one last glare at Mark.

You only agreed to coming here because your friend had begged you to damn near on their hands and knees and some pitiful story about needing to get into Yuta's pants.

But just as you take a step back his hand shoots out, fingers tightly wrapping around your wrist and now you're wondering if punching him right in that stupid dimple is an overkill.

"Aw, don't be like that, you can borrow one of mine!"

"I'd rather chew pavement." There's a twinge in your chest when he pouts, looking a little wounded at the harshness of your tone.

And maybe you didn't have a real reason for hating him, other than the fact he's led on two of your friends—just to leave them in tears and you to pick up the pieces—and obnoxiously dated that one stereotypical mean girl you had the displeasure of attending the same university with.

"Okay okay, here, I'll give you this one." Releasing your wrist and starting to take off the loose black tee hanging off of him.

"Fuckin'- stop, stop, fine!" Your hands coming to catch his this time around, irritation throbbing in your temples as you let him lead you towards his room. You well enough know the second you step foot into it your fate is sealed, the stories and rumors infamous in the social circle the two of you share.

He opens the door and grins at you, hand extended as if he's some sort of gentleman. You take it.

[createdbytragedy]

WANNA BE YOURS

‧₊˚🖇️✩Pairing: Yandere! beomgyu x reader ‧₊˚🖇️✩Genre: Yandere, smut ‧₊˚🖇️✩word count: 5.3k ‧₊˚🖇️✩Inspo from: 1- how beomgyu looks at you, 2, 3, 4, and 5 ‧₊˚🖇️✩: Warning(s): sub! Gyu, mention of gaslighting, manipulation, murder, threatening, a few description of blood, smut in the end, hickeys, marking, praise kink, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, obsessive thoughts, mommy kink, mild choking, riding, slight degradation, name calling (slut, whore), pet names(baby, baby boy, honey, darling), dry humping, dacryphilia etc

‧₊˚🖇️✩ The world seemed to be against you and your lover for some reason but how could you ever suspect him when he claims all he ever wants to be....is yours.

‧₊˚🖇️✩A/N: This is probably the longest I've ever written. istg i'll never write again if this don't reach the succcess i expect cuz i kinda lost the plot at the end, lol.

"Beomgyu, I think you should leave (y/n)," The simple words fell on Beomgyu's ears loud and clear but he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Soobin, you didn't have to be so direct!," scolded the other girl on his side.

"Pardon me?,"

Ari shivered at the sudden change of the boy's tone. It has always been like this. She knew. They knew. There was just something off about your boyfriend of 8 months.

"Look, as her friends, we just don't think you both are compatible," Ari explained, hands fidgeting as she kept glancing at the door of the restaurant the four of you just exited. You went back, claiming that you needed to use the restroom urgently.

It was a friendly hang out dinner you have planned with two of your bestfriends and your boyfriend whom you dragged along. The night went by with no hitch and everyone had a good time. Or so it seems.

"What." Beomgyu's voice came out raw and low, the tone they were both familiar with when you weren't around.

His real voice.

Beomgyu's demeanor changed drastically, his friendly gaze turning as dark as the night with no moonlight, dark clouds hovering over his pupils. The smile he displayed just before you left was no where to be seen instead etched in a menacing scowl, like he couldn't even stand them.

That was, of course, not a question nor an appeal to repeat the said statement.

"Look, man, I don't know how else to put it but you're toxic. For her. You're not good for (y/n)," Soobin filled in, trying his best to be careful with his words so as to not hurt his feelings.

"Huh?,"

To someone else, the constant questioning of Beomgyu may seem obnoxious, like he was mocking them but the pair knew better. It was a typical true beomgyu that you never see.

Nor will you ever. He was fucking capricious, switching back to his perfect-sweet-boyfriend facade like he wasn't just glaring daggers into your friend's eyes just moment before you arrived. And you fell for his act every single time.

"don't try to act dumb, Beomgyu, I really, really think you need help. I mean, you're always clinging to her 24/7, you don't even let her do the things she likes anymore without making her feel guilty about it. You're so selfish, do you even realize that?! you are not a good boyfriend to her in any means, beomgyu. She doesn't realize this because she's too fucking naive but I do! and--," Ari's voice has raised higher by the time she finished what she had to say.

Soobin placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly as if to calm her down.

"You should stay away from her," Soobin added, his tone light and controlled. He didn't mean it in hatred, it was just pure platonic care for his friend that was being manipulated unknowingly.

Beomgyu almost cringed at the words spilling out of the people's mouth. It was so outright ridiculous. He can't help but let a chuckle leave his lips.

The pair looked at Beomgyu as if he'd lost a braincell, confused and horrified.

"God, you both are so annoying," Beomgyu said in a snide remark, standing in front of them, "the answer to that is no. "

Ari and Soobin looked at each other, utterly confused. They don't remember asking him a question that he had a choice on. It was more like an order. A direct threat, to be honest.

You would never believe them anyway. Beomgyu had you fooled so good. He pretended to be that sweet boy in front of you, clinging to your side and looking at you with those innocent eyes like you were the answer to each of his prayer. He greeted your friends with a smile that turned to grimace and loathe as soon as you turned away.

He bought you coffee, 'accidentally' forgetting to bring some for your friend too. He would call you continuously, bombing your phone with message after message, asking you to come home soon when you were trying to just have some fun with friends. Eventually, you would have to cut the meet up short, getting worried about your partner as his text messages would get more restless with each passing moment.

You would never suspect he was the reason your friend circle was becoming smaller and smaller. Now the only close friends you could call were Soobin and Ari.

"I know what you did to Haru, Beomgyu," Ari gulped, feeling like the night air was getting too hot for an october. She inched closer to Soobin, seeking his comfort until their body was gently brushing against each other.

That statement was the only thing that bought a somewhat surprised look to Beomgyu's face until it vanished as quickly, shifting onto his firm scowl, eyes glistening with pure hatred for them. It wasn't hard to miss that Beomgyu didn't expect his horrible act to be caught.

"you did? good for you," he smirked, bangs falling over his eyes. If not, they could've seen the glint of mischief that flashed across it, holding something sinister and unimaginable.

Where were you? What was taking you so long?

Ari and Soobin both knew as soon as you return, Beomgyu was going to change his facade faster than speed of light. They have tried, of course they have. They tried to warn you about him, explaining his lowkey manipulative techniques and how he was isolating you from the rest of the world, of course you didn't believe them. You just thought your friends were worried about you since Beomgyu had had a reputation even before you started dating.

They called him ominious, strange and almost malevolent. You never saw any of that in him. He was anything but those horrendous things they assume about him.

"How could you do that to him?! You are insane! you're-- you're a psychopath which is why you should leave (y/n) alone!," Ari cried, her voice laced with emotion.

She remembered that day clearly. A friday night. She was going to get her car the the office basement after finishing work, jiggling her keys around her finger as she hummed a happy tune to herself. The basement was quiet, as always, which made her steps echo loudly, her heels clicking in a rhythm against the cold concrete floor to match her tune. She halt to a stop when a grunting sound erupt from somewhere in the place.

Ari stopped, looking around cautiously to figure out the source of sound, she held her breath, trying to listen more closely.

"I'm--i'm sorry-- i don't--i won't ever go near her--again, please," the voice begged, sounding scared.

A chill ran down her spine, heart thumping loud as beads of sweat collected on her back. The sound seemed to be coming from behind the black BMW parked not far away from her own car. She was paralyzed in fear, standing there trying not to make a noise.

Was it a serial killer? Is she witnessing a murder? Does the man need help? Should she call the police?

Horrified, Ari took out her phone, with trembling fingers, she tried to dial 911.

"You better keep your fucking words. If I see you near her again, I will kill you, chop you into tiny pieces and feed you to your beloved cats. You wouldn't want them to starve now, do you? I'm sure they won't even remember you when they taste your flesh. " Said another voice that sounded a bit familiar.

She was blocked by a another car, so the person didn't spot her when he stood up and fixed his hair on the car's mirror like nothing happened, adjusting his clothes before walking away from the scene.

Ari watched with mouth hanging open as her eyes followed the figure of none other than Choi Beomgyu. Walking towards the building elevator, probably to pick you up. She was even more horrified when the other man stood up, grunting and groaning in pain. She noticed that he was in a terrible state, clothes completely torn off, blood oozed from his nose. He had a black eye around his right eyes and his lips were torn, blood already dried up. He held his stomach, groaning in pain as he limped toward, Ari assumed would be his car.

"oh, come on, I was being generous. Didn't even kill him," his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips as he continued, " Though I'm not against killing if it means keeping (y/n) with me. You both are no exception. I find it quite amusing that you think you can take her away from me. She's mine. And nothing can change that. She loves me. I will kill anyone that tries to come between us, that includes you. "

"Oh, for god's sake, she doesn't love you!," Ari growled in frustration, throwing her hands up, " You just made her believe that. You leave her no space to even think about what she truly feels for you. You and your insecure ass forbids her from seeing other people. why, you afraid she's gonna realize you're just a psychopathic loser who goes around beating up people in the name of love?! (y/n) wouldn't like that now, would she? She'd dump your ass faster than you could say write her name!"

Goosbumps rise in her skin and she didn't know whether it was from the cold that her little black dress was doing no job warming her or Beomgyu himself. She knew him like you didn't. and she knew she was making a big mistake with what she was doing. But maybe, if this small action could save you, then she was willing to take the risk.

Soobin raised his head, walking forward so he was right in front of Beomgyu, forming a somewhat protective wall between Ari and Beomgyu,"Do you have any idea what you've done is wrong?! it's sick! you almost killed someone because they talk to your girlfriend?! what the actual fuck is up with that???! There's definitely something wrong with you. Seriously wrong. And we don't trust you. You are going to hurt our friend, in fact, you already have. Which is why we're here to save her. From you "

"In simple words, break up with her and fuck off of her life, Beomgyu. You don't deserve her. You're too sick and creepy," Ari added.

When she shifted her gaze to Beomgyu, she expected to see that menacing blank expression and piercing gaze but what she saw was beyond what she was imagining.

Beomgyu's head hung low, lips puckered out and trembling like he was holding back tears as he stared at his shoes, fidgeting his fingers like a little boy getting scolded by his teacher.

She was utterly confused and relieved, thinking their words got through him until--," how could you say that to him?!" Your voice was loud, quickly approaching the scene where two of your best friends were threatening your poor boyfriend.

"(y/n)!," Ari called, " this is not what it looks like, Beomgyu tried to ki--"

"Oh, shut up, Ari, I heard you both loud and clear," you were fuming with anger, glaring at your best friend's panic covered eyes as you stood in front of Beomgyu, protecting him from Soobin if he were to do anything.

"(y/n), you got it wrong! Your boyfriend just confessed to killing people in your name!!" soobin tried, desperate to make you understand the situation.

You were so not having it. They've always been critical about Beomgyu since you started dating him, always coming up with weird conspiracy theories about him. Saying things like; something's off about him, he changes personality whenever you're not around, he has this evil look in his eyes, he was isolating you from others and so on. The most ridiculous however, would be the one Ari was telling you tonight on the phone.

Something about seeing beomgyu almost beat a guy to death. You find that funny. Really. But she sounded so serious you asked her to meet up. Unfortunately, Beomgyu insisted on coming, clinging to your arm till you said yes. And now, here you were.

"Enough is enough, guys! leave him alone. I know you don't like him but this was too much, he must be so hurt!" you said, turning to look at your boyfriend.

Your eyes immediately softened seeing his glossy eyes, illuminated by the streetlight. Oh, he looked so sad. How could they say such awful things to him?

"I'm so sorry, Beomi, are you okay?," you asked, giving him a hug that he melts into, resting his head on your shoulder and lifting his head just enough to give Soobin and Ari a shit eating smirk.

Serves you right, fuckers.

"Listen, (y/n), Beomgyu is a fucking psychopath but you can't seem to see it because you're too fucking dumb!!," Ari screamed in utter frustration.

Your eyes burned at that, turning bitterly to your once best friend, " shut it, Ari. You don't get to say that anymore. I trusted you. I never thought you, of all people, would do this to my boyfriend. That's enough, we're leaving," you said, taking Beomgyu's hand and dramatically going in between them to march to your car.

"No, wait--" too late, you were already marching towards your car, dragging Beomgyu along with you.

Soobin And Ari looked at each other in defeat when Beomgyu turned his head, smirking in a victorious way before getting into the car.

‧₊˚🖇️✩

"Beomi, love, look at me," you pleaded, cupping his face between your palms, " tell me what happened while I was gone"

You made him sit on the bed as soon as you reached home, sitting beside him to comfort him from the events of tonight.

"They--they told me to break up with you," his breathe hitched and you rubbed circles on his cheek with your thumb, nodding for him to go ahead, " and--and when I said no, I didn't want to break up with you they started to--to accuse me of gaslighting you, and that you don't really love me-- and--and"

The crack of his voice made your heart crack too, cursing who you thought were the best people on earth as you pulled beomgyu to your embrace, stroking his back up and down," Shhh..baby, its okay, i'm here. They were lying. You know I love you very much, right?"

"but- they said you find me annoying and that I'm too clingy," he looked like he was on the verge of tears and you feel yourself falling apart.

"Beomi, c'mon, i'd never say that. I love you. You're the best boyfriend I ever had. I like it when you're clingy. Forget what they said, okay? I love you and nothing that someone else says can change my mind, you hear me?" he nodded.

You smiled, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, seeing as he's calmed down. Your action made him smile, leaning into your hand that was still on his left cheek.

"Really? you love me and only me, right?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Of course, only you."

Beomgyu smiled. He never get tired of hearing that coming from your mouth. It sounded so sweet in his ears, sweeter than any melody he's ever heard. So much so that he didn't really care if you mean it or not, as long as he gets to hear it, he's perfectly content.

"I just….love you so much, you don't understand," he whispered, pulling you to his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. The familiar aroma filling his senses and taking over like it were a drug, sending him into an unexplainable bliss, " Just wanna be yours. I don't care about anything else"

It was true. As long as you held him like this, he didn't care if the world was ending, he was happy. After all, all he ever wanted was to be yours. You wouldn't believe the kind of person he'd become if you said you wanted it. he could be anything you want. And if you wanted this pathetic lover boy who's head over heels for you, then that's exactly what he was gonna be. The truth was you could slit his throat and with his one last breath, he'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt. He was empty. There was no him without you. He was just a human blank and empty for you to fill up. He was whatever you wanted him to be. And if anyone else were to kiss him, all they could taste would be your name.

"You said you love me,"

"Of course I do"

"Then prove it to me, make love to me, just make me yours…'cause," he paused looking into your eyes with so much love and dedication that made your heart skip a beat ,"that's all I ever wanna be…" And with that, Beomgyu pulled you into a kiss, a sweet kiss that showed all his emotion.

He kissed like a starved man. Like someone in love. Like someone who has nothing to lose. Or you can say he kissed like person who had just learned a foreign language and only know how to use the present tense and second form. Only now, only you.

The kiss got heated quick, with your tongue shoved in his mouth and he lets you take control, just following your lead like he knows best how. If fucking him was gonna get those words out of his mind, you had no objection in doing it. You really loved Beomgyu. But it seemed like the whole world was against your lover. They always said something was off about him, cutting you off completely when you started dating him and now even your closest friends were threatening him.

You felt bad for him. How the world treats him. So you treated him unlike them. With kindness and love and adoration and you were surprised at the changes it brought you,

"Mmm…. ah.. baby," beomgyu moaned as you pulled out from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his, "need you"

You smirked, seeing the neediness built up in his eyes. Wordlessly, you pushed him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him in a swift movement, "Let me love you tonight, m'kay, baby?" you smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Beomgyu nodded eagerly, hands resting on your hip as he looks at you with a lovestruck expression," yes, mommy," he whispered, closing his eyes contently when he sensed you connecting your lips to his again.

His calloused hands massaged your back, touching and groping anything he could get his hand on. Like he was trying to memorize each curve of your body. You, in return, kissed him with all the love you've got. How could the world be cruel to someone as sweet as Beomgyu? You couldn't understand. They made him hate himself, made him think he was a mistake.

Since the day you met him, Beomgyu always had this mysterious glint in his eyes, like a fire fading out. That dim light would burn brighter every time you looked at him and you thought you've never seen anything as beautiful as that.

"So pretty, Beomi, " you cooed, tracing your fingertips along his perfectly aligned features.

He smiled at you, the fire burning bright inside his eyes and you saw your reflection. And, god, you looked fucking gorgeous. Like a goddess. And maybe that's what you liked about him after all.

The power he gave you.

"You too, mommy, way prettier.." he mumbled, cupping your cheek.

You smiled like a woman drunk in love before going to leave featherlight kisses on his neck. You hear Beomgyu letting out a sigh of relief, relaxing in your comforting touches. You kissed his jaw, then his neck. He lets out a sharp gasp when you sucked on his skin, your teeth digging just enough to feel good and leave a mark. You continued that a few times, and you could hear his breathing getting heavier and heavier each time.

Beomgyu was never a very patient person, especially when you were sitting right on his hardened dick and leaving love bites all around his exposed neck.

He whimpered when you were still only focused on sucking hickeys on his neck. he wanted you to look in the eye as you fuck him, tell him he's yours and that you were his.

"Mommy…more--m'want more," he moaned, his hips not so slightly rutting up against your ass.

You stopped your attack on his neck, licking your lips as you meet his needy eyes filled with lust," be patient, baby. You said you wanted me to make love to you. Or do you just want me to fuck you like a little whore, hm?"

God, beomgyu loved it when you talked with that tone. That condescending tone you used with the tiny smirk tugged on your lips, you looked so evil, hot, evilly hot, he couldn't contain his whimper nor the buck of his hips. And that's all you needed from him. Your smirk growing as you get off him.

"I knew it," Beomgyu's eyes followed your figure as you sat on your knees beside him, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your white shirt, revealing the lacy trims of your red bra," little whore just wants to be fucked dumb, right? Just want to be reminded who he belongs to. Isn't that right, Beomi?" you asked, removing your shirt completely as you spoke.

Beomgyu nodded absently, practically drooling at the sight. His pants felt so tight, he wished you would just stop teasing him already and fuck him dumb like you said. His dick was throbbing at the mere sight of your beautiful body on display. He bit his lips, savoring every moment.

"Like what you see?" you asked seductively, knowing damn well the effect you had on him. Beomgyu nodded frantically, tears welling up in his eyes in need and because he knows you love tears on him. He tried to touch but you denied, "not yet, baby boy"

And with that, you removed the skirt you were wearing, revealing a matching panties to your bra.

"Oh, fuck, mommy, please--," he choked out, " stop teasing! you look so-- so goddamn beautiful, wanna touch you-- wanna feel you--"

Deciding to be generous, you smiled contently, getting on his lap once more, situating your ass right on his boner, grinding in circular motion. Beomgyu lets out an open mouthed moan, closing his eyes at the sudden pleasure.

"feels good, Beomi?" He nodded, eyes still closed," Eyes on me, Beomi."

His eyes immediately opened, looking at with helplessly as you continued to grind on his dick through the fabric of his pants.

"mommy, please-- take it-- off," he begged, hands reaching up to cup your breast. You let him, seeing how he plays with them like a kid with toy.

"Hm? what you say, baby?"

"i said, take it off. Just-- kiss me! love me! make me all yours please--" his begging had your pussy fluttering, juice gushing out quite embarrassingly.

"If you say so"

You got off him again and before he could whine at the lost of contact, you plant a chaste kiss on his lips, hurriedly buttoning down his shirt while tracing kisses along his stomach, not forgetting the purpose at all. You peppered his tummy with kisses, mumbling praises. He whined slightly as you undid his belt, removing his pants completely. He was almost naked, laying there just with his boxer through which his tip leaked.

"So hard for me, yeah?" he nodded, gripping the sheets tightly to stop himself from disobeying by touching you like he wanted," don't worry, I'll take care of that."

You took out his dick, discarding his only piece of garment somewhere in the room. His cock was hard, standing tall with precum leaking from his flushed tip. His dick almost matched his pretty face, if not more. Heat were travelling to a certain place between your thighs. But, not yet, this was about Beomgyu.

"Spread your legs for me, darling," you ordered, Beomgyu obeyed silently, spreading his legs widely just for you. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and you made sure to kiss those pink hues before situating yourself between his legs.

You slowly fisted him earning a moan from Beomgyu. His face twisted in pleasure, back arching slightly at the sensation all while he maintained eye contact with you.

With no wasted moment, you started fisted his cock, running your thumb over his tip to collect moisture and jerk him off more easily. Beomgyu whined and moaned at every sensation, your hand finally where he wants it to be and it felt too good. You hands moved faster, occasionally brushing over his tip to collect the precum.

Beomgyu was never was the quiet one in bed, so with every little movement of your hand, he was moaning your name, whimpering, whining and just straight up blurting nonsense.

"Ah~ah-ah--, oh, mommy, feels so good~~ fa--faster, mommy aaah," his knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets too tight, eyes screwed shut as tears of pleasure welled up.

But, it wasn't enough. He wanted more. This didn't felt intimate enough. He needed you. Every bit of you. Your lips, your hands all over him, choke him, hold him, kiss him, he just needed you. He wanted to hear you call him your good boy, your slut, your anything, just yours.

"Mommy-- ," your head snapped to meet his eyes, where he was looking at you with a hint of desperation and need. It didn't take long for you to figure out what he wanted.

You smiled, slowing down your frantic jerk of a hand, "oh, baby, doing so good for me. Such a good boy, aren't you?" you cooed, stroking his dick more gently.

His breath hitched, nodding along at your words and you didn't miss the way he bucked into your fist at the praise, moans growing higher in pitch. You sped up, your other hand rubbing his quivering thighs.

"Ahh~~ don't wanna-- cum yet, mommy, please--!," he pleaded, so you stopped just before he reached his orgasm.

"Oh, yeah? what does baby want, then?" you asked, climbing on top of him to trail kisses on his exposed chest, heaving up and down.

"Wanna touch you, mommy, please, can- can I?" he begged, hands practically itching to hold you and never let you go, "wanna-- wanna feel you. I want you to --to tell me you're mine. I'm good enough for you, right?"

He sounded so broken and torn, in need of assurance and you'd be damned if you didn't give it to him.

"oh, baby, you're more than enough. Of course, you can touch me," and with your permission, his hands shot up to cup your breast, kneading them between his hands. You smiled at his childsih antics, unclipping your bra and throwing it somewhere in the room to give him full access. Beomgyu moaned at the sight, lifting himself up to take one perky nipple in his mouth, sucking like a baby. You run your hands through his hair, stroking gently and enjoying his warm mouth around you.

"mmm~ taste so good," he mumbled before switching to your other nipple to give them equivalent attention. Yo let him suck for a little longer, enjoying yourself before you finally pulled him off reluctantly.

"That's enough, baby, don't you want me to fuck you?" he nodded instantly, "then, be good for me, yeah?" you said, pushing him down on the bed again.

This time, you took off your already soaked panties, aligning yourself just above his aching dick. Beomgyu lets out a gasp when you started to sink down on him, slowly and sensually. You both let out a moan when you fully sink down on him, your ass resting on his thighs. Beomgyu dug his fingers into the skin of your hips, fighting to urge to just thrust up into you instead of giving you time to adjust to his length.

"Mmmm… mommy's pussy feels so good," he moaned, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"I know, baby," you gritted out, bracing your arms around his tummy as you grind against him, stretching yourself in preparation. Beomgyu took a sharp breath, fondling with your boobs as you continued.

"So good~~" he mumbled, lost in the pleasure, mouth hanging open in complete drunkenness over your pussy. It wrapped around him so right, like it was made for him and only him.

You started to get used to his length, the pain subsiding into a wave of pleasure. So you lift your hips up before slamming back down, getting lost in the feeling of being so full of him. Of Beomgyu. His dick stuffing you so full you could feel every throb of his vein against your wet walls. And god, does it feel good!

"Look at me while I'm fucking you, Beomi," Beomgyu loved your in command voice, when you told him what to do and treated him like he was your property.

"Does it feel good? tell me, baby, do you like it? like mommy fucking you like this?" he nodded, tears falling off of his pretty lashes in pure bliss while you ruthlessly bounced on his cock, desperate to make his pretty head go empty.

"Who's dick is this?" you asked, nails digging on the flesh of his chest in possessiveness and the slight sting just added to the pleasure for Beomgyu. Whimpering and squirming as he answered.

"yours, mommy, yours! all your!," he loved the sound of that, of being yours and only yours. His hands roamed all over you, around your waist, your breast, your face, anywhere he could reach with his needy hand. But that still wasn't enough. He took your hand in his, guiding it around his neck.

"Choke me, mommy, I like it," and you did, panting as you continued you pace on his dick while squeezing your hands with enough pressure to feel good but not enough to completely suffocate him.

"look at that, my little slut likes being choked," Beomgyu whined at the name, his own hips thrusting with yours as your hand tightened around his neck. You removed your hand when he started to look pale and his eyes shoot open, disappointed. Before he had the chance to protest, you picked up your pace, now going harder than before.

"Doing so good for me, baby, I know you like it, don't you? being fucked dumb by mommy," you cooed, " So pretty, all mine." and Beomgyu nodded at that, "all yours,"

The way he so needily admits that had you clenching around him and that has him crashing down, "Ahhh~ mommy, cum--cumming, cumming," he tells you, gripping your hips so tight you knew he's gonna leave a bruise but you couldn't careless, chasing on own high as you sped up.

"Come inside me, baby, fill me up with your cum, you want that right? " he nodded again, frantically unable to use his words anymore as loud moans dragged from his filthy mouth. He was so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear you but you didn't care, not when you felt his hot cum releasing inside you, making you come as well, your juices mixed together with uneven breath.

You grind your hips softly, prolonging both your highs until you crashed on top of him, panting heavily with his cock still inside of you. Beomgyu kissed your neck, "that was amazing," he whispered.

"I know," you replied, getting off him, his dick slipping out and losing its warmth. Beomgyu whined at that, pulling you closer by the waist to hold you in place,"You feel so right....." he mumbled against your chest, his face buried against your boobs.

You smiled, " you know I love you right?"

He nodded,eyes closing in pure bliss, " not as much as I do," you chuckled, playing with strands of his hair, " you love me that much? " you joked. He nodded, " So much it hurts," he replied. You smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead," Mine." "Yours"

[thefanficmonster]

Not sure if ur accepting requests for the bear.. but could we maybe get a Mikey x reader where she finds out she's pregnant after he died (big angst tbh) and she comes to the restaurant a mess and tells everyone and it's sad but everyone's shocked or something idk if that makes sense lol, thanks

Ahhh the angst! My favorite genre to write 🙈 Thank you so much for the request, darling! I hope you enjoy the fic 💌

Too Much, Too Late

Michael 'Mikey' Berzatto x Reader (Female) [The Bear]

Warnings: Mentioned Suicide, Mentioned Past Drug Abuse (dealing and consuming), Pregnancy, Swearing, SPOILERS for The Bear

Genre: ANGST, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Angst with a happy ending

Summary: see request above

It was a job like any other. It was supposed to be one of those briskly-in-swiftly-out deals. All you had to do was keep it on the down low, distribute your products, get your pay and leave.

However, that didn't happen exactly as planned.

"Why are you in such a rush, sweetheart?" You found yourself accosted by a man who was very clearly three sheets to the wind already. The redness of his eyes, the dilated pupils and the alcohol on his breath suggested he was under several influences. Still, none of that was any justification for his borderline sleazy behavior. "Why don't you accompany me in blowing through this, huh?" He held up the baggie he'd just bought off you, causing you to roll your eyes.

In another setting, preferably under vastly different circumstances you would've probably found him attractive and would even like to uphold a conversation with him. Then again, in those ideal circumstances you imagine he wouldn't have been nearly as obnoxious as he was being in that moment.

Besides, you had a strict rule against participating in drugs with your clients. Or just drugs, period. Anything stronger than weed, that is.

You wanted to get him off your back as soon as possible so, instead of shutting him down in your typical cut-throat manner, you decided to let him down slowly and vanish before his object permanence kicked in. "Another time, pal. I have a busy night ahead."

It worked like a charm anytime someone tried to sweep you off your feet.

However, none of those other occasions had any follow-up. This one, on the other hand....

"Hey."

You had been caught up in your thoughts, making a mental itinerary for the next few days worth of deliveries when a voice startled you out of your tranquility.

It was the following morning and you were headed to the dumpster that was your plug's house - if you could even call it that.

Looking up, you couldn't help but frown at the sight of the 'flirt' from last night standing on the porch of your plug's house, leanings against the fence, smoking a cigarette.

"Hi?" The word came out automatically, a notation of confusion to it which made him smile.

"I don't know if you not remembering me is for better or for worse. I understand I came off a bit....gross last night." His unoccupied hand clasped around the back of his neck, an apologetic half-smile on his lips.

Despite being puzzled by the predicament, you found yourself chuckling, "No, no, I remember you. And don't worry about it, you were pretty tame compared to other shitbags I've had to deal with."

Your wording made him let out a laugh, "Yeah, 'shitbag' sums me up nicely."

Realizing how your words were poorly transmitted, you hurried to correct yourself, "No! That's not what I..."

He laughed yet again, amused by the blush that had crept onto your cheeks, "I know, I'm just fucking with you." He flashed you a charming smile as he tossed his cigarette and offered you his hand, "I'm Michael, by the way, but everyone calls me Mikey."

You were surprised by your own lack of hesitation as you took it, "Y/N, nice to meet you, Mikey."

What did surprise you was his smooth gesture - bringing the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles. You could see relief flood his features when you only scoffed in amusement. "Hope you don't mind, I asked around about you at the party last night. You're quite the phantom, you know. Nobody knew anything except your plug and it was a whole other hassle having to track him down."

You would've been lying if you said you didn't find his effort flattering. "Why go through all that trouble?"

There was that charming smile once more, now accompanied by a wink, "Cause that ain't a face you simply forget, darling."

That's how it all started, three years ago. But you can hardly remember any of it now. Everything has quickly been overshadowed by the tragedy that rocked your world.

Losing the love of your life. No one and nothing can ever prepare you for such a thing. No one can take away or aid the pain it brings on. No one can tell you how to move on, if you ever will. No two grieving processes are the same and yours has been very quiet. Too quiet. You can't even remember if you've cried since you found out a week ago. You can't remember having spoken to anyone since that dreadful phone call.

It's all been building up, piling on - the calm before the storm.

And the storm has just crashed down on you, tears finally spilling over past the barrier you're able to hold them at. Sobs scratch up your throat, racking your ribcage, echoing back at you off the bathroom walls. All the agony, all the pain, the regret, the guilt the grief - it all spills out in those harrowing sobs as tears stream down your face, falling onto the sink counter and pregnancy test on it.

The positive pregnancy test.

"No, no, no...." You mumble to yourself in despair, unsure of what exactly you're saying no to.

You don't even have time to process how you feel about it, if you want it, whether you're happy about it or not. All that's plaguing your mind is the gnawing thought of what if?

What if you'd found out two weeks earlier? What if you told him? What if that changed his mind? Would you still have him by your side if he knew he'd be a dad? Would this be a reason for joy and excitement for the two of you? Having your own little family, fucked up in its own way but miles better than your individual families.

You never met his, he never met your. Unlike him, though, you haven't seen your folks in years, five to be exact. He put up with his, you had cut off yours.

You're well versed into his family and their dynamics though, thanks to all the stories Mikey told you throughout the years. You specifically remember him talking about his siblings with such adoration. Natalie and Carmen. The only supposedly sane ones of the bunch.

Wiping the tears off your burning red cheeks, you regain control of your breathing, effectively calming yourself down as you take a long look at yourself in the mirror. You will yourself to put a hand over your belly, taking a moment to let the realization of there being a living thing inside you sink in.

Your and Mikey's baby.

A baby that'll never know the wonderful man that is their dad.

"Don't worry, baby. If they don't want us, we'll always have each other."

* * * * *

After a sleepless night, you find yourself struggling not to nod off on the train.

You thought you'd feel a lot more....well, something more as you approach the inevitable meeting with Mikey's brother. Instead, you're quite numb, immune to whatever you might be faced with once you arrive at the restaurant. Nothing he might say or do can faze you, not after the week you've had. Though you're pretty sure his hasn't been any better. He lost his brother after all. It could be a point of mutual understanding for the two of you or a point of collision and apperhension.

Only one way to find out.

You're surprised by the sheer boldness with which you enter the sandwich shop. Again, you thought you might exhibit at least mild hesitation but you have never been prone to such reservations. You still do things like you used to back in your dealer days - briskly-in-swiftly-out.

This is no different.

Upon entry, the interior feels familiar. You've been here only twice before, always after closing, snuck in by Mikey as a date night. He'd cook for you while you DJed with the restaurant sound system in the office. It was the peak of romance in your relationship.

Never once did you think one day you'd be coming in alone, during work hours, the memories bringing tears to your eyes.

You push the pain to the backburner when a waiter approaches you. "Welcome, what can I get ya?"

You force the closest thing to a smile you can manage, "Carmen Berzatto, if possible."

Just then, as if on cue, sounds of chaos flood out from the kitchen into the seating area. It doesn't really seem to bother any of the three tables enjoying their meal, but you are certainly a little shocked. You remember Mikey mentioning shit would get chaotic in back of house, but you'd never imagined it'd be this bad.

The waiter casually peers over his shoulder, pressing his lips in a thin line, "I can't promise you anything but I'll go ask. Who's asking for him?" He inquires, already uneasy at the thought of what he'll be met with in the kitchen.

"Mikey's girlfriend." You watch, in real time, as the poor guy's eyes hollow out in shock, his eyebrows raising impossibly high.

Despite being rattled by your response, he manages to clear his throat and murmur a quick, "Please wait here" before disappearing out of view.

Less than a minute later, the door to the kitchen swung open again, the man emerging from the kitchen shocking you with his lack of resemblance to Michael. Fair hair, bright blue eyes, overall soft features whereas Mikey was all sharp edges, dark brown hair and chocolate eyes.

He too, quite like his brother, is doing a poor job masking his confusion as he offers you a tattooed hand as a greeting, "Hi."

You take it, "Hi."

The rowdiness picks up yet again, causing Carmy to motion for you to follow him, "It's a little too loud in here." You nod and follow suit as he leads you out through a back exit to a fenced of area. He shuts the door, drowning out most of the noise before he turns back to face you, "Alright, tell me everything."

It takes all the will you have coupled with all the pride within you not to let yourself shed any tears as you sum up five of the best years of your life in front of this stranger. It gets especially hard when you see his eyes gloss over but you manage to keep it together. Your chest feels somewhat lighter once you bare one of the biggest secrets in your life, knowing there cannot be any repercussions now.

Because...well...he's gone.

"Fuck..." Is all Carmy can say to break the silence after you've concluded your story. His gaze is trained on the ground, his hand cupped around his mouth. He suddenly lifts his head to look at you, making you feel a little too exposed. Those eyes stare right through you. "Why didn't he ever tell us about you?"

You shrug, you have no real answer. You don't know why he would tell them but you're none the wiser as to why he didn't tell them either. So, you just stay quiet.

He nods, pausing for a second to collect his thoughts before speaking up again, "I-I gotta ask...did you suspect anything? Like, did you see any signs?"

You were expecting this. That doesn't mean it hurts any less to actually hear him ask it. You force yourself to inhale a shaky breath before replying, speaking around the knot in your throat, "No. I saw him that morning, he seemed fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. We were talking about the game. He was excited the Sox had won. He made us breakfast. I ironed his shirt for work and I sent him off. And...." You take a moment to maintain your composure, "...that was the last time I saw him."

"Fucking hell..." He sighs out, the curse pouring out from the depths of his soul. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, taking one and offering the pack to you, "You smoke?"

You shake your head, "Yeah, but I can't right now." You let out a bitter chuckle as you add on: "Last night...I found out I'm pregnant."

Carmy chokes on the puff he'd just inhaled, coughing out the smoke. He gives you a deer-in-headlights look, trying to gouge your reaction so he can mimic his accordingly. You help him out by giving him a slight smile, allowing him to reflect it back at you ten fold.

"No fucking way." He laughs, prompting you to nod, your eyes filling with tears for the millionth time today. He tosses his cigarette, motioning for you to approach him, "Come here." His arms wrap around you and you damn near break down, finally allowing yourself to shed those tears you've been holding back as you hug him back, squeezing him tightly.

You didn't realize how much you'd needed that hug, that comfort. You had no one to offer it to you. It's funny how quickly people can become important in our lives - in this case, only minutes after entering yours.

You're both startled when the door is thrown open revealing a man you don't recognize initially. His demeanor allows you to connect him to a name soon though.

"Cousin, what the fuck?! We're fighting a war in there...- oh, my bad." He straightens his attitude when he notices you, "Hi there."

Sniffling, Carmy wipes a stray tear before offering Richie a wide smile, "Cousin, we're gonna be uncles."

The confusion on his face provokes a laugh out of you, a genuine one at that. It's refreshing, nostalgic almost. And although you're well aware you'll have to retell your and Mikey's story several more times to catch people up to speed, you know that it'll be a little less dreadful each time.

* * * * *

It's over. The five minutes of utter hell and chaos are over.

You share a look of disbelief with Syd before bursting out in hysterical laughter, enveloping each other in a hug.

"We did it."

"We fucking did it."

Wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, you beam up at Richie who is equally as high on the feel of accomplishment. His arms wrap around you so tightly, he momentarily lifts you off the ground.

It's finally the calm after the storm. You can finally relax without waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You rush out to the dining are, going straight to Sugar and Pete's table where your one year old son is being entertained by the couple, cackling as Pete tickles his feet.

"Hope he wasn't too much trouble." You say as you approach their side, your voice prompting Sugar to get up and practically tackle you with upmost joy.

"Great job back there, Y/N." She beams at you, holding your hands tightly when she pulls away.

"You too, mama." You smile back, resting a hand over her swollen belly just in time to feel a kick.

Turning back to Calvin, you see him making grabby hands at you, giggling when you pick him up, peppering kisses all over his face, "Hi, baby!" You coo to him, adjusting his surprisingly still clean shirt. A fancy one, curtesy of Richie. Him, Fak and Calvin are in matching suits tonight and it's the most adorable thing. "Wanna go see uncle Carmy?"

It's ridiculous you even asked. The little boy cheers happily, kicking his feet as you carry him back to the kitchen, stopping in front of the freezer door to knock on it.

"What?!" You hear Carmy's rough voice boom from inside.

"Carmy!" Calvin calls out to his uncle, his tiny hands tapping on the freezer door, "Hiiii!"

"Hi Baby Bear." His tone has softened now, raising to an octave higher, "Your mommy is a badass, you know that."

"Oh he knows." You reply, resting your forehead on the cool metal, "We did it, Carm. We took care of it. Everything's handled, don't worry." You take this moment of calmness on his end to reassure him that no matter what anxieties are plaguing him, everything is and will be fine.

"I know you did, Y/N. You're an awesome team. Just wish I was in the fire with you, you know?" He says through a shaky breath, causing your heart to ache.

"Oh this was just the frying pan, dude. You'll be there for the many fires to come." Your words are successful in making him laugh, bringing you relief.

"I cook too!" Calvin proudly proclaims, making you both chuckle.

"You'll cook too, Teddy Bear. You'll be the best fucking chef ever." You gave up a while ago trying to shield Calvin from the sailor mouths of the Berzatto family and the restaurant as a whole. If he has a potty mouth from a very early age, you'll just blame it on his dad and uncles.

You never dreamed you'd find yourself in the cahoots of such a batshit crazy and immensely loving family. It really makes you feel a sense of fulfillment looking back at how far you've come and look forward knowing that you'll never come to a point where you'll be alone.

You'll always have your son, the Berzattos and The Bear by your side.

[callme-dickmaster]

Headboard

summary: eddie buys a headboard (and frame) for his bed but there's something... off about it.

pairing: eddie x fem!reader - no use of y/n

cw: 18+ (minors dni) this is obnoxiously long, established relationship, L-bombs, pet names, mentions of nosebleed, accidental injury, small abuse mention (nothing bad), mentions of sex, funny shit, teasing, wayne being an icon, eddie being a goofy dork, -I think that's all-

author's note: hey y'all 😩 I've been gone for a bit lol. All I've had time for is scrolling and not being able to write has been so depressing tbh. That with all the holidays and family drama I got going on rn has been so stressful omg. But I'm heree I'm writing now that I have a free minute to myself. Soo thanks for being patient love you! <3

(NOT PROOFREAD)

Eddie huffed, putting his hands on his hips as he glared at the bed frame and headboard sitting on his bedroom floor. Wayne hummed, tilting his head to look at the picture on the white headboard.

"Well, son, I didn't know princesses were your style!" he chuckled. Eddie rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "They're not! Dude didn't tell me it was his daughter's headboard!" he whined.

Wayne laughed, clapping a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Look, I'll run down to Melvald's and get you some paint. What you think? Bubblegum pink?" Wayne asked before busting out laughing.

Eddie crossed his arms, glaring at his uncle, "Oh, you think you're so funny. Well, I'll just put it on backwards so no one can see it. How about that?" he said. Wayne snorted and put his hands up in surrender. "Suit yourself!" he said before walking out of the room. Eddie sighed, grabbing a hair tie sitting on his bed, and pulling his hair up into a bun.

The only reason he got the damn thing was because of you. There were too many times during sex when he couldn't catch himself on the wall in time before falling on top of you. One trip to the ER after giving you a nosebleed was enough for him. So, he searched until he found a guy that was getting rid of a bed frame and headboard for a twin XL which was perfect. Only he didn't realize until he brought it home and took it out of the box that it was his ten-year-old daughter's headboard that had Disney princesses all over it.

Eddie sat on his floor, screwing together the bars that made up his bedframe until it came time to face the princesses. Eddie turned the headboard so it faced the wall and tried to screw it in backwards like he said. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't ask for you," Eddie snapped at Snow White. He rolled his eyes and continued his attempts with no such luck.

"Hey, boy. Your girl's here and I'm gonna go get you that paint. And don't worry, I won't get pink I promise," Wayne chuckled. Eddie snorted and thanked him, "Black, please. If you don't mind. If the pink is cheaper go on ahead," he joked. Wayne saluted him, grabbed his keys, and left. He ran into you on his way to his truck and he just had to tell you what was going on.

"Eddie got a bedframe and it's... not what he wanted. So I'm getting him some paint. You want anything while I'm out, dolly?" Wayne asked. You smiled and shook your head, "No, I'm alright. Thank you though! I'll go see what this dork is up to. I'll hold up the fort while you're gone. God knows what Eddie'll do alone," you laughed. Wayne laughed and ruffled your hair before hopping in his old truck and driving away.

You walked into the trailer and kicked off your shoes before wandering into Eddie's room and laughing at him sitting criss-cross on the floor trying to screw on a headboard the wrong way. "You look goofy," you snickered. "Jesus! Baby, you scared the shit out of me!" Eddie exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest.

You smiled and flopped down on his bed. Eddie gave up on his project and leaned down to kiss you instead. "Got a headboard so I can't abuse you anymore," Eddie snickered, bopping your nose to prove his point. You laughed and rolled your eyes, "It was one time 'ya goober!" you giggled, bopping him back.

"Still! At least now I can do that super hot and sexy headboard maneuver when we do it," Eddie said, doing air thrusts and pretending to smack someone's ass. You smacked your hand to your forehead, but you had to laugh anyway. Eddie snickered and flicked some stray hairs out of his face. "Wayne tell you he was getting paint?" he asked, sitting on the floor in front of you and rubbing circles into your calves. You smiled, playing with his hair as best you could in its bun. "Yeah. What's wrong with it anyway? Looks like a normal ass headboard," you asked.

Eddie sighed, going over to the stupid thing and turning it to show you the problem. You covered your mouth before bursting into laughter.

"Don't laugh!" Eddie grumbled, pouting and squinting at Cinderella's mocking smile. You giggled, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye. "I'm not laughing at you! I just think it would be fucking hilarious if we were doing it and Snow White was staring you down!" you laughed.

Eddie curled his lips in, trying to pretend like that wouldn't be funny. "Look, just- when Wayne comes back will you help me paint?" Eddie asked, "I'll make you popcorn and we can watch a movie after?" he offered to sweeten the pot. You hummed and faked having to think about it before you smiled and agreed. Eddie cupped your cheeks and kissed you as a thank you, planting tiny kisses all over your face after.

"Okay! Okay! Don't smother me, goof," you giggled.

"I just love you."

"I love you too, but you're squishing my cheeks, dear."

--

"I'm so sorry, baby," Eddie breathed, holding a handful of tissues to your bleeding nose. You side-eyed him and sighed. "I thought you said the headboard was gonna fix this problem. I think it might've broken this time," you said. Eddie winced, reaching over to the tissue box the hospital receptionist gave you two.

"I'm really sorry. I tried to catch myself! I just... missed?" Eddie said, cringing. You snickered and sighed, tossing your clump of tissues away and grabbing more. "It's okay. It'll be a funny story to tell the kids someday," you said.

"We're not telling the kids you broke your nose having sex!"

small a/n: it's been a while lol but hopefully this is alright :)

[estxkios]

HEYYY OMG I LOVE UR WRITING WHAT??

ANWAYS, could you do something with drunk bill? not smut, but like bassicly reader picks him up from a party or something and he’s like SUPPERRDUPPERR drunk LOL. and later in the story he’s keeping reader awake by talking so much, and reader just exhausted and so tired of his shit and accidentally tells him to shut the fuck up or something like that. then billy willy starts crying bcs he’s drunk and can’t process and reader just comforts him.

TYSM!! xx

FEELINGS ੈ✩‧₊˚

2008 bill kaulitz x fem!reader

summary : the request :3

warnings: ANGST with comfort!!, reader is grumpy, drunk bill, a lot of swearing, bill gets comfort not the reader...

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;- 2:16 am

“what the fuck..?” you muttered under your breath.

your room was completely dark, your phone screen turning on as you received text after text was the only thing that illuminated it.

you tried to shift your position in bed, turning away from the phone. 

you tried to ignore the messages.

but they just kept coming to a point where you could no longer ignore the irritating rattle of your phone against your nightstand.

you let out a string of curse words as you shift in your bed once again.

you reach your arm out towards your nightstand and aimlessly grope for your phone until you find it.

you squint your eyes as they adjust to the brightness of your phone, finally seeing who has been disturbing your sleep.

it was your boyfriend.

;- 2:24 am

you and bill had eachothers location, so finding him wasn’t going to be the hard part. 

the hard part was going to be trying not to fall asleep at the wheel as your drove to whatever house party bill was attending tonight.

well, trying to get your drunk boyfriend in the car would be hard too, but based on his texts, he would probably be too intoxicated to break free from your arms as you shoved him in the back seat like you have done previously.

-; 2:35 am

you could hear the faint sound of trashy music playing as you pulled into the driveway and right as you exited your car you bee-lined for the front door.

you pounded on the door loudly enough so that people would be able to hear it over the music. 

no answer.

“oh-! hiii baby!” a voice said behind you, to which you immediately whipped your head around.

“whatthefuck-“ you stopped when you realized who it was, “bill? why the fuck are you outside?” 

“i was jus’ waiting for youu!” he stumbled towards you and smiled.

you shook your head and laughed to yourself in disbelief. how much had he had to drink?

“yeah, okay.” you paused, “we’re going to my house. c’mon” 

you grabbed bills arm and led him to the passenger seat, he was trying to open the door while you rummaged around in your purse trying to find your keys, the darkness which surrounded the two of you definitely didn’t help this.

bill kept pulling the door handle.

“bill fucking stop you’re gonna rip the door handle off-..“ you found your keys and unlocked the door.

“m’sorry! i jus wanna-“ he tried to continue talking but you pushed him into his seat as fast as you could and shut the door.

you were so ready to get back in your bed as sleep. 

-; 2:40 am

on the drive back to your house, bill stayed mostly quiet.

“are you okay?” you asked him in a concerned tone, “because you’re usually a fucking obnoxious drunk-“

“im not drunk.!.” he looked at you with a very stern expression and you couldn’t help giggle.

“okay.”

-; 2:50 am

when you finally got back to your house you did the same as when you arrived at the frat house. 

you immediately bee-lined for the door.

except the difference was you now had a drunk bill following you.

once again fumbling with your keys, you unlocked the door, bill attached to your arm.

“go to the spare room bill, or take the couch, i don’t care.” you said as you hung your jacket and purse back in their designated areas.

“okayyy..” bill obliged, walking down the hallway towards the bedrooms.

you followed after him moments later, walking into your bedroom.

as you went to settle into your bed you saw something that certainly wasn’t one of the many blankets that littered your room.

“bill.”

“hm? oh hi y/n!” you could see his toothy smile at you even in the darkness. 

“bill, i said go to the spare room. i actually need to sleep tonight. please, baby.”

“but- but i don’t wanna be alone!” he cried, “i promise i will never ever do this again, please can i just stay in here?”

you thought about shoving him off of your bed and letting him find his way to the spare room, but then you thought about how hard it would be to get him off of the floor once you pushed him off the bed.

so you scratched that idea.

“fine..” you muttered, “but be quiet, okay? can you do that for me?” you kissed him lightly on his sweet alcohol-ridden lips.

he looked at you with drunken eyes and smiled. “okay..”  

you smiled at him through the darkness and planted a kiss on his forehead, then continuing to position yourself in a comfortable sleeping position. 

after moments of silence, you thought bill had fallen asleep.

but no.

you flinched as he started fidgeting with your hair, although soon after you leaned into the touch as he usually did this to help soothe himself to sleep

then you heard suppressed giggles behind you which soon turned into full-on laughs.

you tried to ignore him, thinking it would end soon.

but once again, no.

“bill, stop.”  you would whisper, but he couldn’t. 

he brought his hand up to cover his mouth. 

big mistake.

the hand he intended to cover his mouth with was the one he had tangled up in your hair, which led to him accidentally tugging on your hair as he brought it up to his mouth. 

“bill what the fuck!? - ow!” you whipped back at him, “that was my fucking hair!”

you rubbed the back of your head where bill had tugged to soothe the pain, muttering to yourself as you did so.

bill didn’t utter a word. 

you stared into his pitiful eyes and spat many insults at him before grabbing a stray pillow and smacking it between the two of you.

that had to keep him from disrupting your sleep, right?

not right.

the giggles that you heard behind your back minutes ago had now turned into small whimpers.

the bed shook behind you as bill whined out an unsteady breath.

he had to be messing with you.

you turned around for the final time, about to completely snap, “bill can you just fucking-“

you fell silent and stared into bills eyes which were somehow even more pitiful than before.

his makeup was not yet running down his face but it was smudged under his eyes, a streak of the black shadow ran up into his hairline where he had presumably wiped it.

bill sat up, but that didn’t keep him from breaking down. “i didn’t mean to pull your hair..!!” he hid his head in his hands, sobbing into them.

“oh bill…” you almost started crying seeing the state that he was in. how could you have made your own boyfriend feel like this?

you removed the pillow that you had put between the two of you, discarding it onto the floor as you practically scooped bill up in your arms.

you hugged him tightly as he sobbed into your shoulder.

“i- im so sorry!!” he whined out almost incomprehensibly. he was a drunk, sobbing mess.

“bill.. please don’t apologize..” you stroked the back of his head, gently combing through his rough black hair.

“do you still love me?” his manicured nails dug into your shoulders nervously as he waited for a response.

your heart sunk as his words. had you made him feel like you didn’t love him?

you moved your arms to wrap firmly around bills torso, pulling him flush against you.

you held him tightly, holding back tears of your own as you rested your chin on his head.

“bill..” you trailed off, moving your head away from his as you gently tried to get him to meet your gaze. “i love you so much.. i’m sorry for snapping. really. i’m so fucking sorry. i’m just so tired and-“ 

bill cut you off by smashing his head into your chest, “i really didnt mean to hurt you.. i was just trying to go to sleep..”

“i know you didn’t mean to hurt me bill.. its really okay.”

you felt bill nod into your chest, the poor boy was so tired and he was just trying to soothe himself to sleep.

god, why did you yell at him?

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

oh i really hate this but enjoy nonetheless

[lovemybluebully]

Feels Like Home

Holy shit! What the fuck is going on???!!! I finished a fic!!!! 😱🥰 So proud of myself right now.

Get your special sock out, nerds. It's gonna get good. 🤣

Logan has become downcast about the prospect of moving into a new apartment. Wade offers a foot massage to help him destress and.....You already know where this is going. 🤣

FYI! So yeah this fic is all foot tickles so if you're one of those people who detests feet then you may not want to read this. It is all SFW fluff kinda tickles though.

I skimmed through it as a quick edit so there may be some small fuck-ups, but I'll recheck it later and try to fix anything. Please enjoy!!

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

Word Count: 5,670 (That's a lot of words! 😳 You'll be here for a minute. lol)

It had been a few months now since Wade had returned triumphant to restore his timeline's integrity. No one really knew what to think when he introduced his newfound roommate to all of his loved ones, but with Wade being the happiest they had seen him in a long time they realized this Wolverine was responsible for that and were quick to accept him.

The adjustment period with Logan getting used to routine and having a place to return to every day went surprisingly well, and he found that he got along great with Althea. They bonded over ganging up to shit-talk Wade whenever he would get overbearingly obnoxious, but Wade simply revelled in it all. Hardly anything seemed to truly bother him these days.

Because with Wolverine at his side Wade now had some clout and was back to doing some mercenary for hire jobs, which more than covered the full rent of his apartment, bringing much relief to Althea to not have to worry about that anymore.

Logan solely had been offered some side work from Shield, but he insisted that he and Wade were a team and the only way they were getting him would be if they accepted Wade as well. They of course agreed to his terms and Wade was beyond grateful that not only was he now officially part of a team, but that Logan had stood up for him.

With their new jobs they were easily able to afford a much larger apartment as Wade excitedly broke the news to Althea that he and Logan would be moving out, though they still planned to pay her rent for her. He thought the woman would be ecstatic to finally have a place all to herself again without having to put up with his constant bullshit, but a wave of sadness seemed to wash over her instead.

The two men picked up on it instantly and after exchanging a glance with each other it didn't even require any further discussion. Blind Al was coming with them. They set upon getting her settled in first and made all the required trips back and forth between the apartments to move in all her possessions and made sure that she had everything she needed.

Logan stayed behind to box up the rest of their things while Wade dropped Althea and Mary Puppins off at the new apartment and the merc was happy to see how excited Althea was about all the extra space and no longer having to share a room with Wade.

Upon returning to help Logan, Wade found that he had already gotten everything that was remaining by the front door and ready to be moved. Really the only thing left in the apartment was their old couch that they were leaving behind, though this is where he currently found Logan laying and staring up at the ceiling in dull silence.

"Time's a wasting, pal. Get that sexy ass moving and let's haul the rest of this crap over to the new place," he called as he started to pick up one of the boxes before noticing that Logan hadn't moved or responded. Setting it back onto the floor he walked over to stand over the other man and look down at him, snapping his fingers in his face.

"Helloooo? Are you alive in there? Blink twice if you're not being mind controlled and held against your will."

Logan didn't blink. He hadn't this whole time. His eyes just seemed to be staring straight through Wade with a sadness hidden in the back of them, but he did give a soft sigh of a response.

"Yeah, I hear ya, bub."

Over time Wade had become better at figuring out when situations needed a more serious approach so he backed off on making another joke.

"What's the matter, Log? Aren't you anxious to get to the new apartment?"

"Sure," he said with no real emotion; his vague answers not revealing anything to Wade and making him determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Okay, what in the actual fuck is going on here? It's all we've been talking about for weeks. Explain the sudden melancholy," Wade allowed him a few moments, but when Logan didn't reply he narrowed his eyes at him, "Talk, or I'll make you talk."

He then gave a warning poke to Logan's ribs as the older man jumped and seemed to come out of his trance while his eyes finally blinked to focus on a concerned Wade. Groaning, he rubbed a hand over his listless face.

"Fuck. I don't know, I guess.......I guess I just realized that I'm gonna miss this place. A lot. Yeah, it's kind of a shit hole, but it's the first spot that I've been able to call home in a really....really long time. A place I actually belonged."

Wade's demeanor softened immediately once the truth had been revealed. Even though Logan had never said it outright Wade knew he had been grateful for the invite to live together. He just didn't realize exactly how much it all had meant to him.

"Hey hey cheer up," Wade placed a hand on his shoulder to give a gentle squeeze, "We're moving onto bigger and better things, my stab-happy friend. Now's not the time to be down when we should be celebrating."

Logan let out another unenthusiastic exhale, sitting himself up.

"I know it. Sorry, it just isn't sitting well with my head. Everything about this apartment holds a place in my memory, and this couch.....I've spent a lot of time on this couch. It ain't the most comfortable, but it gave me a place of my own where I could sleep in peace," he rubbed his hand over the couch arm fondly.

"You're going to have your own bed now, buddy. A real one. Not this piece of shit pull-out," Wade kicked the couch but immediately regretted it when he saw the frown of offense on Logan's face, "Sorry. I'm just saying we don't have to settle for mediocrity anymore. And hey, it's not the end of the world. Our new place is going to be just as good. Better even, and the most important thing is that we're all still together."

"You're right, and half of me is looking forward to it. Just the other half of me doesn't want to let go so easily. It's one of those bittersweet kinda things. I appreciate what this apartment has done for me.....what you've done for me, even though I know I don't make it easy sometimes."

"You're right on that one, buddy. But that's okay, you know I like it when you make it hard," Wade took a try at making a twisted innuendo, feeling hopeful when Logan huffed out a barely noticeable snort through his nostrils and shook his head.

"I don't know where I'm going with all this. Just ignore me. Stupid thoughts in my head. But I would like to just sit here a little longer though, if that's alright with you."

"Of course it is. We got 'til the end of the day on the lease so technically it's still ours until then," Wade replied as Logan gave a short nod and lowered his eyes, making Wade tilt his head in concern for his friend, "You sure there's nothing I can do in the meantime to cheer you up?"

"Ya don't have to waste that kinda effort on me, Wade. But maybe....if ya don't mind that is....you can stay here with me. Kinda eerie bein' in this place without ya and not hearing your obnoxious loud mouth every five seconds," the corner of Logan's mouth ticked up into the smallest of smiles, making Wade's heart flutter in joy.

"I knew deep down under all the insufferable machismo that you love me. I'll be writing a long, self-gratuitous entry about that in my diary later tonight. Only my version is going to be a lot more risqué," Wade added, trying to get another reaction out of him as Logan just rolled his eyes.

"Just keep it to yourself, moron. Ugh, too bad we already moved out all the alcohol. I could really use a drink to clear my head," he lifted a big hand as his fingers massaged the temples on the sides of his forehead.

Wade's face twisted in thought as he looked for something helpful around the empty apartment that he could use to lighten his friend's mood. But they had done a pretty thorough job cleaning up the place so Wade could get the deposit back, making him come up empty.

Still Logan had only wanted for Wade to stay there with him so he figured he might as well make himself comfortable. As he looked towards the end of the couch to find a seat, he quickly took notice that Logan was barefoot, which was not an uncommon sight these days.

Once he'd originally made himself at home in the apartment, Logan had begun ditching his footwear every day as soon as he'd enter the abode. He preferred the feeling of being free of constricting shoes and with his heightened senses he enjoyed the sensory feedback he received by having such close contact to the ground.

Even though it left him vulnerable to Wade's irresistible urges to go after his feet, which the hyperactive man had delightedly found to be devastatingly ticklish, he still felt it was worth the risk to truly feel content in his own skin. He always had to be on his guard though.

Wade now smiled widely as he came up with the perfect solution that was guaranteed to get the both of them into better spirits.

"What are you doing, Wade?" Logan inquired suspiciously as the merc picked up his long legs, sitting down on the couch before lowering them back down to end up with Logan's feet on his lap. He then smiled innocently at the perplexed man.

"You need to unwind a little, Peanut, and Dr. Wade is here to prescribe the remedy.....One soothing, with totally no underlying motives, foot massage coming up!"

Logan's body noticeably stiffened up at the thought of his feet being touched, an uneasy growl rising up in the back of his throat.

"Have you seriously not learned from the hundreds of times I've kicked you? I'm way too ticklish for you to be doing that," he started to pull his feet back, but Wade grabbed onto his ankles.

"Oh, don't be silly. You're not that ticklish," he yanked the feet back with little resistance while Logan quirked an eyebrow.

"Tell that to your nasal septum that I caved in last week."

"And my nose has never looked better! Look sort of like a young Marlon Brando, wouldn't you say?" Wade chuckled as he turned his head to give a side profile while Logan frowned skeptically, "Come on, just let me try. Just take a deep breath and relax and it will be no problem. Trust me, it'll make you feel a lot better."

Logan sighed, running his hands over his face and then back through his hair as he considered the proposal. He knew whenever Wade was dead set on something it was nearly impossible to talk him out of it so most of the time he wouldn't even waste his breath. And hell, maybe this really would help him feel better.

"Just don't say I didn't warn ya. Absolutely no promises that I won't end up kicking your fucking teeth into your skull. Especially if ya tickle me on purpose."

Wade delivered a goofy salute and scooted around into a better angle to deliver attention to the feet on his thighs.

"I hear you loud and clear, and I sign the waiver releasing you from all responsibility to any injuries I may sustain in the process. I'm not going to try to tickle you though so just get that thought out of your head, okay? Gonna start off super slow here."

First Wade wrapped a hand around each foot and just held them there, not moving and attempting to get Logan used to the physical contact. Though as soon as the hands were placed on his feet Logan's muscles immediately tensed again.

He tried to do as Wade instructed and will his body to calm itself as he took some deep inhales and exhales and tried to force the muscles in his legs to loosen up. 

"You doing alright there, buddy?"

"I'm....I don't know yet. Just get on with it. The anticipation is killing me the most here," Logan shook his head, trying to put his mind outside of his body and not focus on the touching too much. For a man with heightened senses though that was easier said than done.

"Hmm eager, are we? I would be too if I were in your place. My fingers are positively magic. Sorry I don't have any of my massage oils here though," Wade's fingers gently moved around and started slowly kneading at the balls of his feet as Logan breathed deeply and clenched his jaw to keep a straight face.

"It's fine. Would probably make it worse, honestly."

"You're so dramatic. But so far so good, right? How about this....?" He held both sides of one foot and firmly pulled the flesh out in opposite directions repeatedly before doing the same to the other foot. 

He hadn't heard a peep from the other man and looked over to see a grin had fought its way onto his face while he had also closed his eyes in an attempt to focus on something else.

"Remember to breath, big guy. Isn't this nice?" He then cradled the top of Logan's right foot with one hand and begin rubbing his thumb in small circles into the arch, prompting the foot to instantly be yanked from his grasp along with a loud snort from the Wolverine.

Logan shook off the shiver that had just shot up his spine and looked up to find Wade smiling at him in amusement before beckoning forward with his hand.

"Don't fuckin' give me that look. Ya know I can't help it," the feral mutant muttered sheepishly and offered back his withdrawn foot.

"Aw c'mon, you can't tell me that doesn't feel good at least a little?" Wade smirked and repeated the same technique he had just been doing as Logan forced himself not to pull away this time and instead just let out some of the giggles that he'd been holding back. It actually did feel good in a maddening sort of way.

"Kkkk-Kinda-ehehehehehehee. Buhut it st-still tihihiiickles," his body was squirming now, his feet twitching under Wade's hands as he fought to get control of himself.

"You know being ticklish is more mind over matter. So tell yourself that you aren't ticklish, and you won't be," the merc tried to offer what he thought was some solid advice, but Logan simply scoffed at it

"Bullshit," Logan had a few more giggles slip past his clenched teeth, "Don't thihink I wouldn't have alreheheheady tried thaahaat?"

"It's all about willpower. I'm not saying it's easy, but it's definitely possible. Not that I'd ever want you to stop being one bit less ticklish," Wade now used the tips of his fingers to drag his blunt nails down the lengths of both soles.

"Gaahaah!" Logan had not been expecting the sharper sensations and almost went through the roof as he jerked his feet back with his knees nearly hitting himself in the chest, "Goddammit! You wanna get kicked?! No tickling!"

"I'm not tickling. I'm simply waking up your nerves to increase the effectiveness of the massage. It's a legit method, look it up," Wade gave a smug little smirk at this loophole he'd found while receiving a skeptical glare in return.

"Trust me, they're awake. You can skip that one, alright?"

"No worries Peanut, I gotcha," Wade nodded, sitting up straight and patting his lap before holding his hands out expectedly, "Now if you would, please resume the position." 

Logan hesitated with his brow piqued while internally questioning the sincerity of the man before him.

"You gonna be nice?"

Wade mocked a face of offense, placing a hand over his heart.

"Moi? How could you even say that? You know I'm always nice. Now let me finish what I started here. It's not gonna be as good if you don't let me complete the process."

Logan took another moment to consider the situation as he carefully weighed his options. He could decline and go back to sulking while Wade just pesters him the whole time about why he should let him complete the massage, or he could just skip all that hassle and allow Wade to continue now.

Wade smirked in victory as Logan reluctantly returned his feet to his lap and sat back in resignation with his arms crossed over his chest.

"That's a good boy. I'll try something a little different this time. Maybe what you need is a firmer touch," Wade now made a fist and used his knuckles to knead into the balls of his feet with a twisting motion as he went along, using his other hand to hold the feet stable. 

He thought it was succeeding in not causing a ticklish sensation, but seconds later Logan's legs tensed up again while he started letting out little growls to conceal the more embarrassing sounds. Wade only laughed softly and shook his head in amusement.

"Serious question, did any of your enemies know you're this ticklish? Not that I can picture you being in a tickle fight with the likes of Sabretooth. Mmm, potential fanfic idea. Gotta remember to jot that one down in my diary."

"Of course they dihihihidn't," a few giggles slipped out as Logan could feel the electricity running up his legs, transforming into his upper body squirming about, "I d-don't advertise it. Hehehe, watch it."

Wade's knuckles were rolling along his arch at this point.

"Well, you certainly dodged a bullet there, compadre. If they all knew how easily you fall apart from being tickled then you'd be the biggest liability ever! Every villain in the MCU would want to get their hands on you to get you spilling all that top-secret information and most well-guarded secrets," he grabbed all the toes on one foot and stretched them back while applying pressure with his thumb underneath the ball of the foot to rub tight circles.

"Th-That's-That's nohot truhue," Logan sputtered in response to the new technique being used, "I wohohohouldn't break. Besides, they prefeheher hehehehe-hurting me and mahahahaking me bleeheeheed."

"Maybe, but they know using pain against you is useless, you little masochist. They need to explore alternative methods. You think I'm bad? Well you haven't seen real tickle torture, my naive honey badger. I'm only capable of getting you in maybe two spots at once. But them? They would tickle you everywhere. All. At. The. Same. Time. Guarantee you'd be a straight goner."

A foot gave him a harsh kick in the ribs.

"Wihihill you shuhuhut up alreheheady?! That ihihisn't hehehelping," Logan snorted and put his hands over his face, giggling behind them as he slumped down on the couch and tried to clear those disturbing images from his head, "You-You almohohost dohohone?!"

Wade chuckled at his success in managing to fluster the complete fuck out of Logan.

"Not quite. This might take a while. We've got a lot of ground to cover here. Hmm, another question. Now I could be wrong, but haven't I seen these puppies in a Tarantino movie?"

"The fuhuhuck are yoohoou tahalkin' about?!" Logan removed his hands from his face to give Wade a disturbed look, his expression making Wade giggle himself.

"Just making idle conversation. Oof. Not only big, but heavy too," he held one foot up under the heel in his palm as he took in the weight before setting it back down to firmly squeeze the heel now, giving Logan a small breather.

"It's the ahaha-adamantium, dumbass. My-heehehehe-whole body is pretty muhuhuch a deadly weapon."

"Is that right? Ah yes, I see it now," Wade smirked as he simultaneously pinched the first and fifth toes and gently tugged on them, watching how his foot immediately cringed and wiggled to escape, "They sure look pretty threatening to me."

"W-Wait! Nohohoo!" Logan snorted and snickered uncontrollably, trying to sink further into the couch cushions with his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection, "Not the dahahahamn tohohohoes!"

His toes flinched away and curled under protectively, but Wade continued pulling them one by one from their hiding spots to stretch them out. It reminded Logan of the times he'd been drunk and the merc decided to be an asshole and tease him by playing 'This Little Piggy' with him.

"No? Oh, but I must. The toes are an important part, and they deserve just as much attention as the rest of the foot, if not more. A lot of tension can be alleviated through them, and you, my fine Wolvie, are very very tense," Wade grinned as he attempted to massage the stem of one stretched out toe, receiving a dirty guffaw as the foot immediately twisted out of his hold.

"GWAHaha! Fuhuck off my toes!"

"Hey, I'm just trying things. But fine, no more toes. I'm absolutely positive that you're really going to love this next one though," he went to his other foot, grasping both sides with his thumbs on the soles and starting at the ball of the foot he squeezed one side at a time back and forth in a see-saw type motion as he worked his way down the foot.

"Sh-Shit! Ahahaheeheehee! No waahaay thahahaaat's a real mahahahaha-massahahahahage tehehechnique!" Logan squeaked out through his laughter that had progressively become impossible to hold back.

"Of course it is. I'm purely a professional and I don't appreciate your ignorant accusations," Wade worked his thumbs more aggressively down the arch, knowing that at this point no matter what he did it was all just relentlessly tickling his friend now.

Logan was practically in a full-blown giggle fit that showed no signs of slowing down, all the while trying his hardest to remain cooperative and allow the unbearable fondling of his ticklish feet.

Wade sighed with a contented smile as he watched his roommate crumble to pieces from what was supposed to be a relaxing massage. At least Logan was undoubtedly no longer thinking about the move from their old apartment, which had been Wade's goal of this whole thing.

His work here was pretty much done, but there was one last thing he needed to do to make it all complete.

"Hehe, alright you win. I guess you really are too ticklish for a foot massage. Spoiler alert, I already knew that. Welp, if you can't beat 'em....," Wade shrugged as he smoothly wrapped up Logan's ankles securely in his arm and started scratching playfully into his soles. 

Logan had been trying so so hard just to bear the feelings of the massage that it took his brain a moment to relay that he was genuinely being tickled now. But once it all finally caught up Logan completely let everything go, throwing his head back in a howl of laughter and pulling with all the strength he had to get free.

"Waahahahahahahaa! Ya fuhuhuhucking dihihihick! Fuhuhuhuhuuuuck!!" Logan squirmed back on the couch while tugging ineffectively at his legs trapped in Wade's vice-like grip. He should have known better than to have thought that this whole massage idea wasn't going to end this way.

Actually, he knew damn well. And yet his dumb ass still let it happen.

"We gave it our best shot, Log. I guess foot massages just aren't happening for a guy with your level of sensitivity. Of course, I'd be more than willing to give it another go sometime," Wade teased while his fingers crawled rapidly back and forth across his delicate arches, making the man yelp and struggle more desperately.

"Nnnnever agahahahahain! Let go! Leggoooohohohoohooo! Heheheeheehee! Nohohot thehehehere! I'll-I'll end yohoohoohoohoou!" Logan snorted uncontrollably between hysterical giggles as he found that he felt no malice towards Wade despite how it may have appeared. He practically surrendered himself to his fate and collapsed against the cushions with his head tilted back in mirth.

Wade glanced behind him over his shoulder to see Logan's face and nearly died from how adorable he looked. His eyes were squinted shut with the crow's feet gathered at the outer corners and his nose wrinkled up to match, his lips pulled back into a gaping smile that revealed his enlarged canine teeth, and his cheeks glowing with a crimson blush that stretched up to his ears, down through his neck and to the bit of chest that Wade could see peeking out of his low cut shirt.

If Wade could keep him looking like this forever then he absolutely would. He was literally addicted to the man's laughter and had been over the moon the day he had discovered how ticklish he was. Even though Logan would hurl a slew of threats at him every time he tickled him, he never once followed through with any of it. Which just made it all the more fun for Wade to mercilessly tease him.

"Awww, does wittle Wolvie have ticklish wittle feet? Have I found the mighty Wolverine's Achilles heel?" He emphasized his metaphor by scratching at a particularly sensitive spot he knew of above Logan's heels. Logan instantly arched up off of the couch and tried using one foot to shield the other as Wade just easily switched between tickling whichever foot was exposed.

"Ahahahahaha! Nooo dohohohon't! Fuhuhuhuhuhuck! Waahaahaade stahahahahap! I cahahan't tahahahaaake ihihihit!"

Wade's favorite part. Where Logan's pride and resolve started to fall apart, and the threats begin transitioning into begging.

"Can you imagine what evil out there would pay to know this information? I could retire as the richest mercenary of all time," Wade smirked as he scribbled at his arches again, making Logan wheeze harshly from the intensity of the sensations.

"You'd behehehetter nohohohohot! If-If-hahahahahaa ya knohohohow whahahahat's goohoohoohoood for you!" He struggled to speak clearly as Wade wasn't letting up.

"I'm just teasing, big boy. I'd never let them have the pleasure. You and your ticklish ass are aaaall mine." 

"Okaay! Okaaahahahay fihihihine! Aahahahahaahahaa! Stohohohop ticklin' meheheheheh! C-Cahahahaaan't breeheeheeeathe!" Logan pleaded as Wade simply tsked and shook his head. If he could still form coherent-ish words then he could still breathe, meaning he wasn't completely done yet.

But Wade knew it was about time to wrap this up as he prepared the grand finale.

"A little courtesy goes a long way, you know? Now say pleeeeease....," Wade grinned deviously as he went in for the kill. His fingers squirmed up under Logan's toes to dig into the highly ticklish crevices that he knew would drive him insane and Logan more than delivered on his reaction.

"PLEASEPLEASENOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAA!! PLEEEHEHEEHEEEHAAHAAHAAHAHAHA!!" Logan laughed wildly out of control with his head thrown back and tears creeping from his eyes, clutching at the couch tightly with the strength to rip the cushions clean in half.

Hearing the Wolverine completely lose his shit always gave Wade that little rush of sadistic glee that made him not ever want to stop, but at this point it was bordering on torture now and that was not Wade's intention of this particular session.

"Oh, so he can be polite. Okay okay, since you said please," Wade released his ankles as promised before an evil idea crossed into his mind.

Before either of them knew what he was doing he snatched up one foot and blew a loud raspberry right into the middle of the arch. Logan's mind went completely blank as he had an out-of-body experience and let out an inhuman screech like Wade had never heard him do before.

Though that moment did not last as Logan's other foot immediately slammed hard into Wade's face with a sickening crack to obliterate the cartilage of his nose as Wade let out a scream and dropped the foot to grab onto his face.

"Aaargghh! My nose! My beautiful nose! Dammit! Awww shit, guess it's back to looking like Ryan Reynolds again."

"You.....You fucking....freak....," Logan breathlessly wheezed as he just stared in amazement at the other man, unable to believe that he had taken it that far, "You tryin'....to get killed?"

Wade grabbed firmly onto his nose and pulled it back into position with another loud crack as he yelped in pain.

"I mean did it really call for that harsh of a reaction though? Couldn't have turned the power down just a little on that adamantium stomper?" Wade gestured to the offending foot as Logan caught his breath back.

"Hey asshole, you were warned. Told ya it was dangerous to tickle my feet. You got what ya fuckin' asked for and I'm not one bit sorry," Logan stated firmly as he swung his feet to the floor to sit more naturally on the couch.

"I'll make sure you're sorry later," Wade muttered under his breath, forgetting that Logan was more than capable of clearly hearing below a whisper.

"The fuck does that mean?"

"Aah! That was supposed to be a secret surprise! Damn you and your ears!" Wade reached over and wiggled a finger into Logan's ear as he grunted in annoyance, but still smiled as he shoved him away

"Fuck offa me, Wilson. I've about had my fill of you for one day."

"Really? That's funny because I don't remember being inside of you. But there's still time to change that," Wade grinned as he put his arm around Logan's shoulders, giving him a suggestive squeeze. Logan's brow arched high as he just stared at Wade's stupidly smirking face.

"Save that for your creepy diary of sick fantasies," Logan shook his head as he ended up smiling again before looking around the empty apartment, "Well....that sure as shit wasn't how I expected my last moments in this place to go." 

"And you're totally welcome. I know you're feeling a lot better now, right?"

Logan growled gently in response, but in no way could deny it. He fucking hated that Wade was right. It seemed to always take the weight off of his mind every time Wade tickled him to tears, and he appreciated it more than Wade would ever know. Because he would rather die before ever admitting that out loud.

"How about a thank you? A kiss on the lips will also suffice," Wade puckered up his lips as he leaned in, but was immediately pushed away.

"How about I cut those lips off if ya don't get them away from me?"

"Well, you know that's never going to happen. Especially since my lips and your tummy have an intimate date scheduled for later," Wade teased before frowning down at the bloodstain on his shirt that had dripped from his nose earlier.

"Always bleeding everywhere. You should probably start wearin' red more," Logan smirked at it being his turn to pick on the other man.

"Yeah duh, that's why my uniform is red. Didn't realize it was going to be an issue around friends though," Wade narrowed his eyes at him as Logan unapologetically shrugged his wide shoulders.

"In my defense, it wasn't a reaction I could control. Ain't the first time that happened either, so ya knew the risks."

"True. But I'll still whine about it next time too," Wade was back to grinning as Logan groaned at the implication of there being a "next time". They managed to sit in silence for a few moments before Logan sighed and started moving.

"Well....guess it's that time," he then leaned over to grab his boots and socks from beside the couch and begin putting them back on.

"Yup, we had better head out. I promised Al I'd pick up something to eat on the way back. I could really go for some sushi myself. You feeling that?

"Sure Wade. Sounds great," Logan nodded as he finished lacing his boots before standing up and walking to the door with Wade trailing behind him. As they reached the front door Logan turned to him and shook his head in disbelief.

"It's strange, you know. I've always been chased out of literally every place I've tried to settle into the past several years. Now I'm leaving this one on my own accord."

"You're not in that universe anymore, big guy. And as long as I have anything to do with it, you'll always have a home. I give you my word. And don't worry, this new place will feel just like home before you know it," Wade smiled and grabbed some of the moving boxes from beside the front door before promptly dropping them as he was pulled into a tight hug.

After getting over the surprise, Wade carefully returned the embrace as Logan sighed heavily into Wade's shoulder while he clung to him.

"Thanks Wade. For everything. I know I don't tell you enough how much I appreciate you, but just know I truly mean it," his eyes were a little watery when he finally pulled back, turning Wade's heart to mush as he smiled and gently patted him on the shoulder.

"The pleasure is all mine, believe me. I hope you know everything in my life is now better because of you, but if you didn't well there it is. So don't think this is all one-sided. Now are you ready to go home, buddy? Let's go break in that new couch we just bought. Feel free to interpret that however you would like."

That broke the serious look on his face as Logan chuckled with a shake of his head and took one last look at their old couch in the middle of the room before turning back to Wade with an utterly contented smile.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go home, Wade."

[thecapricunt1616]

Allspice (c.b oneshot)

𝐵𝓁𝓊𝓇𝒷 (𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝐵𝒯𝒞): You were so engrossed in the work, that you hadn’t even realized someone had approached your table until they cleared their throat awkwardly.  Your gaze slowly travels up, seeing a blue apron covering a white shirt, tattooed hands holding- your meal? Your eyes flicker up to his piercing blue ones. “Chilean Sea Bass” he sets it in front of you. You snort a laugh.  “Hm.” You look around before back at him “These people” you motion to the restaurant. “Other patrons. Which meals of theirs did you bring out- Chef?” You accentuate the last word, it was all too uncommon for a chef to personally bring a meal out to a table. 

♡ O.S Inspo: Forever & Always - Fearless (TV) ; "Was I out of line, did I say something way too honest, made you run and hide like a scared little boy?" ♡ Pairing : CarmyxAFAB Reader as little physical description possible | She/Her pronouns used, NO use of Y/N :) ♡ Summary: You have a very successful Culinary Review blog, the social media manager of one of your new hometown restaurants 'The Bear' has been dying to get you out to try their food. But since the EC is a bit of an overzealous competitor, you end up having to go back for round 2- you end up having a delicious dinner, and a free show.

♡ W/C: 4,381

♡ Posted Date: 03/18/24

♡ A/N: FIRST THING: I am HORRIDDDD at writing Claire- I'm much better at writing Carmy cause were alot more similar- so this Claire isn't gonna be CRAZY canon, but I think she got the job done. Anyway- EEEEEP!!! Here is my VERY FIRST ONE SHOT EVER!! Inspired by my amazing, wonderful, PRECIOUS FLOWER @daysofyellowroses that can be found here :) AAAAA!!! My precious Rose I hope you enjoy this, It could ABSOLUTELY have a part 2 if y'all like it. I ended it here cause I'm sooo wordy and I didn't want it to turn in to a multi-chap. fic by mistake...but ofc if y'all want more just tell me and ill get RIGHT TO WORK!!! I really hope this comes off how I saw it in my head. There's no smut/sexy stuff, just mutual pining and flirty teasing, I hope thats ok!! aaa here we goooo!!! Enjoy <3

♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Drinking alcohol (Literally it LOL)

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

Being a Food Critic wasn’t an easy gig, as much as people wanted to believe it’s simply going to famous restaurants, trying their most popular dishes- and giving your opinion, it was much more then that. 

Each and every aspect of the restaurant was under your review, from the second you walked in the door, you were judging everything. From the atmosphere, to the music, to the decor, to the comfortability of the furniture all of it, was to meet your expectations if the owner of the establishment wanted a good review.

Today was finally the day you'd review one of the restaurants that had sent 3 requests for you to feature a review of them on your blog. 

The Bear. Interesting name, you thought.

With the rugged name- you’d assumed a more millennial hipster-New American vibe. But when you’d arrived- you were quite…impressed? That instead of leaning into that all too common aesthetic, it was more of a classy, comfortable vibe. 

They’d not even had bear art, anything of the sort. It was pure comfort, mixed with subtle class. The kind that spoke to the cost of the dishes- but wasn’t in your face obnoxious. The only ‘Bear’ was the little golden bear embossed into the leather menu you’d been handed when seated at the table. 

The way you did your reviews was…a tad unusual - some chefs in the industry called it ‘unfair’ but you called it…the fairest things could be. Instead of telling them when you’d be swinging by for a review since where’s the fun in that you’d call, make a reservation under some random name, and they’d know you’d accepted their offer when the review had been posted on your blog. 

It felt most honest and fair because you were one of the most renowned food critics in the country right now. If they knew you were coming- any EC with a brain would spend the night before your arrival, prepping the entire restaurant and staff - assuring they’d be on their best behavior to try and squeeze a higher grade out of you.

 But you were just a reader once upon a time, years ago- when you realized in culinary school that the making of the art didn’t interest you, it was the observing. Food wasn’t just about taste, but rather the whole experience. And if every famous food critic you’d taken interest in back in the day- never got a true experience due to their notability? You’d never have gotten into this field. So, you were most keen on keeping things fair. 

A woman with mousey brown hair comes up to your table, dressed in the typical waitress slacks and black button up shirt. “Hello! Welcome to The Bear. My name is Sam, have you dined with us before?” she asks. 

You sit up in your chair, peeling your eyes from the menu. You give her a small kind smile “I haven’t” you replied, urging her to continue her script. 

“Well welcome in, we're so happy you chose to spend your evening with us. So for our menu” she opens it in front of you. “Here” she points “are our wine options, fabulous selection this month. Then we have draft beers right next to it. On the following page” she points “all of our craft cocktails, then this,” she points in the bottom corner. 

“Our house cocktail - Just called The Bear. It’s wonderful, if you like old fashions you’ll love this - made with Bearface Triple Oak Whiskey.” She said and you nod. 

 “That please. That’s what I’ll start with” you said and she nodded. 

“I’ll get that right in. But quickly, just so you’re aware” she flipped the page and pointed. 

“These - are the dishes of the month. Each crafted by one of our two head chefs, they change monthly so if something calls to you I recommend you try- because it won’t be back” she said. You raised your eyebrows a bit in surprise and nod. 

“Thank you” you said and she gives a nod before heading off to the bar to put in your drink order before heading off to tend to other tables in your section. 

Having an alternating menu intrigued you, for such a high end establishment- one with a Michelin star at that- implementing such a menu would consistently have their star at risk. One dish, one app, one drink- that was not up to par and it would be revoked. You guessed the owners of this place liked living on the edge, as if being in this industry wasn’t already being constantly on edge. 

You gaze over the menu, the Chilean Seabass sounded like a fair assessment. Seafood was quite difficult to get right, especially in the springtime before peak season, and you’d be able to judge the consistency of the chopping and such because there was a fresh tomato corn salad that came with it. That was your rule when you came to judge restaurants, one main course, and one dessert.  

You’d felt like the main courses were the true stars of the show anyhow, and it would be unfair to muck up your palate with an app that was usually something easy to get right (since they were usually fried, covered in cheese, or some kind of carb). And the dessert usually showed the restaurant's creativity, which you loved to see, so 2 dishes was your max. 

The waitress returns with the cocktail, setting it down with a napkin under it. “Here you are, now- have you decided on a starter?” She questioned and you shook your head. 

“Straight to the good stuff, I’d like the Chilean Sea Bass please. And for dessert,” you flick the page and your eyes settle on the words savory cannoli - hmm, imaginative indeed. “And uh- The Michael Cannoli?” You said, shutting the menu and handing it to her. 

She nods with a smile, jotting down the order into her notepad before taking the menu and holding it to her chest. “That will be out soon as possible. Enjoy your drink” she said and headed back to the kitchen. 

You sit back sipping the cocktail and humming. She was right, much like an old fashioned, but floral notes. Almost…chamomile? Yes! That was it. Very interesting.

You slipped your iPad out of your bag, opening up your journaling app and grabbing the pencil out of the little sleeve. You quickly snapped a picture with your phone of the drink, airdropping it to yourself and adding it into the entry and writing;

‘To start; ‘The Bear’ house cocktail- initial thoughts ; not too sweet, strong (but not overpowering), chamomile? Some kind of herbal tea flower’ 

You take another sip, letting the flavors sit on your tongue a moment before swallowing. “Mmm!” You hum to yourself, finally realizing where the herby taste beneath the chamomile was coming from that gave it that oaky piney taste. 

‘Angostura bitters- will confirm!!’ You wrote just as someone approaches your table. You look up to see a man, short brown hair, stubble. He was smiling, holding a plate. 

“Hello! Here we have Arancini with our house-made pesto, courtesy of Executive Chef Carmen” he placed the dish in front of you next to your iPad. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, looking up at him, scarcel confused. 

“Wrong table” you murmured, thumbing the dish back in his direction lightly. He cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“Nope- ah, he- he said this table.” He replied. It did smell fantastic, and any other day you’d never deny delicious, deep fried balls of risotto dipped in smooth, decedent pesto- but you’re working right now and it’s not fair. 

“Well, you can tell him” you lifted the dish, offering it back. “I have a system. And I’m unsure how he realized that I’m coming here, tonight, but I dislike cheaters. And he should know if he’s read my blog- I don’t muck up my palate with grease before I try the main course.” The plate was so close to him now it was nearly digging into his chest.

He nodded quickly, taking the plate without another word and briskly walking back to the kitchen. You sat back in your seat with a slight scoff. 

He thinks he can win you over just like that? How did he even know you would be here?

You picked up your pencil once again, adding a note. 

For the chef; Arancini smelt delicious. Didn’t order it, so I didn’t taste it . Presentation wise; 7/10. Pesto looked like it was spooned in the dish a tad bit messy to me. 

You smiled to yourself, you knew he’d read the final review once it was posted. And since he wanted to be a little cheater and get a overall higher score since he was trying to weasel you into trying extra dishes- you’d kick his ego down a few extra pegs for fun. 

You sat, nursing your drink, adding extra little notes here and there, as well as editing a blog post about Ghost Kitchens you’d been working on and how they were ruining the mobile order industry on the side. You were so engrossed in the work, that you hadn’t even realized someone had approached your table until they cleared their throat awkwardly. 

Your gaze slowly travels up, seeing a blue apron covering a white shirt, tattooed hands holding- your meal? Your eyes flicker up to his piercing blue ones. “Chilean Sea Bass” he sets it in front of you. You snort a laugh. 

“Hm.” You look around before back at him “These people” you motion to the restaurant. “Other patrons. Which meals of theirs did you bring out- Chef?” You accentuate the last word, it was all too uncommon for a chef to personally bring a meal out to a table. 

You swore even in the ambient lighting, his cheeks flushed slightly. “You- uh- you declined, my Arancini. Why?” He asked, holding his hands behind his back, the position making his already toned and tattooed arms appear more muscular. It makes him all the more impressive he has all these tattoos and still made it in this industry. I can only imagine the shit he got for them. 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his boldness. “Because that’s Cheating. Mr.Berzatto. I’d assume you know my work well. Considering you know what I look like, so- why try to cheat? You know how I feel about appetizers. It’s a scapegoat.” You shrugged, locking your iPad when you realized he’d been peeking at the notes. 

“Messy” his eyes narrow. He scoffs a bit, alluding to the note you’d written a short while prior “Messy?” He asks again, you laugh a bit.  

“Mmhmm! Oh, was it you chef? Wow…I mean- now that I think about it” you shook your head, now just messing with him since you see how much he was dying to impress you. “I could’ve sworn- the pesto it just..was too loose. Overblended maybe? That’s why it was impossible to plate without making a mess.” You shrugged, cutting up your fish carefully and spreading the vegetables with your knife to observe the cohesivity of the cuts. 

He scoffs, “too- too loose?! W-y’know what. No. No. It- you’re gonna try it.” He demands and you look up at him, nearly laughing at the seriousness of his tone. 

“That depends. Bring me a pesto worth trying and I’ll think about it. Now” you wave him off casually “I can’t work with the chef over my shoulder. So- Shoo chef don’t bother me” you teased and he shook his head. 

“Game on.” He muttered, heading back to the kitchen.  

You smiled to yourself, the Arancini absolutely isn’t going into the review. But you’ll humor his ego by trying it.

You cut the fish thoroughly, checking the texture and the evenness of the seasonings slathered on the skin, writing little notes as you go along. The cuts of the vegetables were pristine. Nearly perfect. The only misshapen pieces were clearly cosmetic defects of the vegetable. The chef that cut these was immaculate with a knife. 

When you took your first bite, you nearly moaned. The fish was buttery, the skin was crispy, slightly spicy, tangy, the flesh melted in your mouth. The risotto was so cheesy and buttery and wonderful. You could eat this meal every night for the rest of your life and never get sick of it. It was the best Sea bass you’d ever tasted. 

You opened your iPad again, jotting down notes about the flavors, the mouth feel, all the usual points you hit in your review. 

This meal is a 9.2 out of 10. 

You write at the bottom. Very fair score, you never had rated something as a 10. Something being a 10 would be- you don’t even know what it would be. But it would be what the score says, perfection. And while this dish was wonderful, and very very good- it was not perfect. At least to your heavily trained palate. 

You finished what you wanted out of the meal, pushing the plate to the side and not soon after, Carmen was back at your table. He placed the plate in front of you, 3 perfectly circular Arancini discs were placed equal distance on the plate, and truly beautiful pesto, sat in the dish alongside it. It frankly was immaculately plated. 

“Unbroken pesto. Sorry again, about the last one.” He said, watching you carefully. You hum as you grab your fork, splitting one of the discs and digging out some of the risotto. 

“Could be firmer.” You said, eyes flicking to his. He nods, clearing his throat a bit. 

“It’s not- uh- it’s” 

“Fresh” you finished for him, raising your brows and he nods. “So- since you’re frying it. You cook it for about..a minute- maybe forty seconds less than you usually would.” You said, daintily taking the bite off your fork. 

“Heard..” he nodded, waiting for your reaction. You hummed a bit. 

“Great balance of parm and butter though. I’ll give you that. Neither overpowers the other, that’s hard to do considering the notes” you added, cutting up the crust and tasting it. 

“Mm-“ you scrunch your nose and his face visibly drops. “Mm-mm…no- not peanut oil…why would you do that? It totally overpowers the breadcrumb with this like…cheapy taste. I’d say it would be way better if you fried it in sunflower oil” you added, digging out more of the risotto and dipping it in the pesto before having a bite and humming. 

“This though” you point at the little dish of green sauce with your fork. “This is great.” You add and he nods. 

“Ok-yeah…ok…” he nods, rubbing his hand over his chin. “Thank y’for trying it.” He said and you nod. 

“I’ll be back for a fair assessment. I think I’ll pass on the cannoli tonight, and just get the bill. Thank you” you slipped your pencil in the case before putting your iPad in your bag and holding your hands on the table in front of you. 

“Y-y’re coming back” he said, sounding slightly surprised. 

You shrugged “well- you clearly want a full review based on your behavior tonight, Chef. So I’ll humor you. I won’t tell you when of course, so just pray that it’s a day like today-“ you paused, looking around. “Where things seem to be running…alright.” You sat back in your chair casually with a small smile. 

“I look forward to your review.” He gave a nod and headed back to the kitchen. 

It was 3 weeks before you’d decided to return back to The Bear spring had quickly turned to early summer, and you thought you’d given enough time for your little conversation with the head chef to slip his mind. 

It was 9:20, 40 minutes before closing. You did promise to come back at a random time, and no time is more random then a Friday night less than an hour before the kitchen closed. 

You pulled open the door, stepped in and headed up to the host stand where the same man that originally offered you the Arancini stood. “The picky critic returns.” He said, tapping his pen against the reservation book absentmindedly. 

“She does” you smiled a bit. 

“Well lucky f’you cousin said you get a table any time, right this way” he leads you to a booth near the back, where you had a perfect view of the restaurant. Much cozier then before, right next to the doors of the kitchen where you could hear the back of house crew buzzing about. 

“Same cocktail as last time?” He asked and you raised your brows in slight surprise as you sit. 

“No waitress?” You asked, getting comfortable and setting your iPad down next to the empty plate. 

“She’ll be over, just figured a friendly offer couldn’t hurt” he said with a small smirk. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “House cocktail please, and thank you. But don’t count on kindness boosting your hospitality score-“ you stop, realizing he never gave you his name. 

“Richie” he said, sticking his hand out to shake. 

“Richie.” You repeat, giving him your firm professional shake. 

“House cocktail comin’ up” he said and headed back to the bar. You mulled over the menu, lemon chicken picatta, that sounded like a perfect dish to judge this time around. 

A few minutes later, Richie returns, setting the glass down in front of you. “Waitress should be by momentarily, enjoy your meal” he said, heading back to the host stand. 

A bit after the waitress came to take your order, the restaurant had begun to die down. You were going to be the last person served tonight it looked like, since in 5 minutes they would stop seating people. 

You added additional notes to your section about the cocktail, getting a better photo of it for your blog when you hear a bit of commotion up front.

You look up, to see a woman with curled brown hair in navy blue scrubs, her hands on her hips, talking with Richie with a frustrated look. There were tears in her eyes, you couldn’t help but tune in to their conversation. 

“Richie, please let me see him- he- he hasn’t said anything and I…I just need to hear him say it to my face. Please!” She begs, tears were streaming down her face now. 

Richie looks around nervously, tugging her to the side so they weren’t standing right in front of the host stand. You lean over just a bit- not so much it would be noticeable, but enough your nosy ears could continue to pick up what was being said.

“Claire. You shouldn’t be here…I’m sorry- he told me-he said that..that you can’t come here anymore. It’s too much and he will apologize when he can find the words. But he can’t. So please before he sees you. Leave” he said softly, attempting to soothingly rub her arm and she jerks away like his touch burned her skin. 

“Fuck you, Richie. Get him. Now. I’m not working on his time anymore. This is my time now. I’ve waited around enough for him. I’m done waiting. Either get him yourself? Or I swear to god I’ll go in that kitchen and embarrass the fucking shit out of him” she hissed. 

Your eyebrows raised, shit. Whoever fucked her over should at least be warned. 

He snorts, clearly amused before stepping back and raising his arms in defeat. “Have at it ClaireBear.” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You think he’s gonna take kindly to you startin’ w’him in his house? Be my guest.” He shrugged, going back over to the host stand. 

And then it clicked. She’s here for Carmen.  

She laughed dryly, sarcastically, like a woman who’d had it. “You think I’m scared? Richie? You think I’m scared of little Carmy who couldn’t even check out a library book by himself? mm?” She goads him, arms crossed, chest heaving with rage. 

His head snaps back to look at her, brows raised in shock. “Kid- I really think you should go calm the fuck down, because Y’re not gonna like the way that this conversation ends w’him- at all.” 

And with that, she shoves open the kitchen door. You couldn’t just sit there and not watch- this was the juiciest drama you’d ever been privy to in person, and this means he’s single. You slightly curse yourself for being so giddy that this means the sexy chef would likely be on the market. 

Your foot catches the door before it closes, leaning against the frame. She storms in, eyes frantically darting over the kitchen. 

“Carmen.” She barks, the entire kitchen stops moving and looks at her, as if they were in shock and awe someone would ever raise their voice to him in such a way. 

He rounds the corner, holding a pan of focaccia dough that he nearly drops at the sight of her. He blinks a few times, squeezing his eyes shut as if she’d disappear when he opened them again. 

“The fuck are you-“ his eyes meet yours, his face going pale quickly, he looked white as a sheet. “Leave.” He orders her, slamming the dough down on the counter. 

“Leave?!” She laughs coldly, “you’re gonna tell me to leave?! You’re a fucking pussy Carmen. A pussy. Y’know- it was charity giving you a chance. Pity work.” She spits and you blink a few times, taken aback by such harsh words. 

Is she serious? She thinks anyone could believe dating a super hot, ripped, talented, chef prodigy - that was charity work in any sense of the word?

He scoffs, “Charity?” He chuckled dryly. “Claire- you begged me to fuckin’ be with you! You-you-y’re a fuckin gnat! Claire! You- all you do is-is fuckin’-” he runs his hand through his hair, his chest heaving in anger, “You dont know me, Claire! Alright? There- And I-I-I don’t want you i’m-i’m sorry-” 

She laughed, shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. “You-” she whispered, her chest shaking with a sob. “You- fucker- I- I gave you a chance…” she whispered and gripped her wrist sadly. “I- I was there for you, Carmen- when no one else could fucking stand you.” she croaked.

“And I never asked for you too- please- just…leave me alone-” he shook his head. “Leave. Please…just-pretend we never happened, it was a mistake, Claire.” he breathed, clearly utterly defeated, and It sounded like he’d told this girl these same words multiple times. 

“M-Mikey would be sick- Carmy, he’d- he’d hate who you’ve become…” she said meekly, and with that- something behind his eyes snapped.

“Claire I’m not DOING THIS I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKIN’ RESTAURANT. WERE OVER. YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME! YOU MEAN NOTHING CLAIRE!” He roars, the veins in his neck popping out, angrily and aggressively pointing to the door. “OUT. get the fuck out. G-get out, b-before I-I-I fuckin- holy fuck” he finds his composure once more, even though his breath was still ragged from his outburst, flicking his hand next to him his entire body trembling with panic. 

She looks to her left and right, she’s not that- 

Your thoughts were quickly proven wrong, when you see she was stupid enough to grab a pan off the stove to whip at him. 

“Aht!” the spanish woman standing a few paces to the right said, quickly grabbing the arm with the pan and twisting it behind her back. “Drop it.” she hissed. 

Carmen looks between the two of them, utterly in shock. “Y-y’were gonna hit me?” He asked her, face twisting in rage. “Fuck you. Fuck you Claire.” He seethed, taking the pan from his employees grasp and tossing it in the sink with a loud clatter. 

“Get the fuck out” you told her, grabbing her from the handle of the woman who’d stopped the assault, shoving her towards the kitchen door and into the front of the restaurant. “Y’re a fuckin crazy bitch.” You laughed dryly, giving her a hard shove for good measure. 

“Oh and who are you” she straightened herself out, pushing her bag up on her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Glad to see that Carmy still needs someone to protect him. I’ll gladly give up that spot.” she said, causing you to laugh. 

“Oh my god- you are pathetic. He just spelt it clear as day sweetheart- you are over. O-v-e-r. He doesn’t want you babe! And no, he doesn’t need my protection- I was enjoying dinner and apparently a show until you went batshit bitch.” You snip, plopping back down at your booth. 

She scoffed “he doesn’t want anyone. The only thing he wants - is to remain miserable. Good fucking luck, whoever you are.” She said before stomping out. 

“Yo she was really gonna throw somethin?” Richie asked as he walked over. Thankfully, it was just you, him, and the bartender in the front of the restaurant.

You nod “thankfully she didn’t realize I was there- Carmen would have had a nasty burn, and a concussion.” You said, taking a large sip of your drink. 

Carmen comes out, eyes meeting yours immediately. “Fuck- I- don’t worry y’re meal is comped and don’t…don’t worry about a review, i’m sorry- I-I guess it wasn't in the cards f’r us to be featured on y’r blog... I’m really so sorry… Shes- ah..” he rubs his arm nervously, trying to find the words. 

“A woman scorned” You teased, and he snorts a laugh, nodding a bit.

“Hell hath no fury, right?” He joked, sighing a bit. “It’s uh…it’s my fault I guess…I uh- I should’ve dealt with that…I've been putting it off” he said and you nod a bit.

“You off the clock?” you looked at your phone for the time, 10:07. 

“Shit- fuck- sorry- I’m so sorry- give me like- I was making y’r food…and then-” you shook your head, stopping him.

“No- No…I was uh-Asking to see if you maybe wanted to..have a drink with me? Not-not like…professionally…” you shrugged, stirring your half full cocktail with the bar straw that floated in it. 

“Sure- uh…sure- I’d like that lemme..lemme go change, i’ll be right out” he nodded, heading back into the kitchen.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

office hours

words: 1.4k

warnings: maybe inappropriate workplace relationship lol

“sorry for the interruption, mr. cameron, i need your signature on this.” 

rafe groans, suddenly jolted out of his groove. he holds a hand out, and his employee drops the stack into his hand. rafe thumbs it over quickly, it’s just an expected agreement for a merger, already signed by his company’s lawyer, so he scrawls his name on the line and shoves the paper away, turning back to his computer.

“nelson, wait.” rafe calls right before he can leave the office. the man turns around nervously. it’s no secret that rafe is a tough boss to work for. he can snap over little mistakes, because he wants everything to be absolutely perfect, but if you keep your head down and do solid work, you can rack in a lot of money.

“no interruptions unless it’s an emergency.” rafe says, and nelson nods, knowing it’s now on him to make sure nobody disturbs the bossman, otherwise it’ll not just be the interrupters head, but his as well.

rafe turns back to his email, finishing typing it and not even bothering to read it over before hitting send. he looks waywardly at the stack of papers that’s his next assignment. it’s the end of the financial year, so everyone has been extra busy.

rafe opens the first binder, quickly going over just the bits he needs to. he works quickly through the second and is onto the third when his concentration breaks by a commotion outside of the only semi sound proof glass walls of his imposing office.

rafe waits for it to die down, but it doesn’t. with a sigh, he gets up out of his chair, giving a glare to the ‘ceo’ nameplate on his desk. he loved the power of running a company, but goddamn, did he sometimes hate the work that came with it. he just hopes whatever all the noise is about isn’t petty drama, otherwise there will be firings before it hits 5pm.

“he said not to be disturbed!” rafe hears nelson say as the door swings silently shut behind him.

“unless it’s an emergency, it’d say mckenzie inc pulling out is a fucking emergency!” rafe can’t let this go on any further as more people begin yelling at nelson, unaware that rafe was watching them. “shut the fuck up!”

you could hear a pin drop with how quickly a silence fell over the crowd. “is mckenzie inc pulling out?” it’s still silent, so rafe gives the crowd a general glare.

“it’s only a rumor, sir.” 

“from who?” he asks. rafe doesn’t recognize the name spoken back to him. it’s so goddamn much to keep up with every single other company that they partner with.

“take ten minutes to gather up everything you know and then meet me in the conference room.” rafe knows exactly what he is going to do with those ten minutes as he heads towards the stairwell, heading one floor down. he swears he’s going to tread wear patterns into the carpet with how many times he takes this same path.

he opens the door, unclenching his jaw that he didn’t even realized was clenched in the first place when you look up from your paper with a smile on your face. “hey rafe.”

“hi wifey.” he says, moving around your desk to hug you. you stand so you can put your arms over his shoulders, humming gently in approval at rafe squeezing your body against his.

“it’s only 4:30pm, are you going home early?” you ask him, rubbing your hands gently over his shoulders, knowing how much tension he holds in his body.

“there’s a rumor mckenzie inc is pulling out.” your face falls briefly before you put your happy mask back on, but rafe catches it. “i’m sorry baby. i called a meeting to figure it out, but i don’t know how long it’ll take. you go home if i’m not out by 5, okay?” rafe hates the thought of you leaving the office all alone, his sweet wife having to drive his obnoxious (your words, not his) sports car back to your house, making dinner all alone as rafe is stuck in a boardroom.

“it’s okay, i can wait for you.” you say, kissing rafes jaw gently as he nuzzles his nose into you. it’s definitely inappropriate, being married to your boss, but you were an accountant at this company before rafe took over as ceo, so no one really bats an eye. in fact, they’ve gotten used to politely hinting when they need help swaying your husband or calming him down.

“no, baby, i want you to go home.” rafe says, glancing at the clock.

“mmm, maybe.” you say, and rafe knows there’s no point in arguing with you when he has to get back up to the top floor. “hey.” you cup rafes cheek, seeing all that stress in his eyes. “i love you.”

rafe smiles gently, leaning down to peck your lips. “i love you too.” 

rafe hates having to leave, and briefly considers asking you to just come sit at the table up there, but he knows whenever you’re in the same room he can’t properly focus, always attuned to your needs, if your happy, if anyone is bugging you, if there’s a way for him to get his hands on you.

he steps into the boardroom and the chatter dies down. rafe sits down at the end of the table, looking pointedly at the poor soul who happened to sit closest to him. 

“there’s a possibly leaked report that mckenzie inc is pulling out of our deal, but i heard from my source that they just want to renegotiate their contract-” shouts of disagreement arise. rafe pinches his nose between his fingers. this will be a long night.

--

they’re not even done, but rafe knows if he spends literally another second with these people that he’s going to end up decking one of them in the face, so rafe calls for a half hour recess for dinner. he glances at his watch as he heads down the stairs. 6:30pm, an hour and a half after he’s hoping you left.

he’s hopeful when he notices your ceiling light turned off, but as he gets closer to your office he notices that you’re curled up in your office chair, peaceful look on your sleeping face illuminated only by the blue light of your computer screen that remains on.

rafe melts right on the spot, seeing you, his perfect little wife, fallen asleep at your desk because you don’t want to leave him.

he opens and closes the door gently, kneeling on the ground next to your chair. he places a hand gently over your head, rubbing your hair as softly as he can so you don’t startle awake. “hey, baby.” he whispers. 

you stir at his sweet voice, eyes fluttering until you place where you are. “mmm, how long did i sleep?” you ask.

“it’s 6:30 now. you should have gone home, are you hungry?” 

“‘m okay.” you say, sliding your knees down from the curled position in a big stretch. you grab your phone, checking your texts with a smile. rafe feels a brief flare of intense jealousy roll through him as he angrily thinks who the fuck is texting you and more importantly whothefuckistextingyouthatsmakingyouSMILE. but you turn your phone to show him and his thoughts are completely changed.

you: there’s a rumor that mckenzie inc is pulling out of their deal with us. can you tell me anything?

henrietta (mckenzie inc ceo wife): no clue where that rumor got started. just checked with richard and it’s not true. get you and rafe home!

you: thank you! saved us hours of headache. by the way, shall i drop off some strudels tomorrow? i got…

rafe stops reading the text message thread and looks up at you in awe. you giggle and drop your phone onto your desk, letting rafe pull you into a kiss. “you’re incredible.” he mumbles against your lips before capturing them again “amazing… genius… beautiful.”

you eventually have to pull away from kissing rafe. “you should go tell the guys and gals that it’s all good and they can head home.”

“they’ll figure it out.” rafe says, grabbing your bag and shoving your personal items in it. you look at him confused before he slings it over his shoulder, bending down to pick you up bridal style. “i’ve got to take you home right now before i have to explain to them what all the screaming and moaning they heard was.”

[thefiery-phoenix]

Read recently your post about yandere Jichang (why did he have to die 😭) so can you also do yandere Jihan Kwak ?

Sure :) And I know, I get down in the dumps every time I think about Jichang's death, WHY is the world so cruel? 😭

YANDERE KWAK JI-HAN (JIHAN KWAK) HEADCANONS

I simp for him too lol and god DAMN...I'll die from a nosebleed at some point because of how good looking so many of the Lookism characters look and cue my unholy screeching and psychotic giggling

You were visiting your grandparents for the summer vacation as you got down the bus and you sighed as you shouldered your backpack. You were too used to city life, you weren't sure how you'd fare in a quiet countryside but you did have to admit it looked peaceful. You pulled out your phone from your pocket to contact your grandparents when you realized the universe was playing a colossal joke on you since your phone battery was dead you grumbled under your breath. It's been a while since you'd visited your grandparents so you couldn't remember how their house looked like so you decided to ask someone along the way, hoping they'd know the location to their house. You were unaware of a certain pair of calculating eyes watching your every movement, surveying your features till you were approached by a guy who looked almost similar to your age and had a friendly polite smile on his face. "You seem to be lost there sweetheart...anything I can help you with?" he asked you politely as you smiled and explained your situation to him. The guy introduced himself as Jihan Kwak as the two of you headed to your grandparents house

As he kept talking to you, he couldn't help but feel more...attracted and drawn to you. You were a city dweller and yet you weren't so obnoxious and loud or had an ego complex, you had a genuine and nice personality. He kept looking at you from the corner of his eye, his cheeks heating slightly every time he saw you smile and talk about something you liked like your favorite book or your favorite movie and such, mentally noting down whatever you were telling him for future purposes when he'd meet you next time. Of course he'd be meeting you next time, and plenty more times after your first encounter, you've managed to make him intrigued and charmed him with your personality, you remind him of a fragile little doll to be honest, his savior and protector complex would get activated whenever he sees you, you're just too adorable for him, he can't take you seriously sometimes. He wonders how you've managed to survive this long but not to worry, he's here for you now

He'll pop by your grandparent's house every day and he'll have a good impression on them to get more closer to you. He usually wasn't someone who really gave love that much of a thought before he met you, he loved how soft your hands were, how kind and caring you were to those around you, how adorable you looked whenever you had that gleam of passion in your eyes when you spoke about things, how mesmerizing your eyes are and how he feels like he's getting lost in the beauty of your eyes... he loves everything about you. He isn't delusional, he knows his feelings for you are going out of control and he tries to suppress them only for something more darker, sinister and twisted to emerge as a form of love for you

He's aware his feelings for you are unnatural but he just can't help it. He just can't seem to get enough of you. He won't spill his heart out to yet since he doesn't want you to think he's weird but at the same time he doesn't have any qualms of being clingy to you and stalking you wherever you go. You're new to the countryside, you probably wouldn't be aware of the dangers but you don't need to worry, he's there for you to protect you and keep you safe. Of course, it kind of goes without saying, since he's also the brother of Jichang who's an officer, the people around would gladly keep an eye out for you to make sure you don't get yourself into any kind of trouble

His brothers would eventually find out about his immense feelings of love for you after Jichang catches his brother stalking you in the night as he simply glared at his brother which made it a bit awkward for a few seconds till they went back home and Jichang, Jibeom and Jihan sat down for a family discussion where he'll eventually be forced to spill his guts and heart regarding his feelings for you. Of course, they'd be happy for him and they don't really see anything wrong with how twisted his concept of love had become for you and Jichang would do whatever research necessary to find out more information regarding you by pulling a few strings here and there and would get rid of someone posing a threat to yours and Jihan's relationship. He wants his little brother to be happy after all, law be damned, plus they're eager to welcome you into their fold

Jihan likes being affectionate with you, deep down he's slightly insecure you might find someone else better than him which makes him even more clingier to you than usual till he starts developing the fear and paranoia of you leaving him. One day when you told him you'd be going back to your parents house since the summer vacation was over, he just looked at you in complete shock. For a moment he forgot you were on summer vacation and you were just visiting, he'll swallow the bitter lump forming in his throat as he wishes you all the very best and would invite you over for his house for dinner to which you'd agree. Then he'll formulate a plan to ensure you'd stay with him since he just can't afford to lose you, you mean so much to him. He'd feel empty without you and there needs to be someone by your side to take care of you, he's more than willing to be that man for you

Jichang would assist him in procuring some sedative to make you fall asleep after you've finished consuming the food which would make you black out in less than five seconds. Deep down Jihan feels slightly guilty he's slipping sedatives in your food but his fear of losing you overrides his sense of rationality which would compel him to slip the sedatives in your dish while telling himself that it's for your own good and he can't lose you. You're all smiles as you greet his brothers and they're really impressed with your courteous behavior and politeness. Jibeom would nudge Jihan in the chest and smirk at him and whisper what a good choice his brother made as Jihan grows slightly flustered and drinks some water. After you've finished eating your food, before you're about to bade them farewell, you lost your consciousness and you ended up blacking out in Jihan's arms as he carried you to a room and placed a blanket over you and caressed your head lovingly. You woke up after a few hours when the sedatives finally wore off as you looked around, confused as to what was going on when you were supposed to be at your grandparents house, packing for going back to your parent's house in 2 days

Jihan will enter the room and hand you a glass of water as he explains what he did and you'd stare at him in shock. He'd be hurt if you scream or insult him but he understands, he understands how you feel. It's a new concept for you and you can have all the time in the world to adjust, he doesn't mind. If you cry, he'll feel really bad and he feels an ache in his heart from seeing you cry as tears are streaming down your face. He wanted to ensure your happiness all the time, he didn't like seeing you sad so he'd just hold you in a comforting embrace and pat your head gently, telling you how much you mean to him. He isn't unreasonable, he knows you might be mad at him but deep down he'll be hurt and have the expression of a kicked puppy if you ignore him. Nonetheless he'll never raise his voice or hands at you, he can't bring himself to hurt you. That thought wouldn't occur to him even in his worst nightmare. With the kindness and love he's treating you with, you'll end up getting Stockholm Syndrome faster than Zack always screaming for Mira

You actually might have a shot at escaping from him since he does tend to take you out on dates outside to make sure you don't die from boredom from being at home all the time but if you do end up escaping, it'll be Jichang who'll find you and just bring you back to Jihan. Jihan would be worried about you and check you for injuries and then he'd tell you in a very serious tone how he'd never let you attempt something like this again since he loves you too much so now you'll have to earn his trust back before you're allowed to go out. If it's someone trying to take you from him then it's a completely different story. He might be kind and loving to you but his personality is like a snake, cunning and crafty as he analyzes how to get rid of the pest to meddle in between the both of you. Don't forget about his fighting skills, he's learnt from the very best himself and will not hesitate to snap the person's bones like a twig if he has to for your sake and the person would disappear off the face of the planet the next day who may or may not be buried 6 feet under the ground or probably fed to the wild dogs they have, but you don't need to stress your pretty head about that. Just leave all the violence and brutal things to him all right?

His love for you has no bounds which is mixed with possessiveness. Don't even try resisting his affection for you, he'll just hold you tighter to him and cuddle with you. He loves seeing you cooking, having a cute little apron on your frame as he envelopes you into a hug from the back and he kisses the nape of your neck and nuzzles your cheek with his. He truly does love you, just make him happy by being with him please, he'd be crushed if he loses you. Overall, a great yandere to have and he'd seriously be a blessing to have compared to the other messed up characters...

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Heavenly Kind of State of Mind - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley takes you out to thank you for taking care of him when he broke his nose. He didn't expect dinner to turn into something else.

pairing: baseball!Bradley x reader (Angel)

warnings/content: depictions of broken nose, Bradley being a manwh*re, sexual references, fluff, awkward first date.

word count: 2.3k

taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted @sorchathered, @sarahsmi13s, @hangmansgbaby, @djs8891 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue @seitmai @unhinged-bitch @mattyskies

Bradley wasn’t the dating type.

At least, that’s what he told himself on the drive over to the San Diego pier. 

As Bradley crossed the bridge from quiet, serene Coronado into the bustling downtown core, he tapped his hand against the steering wheel, nervously drumming the beat to a classic rock song. He pulled up into a parking space, looking around the parking lot for your obnoxious little car with its pink interior that he’d been thinking about since you took him to get his nose checked out. The break had healed nicely, unable to tell that two weeks prior, his nose had met with the fist of a grown man. Bradley sighed as he realized you weren’t here yet, adjusting his sunglasses in his rearview mirror. 

He didn’t date. 

It wasn’t his thing. 

The awkward small talk. The painful silences. The uncomfortable stage where you waited to see how the other person wanted to proceed, all for it to fall apart in the end anyway. He knew dates were just a stop gap to heartbreak. He was the expert, in fact. In the years since his marriage fell apart, he’d skipped dating all-together, resolving himself to one night stands and quick hookups as a means of bypassing the inevitable heartache he’d be faced with if he’d gone the dating route. 

After his marriage, he didn’t know what he wanted. He’d wanted kids, he thought, but then again, kids meant his career got less focus. Kids meant he’d have one of two choices — retire and become a picture-perfect dad, working a normal career and being the doting husband and father he knew he’d want to be, or, stay playing baseball, continue his dedication to his career, and always feel guilty for not being home, fielding the upset accusations of his wife, telling him he was doing it as an escape, running from his responsibilities. 

Being alone gave him freedom. It gave him the ability to further his career and focus his attention on whatever the fuck he wanted. And he liked it that way. 

However, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop you from occupy every thought that he had over the past two weeks. Being unable to play didn’t help — doctor’s orders had him benched for two weeks until his nose had healed. 

He’d attended practices, worked out at the gym a few extra times for good measure, and even took a guest spot in the commentator booth for a game over the past fourteen days to keep himself busy, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you. 

Every time he thought he was comfortably distracted, focused on something else, his brain would circle back around, coming back to you each and every time.

It was exhausting.

He tried so hard to push it off. Too hard, in fact. As he sat in his Bronco, hands still drumming on the steering wheel as he listened to the radio, now blaring The Beach Boys through his car, he hummed along to the familiar tune, hoping that it would provide him a little reprieve from the all-encompassing thoughts of you. 

Just as he closed his eyes, letting his imagination take him to the beach, walking across the warm sand, cool waves lapping at his feet as he stepped towards the ocean, he heard a gentle tapping on his window. Snapping back to reality, his eyelids fluttered, eyes opening wide as he spotted you gently tapping your knuckles against the window. 

He turned the car off, pulling the keys out of the ignition and stuffing them into his pocket as he hopped out of the driver’s seat. Your warm, friendly smile was enough to make him weak in the knees and he could barely keep himself together when he saw you standing there in that sweet, pretty little sundress you were wearing. He just hoped that his light-washed denim jeans didn’t betray him and give away how tight they were getting.

“Thanks for inviting me out,” you smiled as you looked at Bradley, hand raised to gesture at his healing nose, “Looks like you healed up nicely, Bradshaw.” 

“Not having baseballs flying at my face for the last two weeks might have helped. Stayed out of bars too, wasn’t about to risk having another drunken baseball fan taking swings at me.”

“You just didn’t want to lose another bar fight, did you?” you teased, pursing your lips as you looked around at the pier. 

“There’s like four different restaurants here, I figured I’d let you take your pick. Reservations aren’t an issue,” Bradley explained calmly, giving his head a gentle nod as he surveyed the parking lot. 

“Wow, you have that much influence here? Aren’t they used to pro-athletes?”

“That’s not what I meant. I made reservations at all four. Just in case.”

“Wow, never had you pegged as a people pleaser, Bradley. I’m impressed.”

“I’m not,” he replied stubbornly, shaking his head. “I just didn’t want to pick something and find out you were deathly allergic to seafood or something. Killing you with a food allergy didn’t seem like an appropriate way to thank you for helping me the other night.”

“You’re right, unexpectedly poisoning me doesn’t sound like a good thank you. You’re in luck though, no food allergies.”

Bradley let out a sigh and looked around again, looking more vulnerable than ever. He looked uncomfortable, nervous even, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Steak?” You hummed, raising an eyebrow as you tried to break any tension between you. “I could go for steak.”

“Steak works,” he grumbled, nodding his head. He leaned in towards you, his lips just milimeters from your ear as he whispered softly, trying to be as quiet as possible before being spotted. 

“Photographers are over there, they’re gonna want to snap a few photos of us. Are you ok with that? We can either play it up or downplay it. Up to you. I can always walk in ahead of you if you don’t want the attention.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he whispered into your ear, the hairs on the back of your neck standing at full attention. Craning your neck to look above his shoulder, you spotted a white Escalade with a short, weasel of a man sitting in the front seat, camera poised and ready to capture a shot. Your eyes flitted back to Bradley as you nodded your head. 

“Give them a show,” you nodded, granting him permission to play up the dinner, “Maybe it’ll help stop people from watching you for a reaction now that your ex’s upcoming nuptials are plastered over every glossy magazine there is. I can’t even read Cosmo without seeing her—” 

Bradley grumbled something at you, interrupting your ramble. He took you by the hand and nodded his head, looking back over his shoulder towards the camera before his gaze landed on you once again. Before a word was spoken between the two of you, Bradley’s large hand was on the small of your back, pulling your body in against his. Lips pressed together, you felt your body melt back into his hand. 

Although you’d never admit it to his face, you’d thought about kissing Bradley Bradshaw’s lips over and over and over again since you met him two weeks ago. You’d thought a lot about Bradley, more than you’d care to admit. You thought about those large hands of his, picturing his rough, calloused palms cupping at your tits, feeling their weight as he gently squeezed at them. You’d pictured his lips on your skin, soft and slow, pressing hot kisses over every inch of exposed flesh, unable to keep his hands and mouth off of your body. 

Bradley Bradshaw had you tangled up in a crush that rivalled the ones you’d held in high school. And weirdly — you found yourself refusing to give it up. Since that night you dropped him off to get his nose examined, bloodied and battered and vulnerable in the passenger seat of your car - you’d been completely head over heels for him, whether you liked it or not. 

As Bradley’s calloused hand held yours, enveloping it in his large fingers, his expression softened, lips forming into a gentle smile. The two of you walked hand in hand towards the restaurant, with Bradley giving his name to the hostess as he approached. He gave another glance towards the photographer behind him, furiously snapping photographs from the seat of his car, headlines practically writing themselves in his eyes as he watched Bradley closely.

Bradley didn’t want to admit it, but you agreeing to give the press a little show was helping his career more than anything - appearing to be on a genuine date would help quell the rumours about his long-storied sexual escapades since his highly publicized divorce. 

When his marriage crumbled, he went through a series of bad decisions. His temper was already the stuff of legends in the game, with stories about locker room fights and fines for unsportsmanlike conduct, but those rumours proved true when his life began to fall apart around him. He’d been caught, on more than one occasion, with a pretty blonde in a compromising position with him. Dancing in bars, drunken stumbles in hotel lobbies, walks of shame the following morning. He’d earned the nickname Bradley “Hit-It-And-Quit-It” Bradshaw for crying out loud, and while it wasn’t something he was proud of, it sure wasn’t something he chose to dispute either. 

As Bradley tucked your chair in, he leaned down to whisper in your ear once again, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he spoke. 

“Let me know if this gets uncomfortable for you,” he nodded slowly.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, shivers running up and down your spine. 

Bradley took the seat across from you, smiling politely at the waitress as she took your drink orders. Moments later, his hand wrapped around his beer glass, raising it to his lips as he took a long sip, the frothy head brushing against his mustache as the liquid passed his lips. He watched as you looked out at the pier, eyes gazing at the sunset over the horizon, the sky painted shades of pink and orange. 

“It’s nice view sitting here, isn’t it?” Bradley nodded in agreement as he spoke. “It’s my favourite. I haven’t come in a while though.”

An awkward silence washed over you both. 

The kind of silence that reminded Bradley why he hated dating.

An uncomfortable pause later, Bradley cleared his throat, nodding his head towards you as he forced an uneasy smile. You looked back at him, sensing his discomfort and wanting to smooth the tension as best as you could, you said the only thing that came to mind as a safe topic of discussion.

“Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 

“Hmm? Yeah, yeah,” he nodded casually, sipping his drink. “I’m excited to be back on the roster. Did you hear the excuse they came up with for how I broke my nose? PR said a bar brawl wasn’t a good look, so they said I did it during practice.” He scoffed, laughing softly. 

“Practice? What’s the story they came up with?”

“Mhmm, said I missed a rogue line drive, caught it with my nose instead of my glove.”

You shook your head and laughed, cocking a manicured eyebrow up at Bradley as he spoke. Another awkward pause hung in the air as you took a sip from your wine glass. Your eyes drifted back to Bradley, sensing his nerves.

“Alright, enough of this,” you laughed, shaking your head, “Why do they call you Rooster?”

Bradley’s eyes went wide as he set his drink glass down on the table. His dark brown eyebrows raised in surprise as he looked at you. A strained laugh escaped his parted lips, his dark brown curls moving as he shook his head. 

“It’s not exactly dinner conversation,” he said simply.

“What—you’re joking,” you retorted with an incredulous laugh. “There’s no way.”

“‘Fraid so. Rooster Bradshaw. It’s not because I’m up early for practice every day.”

“It’s because you’ve got a big—”

“Not at dinner,” Bradley warned, shaking his head.

“So, the whole, you know,” you frowned slightly as you thought over how to word your inquiry, your voice dropping down to a whisper, “Bradley-hit-it-and-quit-it-Bradshaw thing, that’s connected to it?”

“Unfortunately,” Bradley grumbled, shaking his head, “It’s not something I’m proud of.”

Another awkward moment passed, the clinging of silverware against a dish was the only sound emitted from the two of you as you sat there. Between bites of steak and sips of wine, the odd question would slip out, basic small talk that no one enjoyed on dates, facts about the two of you that weren’t important to anyone. You had to remind yourself at several points that this was never a date - it was never intended to be. It was a thank-you. A half-hearted gesture of kindness from Bradley in exchange for you not running to the papers about his bar-room brawl and his broken nose. A gesture of thanks for not fuelling the already tainted reputation he had for himself. 

Between the breakdown of Bradley’s marriage, his subesquent outbursts that he was prone to devolve into at any time on and off the field, the heated locker room exchanges that got him traded between teams, and the now infamous, and probably over-dramatized accounts of his sexual conquests, his life was falling apart around him. You keeping his broken nose a secret was the first kind-hearted gesture anyone had made towards him in he didn’t know how long. 

All Bradley knew was, despite the clumsy awkwardness, the silences and pauses, the uncomfortable pressure he was putting on himself despite reminding himself it wasn’t a date. Bradley was left wondering. 

Maybe he wished it was.