#and implied he wanted me to bear his children | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uglypastels · 3 months ago

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omg what about Logan being like the softest with a sensitive/shy reader. Idk in what context like maybe she’s just overwhelmed with life and kinda closed off in terms of voicing what’s wrong and you know he’s usually very stoic but he’s the BIGGEST softy. Totally not projecting btw.

YEsss Logan is such a fucking softie, no matter how hard he'd want to try and hide it. thank you for being my first request for this fandom i hope i can do it some justice 🫶 and pleeease, we love to project here so please, go right ahead.

warnings: darkness. anxiety. loneliness. alcohol. fem!reader. reader's mutation specified. mentions of past [implied toxic] relationship. so some angst but also bunch of fluff at the end. also please don't come for me if he's a bit out of character. this is my first time writing Logan so it will be trial and error.

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

It was the dead of the night. Quite literally. All around you was so quiet and dark that the rest of the world might as well have ceased to exist. All you heard was the floorboards creaking under your footsteps as slivers of moonlight illuminated your path through the corridors of the mansion. It was the rare instance that you felt at peace.

Yes, you knew almost as soon as you stepped inside the large building and saw all these mutants walking around happily and carelessly that you had found a true safe haven, and yet, months later, you still had not found your bearings. It did not help that you were not exactly in the age bracket of most of the residents here. Having the mansion double as a school meant most of the mutants were in that school-going age range, and while they were lovely (for the most part), you had no desire to befriend children. Then, those who you felt more drawn to socially, like Storm or Jean, were all apart of that special ops team, which always left them busy, if not completely absent, while away on missions.

Thus, most of your days went by in solitude. Something you had gotten used to throughout your life. Over the years it had become natural for you to simply disappear into your surroundings. Wether you wanted to or not, people simply overlooked you. In hindsight, it explained your mutation perfectly… or was that just an aftereffect of it? You had always wondered if it was one’s personality that influenced the mutation or the other way around.

Either way, for you, it all merged into one dark abyss.

By now, you had gotten a hang of all the floor plans of the giant building, especially the route between your room and the kitchens.

You hadn’t checked the clock when you got out of bed, but it must have been around 2 am, if not later. You didn’t expect anyone to be up at this ungodly hour. Especially not walking out of the dark kitchen exactly as you were coming through the threshold. The two of you bump, chest to chest, and the contact immediately made you burst out in a high-pitched scream. From the other side of the impact, you heard a muffled grunt and the sound of a blade being pulled. That was enough for your flight or fight mode to activate. You almost choked on the deep breath you took. The blade swung in your direction, but it only slashed the air where you once stood.

‘Who’s there?’ it was a male voice. Hard and deep, almost wild. In your other form, your eyes adapted much better to the dark, and so you could see him looking around himself wildly. You counted the sharp appendages in his hands— no, they were coming out of his arms— six long claw-like blades ready to impale the very first thing that’d move.

There was no doubt about it that this must have been the infamous Logan everyone around the mansion talked about. From what you had heard, he had been away for almost a year on some top-secret assignment for the Professor, but now he had apparently returned.

And what a comeback he has made, nearly stabbing you in the hallway.

‘Who’s there?’ he repeated his question louder, still looking around.

‘Just me.’ Your voice came out as the exact opposite of his, soft and weak, and you immediately regretted your words. Just me, as if he was supposed to know what that meant.

But it must have done the trick, as Logan retracted his claws. His shoulders visibly slacked at the lack of imminent danger.

‘Well, Me, you can come out of hiding. I’m not gonna hurt ya,’ he grumbled, ‘let me just turn the light on–’

‘Wait!’ You squeezed your eyes shut and let the cool air of the night brush over your bare arms. When you opened them again, all you could see was Logan’s large frame standing inside the kitchen, most likely hovering over the light switch, surprised at your sudden call.

‘Sorry, you can uhm– turn the lights on now.’ And like that, with a quiet flick, the kitchen illuminated with a soft orange glow.

Logan’s eyes were immediately on you, scanning you up and down for any sign of recognition, but you already knew there would be none. Even if he had ever seen you before, there never was.

‘Do I know you?’ he cocked his head with the question, and all you could do was shake your head.

‘I doubt it.’ No one knew you, but that didn’t feel like a smart response.

‘Care to introduce yourself, Bub?’ He leaned against the wall with the light switch, and maybe it was his overall greatness as he practically towered over you, but you felt a rush of heat fall over your face as he looked down at you in expectance. Awkwardly, you pushed out the sounds that formed your name, with a bonus of an extended hand for him to shake.

‘And you must be Logan, right?’

He confirmed your suspicion with a grunt as he took your hand, squeezed firmly, but not painfully, and shook it once. Then, silence fell between you.

Two strangers who met in a complete, nearly fatal accident. It was only to be expected you would have nothing to say to one another. But you were, after all both awake this late in the night, and that was enough to compel you to talk.

‘Couldn’t sleep?’

‘Just got back, actually.’ His eyes glanced to your side and that is when you noticed the duffel bag that lay in the corridor. Then, only when you looked back at him did you take in what he was wearing. Not the expected gym shorts or sweatpants with an old shirt. Instead, Logan was dressed in a black button-up under a dark motorcycle jacket. With that, he had a boot cut-jeans and the boots to match. From the tiny dark dotted pattern on his shoulders and the light pitter-pattering that was occurring outside, it was visible he had just come from out of the rain.

Immediately, a parade of questions entered your mind. Where had he been? Why did he come back so late? What was he doing in the kitchen? And so much more, though none of it would leave your mouth as you doubted he would talk to you about his secret mission.

‘You alright?’ His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, and you realised how you must have looked. Staring up at him with wide eyes, not saying a single thing. Another heat flare hit your cheeks.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

He cocked his head in an examinatory fashion. The disbelief evident in his eyes.

‘You’re new here, aren’t you?’

‘Relatively,’ you shrugged. ‘Got here a few months ago.’

‘Parents kicked you out?’ He assumed the most common backstory that comes with the residents of the mansion.

‘Not exactly,’ you kept your response short. After all, you could hardly tell a stranger you just met that your boyfriend had kicked you out of your shared apartment when he found out about your genetic abnormality. You had never been sure how he would have reacted, but the events that unfolded were even beyond your imagination. But the past was the past, and you didn’t want to dwell on it. The important part was that not a day after this conversation, you were crying in your car with nowhere to go. It was by chance that weeks after your break-up/eviction, you stumbled into some other mutants who told you about the Professor. You weren’t too sure about going to seek shelter at a school of all places, but in reality, the Academy was much more than that. Though it did give you the perfect opportunity to safely train your abilities.

That and so much more was what went through your head, but you didn’t say any of that to Logan. Why would you? He didn’t know you. He didn’t care about your problems, and you didn’t blame him for it.

On the contrary, you appreciated that he didn’t press you for more details. When you answered the way you did, he simply nodded in understanding and made his way over to the fridge. The blue glow illuminated his tense features. Strange, for a man who had been a year on the go on some secret spy adventure, you would have expected him to return at least a bit beaten up. But besides maybe some signs of a bad sleep schedule, no form of strain was visible on his face.

‘You want something?’ he looked over at you, making you realise you had been, in fact, staring and not very subtly either.

‘I’m good, thanks.’

‘Suit yourself,’ he went back to inspecting the contents of the fridge before sighing with disappointment. ‘They still don’t have anything stronger around here?’

‘Oh, if you’re looking for beer–’ you walked over to a cabinet at the other end of the kitchen. You tapped a corner, and a small code pad appeared. You tapped in the code, and the cabinet opened to reveal a fully stocked mini-bar. ‘Scott had it installed over the summer,’ you explained when you saw Logan’s confused expression.

‘Explains the babyproofing.’ He walked over, and you handed him a cool bottle of beer.

‘Well, it is a school after all.’ You held in a smile as the thought occurred to you that the kids might not have been the only ones who weren’t supposed to know about the secret compartment. The rivalry between Cyclops and the Wolverine was known all too well around the whole campus, even for newcomers such as yourself.

Logan smirked, taking his beer. You were about to offer a bottle opener, but he hit the neck of the bottle against the edge of the table and with a pop and a clink, the cap came right off.

‘Here,’ he exchanged your bottles, giving you the open one. You watched him repeat his actions with the second drink. Your eyes were still on him as he chugged down half of the beer in one go. He probably could have downed the whole thing if it wasn’t for his look down at you, most likely noticing your entranced look.

‘That staring a part of your powers, too, then?’ he commented, and the acknowledgement immediately made you turn your head in the direction of the window.

‘Sorry. I just— I tend to do that, I guess.’ You wrinkled your nose. Being on your own around so many people, you had gotten used to people watching, observing them from a distance like a show on TV that you kept on for the background noise.

‘What do you do, anyway?’ He asked bluntly, ‘I thought I had done you in good back there.’

‘You would have,’ you chuckled, remembering just how close his claws had come into contact with you. ‘It’s hard to explain. I just kind of—’ You noticed the shadow that fell over the floor from the table and lightly grazed it with the tip of your toe. With a deep breath, the world in front of you changed. Except the exact opposite was the truth. ‘Disappear.’ You finished the sentence, punctuated by your new state.

Logan’s eyes widened as you disappeared in front of his eyes. Where the shock came from, he couldn’t explain. He had encountered these sorts of mutants before. But this felt different than regular invisibility or teleportation. With his heightened senses, he could always detect those sorts of hijinks. No one ever disappeared to him. But you— as soon as you had faded away, it was as if you had completely fallen off the face of the earth. Not a single trace of you lingered behind. When you spoke, just as you had in the hallway, your voice didn’t seem to be coming from one place. It was all around him, almost like a whisper, a voice inside his own head.

With a blink of an eye, you reappeared before him. Just as you had stood there moments before.

‘There’s not really a name for this, I think; at least no one around here could come up with anything that made sense.’ Not that you had any conversations that made people interested enough to do the research. ‘But from my own understanding, I kind of become one with the shadows.’

‘And what about the light?’ he recalled your yelp when he had tried to turn on the light.

‘I merge with the dark, and so when new light sources interfere… it’s not pretty.’

Logan simply nodded as he took the last swig of his beer.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, you leaning against the counter and he against the large table.

‘You’re doing it again, Bub.’ He smirked, calling out your lost stare.

‘Sorry,’ you hadn’t even realised you were doing it. You had just been looking around the room and may have, perhaps, accidentally lingered a look at his frame for a few seconds. And then you caught sight of his hands. More specifically, his knuckles. There was a faint pink glow on the skin, but besides that, you would never be able to tell that deadly claws could grow out from there. You blinked. ‘Sorry.’ You were doing it again. Quickly, you drank the rest of your beer. The bitter taste lingered in your throat, suffocating the burning questions that you wanted to ask.

‘Spill it out.’ He hit you by surprise with the command.

‘Uh–what?’

You knew there were plenty of mindreaders around, but you had not thought it was one of Logan’s abilities. ‘How did you–’

‘It’s all in your face, sweetheart. You think just ‘cause you’re quiet, you’re hard to read, don’t you.’ His assumption left you a bit stunned. It wasn’t that you had thought exactly that, but more so that you never considered that you were making any expressions that were that easy to interpret, as you never really had anyone pay that much attention to you to point it out.

‘If you want to say something, just say it.’ Logan said the corner of his lips lifted in a small smile. ‘If you’re wondering if it hurts,’ he looked down at his knuckles, ‘it hurts just as any other one-foot-long knife cutting through skin.’

‘That’s awful.’ You gasped, considering what it must be like to have such a mutation that inadvertently harmed you any time you used it.

‘You get used to it after a while.’

Another round of silence. This time, the longer it went on, the more you started thinking how you must be inconveniencing him. With the beers drank, there was little for you both to still be doing here, but also didn’t want to be rude by just up and leaving. After all, you didn’t know Logan very well.

‘You sure you’re alright?’ He asked, coming out from behind the table.

‘Yeah.’ You tried to smile but could tell it probably did not reach your eyes. Logan moved with a sense of apprehension, unsure of how to approach you. Being a year on the road, not to mention the years of solitude before he had joined the Professor’s team, had not exactly prepared him for these kinds of situations. He didn’t know the right things to do or to say. But to you, just his presence was enough. Just him being there, talking, or in this case, just seeing you, was more than you could have asked for. ‘I’m good.’

And yet, ironically, though you had actually meant it for once, you really did feel alright, but something about the situation caused tears to prickle in the corners of your eyes. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation that made you overly sensitive. Or the alcohol.

You blinked the tears away and smiled awkwardly. ‘It’s just been a long day.’ or week. Month. Year. How about your entire life?

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ There was that quirk in his lip again, that ghost of a smile. And you couldn’t figure out if his response was just a sarcastic quip, understandably referring to his past days, which you were sure did not consist of a walk in the park. Or did he actually mean it, and he did want you to tell him more? Well, your moment of contemplation brought on another wave of silence, and the heavier it fell, the worse you felt to go back to your problems.

The sudden sound of footsteps pulled you back into your world. People must be slowly waking up; meanwhile, you hadn’t had an hour of sleep yet, and the effect of that started to hit.

‘I should— should probably go.’ You muttered, taking small steps in the direction of the door.

‘Well, the offer always stands.’ Logan followed you with his eyes, turning in his spot as you passed by him. See you around, Nightshade.’

‘What?’ the nickname caught you off-guard, stopping you in your tracks.

‘Sorry,’ Logan winced, ‘I don’t know—’ that’s what he gets for trying to be cute.

‘No, don’t apologise. I like it.’ Your smile finally found its full form. A “thank you” almost slipped past it, but you held yourself back. It felt too cheesy to get all sentimental about something as silly as a nickname. Especially since he didn’t know what it meant for you. He didn’t need to know didn’t think you’d ever belong amongst these people enough to get a moniker.

And maybe it didn’t mean anything at all, maybe he had just said it as a mindless comment on your powers. Or maybe not. Maybe he had really tried hard to put that smile on your face.

You would never know.

Unless you took that one small step. Because, of course, all you had to do was ask, just like he had told you, but maybe another time. For now, you just bid him farewell, hoping for that next opportunity to certainly come sooner than later.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 15 days ago

Text

AS FAST AS YOU CAN

KINKTOBER DAY 24 - OUTDOOR SEX WITH TOMMY SHELBY

Pairing.| Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary.| Your husband likes to play games to keep your marriage exciting. When you oppose against his wants, he thinks a game of predator and prey can soothe your disputes.

Warnings.| Noncon, dubcon, predator and prey, outdoor sex, p in v, rough sex, breeding kink, postnatal depression, implied lactating kink, tommy's a dick lol.

Word count.| 2.7k

Notes.| This may have been my favourite to write, Tommy just screams predator and prey.

It was just another fun game for the happy couple. A way to keep the spark of adrenaline, excitement and desire for each other. To your husband, this was considered intimacy. The casual sex could get repetitive for him, don’t get Tommy wrong, he loved your body, worshiped it at every opportunity he got. But he wanted to feel alive with you, take every opportunity possible to explore new pleasures with you. To keep the sparkle of rigorousness in your marriage.

Tommy Shelby was a sadist, your hand was forced into marriage and then you were sentenced with baring his children. You loved your two sons, Alastair and Henry, but feared them living cursed lives. You had heard so many malediction tales of the Shelby name. They were still babies, Alstair only turning one a month ago. Many nights you considered packing your bags and running away with your sons, but feared your husband’s wrath if you ever got caught.

Only eight weeks postnatal, Tommy was pushing you for another, but you were far too resistant this time. The way your expression soured and lips wobbled as you began to express how you needed to wait, your body needed to properly heal from your first pregnancy. Your body was weak, you were ruined by the issues of bearing children. You needed a break after having one child after the other. To what he was quite aggressive over your resistance, he found himself rather content at the situation, an idea sprouting in his mind.

On this cold, misty day at Arrow House, Tommy thought it was the perfect environment for another intimate activity between you both. It was hunting season, and what better than a game of predator and prey. But in reality, he wanted to torment you in ways you didn’t know were possible. Because no matter the terms and conditions of the game, it was always designed for him to win.

“It’s a simple game darling, I desire another child, you do not” Tommy spoke confidently as you stood in front of the green field.

You rubbed your shoulders in the cold gentle wind. It was foggy, the forest almost hidden in the distance. With a congested sniff of your nose, you looked up to your husband who was dressed appropriately for a hunting session, the rifle included.

“If you can reach the main road through the woods before I catch you, I won’t impregnate you until you’re ready, I promise” Tommy explained, closing the distance between you with a wicked grin on his lips.

“Then what’s the gun for!” you exclaimed, your body trembling as you watched his hands tighten around the weapon.

“It’s just a prop my love! It’s hunting season! I’m just getting into the spirit, a predator eager to catch his prey” Tommy snickered, nose running up your neck as he breathed in your scent.

“Please Tommy! I’m tired…” you begged pathetically, your body slouching as you held onto your husband in hopes of a change of heart.

With his grin, you knew your words meant nothing. His free hand slipped around your waist, right down to squeeze your ass. You whined, tightening your grip on him as you tried to force your tears back in.

“Want me to fill you with my seed now then?” Tommy whispered darkly into your ear.

The thought of being pregnant again weighed you down. No, you couldn’t be a slave to the torture of pregnancy. The agony and melancholy it had rained over your body was too much to bear again. The sleepless nights had to end. Tommy thought it was best for the maids to stay out of the process. He only wanted you both to be their providers. He did help out here and there, but he often would pass on the duties to you and hold you from behind as you tried to calm your sons. That’s when he was even home, Tommy was business obsessed. Sometimes you’d get hopeful that he was never going to be coming home. Prayed for the news that he got caught in the crossfires, but you always heard the engine of his car roar when you were almost convinced.

“Okay, okay” you complied, defeated.

“Good! If you win I’ll do whatever you want tonight, even if that’s sitting in the corner of the room like a naughty boy” Tommy smirked, patting your behind harshly.

He explained how you’d have a five minute head start and how it was approximately a mile and a half run. Your hope began to shatter at those stats, you had hardly walked that distance straight since your first pregnancy. When was the last time you had even ran?

“A kiss for good luck” Tommy murmured before passionately kissing you.

As he counted down the seconds, you whimpered heavily, eyes darting around as you felt like a deer caught in headlights. You bolted as fast as you could, quickly heaving, your heart pounding against your ribs as you didn’t notice how tight your throat was closing in. It was cruel, you weren’t dressed appropriately for this, wearing a maroon dress that restricted the movements of your legs and tight shoes that were easily rubbing against your skin. All for his own advantage, as if your physical capabilities weren't already enough.

It’ll forever be unknown if Tommy stood true to his word, you were too afraid to look back. The adrenaline removed the timer in your head as you quickly disappeared in between the trees. Tommy smirked to himself as he held his rifle to his chest and ran after you.

Swaying side to side, your body struggled to remain composed. Your core temperature made the forest feel like a furnace. When you fell against the tree, you pant out to attempt to catch your breath. You dared to look back, the bushes and trees remained still as before. The mist clouded the distance, you were still free from him. But his voice tormented you, calling out his name, somehow echoing through every area of the taunting woods.

You wouldn’t be able to outrun him, that much you knew. However, you could trick him, have him chase the finish line rather than yourself. For he never set a mark on the road. You slipped into the nearest ditch of dirt, curling your body up against the curving wall of earth. When you heard his heavy footsteps snap at the twigs and crush the leaves, you clamped your hand over your heaving mouth.

Tommy called out your name and you could already visualize the sinister smile on his lips. “My love, where do you hide?” Tommy teased, already knowing that you were near.

His footsteps neared, you were sure he was standing right above you as you squeezed your eyes shut, paralyzed by fear. A ramble in the distance of an animal caught his attention. Tommy flared his nostrils and quickly his footsteps faded. When the woods were filled with silence again, you crawled out of the ditch and continued your journey.

You were cautious, your eyes darting around from every direction as you often found yourself hunching close to the ground. Tears watered the soil as you struggled to keep your emotions under control. The blisters on your feet had already formed. Your body ached almost as badly as it did during childbirth, you needed to rest. Minutes quickly passed, you thought you were lost. But then, you could see the main road behind the trees. Just over fifty meters away from you.

“My love! There you are!” Tommy’s voice boomed as he appeared out of thin air in the distance. There was this similar crazed look on his face, which never ended up in your favor as he held onto the rifle firmly.

You shrieked and bolted for your life, not necessarily desiring the finish line, but only to get as far away as him as possible. Tommy guffawed your name as his brisk steps grew onto your tail. Fearfully, you cried out, your sounds of distress echoed throughout the forest.

When Tommy lunged for your loose hair, he miscalculated the distance and missed, tripping over a root and crashing onto the dirt ground in the process. You dared to look back, but shamelessly found yourself grinning at his unfortunate tumble. He snarled out the dirt from his mouth, his head shot up as he saw you closing in on the finish line.

You smiled, you were going to win, finally.

The gunshot made you fall to the ground a mere few meters away from the road. Your hands patted over your body, your blood pumping a mixture of adrenaline and shock. There were no wounds on your body and you dared to look back.

Striding towards you like a beast, Tommy had a frightening look locked on underneath the specs of dirt. His knuckles were turning white around his rifle as he looked like he was ready to eat you alive. Thoughtlessly, you were scooting back over the dirt ground, heading straight towards the road.

“Get over here, right now!” Tommy roared, a vein popping out of his forehead.

“Tommy?” You whimpered, head darting back and forward from the road.

The road was only a meter away from you. Swiftly, Tommy aimed his rifle at you and you froze still. You gulped down the lump in your throat, lip wobbling.

“Next shot goes through your leg my love” he warned with a grin.

You whimpered his name once more as he towered over you. The rifle lowered to his side as he tilted his head towards you. As the rifle fell to the ground, Tommy pounced on top of you, pushing you flat onto your back. His nose inhaled your scent as he pressed his lips to your neck, you were frozen underneath him.

“Mhmmm, I win” Tommy chuckled, his kisses running up to your face.

Whining out, you shook your head viciously as you squirmed underneath him. “No! No! I was going to win!” You argued, your voice full of hurt.

“Should have walked the distance then!” Tommy cackled, his hands roughly roaming over your dress.

“You threatened to shoot me! You said it was a prop!” You hissed.

“I would never do such a thing! Not my fault you fell for it” he said smugly with a roll of the shoulders, his brute hands massaging your swollen breasts.

A wave of pure anger crashed over you. Before you could even process it, you punched him in the jaw. His hand snapped to the side and he remained still. The redness on his pale skin quickly grew. Within a blink of the eye, Tommy maneuvered you onto your stomach, your acts of resistance always felt like a mouse battling a cat. You yelped out in pain as he twisted your arms behind your back.

“Please Tommy! I don’t know what I was thinking!” You shrieked, blabbering at the feeling of his heavy bulge poking against your ass.

“That’s exactly right… You shouldn’t be thinking at all…” Tommy whispered into your ear as he slowly freed his throbbing cock.

“No-no, please” you squeaked out, close to hyperventilation.

But it was pointless, Tommy had won yet again and was too eager not to gloat his win. For if a wolf were to catch a deer, would he take it home before devouring it? Your dress was scrunched up and you gasped as the cold air teased your skin. With a swift movement, he shoved his thick member into your entrance. You grumbled out in pain, Tommy shoved your face into the dirt as he pounded himself inside of you.

“Your mind will go perfectly blank again when you’ve been bred, I miss the way you’d stare blankly out the window” Tommy sighed in satisfaction as your body went limp below him.

“Tommy please! Another month! Just give me another month!” You cried out, your body trembled on the ground.

“Darling, it’s easier if we just get it out of the way now…” Tommy moaned quietly as his arm slipped down to your clit.

The way your walls would squeeze his length made you feel sick in times like these. It fueled his beliefs that you enjoyed his sick and twisted games of his. He held up your hips, balls slapped against your sensitive flesh, animalistic grunts left his lips. You mewled out his name.

“Quiet my little wife, quiet” Tommy ordered, his eyes rolling back. “You stress yourself out too much, let me do everything, let me take care of you” he explained as he leant down to kiss your heated cheek.

Tommy coached you to keep on squeezing him, just how he liked it as he rutted into you. In return, he hit your sweet spot over and over again. Quickly, your eyes rolled back as you whimpered out in pleasure, back arched and cunt squeezing as tightly as possible. Tommy groaned out, his movement’s suddenly stilling as he shot his seed deep inside of you. Tommy gleefully smiled out, it had felt like an eternity since he came inside of you.

As you panted out, ears blocked and sight still blurry, you realized Tommy was talking to you.

“A little baby girl, doesn’t that sound nice?” Tommy asked softly, his cock still buried deep inside of you.

“A girl” you smiled weakly, mind still dazed from your post orgasm state.

“Yeah… A girl, she’d be as beautiful as you, eh?” he complimented, his hand rubbed over your lower back as he slipped his size out of your dripping hole.

“No” you mumbled.

“No?”

“I’m not beau-”

Your body is flipped back over. Tommy glared down at you as he read your pained expression behind the dirt. Quietly, he tutted at you as he shook his head.

“Fuck, I’m really going to have to fuck these stupid thoughts out of your head, ain’t I?” Tommy cooed as he found his cock twitching in the cold air.

“Look at me Tommy” you whimpered, eyes swelling up as you looked down at your body. Disgust washed over you, you felt sticky, as if you were covered in grease.

“I am my love, you’re emotional over nothing, just calm down and feel me okay? My poor wife, you have that sadness don’t you?” Tommy soothed you in a condescending yet comforting tone. You murmured out his name, your arms snaking around his back to pull him closer to you. Gradually, Tommy slipped himself back into your sore walls, you mumbled out but showed no resistance. “Shush… I’ll fix you, just squeeze my cock for now, that’s all you have to think about” Tommy smiled softly, his pace picking up.

“Tommy, I-I” you moaned, eyes fluttered and lips spread open.

“Show me how badly you want to be bred” Tommy grunted out, his nostrils flared and hips pistoning in and out of you. Naturally, your walls firmly tightened around his member. Tommy’s body craved yours so badly, it was torture having to wait for you to heal. Many times he wanted to devour you completely. Take your mouth or backside to relive his desire, but he wasn’t cruel like you claimed him to be. “Oh fuck, fuck… Missed your warmth so fucking bad…” Tommy almost whined out as he felt his balls begin to tighten. “Yeah, that’s it…” Tommy moaned, his eyes rolled back as he came inside of you for a second time.

He collapsed on top of you, his face buried into the crook of your name as he murmured your name. Tommy held you tightly as you silently wept, the realization crashing down on you intensely. Eventually, Tommy slid out his softening dick and slipped himself back into his pants.

“Tommy it’s cold” you sniffled as he stood up and brushed off his face and clothing.

Tommy sighed as he helped you up, he brushed the dirt off of yourself and patted your cheek softly. As you rubbed your arms, your shoulders curled in, Tommy slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders.

“There you go my little wife” Tommy smiled and gave you a peck on the lips as he tugged the coat straight. “Come on, the boys must be hungry, I sure am” Tommy grinned, his hands tracing over the outline of your breasts as he licked his lips.

#cillian murphy #smut #cillian murphy smut #dark smut #kinktober 2024 #cillian murphy kinktober #kinktober #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #predator and prey #tommy shelby breeding kink #tommy shelby predator and prey #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders

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literaila · 9 months ago

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he stole my valentine

gojo satoru x fem!reader

a/n: here. forgive me.

last part | next part

year two.

megumi is standing there awkwardly, holding something behind his back. his head is hung toward the floor, so you can't see his face, but you have no doubts about the pink twinging his skin.

“what’s up, bud?” you ask him, shaking off your coat to hang on the rack.

you’re unused to him being so tense around you. (seriously, you’d think after two years the kid would be a little comfortable around you and your never-ending affection for him).

“i, um, i got—“

“oh, hey you’re here,” satoru peeks his head around the hallway, smiling brilliantly as soon as he sees you. “i think i broke the sink.”

you blink. “what?”

“i put some paper towels down there to wipe something up and i think they clogged it, or something.”

“are you kidding?”

“yes,” satoru says, but you don’t miss it when he turns briefly and mouths “no” to megumi.

who only rolls his eyes in response.

you don't say anything because satoru interrupts you with his smiling face before you can scold him.

he wraps his arms around your torso, squishing you to him. because he’s clingy. “you’re cold,” he complains, his nose on your cheek.

“i walked here.”

“aww, did you miss us?”

“not you,” you tell him, finally squirming away. “you interrupted megumi. what were you going to tell me?”

“i—nothing.”

you frown. “don’t let satoru stop you.”

“yeah,” satoru smirks, “don’t let me stop you.”

megumi flushes, but meets your eyes and tries to smile—looking like he’s in pain more than anything. then he pulls a little bear from behind his back, white and red. “happy valentine’s day,” he utters, holding it out to you. “will you be my valentine?”

satoru’s jaw drops, but you go over to the boy immediately, taking the bear and squeezing him to your side.

“megs, of course i will! thank you,” you coo over him for a moment, pinching his cheeks in classic satoru fashion. “you’re so sweet. and this bear is so cute. i wouldn’t want anyone else as my valentine.”

a little part of your heart that you've let the boy into squeezes when his lip twitches, looking satisfied up at you.

but satoru pulls the two of you apart, frowning at the boy. “this is not what we discussed.”

megumi scowls, again, and pushes him away. “you snooze, you lose.”

satoru’s eye twitches.

you looked confusedly between the two of them. “what?”

“we picked out two,” satoru tells megumi. “one for tsumiki, and one for—“

“you never said mine couldn’t be for her.”

“‘cause i thought it was implied!”

“what did he do?”

megumi smiles at you. “i’ll go get tsumiki so you can give her yours,” he tells satoru, giving him a smug look before running away.

“that little—“

“don’t name-call the children.”

“he just stole my valentine!”

“was this bear supposed to be for someone else?” you look down at it, frowning briefly.

you will not get jealous of a tiny little stuffed animal.

“no,” satoru snorts, with the grumpy face he must’ve learned from megumi on. “that brat picked it out.”

“oh. then why are you mad?”

“he stole you,” he says it as if it's all encompanying and obvious. like you'd planned this beforehand.

“he—“ you meet satoru’s eyes (glasses), brows raising in surprise. “oh. ha! as if, satoru.”

he pouts. “you were supposed to be my valentine, not his.”

you laugh. “he’s eight and he’s already more romantic than you are.”

“i took him to buy the thing!” he complains. “he wanted to pick one out to give to tsumiki, and i wanted to pick one out to give to you.”

“he probably got confused.”

“he didn’t. he stole my valentine.”

it would be lying to say you didn't find the possession--even the mere thought--a bit enticing. but you roll your eyes.

“just by the way,” you tell him, finally walking into the house, where the kids sit at the kitchen counter, “i wouldn’t have taken yours.”

“what do you mean you wouldn’t take mine—“ satoru follows you. “i picked it out for you. i got you a card!”

not to mention the endless supply of flowers he replenishes for your house every week since he'd brought the first bouquet. the man literally teleports there every monday and throws away the drooping flowers, arranging a new--in-season--bouquet all under your nose. you're shocked when you walk into the dining room after work, and yet you can't quite find it in you to scold him for it (or tell him not to break into your house).

really, it's the least he can do for all of the trouble he puts you through.

“aw, i’m sorry, but i already have a valentine,” you tell him with fake sympathy.

satoru glares at megumi.

you go over to the boy, ruffling tsumiki’s hair in greeting, and cradling his face in your palm from behind. looking right at satoru. “just look how handsome he is,” you coo, leaning down to press your cheek against his.

you are very aware that the only reason the boy is allowing this is to mess with satoru.

“i taught him how to do his hair like that.”

“and it’s so soft, and shiny…”

tsumiki laughs at satoru’s offended face and you let megumi go, winking at the two of them.

and then megumi coughs, pointedly at satoru.

you and tsumiki share a look.

a devious smile forms on satoru’s face as he turns around, grabbing something before spinning back with a flourish. “tsumiki,” he says, “miki, my darling girl,” he pulls another wear from behind his back, white and pink, and pleads, “you’re my favorite. will you be my valentine?”

you raise your brow at the declaration, and tsumiki laughs, admiring the bear. and then she freezes, biting her lip.

“what?” satoru asks. “you get offended by teddy bears?

“no, it’s, um…” you both frown and look at each other. “sorry, gojo, but i already have a valentine.”

cue satoru’s jaw dropping for the third time today.

you can't hold back a laugh and megumi smiles victoriously at his sister.

she smiles at satoru, sheepishly, patting his hand. “it's sota, from school.” you grin at her. “and i thought you were going to ask y/n.”

satoru groans and falls against the counter. “hated by everyone in my family,” he whines, “i work so hard to provide, i plan the perfect valentine’s day—“

“i don’t think buying a stuffed animal counts as ‘planning.’”

“and it’s all for nothing. no one loves me.”

megumi goes to take the bear from satoru, and the man doesn’t even fight back, just lets the boy take it with no argument, probably not even noticing when it’s gone.

you laugh at him, again.

tsumiki pokes him, getting satoru to look at her. “there’s always next year,” she says, trying to be encouraging.

satoru bangs his head against the counter again, and megumi slithers over to you, holding the bear out.

“here, i got you two.”

“megumi!” you say, mock surprised. “you have excellent taste.”

satoru is going to have a concussion by the end of this night.

it’s several hours later when you’re tidying up the living room that you catch him.

“satoru,” you glower, threatening. “don’t touch the ‘gumi bears.”

he blinks. “are you kidding?” he makes a distasteful face. “‘gumi bears?”

tsumiki giggles from where she’s putting books on a shelf, and megumi turns from dusting the blinds, his brows furrowed.

“it’s cute,” you tell satoru, shooing his hands away. “i don’t trust you with them.”

“why not?” satoru asks you, fluttering his eyelashes. the picture of innocence. “i’m only going to go burn them outside.”

“no!” tsumiki says, running over to the couch to block him from them.

“we won’t let you, satoru,” you say, hands wrapping around the little girl's arms. “you’re just a cynic.”

he pouts. “i’m being punished for my kindness.”

and then there’s a tap on your waist. you look down at megumi, with his frown.

“what?”

“‘gumi bears?”

“do you like it?” you ask him, teasing. “me and tsumiki came up with it.”

he looks between you and his glowing sister—literally, her widest, most precious smile on—and finally sighs.

“yeah,” he murmurs. though it sounds like a struggle to get the word out. “i like it.”

“‘gumi!” tsumiki squeals, tackling him onto the couch in a hug, giggling when he goes stiff but doesn’t fight her back.

satoru taps your hand, and you turn to him with your brow raised. he does not say anything, just hums while smiling at you.

“what?” you ask, amused.

and then you turn to catch his hand trying to strangle the bears, and you tackle him onto the couch.

but satoru, unlike megumi, acts like that was his plan all along, squeezing you into a hug you can't break away from.

next part | series masterlist.

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aphroditelovesu · 9 months ago

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Hello, can you do a headcannon Yandere (father) King Henry and Yandere (mother) Anna Boleyn with their only surviving son?

❝ 👑 — lady l: I really like the idea of them being platonic yanderes for a son, so I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes and good reading! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, mention of miscarriages, murder and implied cheating and toxic relationships.

❝👑pairing: platonic yandere!henry viii/anne boleyn x son!reader.

Anne was desperate to conceive a male heir, her only hope of staying alive and maintaining the interest of the King who, after some miscarriages and the birth of a daughter, has already began to wander towards one of her ladies-in-waiting.

So when she discovered a new pregnancy, she desperately prayed for a son and that she wouldn't suffer another miscarriage. She could not bear the loss and pain. Henry was pleased with the new pregnancy, but worried. Anne had already had several miscarriages and was only able to produce one healthy child, a daughter.

Anne took great care of herself during her pregnancy, taking care of what she ate and drank and trying to maintain good health. The first few months were the most tense, with fear enveloping both Anne and Henry. As the pregnancy progressed and there was no miscarriage, Anne became more confident.

When the day finally arrived to give birth, she was anxious. Henry was also anxious and he was so nervous when he heard Anne screaming outside the room, he didn't know what to think. When a baby's cries finally came after what seemed like hours, he entered the room.

Anne held her baby on her lap and cried softly and when a doctor approached Henry and said, "Congratulations, Your Majesty. You have an heir", it was the first time that Henry felt complete happiness. When he picked you up, he was smiling from ear to ear. Not only were you the much-desired male heir but you also saved your mother's head.

Both of them would be extremely overprotective of their only son and those close to you will be scrutinized. Henry has become very paranoid about your safety and takes every precaution possible.

You are always by your mother or father's side, you cannot be alone at any time with a stranger. Anne, especially, would like to keep you sewn to her side all the time. She cares about you a lot and is always checking up on you. When you get sick, she becomes paranoid that you will die.

You are your parents' greatest pride and Henry doesn't try to hide it. He neglects all his other children and gives you all his love and affection. He takes you for walks, hunting and spoils you with all the perks that a future King deserves. In addition to showing you off before the Court. After all, you are the future King.

They are both very proud of anything you do. Any milestone, no matter how small, will be applauded by them. Your first words, the first time you walked and everything else will be treated with great celebration. Expensive parties are thrown in your honor all the time.

As you grow up, they become even more overprotective and controlling. Anne does not want you to leave the Court under any circumstances and Henry allows you to do so, but only with many guards. There were many threats lurking and they couldn't let anything happen to you. May God forbid anything from happening to you as the results will be disastrous.

Anne hates it when you spend time with other people, especially if they are women. The only women you need in your life are your mother and your older sister, Elizabeth. Although she understands that's a part of a man's life, she still doesn't like it and any potential mistress or love interest will be dealt with quickly. She is your mother, so no one has more right to you than her.

Henry is more than aware of his wife's actions and although he doesn't encourage them, he doesn't reprimand her. In fact, he's probably the one who encourages you to enjoy your life even if it always leads to fights with Anne. It was worth it when you looked happy. And your happiness is very important to him.

Your potential friends will be scrutinized and if your parents don't like them, they will leave. Henry and Anne won't sentence them to death at first, but if you or they are stubborn, they will be tried for treason. Don't you understand that you shouldn't trust anyone other than your own family? Your parents are the only ones who want the best for you.

Henry and Anne are smothering and protective parents but they only have your best interests at heart. They want you to live a full and happy life, but with them by your side. You were everything they both wanted and they would be damned if they let anything happen to you. England still does not know the fury of its monarchs nor the overwhelming love they feel for their only son.

#yandere history #history #the tudors #yandere historical characters #yandere the tudors #yandere henry viii #yandere anne boleyn #Platonic yandere henry viii #platonic yandere anne boleyn #x male reader #headcanons #yandere headcanons #henry viii #anne boleyn #platonic yandere

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hoshigray · 1 year ago

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Anon said: I hope it's okay.. wondering if you could write something for ushijima where he's married with kids and the mc is starting to feel insecure about her body and ushijima shows to her how much he still gets turned on by her (now more than ever too). Also I'm really happy I came across your blog! Absolutely love your writing! 🤗💕✨️

Omg another Ushi request!! Stop this is so cute, has me grinnin' and shit!! Tysm for the kind words, noonie, happy to have you on my blog as well~ ;w; ♡ (also, I'm so so so SO sorry for deleting your ask before, plz forgive me bc the draft wasn't finished AT ALL, lmao)

Cw: Ushijima x fem! reader - soft and then smutty, so minors DNI - reader is chubby + has stretch marks cuz I said so - kisses on body (f! receiving) - cunnilingus/oral (f! receiving) - implied breeding kink - praise - biting (Ushi nibbles on your tummy, cheeks, and nipples) - clitoral play (swiping and sucking) - ends with implied insertion - slight overstimulation - reader feeling self-conscious about their body but Ushi coming in for the rescue - you and Ushi have two-year-old twin sons!! Wc: 2.8k

There's nothing you would want to change about your life.

You already thought you hit the jackpot when you stumbled upon and started dating THE Wakatoshi Ushijima, a man you never — in your WILDEST dreams imaginable — could see yourself with. And the fact that he proposed and took you as his spouse is shocking enough. But now, as you see him on the couch with two small children asleep on his lap as the man watches the television, it's hard to conceal the smile that sneaks past your comprehension, and you silently walk upstairs to your shared bedroom.

It's been three years since you and Ushijima tied the knot, and you expectant with two boys immediately after. Since then, your life has gotten brighter and brighter by the day. Not only has Ushijima been a great and supportive unit as he has been since he first met you, but watching your sons grow into such beautiful bundles of joy never fails to make you beam with glee. And it's so cute because they're literal carbon copies of their father! Aside from being much more expressive and bubbly than their silent parent, he says they get from you.

For the past three years, every day in the Ushijima household has been grateful. Having a loving husband and two wonderful children is evidence of such. Because of this happiness you bestow and witness, there's absolutely nothing in this life that you'd want to change or replace…

...But that's a lie because there is one thing you'd wish to change. And it bothers you as you stare into the bedroom mirror.

Turning your figure to the left and right in your underwear, you're the only one here who can point out the critiques of your body that you've noticed since pregnancy. Your brows crease as you bore holes at the plumpness of your abdomen that wasn't this curvy before, the detailed streaks of your stretch marks indicating the changes your body's undergone through the years. And your appearance comes off plumper than you've remembered prior; memories of your "perfect" figure from your wedding night flood your mind.

The mirror doesn't display a "you" that you recognize. It's a "you" that has long replaced your old self — the old self who was distinct compared to now, the old self that would model cute outfits and pose with their friends, the old self that grabbed the attention of a well-renowned volleyball player and would soon bear his children.

That old self is long gone, fueling your dismay about who you're looking at as your reflection. This is you, but this isn't your body, is it? It can't be. A body like this shouldn't be able to experience the happiness you're experiencing...should it? The more you stare at your reflection, the blurrier your head is clouded with your thoughts, and an uncomfortable bob strangles your throat.

KNOCK!! KNOCK!!

You jump at the sudden sound, turning to face the ajar bedroom door. Your husband, Ushijima, entering halfway. "Can I come in?"

"Uhhh, yeah, come in!" You stutter as you grab an oversized shirt (Ushijima's) to cover up. It's funny: being together all these years and you still wish to be modest around your partner. He closes the door behind him once you sit on your side of the bed. "Put the boys to bed."

"Mhmm." He hums in response, walking to the mirror you were using, touching up on his hair before taking off his shirt. He stretches in front of the glass, and you observe him as he does so. His reflection depicts the gorgeous lean physique as his breathtaking back muscles captivate you. Even when he goes into the closet to fetch a more comfortable tee to sleep in, your eyes never leave him.

Strong. Stoic. Incredibly athletic. And a cadence that engulfs anyone in his path. There are many ways people in your surroundings have depicted your husband. And with a front-row seat, you understand what they mean. Ushijima is a rather unusual breed of man, both mind and body; it's a fact you've known before you two dated. And it's a fact that grasps your attraction to him constantly. All these years, and he's still the handsome man you fell in love with.

Makes you wonder if he thinks the same for you. Even with your current body...

"Y/n." A voice snaps you back to the present, turning to the other side of the bed to see Ushijima look directly at you. You blink with a shiver; he must've been calling for you while deep in your thoughts. "You okay?"

You cough before answering. "Ahem, yeah, yeah! Sorry, I'm fine."

The man trenches his brows. "No, you're not." He cuts you off before you can say an excuse. "This is the third time this week you've been thinking up a storm to yourself. Not to mention you've been doing it for the past few months."

"Am...Was I that obvious?"

"That, and I saw you looking at yourself earlier." It's bad enough his blunt answers shoot arrows to your heart, but to know he did see you eyeing yourself at the mirror? Your mind goes rampant thinking what he'll say next. "So, what's wrong?"

You could try to dismiss the topic again and just retire for the night, but you know Ushijima well enough to know you can trust him with what you're thinking. You sigh heavily, turning to your fingers that fidget amognst themselves. "Toshi...Do you...like my body?"

One second goes by. Three seconds. The silence gnaws you, you chew on your lip to distract yourself until the man answers. "...What do you mean?"

"Like...before I had the boys, I felt real...confident? With myself?" Your fingers now toy with the comforter covering your lower body, the awkward atmosphere eating you alive. "I'm not saying I was the most gorgeous person alive or anything, but I liked how my body looked. And now, after being pregnant and everything, I just feel like.....I don't know. Forget about it; good night!" You swiftly turned off the lamp on your bedside and patted your pillow. But before you can situate yourself to sleep, a hand comes to your cheek, prompting you to look at your spouse again.

"Y/n." The way he says your name is so calm and comforting. You lean to his touch. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

You nod, a thumb stroking the soft flesh of your cheek. "Yeah, it's just me with my stupid thoughts bullying me, really..."

Ushijima hums, his free hand freeing your lower half from the warm comforter, exposing your legs to the air-conditioned space. "You shouldn't let those thoughts take the best out of you. You're an adult; it's only natural that your body changes as you grow. And as a mother, it's not guaranteed you'll look like your old self." Once again, the man obliviously scolds you with his curt response. Although, you know he's not wrong, nodding to his words.

"I know, I know. It's just..." Another sigh leaves your fatigued lips. "Every time I look at myself, I just don't know...how can such an amazing and wonderful guy like you still want to be with me looking...different. I get it: it's just my head being mean. But still..." And you leave it at that, withdrawing your face from his warm palm.

Ushijima, though, kept his eyes on your solemn expression. He tries again, bringing his hand up to your chin to look at him. "To answer your question: yes, I do like your body. The reason why is that it's your body. I keep mine in the same condition — if not better — simply because I have a job that requires me to do so. But that's just for me, not you. I didn't date you just because of your body alone. I sure didn't propose to you for it either. I married you — all of you. I love everything about you, and that love hasn't changed since I said my vows." The hand on your chin returns to cupping your cheek. "And it won't change just because of some natural changes to your body. Otherwise, I'd be a terrible husband and father for thinking so."

"Toshi..." Just when you thought your love for this man couldn't get any significant, he always finds a way to bring it up to substantial levels. Your heart swoons to his words, making you fall unquestionably in love with him again. Now you bring a hand to his cheek, "You're such a wonderful man, you know that? So lucky to have you as my husband." He averts his gaze from yours, a sign you know is his way of accepting praise.

"I'll say this, though," the tall man places his other hand to seize your small one on his cheek, olive eyes boring into yours: a sign of honesty. "Ever since you had the twins, I think you've become more beautiful than before."

His face draws in close, and your breath hitches. "Toshi—"

"I mean it. You're so beautiful..." His lips rest on your plump ones, and you're gently pushed to your back with your head on the pillows. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his kisses, small gasps when he leaves your lips to set sweet smooches on your cheek and neck. "So beautiful for me....."

The feeling of his lips on you has you under his spell, and you mean when a hand snakes under your shirt. Ushijima lifts the material to expose your body to him; humility still runs over you as you use your hands to cover yourself. But the man before you doesn't let that happen, moving your hands off your body and onto his shoulders. "Don't do that. Let me see it all." His mouth goes back to your neck, sucking on your skin that'll surely leave marks for you to see in the morning.

He then ventured down, kissing and sucking on every piece of insecurity that caged you. Every stretch mark, from your shoulders to your tummy, kissed with love and gratitude. Your plush thighs were rubbed by his hands before his mouth came down, giving the fat above your panties a teasing bite, causing your legs to jerk. Ushijima removes your underwear, discards the lacy material to the cold wooden floor, and spreads your legs to have your bare genitalia out for him to see.

Your face is now hot from the exposition. "Toshi..." you say his name in a whisper, not wanting to get loud as your bedroom is not too far from your sons'. "Please, you don't have to—Ooohhh..." You're cut off when you feel his tongue lap on one of your nipples, licking on the bud while using his hand to toy with the other breast.

"No, I do have to." He says in between licks to your nipple before taking it wholly into his mouth; your whimpers fail to cooperate on wanting to be stifled by your lips. The heat between your legs starts to flourish, having you grind your thighs together to ease the throbbing sensation. And Ushihima notices, releasing your mound from his hand and slithering it between your soft thighs, protruding his fingers between the folds of your vagina. A sharp cry comes out of you at the sudden contact of his forefinger brushing your clit.

"Ahhhh! Toshi, right there, right—Mmmmm..."

"Not yet, Y/n," your husband coos to your ears, his voice so hot to hear. "Need to warm you up first..." He lays kisses on your neck while pushing his finger into you. You bring a hand to cover the shriek from exiting when his digit enters your chasm, your inner walls adjusting to the size. And when he inserts his middle fingers, you find purchase on the tee he's wearing.

"Oooh, hooohh...Jesus Christ, Toshi, your fingers," you whine to him. He brings his face up to glance at yours. "Feels so good, so—Ahaaannn!!"

"Shhhh, keep feeling good for me." He coaxes you with a kiss on your forehead, the pace of his fingers quickens, and the squelching noises coming from your cunt burn your ears. Your hips buck whenever his digits scrape the velvety walls, and your mind slowly descends into a lustful haze. You want him so bad — want him right now.

And Ushijima takes this time to examine your body while he works on your leaky slit. Watching your figure quiver to his touch, your mouth agape for cute moans to fill the space, and your eyes screwed to an expression of pleasure. Here is where he treasures you more than ever: having you like this with him and only him. It turns him on. It's a raunchy thought, but it's true.

Beauty stirs many images in Ushijima's mind. But nothing triumphs over the true definition of beauty when it's about you. You are the most beautiful in his eyes, both body and soul. Every time he looks at you, the memory of your first smile to him flashes before him, a moment he cherishes till his last breath and is the moment that cemented his wish to have you by his side. And now married with two bouncing boys, there has not been one instance where his light for you diminishes. If anything, it grows brighter and brighter.

However, when it comes to his attention that you don't see yourself in the same light as he does, it's only befitting for a husband to fix that. Because, in his eyes, even through all the changes throughout the years, your body still drives him insane. Especially now, when he's the reason that transformed you with his youths. And seeing you writhe on the bed with his fingers in your vulva, that switch that once flipped before has twitched something inside him...

"Ahhhn!! Nnnmm!! Toshi, Oh God..." The tall man snaps to your disheveled look, your eyes watery and lips puffy from frequent chews. "Haaah!! It's coming, I'm gonna—Ohoooo!!"

"Go ahead. Cum on me, Y/n." He kisses and nibbles your cheeks before putting his mouth on your nipple once more, sucking and lightly biting the nub while pushing his fingers in and out of your cunt at a sporadic rhythm. He places his thumb on your clitoris, swiping and grinding on the tender button. And that was the final piece for your orgasm to overtake you, the walls of your slit clamping around his digits while your body quivers with the crawl of your spine.

Your cries fill the bedroom, riding out your climax until the last tremble. Toes curl as your pussy flutters on him, and they relax when your body is sheathed with a soothing silence that calms you down from the aftershocks. Pants exit swollen lips, too distracted in your bliss to catch a glimpse of Ushijima moving downward to your southern lips, his tongue running on your slick-coated folds.

A forced wail comes out at the motion of his mouth on your chasm. "T-Toshi, stop! I'm too sensit—Iiieeee!!" Your hollers return with an ecstatic vigor as your husband drinks your essence.

"Y/n," his voice was loud enough to draw your awareness to him, licking your fluids from your inner thighs. "You drive me crazy, you know. Your body, it turns me on so much."

"Mmmm, hmmmm, r-really?" Even though Ushijima is sucking on your most delicate areas, you're able to carry on with the conversation.

"Really. Actually, I've been turned on throughout the entire pregnancy. Something about making you big and swole with a baby — the thought about it makes me go wild." He finally removes himself from your cunt, licking remnants of your fluids from his lips. He then takes off his tee, his well-built physique for your eyes to ogle.

Hooded olive eyes stare at you as he undoes the drawstring of his sweatpants, bringing them down to reveal his erection. The image of his cock springing has your sweat run to deep ice cold. You know where this is going, and you can't tell if the pulses of your chasm are out of fear or mutual excitement. "Toshi—"

"Hey, Y/n, I've been thinking" he brings you close to him, your legs spread for him. He then aligns his dick to your wet cunt, using your slick to lubricate the tip of his length before pushing it between your folds. You have to bring a hand up to conceal the mewls. "Maybe we should have another baby. Let's try a girl this time." His mind clouded with aroused thoughts; you pregnant with his child again, all big and round and swole with his child. The image sends shivers up his since. He gets so fucking turned on by it. But as long as it's you, it's all good. Even now, when the tip is finally inserted with a muffled cry from your covered lips, Ushijima doesn't want to turn back.

"Want them to be cute and beautiful like you..."

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writerwrabbleswords · 2 months ago

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Bongos (but male) | Logan Howlett X [Dilf] Reader

What Logan wouldn't give to have that damn DILF bent over...

Quick Notes : Thank you to our savior @/dorkszn for their glorious Dilf! Reader drabbles! The idea of a Dilf! Reader came directly from their posts, so be sure to give them a follow! Obviously this work is in no way related to their own, and is my own version of Logan and a Dilf! Reader. Please enjoy.

Story Details : 1,300 words, Dilf! Reader referred to as ‘You/Your,’ Reader has twins, Readers children are animal mutants (bear), Readers children are named ‘Jett’ and ‘Hogan,’ Reader is divorced, Reader is about forty to forty-five, Reader is lightly implied to be a mutant, Reader is described as ‘having stubble,’ Logan is whipped for Reader, Logan ogles reader, and finally, sexual implications in almost everything Logan thinks

Though, even he could admit a few of the kids stood out; there was a little red-head, about eight or so, whose mutation was a pair of wings (though they had only started growing in a few years earlier), and a teenage boy who frequently turned invisible to get away with stealing cigarettes (he never did, and Logan was the one to drag him to the professor's office).

Despite working at the school for a few months, Logan was not fond of children. They were loud, frequently interrupted his smoke breaks, and often had mutations that they had little to no control over. In short, it was his personal hell. He only took the job because Chuck had asked him, and as much as he hated to admit it, he owed the man something (even if this job made him want to rip his hair out).

A gruff sigh left the older mutant, who fiddled with the cigar between his teeth as he leaned back against the wall of the hallway. It was getting dark, most students in their rooms and preparing for bed. Except, Logan could smell a few brats out and about, their scent making his nose twitch in disgust; they smelled like shit - like mud and the forest.

His gaze was drawn towards the end of the hall by the sound of giggles - clearly children - and the sound of a heavy sigh soon following. Before Logan could push off to investigate, he blinked in surprise when the source of the noise rounded the corner.

A man - a man he’d never seen but immediately needed to get to know - was carrying two children, one under each arm; You. At the sight of him, you gave him a tired grin, the crows feet on your eyes crinkling as he felt his heart thump against his chest. The mutant didn’t care if he was staring - you were downright sexy. You wore a shirt with the sleeves up past your elbows and a set of slacks that seemed to accentuate every part of your frame. What Logan wouldn’t give to see you bent over a-

“Nice night, ain’t it?” You called out, shaking Logan from his thoughts as he took an inhale from his cigar to clear his mind.

“Could be better,”

He retorted, his eyes drifting to the two squirming mutants in your arms. They looked like you to a tea, their eyes the same color as yours with a nose to match - the only part that was different were the set of rounded ears on the brats heads. Logan guessed bear, but cat might have been it, too. Both the kids groaned, wriggling around as one tried to hit your side,

“Papa, ‘s not fair!” one whined, making your gaze turn downwards as you arched a brow, “Yeah, papa! You never let us out into the trees!” The other added quickly.

Instead of replying right away, Logan watched as you hoisted the two higher into the air and did a small spin, making their complaining turn to squeals of laughter.

“You two can’t go outside without me because you roll in the mud,” You stated lightheartedly, coming to a stop as you affectionately glared at the two children in your arms.

He shifted his focus to the two mutants, raising an eyebrow as he finally noticed the clumps of mud, dirt, and leaves that clung to the two - definitely bear, then. It was then that Logan took a more obvious look at your face, his cigar sitting in his mouth for a moment as he analyzed every little detail; you had stubble, as though you hadn’t shaved in a few days, and eyes that held a clear fondness for the two kids in your arms. His eyes moved downward, glancing at your visible forearms - hairy, but not too much so, with some muscle obvious. Fuck, you were his type.

“You know where I can find a hose? Or a bathtub?”

Your voice pulled him out of his ogling, his gaze returning to your face as he grunted, pulling the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling.

“Med bay has bathtubs, should work for the… mud,”

Logan knew how he came across - mean, gruff, an asshole - but you didn’t seem to pick up on it, simply giving him that same tired smile before nodding and glancing down at your kids.

“Alright, med bay it is! Come on, twerps, bath then bed; I’ve got to get all this mud out of your hair and fur,”

The sound of your chuckle, gruff with age, made a shiver run down the older mutants’ spine.

“You guys new here?” He found himself asking out of curiosity, leaning against the wall again as his eyes raked over your form, “Haven’t seen your kids in any of my classes.”

You paused, shifting the two mutants under your arms before holding them up one at a time,

“This is Hogan.” You raised the child in your right arm, “and this is Jett,” you raised the child in your left arm.

Both children groaned at being named, beginning to squirm once more as they let out soft bear vocalizations - Logan filed that under something he hadn’t expected, but wasn’t surprised by.

“Cute kids,” he stated, taking a long drag of his cigar before his gaze dropped to your legs.

He could’ve sworn he saw one of your pant legs moved at his complement, but he brushed the thought aside as his own imagination, slowly trailing his eyes back up to your face. If you noticed, you didn’t call him out on his staring, instead focusing your attention on your mutant bear cubs with a fond huff,

“Thank you, really. I got custody after their mother divorced me.” You stated it so bluntly that it made Logan nearly drop his cigar, though he quickly recomposed himself as you continued, “They’re my little bear cubs, all fuzzy and cute.”

He watched as you cooed down at your children, a slight smirk tugging at his lips; you loved them, that much was clear.

“Are they the ones who’ve been raiding the school's fridge at night?”

He asked jokingly, watching as your expression turned sheepish.

“That… Is likely my boys, yes,” You said after a moment, adjusting the two bear mutants in your arms before sighing and shaking your head, “They eat like crazy. It’s hard to keep them full without handing them a snack every thirty minutes.”

Hogan seemed insulted at your words, his expression turning into a fierce pout as he crossed his arms and sulked,

“Papa not feed us! We need more food!” Jett immediately knew what his twin was doing and copied the boys’ pose, “Yeah! More food! More food!”

The two bear mutants descended into a chant of ‘more food,’ causing an amused smile to cross your face - Logan wanted to see more than just that. He wondered what you’d look like blushing…

“Well, we can have a snack after you two take a bath,”

You said fondly, rolling your eyes as you began to walk down the hall towards the med bay. Before you walked too far, however, Logan watched as you turned around,

“Got a name, stranger?”

He blinked, his mouth suddenly dry as he focused entirely on your, ahem, assets, which looked downright amazing in those tight slacks. Pulling his gaze away, he grunted, taking a pull from his cigar to try and clear the thoughts running through his mind.

“Logan; Logan Howlett,”

He answered gruffly, finally returning his eyes to you as he caught the friendly smile you sent his way.

“Nice to meet you, Howlett. I figure we’ll be seeing you around,”

With that, you turned and continued towards the med bay, adjusting and joking with the two pouting bear cubs in your arms.

In that moment, Logan realized he wanted you right fucking now. Multiple times, in his bed preferably, with you calling out his name as he-

A gruff and irritated sigh pulled itself free, the mutant glancing down before he adjusted himself and began to walk towards his room. He needed a shower. A cold one.

#logan howlett x male reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #male reader #DILF reader #That's a tag now #logan x reader #wolverine x male reader

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atoriid · 9 months ago

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Ever imagine having children with me?

-flash fic-

summary: You want to raise little rascals that look like Sukuna

incl.: Talks of having children with Sukuna, established relationship, actually they are married, reader is implied to be female since um baby, Sukuna in his true form, heian era

pairing/s: Sukuna Ryomen x fem! reader

warning/s: Children talk oOOoOooh scary

note: I think Sukuna will raise absolute menaces

☆masterlist☆ spin off >> A glimpse of what was

Sukuna Ryomen, a name that instills fear into the hearts of humans and curses alike. A tremendous force of nature never to be trifled with, is similarly revered as a deity by his devoted followers and you.

And yet, here you are idly perched on his lap as he attends to the affairs of his ever-expanding temple.

Your mind wandered off to a thought…it would be a delight to have a child or children, little ones causing their own little mischief and chaos. It would be nice if they resembled Ryomen.

Although, the decision does not solely rest on you; it takes two to tango.

“Husband,” you call out, your thoughts partially occupied with visions of what your offspring would inherit from both of you. Would they have his hair? His strong four arms?

Sukuna stops for a moment, his head looking down to look at you, curious as to what you were up to now. Well…you’ve always been known to have the most outlandish ideas, one of which being your marriage to him. “Yes, wife?”

You mindlessly traced the tattoos adorning his chest, your touch evoking a gentle tickle. “Have you ever imagined having children with me?”

His eyes widened, caught off guard by your question. Children? Sukuna never had positive interactions with those, considering his usual exploits consist of pillaging and destroying their very homes, and other atrocities he typically engages in.

His eyes travelled downward to your stomach, currently only occupied by whatever snacks you’ve indulged in before unceremoniously using his lap as your throne. Yet, the idea of your belly swelling with his child sparks a flicker of contemplation within him.

Unconsciously, Sukuna’s hand moves to tenderly caress your squishy belly, lost in thought. A child that would bear your likeness, his most cherished person…he’s not going to lie, it holds a certain appeal to him.

“Ryo? Are you still with me?”

“Hm?” He lifts his head to meet your gaze, those eyes overflowing with boundless affection for him. “As long as they have your eyes…I won't mind.”

“Ehh?! But I want them to have your eyes! Filled with untamed chaos and menace,” you jest, amused by the incredulous face Sukuna made.

“If you so wish…we can have as many as you desire, a blend of yours and mine.” Sukuna suggested. Unable to contain your joy, your grin lights up the room.

“I like it! Oh just imagine the little rascals wreaking havoc around our estate…what a delight,” you almost melt at the mental picture.

Sukuna chuckles, his hand tenderly caressing your smiling face, a mischievous glint in his eye hinting at something inappropriate.

You arched an eyebrow. “You look awfully suspicious, spit it out.”

He laughs as he sees your gaze, manoeuvring your body to rest on his two arms as the others slide to your lower back. “Shall we commence our little projects, hm?”

With a smile, you lean your forehead to his holding onto his neck. “Oh please do, husband~”

Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, you found yourselves enveloped in a moment of serene closeness. The air crackled with electric anticipation as you tenderly cradled his face, your touch sending shivers down his spine. With a tender inhale, he leaned in closer drawing you into a kiss.

word count: 496

#sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x female reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #fanfiction #x reader #imagines #sukuna true form #heian era sukuna

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joelscurls · 11 months ago

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a heart for melting

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: post-outbreak, implied age gap, themes surrounding child loss and grief, some angst but mostly festive fluff, grumpy x sunshine dynamics (Joel is a grinch & reader loves the holidays), reader is described as having long-ish hair

summary: Jackson's first annual Holiday Market brings about more than just cheer.

a/n: Merry Christmas @thetriumphantpanda; I'm your pedrostories secret santa! I hope you enjoy this lil festive take on grumpy!joel x sunshine!reader — I had lots of fun writing it 🤍🎄 🥧 🪵 🦌

Joel doesn’t want to be here — surrounded by garland and ribbons and so much unadulterated joy, it’s nauseating. No, he was forced to be here.

Please, Ellie had begged, it’ll be good for you to do something other than patrol or drinking with Tommy. Plus, they’re too good to keep to yourself.

They, being wood carvings — the tiny sculptures of deer and bears and birds, tufts of hair and bunches of feathers drawn out of driftwood with the tip of his blade. It was only ever meant to be a hobby, a way to busy his hands after they’d been wrapped around the cold metal of his rifle all day. Something lighter, creative rather than destructive, an act of giving rather than taking.

But sharing them with other people? He hadn’t been interested. Maybe he’d make one for Ellie or Tommy. Wrap it up in a piece of cloth and offer it as a gift for their birthday.

Not that he thought they were any good, really.

With the announcement of Jackson’s first annual Holiday Market, though, came Ellie’s pleading. “I’ll help you,” she’d bargained. “You don’t even have to give me anything!”

“Who said I would anyway?” he’d grumbled, digging his spoon into the bottom of his bowl of stew and sifting out a chunk of meat.

Joel despises the Holiday Season. He’d welcomed its disappearance with the end of the world. Because he had no reason to celebrate, with Sarah gone. Her absence stung like salt in an open wound on any normal day. But on Christmas, memories of her hanging her favorite ornaments on the tree and sneaking one of the cookies baked for Santa burned behind his eyelids. Left him heaving through hot tears.

The holidays had no place in his world, but they certainly had a place in Jackson. The first time he and Ellie had strode through those gates, they’d been met with that damned Christmas Tree, towering over the settlement like a beacon. And he hated it, hated the way it brought about that pounding in his chest and that spinning in his head.

How could anyone find any good in such a poignant reminder of loss?

Tommy says it’s about new beginnings, finding ways to be happy again. And what’s happier ‘n Christmas? God damn Santa Clause, hot chocolate, children singin’ carols?

Still, Joel isn’t convinced — not yet.

Standing across the mess hall, at your table piled high with baked goods, you are far too cheerful. You’re humming some song with a jovial beat, absentmindedly swaying as you rearrange rows of gingerbread and muffins and scones — all of which are draped in white icing, like flocking on Christmas trees. You pause to wish a happy holiday to everyone who passes through.

Joel knows he’s seen you before, flitting in and out of the community’s kitchen, always with that signature smile scrawled across your face.

And god, you’re so bubbly, taking to everyone you meet like a bee to honey, letting them in without a care in the world. Popping from table to table, making sure they have enough to eat. That they’re doing well.

It shouldn’t surprise him that you’re so…spirited, too. You seem to find the good in everyone and everything, after all.

It infuriates him, nonetheless.

Joel groans to himself. Stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans as an elderly couple rounds on him.

He grumbles a hello to them when they approach. They offer him half-smiles in return, beginning to pick up some of the carvings laid out on the table — turning them, inspecting them.

“This one’s nice,” the man says to his wife. She hums in agreement.

“You got any tigers?” the man asks.

“Tigers?”

“Yeah — I used to love ‘em as a kid.”

“Got what’s on the table,” Joel grumbles.

“You make ‘em custom? I can offer some homemade jam in return — elderberry.”

Joel sighs in annoyance.

“Don’t make ‘em custom. Got what I got.”

The man seems defeated, nodding and walking off without another word. The woman follows closely behind.

Just as they leave, Ellie appears. She sidles up to Joel and shrugs her jacket off. Pulls a chair up next to him.

“There’s so much cool shit here!” she exclaims, too loud. A judgemental set of eyes flit her direction. She glares right back at them.

“Do you mind?” Joel huffs, jaw ticking.

“Jesus, who pissed in your Cheerios?”

“How do you even know what Cheerios are?”

“Don’t,” she admits. “I read it in a book.”

“Of course you did.”

Ellie leans back in her chair, pulling an apple out of her backpack and biting into it. She shuffles some of the carvings around on the table. “Gotta fill in these gaps, man,” she says, juice dribbling down her chin.

Joel ignores her. He sneaks a glance at you; finds that you’re already looking. Your expression is unreadable, gaze unmoving as he studies you.

Despite your upbeat disposition bothering him, he can’t deny that you’re gorgeous: bright, beckoning eyes, siren-like smile — it’s like you’re peering into his soul.

He didn’t think he still had one of those.

“Dude.” Ellie nudges him. He peels his eyes from you reluctantly. “I asked how many takers you’ve had.”

“Uh.” He pretends to think.

“You have no fucking idea, do you? Too busy staring at that girl.”

“Wasn’t starin’,” he clips defensively.

“No? Well she’s coming over here, man.”

Sure enough, you’re striding right toward him, abandoning your post. Joel barely has time to prepare for impact.

He unconsciously straightens up and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He brushes them on his jeans just as you stop in front of his table.

“Hi there,” you say.

“Hi!” Ellie chimes.

You pick up a carving of a two-headed deer. His favorite.

“This is beautiful,” you coo. “The craftsmanship is lovely.” You’re running a finger along the grooves in the wood, holding the piece delicately in the palm of your hand — as if it’s made of glass, not wood. “You have a real gift…”

“Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat. He ignores how sweet his name sounds coming out of your mouth. You tell him your name, and it fits you, he thinks. It’s pretty.

“How long have you been making them?”

“Just since I got to Jackson. ‘ts somethin’ to pass the time.”

You nod. Continue scanning over the intricacies of the deer. “I was never much of a baker before I got here, either,” you joke, gesturing back toward your table.

“Good one,” Ellie laughs. “You’re funny — isn’t she funny, Joel?”

In his head, he’s glowering at her. Outwardly, he feigns amusement.

“Real funny.”

“I’d love to see how you make these sometime,” you say, then, placing the deer back on the table gingerly. “Do you have a workshop?”

“In our shed,” Ellie pipes in before he can say anything. “You should come by tomorrow! Joel’s off patrol.”

He shoots her daggers. She pretends not to notice.

“I’d love that! I have to work in the kitchen, though. I could come by after?”

Joel starts to shake his head no. Ellie’s hand wraps around his arm like a vice grip. He stills.

“Sure,” he grits.

“I can bring some pastries, if you’d like.”

“Don’t like sweets.”

“Oh,” you say, a little thwarted, but you’re undeterred. You shift on your feet. Chew your bottom lip. “Well, how about something not sweet, then?”

Your brows lift, narrowed eyes on him as you await a response. Joel still isn’t thrilled about the prospect of a visitor. Really, he doesn’t like anyone on his property that isn’t Ellie, or Tommy and Maria if he’s invited them. But you don’t seem so bad, offering to bring him food.

He can probably deal with your sunny disposition in exchange for a full belly. Lord knows he went too long without that luxury, and he’d be a fool to deny himself of it ever again.

So, he agrees, the garbled sure less than enthusiastic leaving his mouth. Still, you don’t seem too offended. In fact, you smirk at him, wordlessly sauntering back to your table, sneaking glances at him every so often for the remainder of the afternoon.

Sure enough, the next evening, while Joel is whittling in the shed, you show up.

You’re wielding a basket of savory hand pies, as promised, and Joel has to stop himself from drooling. They smell incredible. And they’re still warm, somehow, steam wafting off of them even after your walk here.

“Come in,” he gruffs, his nose following the scent like a dog’s as he trails behind you inside.

His set up is minimal: a rocking chair next to a bench, a couple stools he made for when Tommy comes by to play poker. But his works are scattered throughout, every surface in the small room cluttered with little carvings.

He settles atop one of the stools as you begin to wander around the room, plucking sculptures off shelves and awing at them with such genuine admiration, it causes something to pull in his chest.

Every so often, you make a remark about the details in a piece, how the fur on the deer looks real, how you can practically smell the replica evergreen in your grasp.

And something shifts — carried by your kind words through the stuffy shed.

Taken by the slight lilt in your voice when you speak to him, the almost-shy smile that pulls at the corners of your lips — Joel is attracted to you.

He’s following the line of your neck down to your collarbone, ogling at the exposed skin there when you pick another carving up off the shelf. And he feels guilty — he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. You’re just being nice, being neighborly, and he’s gawking at you like you’d have any interest in him.

No; you’re young, beautiful, could do a lot better than an old grump like him.

He averts his gaze quickly when you suddenly set down the tiny, carved bird that had been in your palm, round the workbench and perch yourself atop the stool next to his. You retrieve a handpie out of the basket and pass it over to him.

“It has braised rabbit and carmelized onions in it,” you explain, taking a bite and letting the steam roll out.

He follows suit and — it tastes just as good as it smells, if not better. He’s salivating again, letting the dough melt in his mouth before swallowing.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, getting through the entire basket in mere minutes.

When you’re finished, you ask him where he’s from.

The question shouldn’t feel like such a shock to the system. But after a year of being in Jackson, successfully avoiding conversation about his life before the outbreak, it sets off a panging between his eyes, a dull ache in his viscera.

“Texas,” he tells you plainly. “From Austin, originally.”

You nod. And you must be able to tell that he’s not used to talking about himself — by the tick of his jaw or the lack of eye contact — he’s not sure. Because you don’t pry. Instead, you say, “you can ask me something.”

He nods. Thinks on it for a moment.

“When did you arrive here? To Jackson?”

Unlike him, you do not grimace at the intrusion. Instead, you tell him: about your parents, their untimely deaths, the harrowing road that led you here. You do not cry, but Joel can see the pain in your shiny eyes.

It’s inevitable; there isn’t a single person here who hasn’t been dealt a bad hand. But you wear your past like a badge of honor, like you’re still grateful, after it all, to be alive.

Joel envies your tenacity.

So when you ask him about Ellie, if she is his daughter, he lets the walls around him down — just an inch. He doesn’t get upset when he stumbles over his words while telling you about Sarah. He finds comfort in confiding in you, in the way you so attentively listen, quietly nodding along as he recalls his version of the end of the world.

“Thank you,” you say when he’s done, burying his hands back in his pockets.

“For what?”

“For sharing that with me. I know it can be difficult to relive it.”

“I relive it everyday,” he admits. “Everything reminds me of her in one way or another.”

“I understand,” you nod. He believes you do.

So sweet, gaze like honey, you are an enigma to him. He hasn’t met many people who are kind just for the sake of it — not in a long while. Maybe that’s why he’d been so bothered by it at the market. It had felt almost unnatural to him, bound to be laced with an ulterior motive.

He’s still learning how to trust people again. It doesn’t come easily after twenty-odd years of rationing it like the pills he’d stowed. Still, there is something innate about baring his soul to you. Letting you in through the cracks in his battered being. You are safe, he’s sure of it; benevolence radiating from you like warmth.

It drips off your tongue when you ask him to show you how he does his craft — slips down your fluttering lashes. No longer can he deny you of anything — he’s accepted this swiftly — and so he obliges.

A half-whittled fox materializes from his coat pocket, along with his blade. He passes both to you and pulls his stool closer to yours.

He guides you, taking your hand in his, encouraging the press of the blade into the wood. Shows you how to round out a corner with a subtle twist of the knife. You’re a fast learner, Joel notes, attentive, taking every instruction like gospel.

The slow drag of steel, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle; you’re so focused that you jump slightly when he places a reassuring hand on your knee.

“Doin’ great, darlin’,” he says, and your lips pull around pearlescent teeth. Joel feels as enraptured by you as you do the carving — the loose tendrils of hair that drape over your shoulder, the clinging of cotton to your soft curves. Though he hardened into stone a long time ago, he feels smelted in your presence. So he cannot help it when his fingers begin to drift up your leg, settling at your side as he turns his body toward yours.

The blade stalls, tip still stuck into the wood, puncturing the fox’s non-existent spine, and your face lifts.

“Is this okay?” he whispers. You nod, gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

You’re so close like this; Joel can smell the floral perfume dappled along your neck, can feel your warm breath fanning his face. He has half a mind to stop himself from sealing the sliver of distance left between you. But then you’re sighing, placing the blade and the wooden fox on the tabletop. And it’s your turn to guide him — winding your delicate fingers around his wrist and settling his hand at the small of your back.

The air in the tiny workshop grows heavy with unspoken desire, a longing to disrupt; to create. Your body forms to his languidly, arms interlocking behind his neck, fingers weaving in his hair to pull him closer to you. And then your lips press to his — hesitant at first, then not. You drink from each other until you are drunk, breathless and giddy when you separate.

“That was nice,” you whisper, and Joel chuckles.

“Just nice?”

“Great,” you amend. “It was great. Better than I imagined, even.”

“You imagined this?”

“Yes,” you smirk. “On a loop since I first saw you at the market.”

He pulls you back in. Gives you another chaste kiss. “For good measure.”

“Joel,” you say then, “will you and Ellie come by mine on Christmas? I could even cook — it’s just-”

“Yes,” he’s accepting before you can finish. “I’d love that. As long as you make more of those,” he gestures toward the empty basket on the workbench.

“That can be arranged,” you grin.

As soon as you leave that evening — sent off with a goodbye muttered between slotted mouths — Joel starts on your Christmas present.

end notes: thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you enjoyed <3

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal as joel miller #pedro pascal #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories

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smeddiemunson · 2 years ago

Text

(part 1 here)

After they narrowly escape being fucked up by what Eddie had planned for them (a goblin ambush they were completely underprepared for), the Hellfire members took their sweet time in clearing up after themselves; an unspoken agreement between the older members to hang around long enough to see just how Eddie behaves around Steve.

Gareth didn’t think Dustin had figured it out. He just connected dots he doesn’t know are on the same playing board, Eddie’s mystery crush and Steve’s favourite song nothing more than a coincidence. Or at least Gareth hoped that’s how it’s playing out, he knew it took a lot, more than his posturing would ever imply, for Eddie to reveal his big secret to the band. He didn’t want Eddie to have to confront that again until he felt ready, even if it is just to some kids.

Jeff was kneeling on the floor, reaching under the table where he pretended to drop a bag of dice when Steve began to make his way down the stairs.

Over his shoulder he called out, “Thank you, Mrs Wheeler!”

Jeff didn’t see the way Eddie perked up just at the sound of his voice, but Gareth and Grant certainly did.

“Are you flirting with Mrs Wheeler again, Stevie?” Eddie teased, ignoring the way Mike retched and groaned about it being gross.

‘Stevie?’ Gareth mouthed to Grant, who just shrugged. Nicknames are a dime a dozen when Eddie decides he likes a person. Gareth had been Gare-Bear for as long as he’d known him, Jeff was Jeffy, and Grant got to be ad-Grant-age. Stevie was a bit different, Stevie was close, affectionate in a way that the nicknames that usually spilled from Eddie’s lips weren’t.

This was maybe worse than they thought.

The last crush Eddie had was there and gone almost in a blink of an eye. Connor from his home room who doodled stick figure drawings of their teachers to pass to Eddie every morning until the jocks got to him and Eddie was cast aside again. But for two precious weeks, Eddie was happy, nice, and didn’t freak when Grant snapped a guitar string that meant they couldn’t practise until he got his hands on a replacement.

This was wholly different. Steve didn’t even bat an eyelash at the affectionate tone, in fact, Gareth thought he saw a faint pinkness colour his cheeks; though he didn’t know if it was just the heat of the basement that did it.

“Convincing her you haven’t yet corrupted her children more like,” Steve laughed.

Jeff, who had now appeared from under the table, made a half aborted motion towards Mike that only Gareth and Grant could see from their side of the table. There was no question that Eddie had sunk his claws into Wheeler and the boy was fully corrupted. If they didn’t know better, they could’ve confused Mike for Eddie’s brother, the resemblance now so uncanny.

Eddie smiled. A real one that took up his whole face and made his eyes sparkle.

Definitely worse than they thought.

Steve turned to the kids. “Henderson, you’re with me. Byers you’re with Eddie. Sinclair, I trust you can walk next door without supervision?” He glanced at his watch while Lucas nodded as if this weren’t the first time he’d been questioned in such a way. “And we’ve got thirty minutes until curfew so get moving.”

The kids, naturally grumbled but they didn’t argue, which was yet another weird thing for the Corroded Coffin boys to experience. Those kids argued with everything.

“Oh hey, Ed, Argyle is getting in late Friday night so pool party at mine on Saturday. You in?” Steve dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, trying to act casual, as if he didn’t care about Eddie’s answer. But it was clear as day to Gareth, who didn’t even know him, that Steve really really cared.

Eddie’s face fell. “Sorry, band practice on Saturday. We’ve got a show coming up so…”

Gareth jumped in before he had to watch either of them start crying. “You can go after, Eddie. My mom’ll kill me if we spend all day in the garage anyway.”

Steve’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning.

Now Gareth couldn’t be certain, he wasn’t certain about anything in his life except for his love of Iron Maiden and the reality that he was never leaving Hawkins, but he was fairly sure Steve Harrington might just return Eddie’s feelings.

“Awesome! Hey, you guys should come too! It’s only gonna be a small thing: me, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and his friend Argyle.”

“Um, thanks, but—“ Jeff cut off in his refusal with a groan as Gareth and Grant not so subtly dug their elbows into his stomach.

They were going to have to spend more time in the orbit of Eddie-and-Steve if Gareth was going to be able to figure out if feelings were a two way street. He wasn’t super excited about the prospect of spending all afternoon playing nice with rich kids, but he’d done worse things for the sake of making Eddie happy. He could do this as well.

“We’d love to!” Grant filled in a little too excitedly. Gareth shot him a look that hopefully conveyed his need to calm down.

“Where do you live?”

Steve smiled. “Teddy knows, he’s been enough times. Oh and you’re welcome to crash after, if you want. There’s enough space.”

“Teddy,” Gareth echoed. They all knew about Eddie’s mom’s nickname for him. Eddie’s dead mom’s nickname for him, and the way he never wanted a reminder.

Steve laughed. “Yeah because he’s just so cuddle-able!”

Eddie, through clenched teeth and a bright red blush, hissed. “Shut up.”

Oh and his eyes pleaded with Gareth to let it go, that they wouldn’t talk about it later.

Clue 5. Eddie was completely aware of how smitten he was.

“We’ll be there, Harrington,” Gareth said, the finality on the matter that Jeff would be arguing with him about later.

Steve smiled so wide it was almost blinding. He left with a squeeze to Eddie’s shoulder, hand lingering longer than necessary, and Dustin moaning about why the kids hadn’t been invited to a pool party.

There were two things Gareth knew for sure. One: Eddie wasn’t just crushing on Steve Harrington, he was well on his way to being in love with him. Two: Steve was either just the chillest guy alive (unlikely) or he returned Eddie’s feelings.

Either way, Gareth had some meddling to do.

(part 3)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #my fic #gareth emerson #corroded coffin #this is getting away from me #if you asked to be tagged in part 2 i'm very sorry i haven't done that #it was really hard to keep track of and i didn't want to accidentally leave someone out

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annwrites · 1 month ago

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— aemond targaryen quotes ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖ | sons & daughters

❝You prefer to watch then, niece? Come down, and I will give you a private show of your very own, if you instead join me.❞

❝What is it you pray for, then, I wonder? An advantageous marriage, perhaps. One for love, I’m sure. You always did have your head in the clouds as a child.❞

❝I recently learned yours never hatched, even after taking it such a long way. I could tell you why that might be, but I fear it may offend you. So, let me instead make you an offer.❞ (...) ❝Come join me on mine own. She is the largest in all the world. Just consider what that might imply about her rider.❞

❝At least you have not forsaken your mother tongue,❞ he’d said, coming closer yet again. ❝Mine own is quite adept at it, among other things.❞

❝Then perhaps we steal away in the dark of night, married in secret by a septon. Like something out of a fairytale book, which I know you loved so dearly at one time. Our marriage consummated upon a bed of hay, in a barn where our secrets lay hidden.❞

❝Let us flee across the Narrow Sea, then, for there is nothing left for me here now. Not with you having gone and hidden yourself away from me on that desolate island. Let us finally be free of our gilded cages, beloved niece. Together.❞

❝I see you have not forgotten our games as children we so often enjoyed together in those most private moments. Hm. How well we got to know one another then.❞

❝If I do, you will thus be ruined for all, wholly belonging to me at last.❞

❝Stay. I’ve enough of you walking away from me.❞

❝Have you much thought about it? What we did in the Godswood—alone—with just ourselves and our sweet sin between us? I know I have. Would you like to know what I did about it? Mayhaps you did as well.❞

❝Come, then, let us find a dark corner so I might explore and discover the answer for myself. So I might see in what all ways you have grown into a woman, besides just your disposition.❞

❝Fuck them. Let them watch.❞

❝You know the promise we once made: to never lie to one another. You believe me to have forgotten it? I lost my eye, not my senses, dear niece.❞

❝You belong with me. You are of my blood and I yours.❞

❝I will return it to you when you return to me. Not a moment sooner.❞

❝To my most beloved niece: how good it is to have you returned to me once again. For I have missed you so very dearly. I eagerly await our next reunion. I much hope it is…quite soon.❞

❝We should be together. We're supposed to be.❞

❝Tell me then, boy, if your whore mother did not send you prepared to wield a sword in her name, why did she not send my lovely niece then instead? I do so long to see her.❞

❝She is there, in that northern wasteland they dare call a kingdom?❞ He sneers. ❝She should be instead with me. She is my blood. Mine!❞

❝Y/N belongs to me.❞ (...) ❝Nothing will change that. Including some dull, passionless northern lord. What is he compared to her own uncle? A prince?❞

❝You see,❞ he cocks his head to the side. ❝She was meant to be my betrothed. She was created for me to have. I would not expect you to understand, but it is mine own blood which I am meant to wed.❞

❝Some unwashed northern fucking lord is not suitable for her needs! I am!❞

❝Do you want to know, then, mother? The things we did with only the Gods to bear witness?❞

❝I’m going to get my bride back!❞

❝My niece belongs to me! She belongs with me! Not fucking there! Mine! Mine! She is mine!❞

❝My fucking property! She was born for me! Created to be given to me to have and take to wife!❞

❝I'll burn the fucking North! I'll burn the whole God's-damned Realm if that's what it takes! I'll have Maester Orwyle cut that thing out of her, and fill her instead with my seed! A dragon, not a fucking dog! I'll feed it to Vhagar!❞

❝It is alright, my beloved niece. We're together now. None shall part us ever again, or I will kill them. I'll kill them all. I swear it.❞

❝You will remain always by my side. Until your last breath. You will not—fuck—so much as look at another man. You will remain in our chambers. Safe and sound. Always waiting for me.❞

❝You are perfect. Every single part of you was made for me to love. And I do, and I will, and I shall.❞

❝My beloved niece,❞ he drawls against the shell of your ear. ❝One lifetime of having you will not be near enough.❞

❝You are meant to be with a dragon. Not a wolf,❞ he spits.

❝I am giving you one last chance, beloved niece,❞ he says acidically. ❝Give up this bit of ridiculous pretend before you force my hand.❞

#quotes: aemond targaryen (sons & daughters)#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader

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etherealising · 1 year ago

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chapter six | didn’t i do it for you?

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader | platonic!natalie berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!neil fak x fem!reader

summary: carmy knows exactly what he wants regarding you, but past mistakes always come to rear their ugly heads

wc: 10.9k

a/n: hi lovies, this chapter may be a bit heavier than previous ones so please take the warnings extra seriously. if you are triggered by any warning please do not read this chapter i’ll literally message you a summary of the chapter if you need it. i may have missed some warnings so if that’s the case i do apologize it was not intentional. lastly please remember YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA COSUMPTION….enjoy 🩵

“You know, I-I don’t think my family meant to ruin it or anything like that, you know.”

Carmy was trying to be better, to be more open. And it was easiest at these Al-Anon meetings, no one knew him, and no one had any expectations of him.

“I-I don’t think they did it on purpose,” his hand subconsciously raised to the chain securely tucked under his crew neck, rubbing the metal through the fabric.

“I don-it’s not fair to blame them for everything,” a sardonic huff of laughter escaped Carmy as he thought of the words he was going to say. “I uh…I had a friend once…a best friend.”

“She was the first thing in life that I felt belonged to me,” Carmy frowned, having trouble articulating what he wanted to say. “And not li- I didn’t own her or anything, but she was my friend because she chose to be, not because she knew me through Mikey.”

“And then I…I fucked that relationship up myself…uhh and as I sat there trying to think of what provided amusement or joy in my life…I just thought of my childhood spent with her…by my side.” He cleared his throat forcing himself to remember that he would probably never interact with any of these people outside of these meetings.

Carmy’s hand dropped from its place where his covered chain sat, now gripping the armchair. “She’s uh she’s back in my life now and I…I want those things with her again I…I want to fix things with her, be the person she believes I am.”

Sydney’s curiosity the other day gave Carmy a lot to think about. He was so accustomed to looking at the picture above his stove daily, that he hadn’t even given it a second thought when he invited Sydney over. Her curiosity was understandable, the interactions you and Carmy shared hadn’t been the warmest but that Polaroid would suggest otherwise.

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to be here.” Carmy sat straighter in his chair, if he could admit his wants albeit vaguely to a room of strangers, he could admit his feelings to you. “Thank you, guys. Thanks for letting me share.”

Then he saw you at the grocery store, comfortable in someone else’s arms. He wasn’t jealous, or at least he didn’t think he was. But reality slapped him in the face, so sure of himself that the two of you could pick up where you left off he didn’t stop to think that maybe you didn’t want that anymore.

And then like the idiot he was, he gave Claire your number. He wanted to believe it wasn’t on purpose, that he had memorized your number so well it was the first he thought of when asked.

Carmy left the meeting hoping Claire didn’t call the number he gave her, hoping that you would be open to rekindling whatever relationship was left between you two.

Your morning was off to a great start. Hayden surprised you with breakfast at the office and signed off on your article for The Bear as long as it didn’t get in the way of your work at The Tribune. The two of you even brainstormed the best way to go about telling the story.

Since your late-night grocery run with Hayden, the two of you had fallen back into the friendship you developed all those years ago. It felt good to be reconnected with him, and thankfully things weren’t awkward considering your past sexual history.

Neither of you admitted to it, but you both knew the opportunity to fall back into your old ways would soon present itself, you weren’t sure if it was an option you would take advantage of though. The two of you weren’t in college anymore and as pathetic as it sounded since your vulnerable conversation with Carmy the other day, your heart still held out hope that the two of you could build up the foundation for a romantic relationship.

Rounding the corner of Orleans Street you finally made it to your destination, happy to have taken in the fresh air mid-morning had to offer. You approached the door to the restaurant hoping someone would hear your knock and let you in.

You smiled as Sydney opened the door moving back to allow you in, you reached up to slide your headphones off as you greeted both her and Carmy.

“Good morning, is Nat in?” The text you received on the train ride over from the oldest Berzatto was pushed to the back of your mind until now.

The urgent ‘we need to talk,’ text had worried you at first, but you had rationalized that Nat could’ve been referring to anything.

“Uh yeah, she’s in the office.” You nodded at Syd giving her a small smile in thanks before turning to make your way to the back.

“Oh hey, do you like have a second or…” You stopped in your tracks turning back to face the two chefs looking between them curiously before nodding once more.

You smiled waiting for one of them to speak, “Uh yeah can we make this quick though I need to speak with Nat.” You did your best to sound nonchalant, the longer you stood out here the more your anxiety began to rise, mind racing with what Nat needed to speak with you about.

“Yeah yeah of course,” Sydney stepped away from the door moving near Carmy who had remained silent since your entrance. “We were thinking of sending Marcus to Copenhagen and I know you stayed there, not like in a weird way but because I read your articles you know.”

You nodded your head eyebrows raised as a signal for Sydney to continue. You did your best to ignore Carmy’s stare while Syd rambled on about their idea and how the trip would help to inspire Marcus.

“…So we were wondering if you had any suggestions?” Her raised eyebrows stared back at you.

“Sorry suggestions for what?” The confusion was easily readable on your face, Syd’s excitement at the prospect overwhelmed you.

You watched as the two chefs stared at you, Carmy’s signature blank stare and Syd’s slightly hurt reaction that you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh uh for accommodations…in Copenhagen.”

The question surprised you, eyes darting to Carmy before focusing back on Sydney. You knew Carmen spent time in Copenhagen, so the fact that they were asking you for suggestions seemed a bit redundant.

Albeit stunned by the questions you smiled moving towards where the two of them were sitting, memories of your month spent in Copenhagen playing in your mind like a movie. The trip was months before Mikey’s passing and now as you think about it, it felt like that was the last time you had fun, and lived life without the worry that so often filled you now.

A chuckle left your lips as you leaned against the counter looking from Syd to Carmy, “I uh I stayed with the chef I was profiling.” You bit your lip trying to contain the grin threatening to split your lips, “I still have his number I could call him if you want. He kind of owes me a favor anyway.”

Carmy’s arms fashioned themselves across his chest, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. There was so much he didn’t know about you including the fact that you had spent time in Europe with some mystery chef.

“Oh yeah? What uh-who was the chef you wrote about? Maybe I know him.” Carmy’s words surprised you, the look you exchanged with Sydney proved that he didn't come across as casual as he was trying to.

You raised from your position against the counter, “Chef Luca?” Your voice trailed off a bit before the smile you were trying to contain finally made its appearance, “He’s this amazing pastry chef, who’s so passionate about his craft it was like watching a master at work!”

Carmy watched as you gushed about his former colleague, annoyance clawing at his throat as he took notice of just how happy the memories made you.

“Luca even taught me how to make this crazy dessert he was still perfecting, I mean mine was nothing compared to his but it was honestly the most fun I’d had in so long.” You reminisced about your time spent with Luca, “Oh, and my peach cobbler? Yeah, he taught me the simple syr-.”

“No yeah, I’m familiar with him.” Both you and Sydney were pulled from your animated conversation; the tight smile on Carmy’s face alerted you of his irritation.

You nodded, feeling a little bad at your rambling, “Okay well I’ll just go see Nat now, let me know if you need me to make that call.” You drummed your hands against the counter before turning around to take your leave.

“Hey uh, Baby?” You turned your head before disappearing around the corner eyebrows raised as you looked at Carmy. “Do you think we could maybe talk later?” You watched as his hand came up to scratch the back of his neck.

Sydney watched the interaction play out between the two of you, a small smirk lining her lips as she watched how flustered Carmy got just by asking you a simple question.

Your lips tugged up into a small smile, “Sure thing Carm, I’ll come back when I’m done with Nat.”

Carmy was sure his heart was beating so loud Sydney could hear it, the nickname something he hadn’t heard spilled from your lips in so long. The small smile he briefly caught did wonders for his already lacking confidence, he was now sure more than ever that there was a chance to fix things with you.

You entered the office to see Natalie pouring over documents presumably to do with permits and money in regards to the restaurant. You took a step forward momentarily stopping at Nat’s voice.

“Close and lock the door behind you please,” The lack of eye contact was grating on your nerves, either Natalie was completely stressed about her role as project manager or you had yet again colossally fucked up.

You did as told not wanting to further irritate your very pregnant friend. The office was silent neither of you spoke up as Natalie finished looking over the latest paper she had picked up.

She looked exhausted and you felt horrible knowing you had potentially added more stress onto her already-loaded plate. Nat gave you a small smile though her eyes looked anything but happy.

“Cortez called me this morning,” Nat’s eyebrows raised as she pointedly stared at you. Your head fell back against the door a quiet ‘fuck’ mumbled into the air. “Said this was the third meeting you missed.”

Nat waited for you to return your attention to her, “I’m only going to ask you this once Baby, and I really need you to be honest with me.” Nat leaned forward in the chair, closing a bit of the space between you so you would hear her quiet voice, “Are you using again?”

You sighed leave it to Cortez to fucking snitch you out, you didn’t realize that being a snitch was a requirement if you were someone’s sponsor.

“Baby?” Your eyes connected with Nat’s the softness of her voice and the watery appearance in her eyes told you just how worried she was.

Your head shook back and forth rapidly as you raised your hand to massage your temples, “I’m not using Nat I promise. And I know that means jack shit coming from an addict but I promise I’m doing good.” You took a deep breath calming your budding agitation, you knew Nat was worried and it wasn’t her that you were annoyed at but yourself.

“I uh…I’ve been stuck on step eight since I joined this whole rebranding project, and I…I knew that Cortez would be persistent in me getting it done.” You grimaced at the fact that you had already missed three meetings, you hadn’t realized how far things had gotten, “It’s just things felt normal again and I guess I thought I could just pretend like everything was okay.”

Natalie nodded as she listened to your explanation, she hated it but there was always a part of her that would be apprehensive. She had seen the manipulation substance abuse breeds firsthand when she stayed with you in the hospital after your overdose, it hurt her to see you hurting. To sit back and watch as the withdrawal symptoms ate away at you as you would fiend for a fix that you took your pain out on her and Pete.

Nat quickly turned to where her purse was sitting pulling out a box the two of you were all too familiar with.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Your face scrunched up in anger, the emotion slowly residing as you watched Nat close her eyes and take a deep breath in. You felt like a complete asshole you knew Nat wasn’t doing this of her own volition and you had no one to blame but yourself for the predicament you were now in.

“Nat shit, I’m sorry you didn’t deserve that. But you really can’t expect me to take that here.” Your hand thrust out to the box that seemed to be taunting you.

“Baby you know the rules. I don’t like this as much anymore than you but when you just decide you don’t need to meet with your sponsor anymore, these are the measures we have to resort to.”

“Lead the way, Mom.” Natalie let out a small chuckle at your antics, thankful that you were being somewhat logical, “Wait is there a bag we can throw this away in, we can’t just leave the evidence in the bathroom.” The two of you turned to search through the office sure you would find a stray plastic bag lying somewhere.

You popped up, a plastic baggie securely in your grasp, “Does the toilet even work?” Nat shrugged, walking past you and making her way to the bathroom leaving you to follow behind.

“Aww yeah, party in the bathroom! Am I invited?” Nat stopped as Fak stood in front of the two of you hastily moving the bag behind her back doing her best to be inconspicuous.

“Sorry my love girls only, maybe next time,” Nat gave Fak a pat on the shoulder and her signature smile before maneuvering the two of you around him.

“Wait, is it that time of the month for us? Cause I think our cycles might be synced, I’ve been having the most insane cramps lately.” The words that left Fak’s mouth would never cease to surprise you.

“You know, I think you might be right Fak, my lower back has been killing me.” You indulged in Fak’s shenanigans, the man falling in line to walk with you as the two of you followed Natalie to the front.

Fak nodded along with you “No I’m like feeling it, should I invest in a heating pad?”

You snickered at Fak, “I usually just fill up a sock with rice and throw it in the microwave.” You shrugged like the conversation was a completely normal occurrence. “The first day is always the worst for me, my breasts get so tender.”

Fak raised his own hands to his chest cupping his pecs “Baby tell me about it, it’s just like one touch and I’m crying.” You could see Carmy’s confused look from your peripheral as your group finally made it to the bathroom.

“I could totally massage your breast Fak, but you would have to return the favor. It's only fair if you’re a part of the sisterhood.” You watched as Fak nodded his head rapidly, hands raising in the air and hovering in front of your breast.

“Wait, is this an actual thing?”

“Oh yeah me and Nat do it all the time, that’s actually why we’re going to the bathroom now.” Fak’s eyes darted to Nat before looking back at his hands inching closer to your breast.

“Wait no, I don’t want Carmy to be mad at me.” The two of you looked in Carmy’s direction, the man still watching just as confused as earlier.

You shrugged before turning back to Fak, “I can assure you Carmy would not give a single fuck if you touched my breast, Neil.”

The aforementioned man took in a gasp of breath before clearing his throat and slowly moving down the counter to get a better listen at what the hell the two of you were doing.

You, Nat, and Carmy waited to see what Fak’s next move would be, the smile raising to your face hard to keep under wraps, Fak was adorably easy to mess with.

Fak’s hands began to inch forward concentration clear as day on his face before a small shriek left his lips, “Baby I’m sorry, Carmy’s my best friend, I don’t think I can do this for you.”

You laughed at the disappointment in Fak’s voice, “Your loss babes, I know 16-year-old Fak would’ve killed for this moment.” Your hand raised to pat his cheek before you finally left his side and entered the bathroom as Nat held the door open for you.

“She was lying to you my love, we don’t massage each other's breasts.” With those last words, Nat shut the door on a disappointed Fak and a mildly annoyed Carmy.

Fak turned back to look at Carmy with an apology in his eyes, “I’m so sorry Carmy, teenage Fak was really fighting to come out right now but I know Baby’s your girl.”

Carmy frowned at Fak’s words, the irritation running through him at yours and Fak’s stupid antics. “She’s uh…she’s not my girl. Baby and I are just friends.”

Fak smiled widely in Carmy’s direction, “That’s great, you really should think about getting a girlfriend then, I just want you to be happy Carmy.” Fak began walking to the back to help move the appliances. Carmy let out a chuckle as he heard Fak mumble about missing his once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Carmy shook his head back and forth, having you back really was just like old times. He wouldn’t ever say anything out loud but Carmy was actually really glad he didn’t have to stand there and watch Fak fondle you.

“Pete said the two of you have a lunch date planned.” Your head shot up to Nat, the air had been a little stilted between the two of you since she had brandished the drug test.

A laugh bubbled out of you, “Doesn’t seem like the proper environment for a casual chat Nat.” You gestured to the dinghy bathroom you were in, emphasizing the urine sample sitting on the sink while the two of you awaited the results.

You watched the smile rise to Natalie’s lips, a somber look overcast on her face, “I’m not doing this because I want to Baby.” Nat’s voice took on a gravelly tone.

Natalie didn’t deserve this, she had already basically nursed you back to health once. And now here she and Pete were about to bring a life into this world, and here you were a grown adult still expecting everyone else to fix your problems. You knew Natalie didn’t need the stress and worry your life choices brought forth and if your overdose wasn’t a wake-up call enough, then Nat’s haggard appearance as you two stood in the bathroom sure was.

“I know and I apologize Nat. Really livin' up to my nickname aren’t I?” Nat chuckled listening to your apology. “There’s no excuse for my behavior. I know what’s expected of me I-”

Your words were cut off by the shrill ringing of your phone. The noise caused the two of you to jolt in the small bathroom. You quickly removed the device from your back pocket, it was a Chicago area code, but you already had everyone you knew here saved in your contacts.

“You gonna answer that?” Your eyes flashed to Nat, her eyebrows raised in question.

You took one last glance at the number trying to place it before clicking the power button and slipping it back into your pocket, “If it’s important they’ll leave a voicemail.”

“Anyway, I shouldn’t constantly depend on you to clean up my messes Nat, I don’t think I’ve been the best friend recently. And it should be you depending on me considering,” you waved your hand over her figure scared that if you spoke the word someone might hear. “I promise to do better Nat, I want to be around to help with the little gremlin.”

Nat raised her hand to wipe the few tears that were falling, making her way over to pull you into an embrace, “These damn hormones make me so emotional.”

You chuckled rubbing up and down Natalie’s back, “You’d be crying even if you weren’t compromised.”

The hug lasted up until the timer on Nat’s phone sounded, signaling the results were ready. The two of you pulled apart, with Nat sending you a reassuring smile.

It didn’t matter if you knew you hadn’t touched any substances since your hospitalization, you would always be nervous when it was time to read off the results. You waited with bated breath as Nat read over the testing stick, you would set up a meeting with Cortez as soon as you got the chance.

The sigh of relief Natalie let out stung you a bit, but you could understand her apprehension it wasn’t easy trusting a recovering addict.

“It’s negative Babes.” A sigh of relief left you.

A wide grin raising to your lips, “I told you so.” Nat rolled her eyes at the sing-song sound of your voice.

The two of you made quick work of cleaning up the bathroom, small talk about your future lunch with Pete floating around as you made sure all evidence was disposed of in the plastic bag.

Carmy watched as Sugar exited the bathroom the same drugstore bag from earlier in her hand. He sent a nod in her direction as she smiled at him before making her leave. Carmy was set to meet up with Syd in 30 minutes but he was hoping to speak with you before he took his leave, unsure if you would still be here later.

He returned his attention to the calendars with the timeline to open, checking off things that had already been taken care of and adding anything he wanted to double-check.

“You free to talk now, Carm?” He turned at the sound of your voice, a shy smile lining his cheeks as he took in the smile on your lips.

“Uh yeah, yeah if you’re free,” You nodded, coming to stand across from Carmy the old counter directly between you two.

Carmy’s eyes took in the sweater you were wearing, similar to the style in his but while his was a nice grey color, yours was a deep green. The familiarity of the crew neck finally dawned on him as he realized it was his crew neck you were wearing, the last time he saw it was the night he left you in his apartment all those months ago expecting to still see you there when he returned home.

It was silent as the two of you stared at each other, a giggle escaped your lips at the lost look on Carmy’s face. “What’d you wanna talk about Carmy?”

Carmy nodded trying to remove the memories from his mind, “I uh…I know I ruined our friendship and…and whatever was left of it.” He paused, eyes falling to the crew neck carefully wrapped around you, the memory of watching you get dressed after the shower you shared swimming around in his head, the extra pictures of the two of you tucked safely into his bedside drawer.

“Carm hey,” he watched as your knuckles knocked against the counter to bring him back to the present time.

“Yeah, I uh I just have a lot I think we should talk about Baby, and maybe the restaurant wasn’t the best place for it.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, nerves running haywire.

You nodded a serious look painted on your face, you were sure you knew what Carmen wanted to speak about but you also had secrets of your own you wanted to share with him.

“I…I want us to try and be friends again or at least be cordial with each other…if that’s not too much to ask.” Carmy huffs out a breath of laughter, eyes latching onto your figure in front of him.

He watches as you appear to be thinking, most likely retracing the path of your relationship through the years memories running through your head that he has absolutely no idea exists.

“Carmy, you’ve never not been my friend but a lot of your choices hurt m-.” Your phone rang again echoing off the walls in the front of the restaurant.

You gave Carmy a small smile before removing your phone, the number that’s calling you is the same one that called while you were in the bathroom with Nat earlier. You raise your finger to Carmy, gesturing that you need to take the call.

“Hello.” You wait as the other line stays quiet.

“Baby?”

You frown looking up at Carmy as he watches you hoping your call ends soon, “Uh I’m sorry who is this?”

“Oh, it’s me, uh…Claire. We lived down the street from each other as kids?” A gasp escaped your lips, surprised that she was calling you.

You move the phone from your mouth. Hand moving up to cover it as your eyes find Carmy’s “It’s Claire.” Your whisper takes a moment to register in his ears, too caught up in the bright smile on your face.

“Wow, it's so good to hear from you. Um, I hope I don’t sound rude but how exactly did you get my number?” You watched as Carmy ran a hand across his mouth, eyes wide your name slipped past his lips the dire need to get you off that call racing through him.

You held your finger up to him signaling to give you a moment, too wrapped up in miraculously connecting with an old friend.

“Oh um, this is going to sound weird. I uh…I ran into Carmy the other night at the grocery store and when I asked him for his number…this is the number he gave me.” You listened as Claire spoke, the smile quickly disappearing from your lips as your eyes found Carmy’s alarmed ones.

“Carmen gave you my number?” You watched the regret flash through his eyes.

“Mhm.”

“And claimed it was his?”

“Uh kinda yeah, it’s a bit weird but maybe he was just planning to call you or something.” A small laugh left your lips, if he hadn’t called you since he last saw you, you could bet he had no plans to ever call you.

“Yeah…fuckng bizarre.” You could feel the lump forming in your throat.

“Sorry if this is weird but do you think you could give me his number?” It felt like senior year all over again and you were the bridge between these two souls

An ironic smile rose to your lips as you stared directly at Carmy, the panic glaringly obvious in his eyes because he couldn’t hear Claire’s responses.

“Oh, Claire Bear I’m so sorry I haven’t spoken to Carmy in what’s it been?” You paused your glare on Carmy impenetrable.

“Five years, since high school graduation. I don’t even have his number.” The crack in your voice was evident to all who could hear, Carmy wished he could disappear at that moment.

“Oh no, is everything okay with you two?”

“You’re too sweet. You know how it is people change, they grow apart. I just think Carmy outgrew me.” It was becoming harder and harder to swallow your tears.

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that Baby. But I heard you're back in Chicago, maybe we can catch up?”

“Claire I’d love that, hey before you go try Fak for Carmy’s number I’ve heard they’re extremely close now, have a great rest of your day!” You listened as Claire said her goodbyes quickly, hanging up and placing your phone back in its designated pocket.

It was silent as you raised your head to the ceiling, a disbelieving laugh escaped your lips as you felt the tears trace down your cheeks. You were getting fucking tired of crying.

“Baby hey, hey let me exp-,” Carmy’s pleas were cut short as both of your eyes shot to his now ringing phone on the counter. Neither of you needed to be a fucking genius to figure out who was ringing Carmy’s line.

“Answer quickly Carmen, your little girlfriend is calling.” You knew it was petty and you shouldn’t be upset with Claire for chasing after what she wanted, but for once you didn’t want to be the one fighting for scraps of Carmy’s affection.

You didn’t want to have to share.

His hand quickly shot out pressing the power button on the side silencing the ringing, taking the extra step and turning it face down as he watched you just stare at it.

“Baby I-,”

“Why are you the way you are?” You were tired of putting Carmy and his feelings ahead of yourself, tired of running yourself ragged to accommodate your feelings for a grown man who was too scared of the truth.

“I-” You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. “I’m so hurt right now Carmen and I want to be angry, I want to be so fucking angry with you but I’m just hurt and exhausted, and I…I really don’t even want to waste my breath on you right now, but I’ve put up with a lot of your shit and I think I’m just done.” Carmy flinched at the sardonic laugh you let loose.

“It hurts Carmen…it hurts when the person you’ve been truly in love with for most of your life doesn’t even treat you like an option.” You ignored the sharp intake of breath that came from Carmen’s direction, surprised he even had the guts to listen to your rant.

The ringing in his ears along with your broken voice overwhelmed him.

“I have lived so much of my life for you and yeah I was stupid for that, but all I wanted was your happiness and all I wanted was happiness with you. I have given so much of myself to you Carmen I have lost pieces of u- of myself to you, Carmen.” The tears were raining down in full force.

It was one thing to cry when you were hurt but to cry out of anger and exhaustion would probably always be the worst feeling.

“All I wanted was for you to love me the way I loved you…the way I will continue loving you after today because the way I feel for you won’t just go away Carmen it will be stuck with me forever! What I lost to you will be stuck with me forever! And…and we spend this amazing weekend together and I accept that you can’t commit to me and I give you the benefit of the doubt because Mikey just died and you…fuck.” Your hand slammed against the counter top your thoughts all over the place.

“You take my number that you’ve had for a year and you give it to some girl that you had some stupid pathetic high school fucking crush on. I’m not even worth a fucking phone call to you Carmen! And I…I’m not even supposed to be here right now but you wouldn’t fucking know because your too much of a fucking coward to allow yourself to be loved to be happy!”

You could feel the oncoming migraine from how loud you were shouting, you did your best to ignore the gathering crowd, Nat and Richie at the forefront watching with worried glances, as Marcus Fak and the rest of the crew peaked through from the back.

A shuddering breath floated through your lips as you felt the lifetime of exhaustion catch up with you. “I almost gave you all of me Carmen. Please just leave me alone” The words escaped your throat in a hoarse whisper. You were so far gone that you couldn’t even see the look of heartbreak and despair marring Carmen’s features.

“Baby, hey!” Your eyes shot to Richie as he blocked your line of vision to Carmen's. Head shaking back and forth arms slowly reaching out before coming to rest on your biceps thumbs gently massaging into them. “Let’s take a break Baby calm down a bit yeah?” He nodded his head waiting for you to nod along before he led you to the back, making sure to block your view of Carmen.

You were shaking as the two of you made your way past Nat a whispered ‘I’m sorry’ leaving your lips as she was left to deal with the mess that was Carmy.

“Fuck!” The loud crashes of a heavy object slamming into the floor caused you to jump in Richie’s hold as he led you back into the office.

Little tremors shook through your body as Richie carefully guided you to sit in the lone office chair. Taking his position by your legs as he squatted in front of you, worry etched into his features at having never seen you react like that.

Your hands came to grip Richie's, the tear tracks on your face now dried, you were almost positive you had run out of tears to cry.

“I lost everything, Richie,” your voice was strained. “And I…I spared him because I knew he couldn’t handle it, you knew he couldn’t handle it…not after Mikey.”

Richie’s eyes squeezed closed as he raised your intertwined hands to his forehead, haunting memories of you forcing their way through. He dropped your hands delicately cupping your face to press a kiss on your forehead, “I know Baby.” The words were spoken softly against your skin.

The two of you sat in that position as you gained control of your ragged breathing.

“I’m a hypocrite, Rich,” you separated yourself from him, locking eyes. “I blamed Carmy for so much out there…but I’ve done something so unforgivable, I don’t think you’ll look at me the same.” You wanted to cry but the exhaustion ate away at you.

“Hey I’ve been through some shit Baby, we’ve been through some shit, nothing,” the firm grip on your chin reminded you of the lost soul who should’ve been in the room with you two. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Nothing you say will change how I look at you.”

It was always weird to see Richie serious and the voice of reason, not that he didn’t have his moments, but seeing Rich without his signature smile made it feel like you had stripped him of something so personal.

“How bout this, Sug or I take you before you beat Carmy’s ass,” the sentence drew a small laugh out of you. “And then I’ll come over when I’m done here, pick up some dinner and we’ll have one of those nights like we used to when…when Mikey was still here.” You nodded your head not having enough energy to produce words.

Richie patted your knee rising to his full height as he headed to check on Sug and his idiot of a fucking cousin. “Oh hey, I’ll have Eva tonight, you don’t mind do you? She’s constantly on my ass about seeing her auntie Bebe.” Richie stood in the now open doorway awaiting your answer.

Your immediate response was yes, but you had to consider Tiff, unsure if she wanted her daughter around you considering your newly acquired title as recovering addict.

“I’d like that a lot, but I-I think you should get Tiff’s permission to bring Eva around me.” You knew your suggestion might upset Richie but it was for the best, and you would call Tiff yourself just to double-check.

“Hey no none of that shit, she’s my fucking kid too Baby.” The defensive tone in his voice immediately caused you to close your eyes, hands moving to massage your temples.

“Richie please, I just need you to do this for me okay? This isn’t about your parenting skills, Rich.” Richie watched you for a minute, the exhaustion noticeable.

He nodded sending you one last somber look before making his exit keen on chewing his little fucking asshole cousin a new one.

Richie could feel his anger rising in him as he walked past Marcus and Fak as they worked to remove appliances from the kitchen. He quickly sauntered toward the whispers of Sugar and Carmy becoming clearer as he finally made it to the front of the restaurant.

The first thing his eyes took notice of was the destroyed cash register lying in the middle of the floor, debris from the relic scattered across the room. Richie stood there taking in the scene, the two Berzatto siblings' conversation coming to a halt as Richie blew out a whistle, walking around the mess slowly clapping.

“You’re a real fucking piece of work Cousin,” Richie’s hand shot out to point in Carmy’s direction the younger man looking disheveled, the frown on his face almost comical.

Natalie felt her shoulders tense; she had known these two long enough to know nothing good would come out of this interaction. The fact that you were in the middle of all this would make whatever happened right now all the worse.

There were two things in the world Richie didn’t play about, little Eva; and you.

“Richie I don’t need your fucking bullshit right now.” Carmy moved to walk around the counter, hands fumbling in his pocket to get his cigarettes out, his focus on the door he was trying to escape through.

“You’re a piece of shit cousin.” Richie’s hands shot out to grip the collar of Carmy’s crew neck, shoving him into the counter.

Natalie’s shocked gasp of Richie’s name did nothing to tear the men away from each other.

“Get the fuck outta my face, Richie.” The shorter man shoved the man standing in front of him.

A rueful smile raised to Richie’s lips “That girl has bent over backward for your conceited ass time and time again, and you go and ruin the only good fucking thing you have going for yourself.” Richie’s hand raised thumb and middle finger moving to flick Carmy between the brows.

“You’re the last person that gets to talk to me about fucking ruining good things in my life.” Carmy’s free hand moved to swat at Richie’s.

“That empty fucking head of yours is so far up your ass you can’t see what the fucks been in front of you this whole time.

“Yo fuck you, Richie!”

The two loud voices echoed throughout the restaurant as the angry men tried to outyell each other.

“No you fucking listen to me! You don’t know what the fuck that girls been through. Where the fuck were you when shit went down Carmen! Huh!” Richie shoved Carmy again, the anger he felt for you pouring through him.

“Why the fuck weren’t you there for her whe-.”

“Richie!” Natalie’s stern voice caused Richie to harness some of his anger. “No.” The subtle shake of her head stopped his sentence mid-thought.

“You’re worse than the shit on the bottom of my shoe, and you don’t deserve to touch one pretty little hair on that girl’s head. And if I ever have to listen to her cry over you, watch her hurt over you again, you’re gonna wish Mikey was still here to save your ass.” Richie’s hand shot out to slap against the side of Carmen’s head, “Fucking bum.”

He removed himself from Carmy’s space, hands immediately raising as he faced Nat’s exhausted stare. “Sug I’m sorry, but get Baby home will you? I gotta finish up shit round here.”

Richie left the two Berzatto siblings to stand in the now quiet front of the restaurant, the sooner he finished his shit here, the sooner he and Eva could spend the evening with you.

Natalie looked at her younger brother scared of how this sequence of events would affect him. She took a step forward hand reaching out to Carmy before dropping it, “Hey, you okay?” The two siblings stood in silence, one worried about the well-being of her remaining brother.

And the other was trying to collect his racing thoughts, too many zooming through for him to even land on one.

“Where are we with the permits?” To Carmy’s ears, it sounded like he was underwater, his voice muffled, barely loud enough to be heard.

“Carm-.” Nat’s words were cut off with no chance of consoling him.

“Just get her home Nat and get back to me on those permits please.” Natalie watched as Carmy collected his phone and jacket, an unfocused wave of his hand sent in her direction before making his way through the exit, disappearing to who knows where.

Natalie watched as the front door latched shut, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for pushing you into this environment. If she had just let you re-acclimate yourself on your own time, maybe this situation could’ve been avoided.

Her hand fell to her stomach, eyes following suit, “Welcome to the family little one.”

The sound of your doorbell constantly ringing tore your stare away from the bottle sitting on your coffee table. You sat still for a minute before remembering the plans you made with Richie earlier in the day, your eyes shooting to the bottle before you quickly moved to hide it behind one of the couch pillows.

Since Natalie dropped you off earlier you had gone back and forth with the idea of finally coming clean to Richie. Your decision was led by your emotions from earlier in the day, but after finding the bottle of champagne you received in The Tribune’s welcome basket shoved in the back of your pantry, you were sorely rethinking your decision.

You adjusted the pillow to disguise any misshapen lumps before hurrying to the door to greet your guest. Hoping the forced smile was enough you opened the door feeling the once-fake smile begin to settle into a genuine one as you took in the father-daughter duo on your porch.

“Auntie Bebe!” You laughed, a lump forming in your throat at how big the young girl seemed to have gotten.

“Little E is that you?” Eva giggled at the exaggerated gasp you let out before throwing herself against your legs squeezing you tight.

She unlatched herself from you before gripping your hand and moving into the house, “Daddy bought us pizza!”

“Hey, Eva take your shoes off.” Richie gave you a small smile as he scolded the little girl, her huff of annoyance not going unnoticed by the two of you.

Richie finally walked through the door shutting and locking it behind him staring at you as he waited for instructions, “Hey E go ahead to the living room and pick out something to watch okay? I’m gonna help your dad real quick.”

You were rewarded with her adorable smile as she ran in the direction you pointed her to. You turned back to Richie taking the two pizza boxes from his hand to allow him to remove his shoes and jacket.

The two of you made your way to the kitchen setting the boxes down on your island with a clear view of Eva scrolling through your tv. You maneuvered around the kitchen for plates before brandishing them to Richie, eyes caught on Eva’s small figure in your living room.

“She’s gotten so big,” the tears you thought had run out earlier were once again making their appearance.

Richie’s head turned to you, “Aww Baby look at you ready to cry and shit, you just saw her a year ago.”

You listened to Richie’s intoxicating laugh, trying your best to find the humor in his words. The notion was hard though when the last memory you could’ve had of the sweet little girl waiting for the two of you in the living room was holding her at a funeral that could have just as easily been yours.

“You coming Baby?” Richie’s raised brows were aimed at you, he had already made his way to the living room setting the smaller plate in front of Eva.

You cleared your throat nodding your head with a forced smile on your lips. It was settled, Richie had every right to know that there could have been a universe where he had to survive without Mikey and you.

Eva was cuddled into your side as your fingers stoked through her blonde locks, her smaller hand playing with the rings on your free hand. The two of you sat staring at the paused episode of ‘The Dragon Prince’ waiting for Richie to return from the bathroom.

Sitting with Eva in your living room made your heart heavy with what could’ve been. A small sad smile traced your lips as you leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

Eva’s head turned to yours, her tongue poking out at you as you returned the gesture, the two of you going back and forth making silly faces at each other before she released a small yawn. You watched as her small hand rose to gently run her little fingers across the scars on your face.

“Auntie Bebe?” You made a small noise to let her know you were listening. “Are you going to die?”

Your brows pinched together, Eva’s hand prodded at the scar between your eyebrows that was now more prominent, “Hey hey, where is this coming from?”

Her hand lowered to her lap as she turned her attention back to your ring-clad hand. “Mommy said you were sick…like Uncle Mikey…and that you tried to be with him.”

The ache in your chest was instant, you knew Tiff had tried to explain why you hadn’t visited but you didn’t know Eva had such an understanding of everything.

She raised your hand so it was in front of the two of you, little fingers dancing across yours, “And Uncle Mikey left us 'cause he was sick and I don’t want you to leave to Bebe.”

“Little E, look at me,” you waited as she adjusted next to you small body, cuddling into you more as her face turned to you. “I was sick…just like Uncle Mikey, but I’m doing a lot better now. And I got hurt, that’s why I have these scars on my face but a lot of good people helped me, like Auntie Nat, and even your mom.”

You stopped allowing the child to digest your words, you were trying to explain things in the simplest terms, and the small girl next to you didn’t need to know any of the details. “As much as I miss Uncle Mikey I could never leave behind my Little E.”

Eva shrieked as you moved forward to tickle her doing your best to make a very tough conversation end on a light note for the sweet little girl who brought joy to your world.

“How about some ice cream, yeah?” You watched as the small girl nodded up and down excitedly, her arms coming up to wrap around your neck as she planted a small kiss on your cheek.

“I missed you, Auntie Bebe.”

Your hand reached out to ruffle the girl's hair, “I missed you too Little E.” She removed herself from around you laying across the empty couch cushions.

You let out a little laugh before grabbing the empty plates and moving to the kitchen to get Eva her ice cream. You jumped at the sight of Richie leaning against the island in your kitchen arms crossed against his chest.

“Why are you standing in my kitchen like a fucking weirdo Richie,” you laughed moving to place the plates in the sink before grabbing a bowl for the ice cream. “Eva’s okay to have ice cream right, I know it's a little late bu-”

“What the hell was Eva talking about Baby,” you looked over your shoulder Richie’s stern eyes focused on you eyes piercing through you as opposed to at you.

You sat the bowl and ice cream on the island before searching for your ice cream scooper, the silence droning on as you began scooping out ice cream for Eva.

“I fucked up Richie,” you finally looked up to Richie eyes wet with tears as you watched him tightly shut his eyes and begin shaking his head back and forth. Not prepared for what he was about to hear.

You quickly finished with ice cream, returning everything to its location and dropping the scoop in the sink before grabbing a spoon. You made your way to Eva sending her a small smile as you handed the bowl to her, “I need to talk to your daddy okay? Go ahead and finish watching without us mamas.” Your words went in one ear and out the other, her attention fully on the treat in her hands. You gave her one last smile before braving yourself for what the kitchen had in store for you.

“I uh…I was in a bad place after Chicago we had just buried Mikey and then…the hospital happened,” you stopped taking a deep breath to get through this conversation. “I should’ve come home Richie I-.” You couldn’t get the words out your throat felt like it was constricting. It felt as though if you tried confessing you would choke on the words before you could even come clean to Richie.

Richie sat next to you at your small circular dining table chair turned towards you, eyes flicking to Eva’s figure every few seconds to make sure she was okay. Richie wasn’t even sure he wanted you to continue, but a huge part of him needed to know what you went through, he thought he had already seen you at your lowest point but the gravity of your words assured him that was nothing compared to the confession you were about to lay at his feet.

“I overdosed Rich.” Richie froze having thought he hadn’t heard you correctly for a second but as he watched the despair take over your face, he knew he heard you right.

His hand came up to wipe across his mouth, the reality of your words barely setting in. “Baby no, no, no, no.” The laugh that accompanied his words morphed into a silent sob as he tucked his head into his hands.

You swallowed your cry fighting to escape as you turned to make sure Eva was still okay, a reprieve from the hard conversation you were having.

You moved from your chair standing in front of Richie so you could console him, his arms wrapped around your waist as his head settled against your stomach, the shaking of his body proof to you that cries were still wracking his body.

The silent sobs turned into quiet cries, his hands gripping the extra fabric of your shirt at the waist. Your tears could no longer be held back bending at the waist you rested your forehead against the back of Richie’s head.

While Richie was crying over the sister he almost lost; you cried over the lives you ruined.

“Auntie Bebe I finished my ice cream!” You took in a deep breath against Richie’s head moving your own from its previous position.

You moved to step out of Richie’s grip, his hands tightening around your shirt tears seeping through to dampen your skin. “I gotta help E, I promise I’ll be back Richie.”

The breath you took in choked you as you had to pry Richie’s clenched fingers out of the fabric of your shirt. You quickly wiped your cheeks before making your way over to Eva grabbing the bowl from her hands and sending her a forced smile.

“Can I spend the night Bebe?” The hope in her eyes made your chest heave.

“How about I call your mom tomorrow and we arrange something for another time, is that okay with you?” Your hands brushed across her forehead, clearing the hair from her face.

She pouted, sinking into the couch cushion, “E, hey you can come visit me whenever, but tonight just isn’t a good night for a sleepover.”

You watched as her eyes began to water, “But what if you try to leave again?” You hadn’t realized how intuitive children could be at times, you bent down to make yourself eye level with Eva.

“Listen, mamas, I’m just a phone call away okay? Anytime you’re scared I might be gone just ask your mom or dad to call me and I’ll answer every time, I promise.” Everyone knew making promises to children was a slippery slope, but you intended on keeping this promise with every ounce of your being, it was time for you to start taking some responsibility.

Eva nodded her head throwing her little arms around your neck and gracing you with a hug you weren’t aware you needed. You gave a small kiss to her temple before pulling away and setting the empty bowl on your coffee table.

“How about you lay down okay? Your dad and I might be awhile,” She nodded, moving and leaning against the pillow, her sudden weight revealing the champagne bottle you had hidden behind it, you quickly covered her with the throw blanket on your couch before picking up the bowl and bottle and making your way back to the kitchen.

You gently placed the bowl in the sink before making your way over to Richie whose head was still in his hands. His eyes found yours as he heard you take your seat, before skating across the unopened bottle you had set between the two of you.

“I’ve been sober for five months now,” watching Richie’s bloodshot eyes slowly blink at you as he drank your every word in felt like a knife being continuously shoved through your chest. “No drugs, no alcohol.” Your voice trailed off, this was the first time you had admitted your shortcomings by choice.

“Ho-How’d it happen?” Your eyes focused on Richie’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down, his face pinching together like asking that simple question was equivalent to swallowing glass.

“I uh don’t know the full story, just what the doctors told Nat and me,” you could see the hurt on his face that Nat was already privy to the information. “I didn’t tell her by choice, uh after my mom died my family kind of distanced themselves from me and so N-Nat became my power of attorney.”

He nodded his head, unfocused eyes floating around your kitchen, “Can you tell me?”

A tired sigh left you “Rich I don’t thi-,”

“I need to know Baby, please.” His hand shot out to grip yours, desperation you had never before seen seeping from his eyes.

You cleared your throat taking in a deep breath, “When I left Chicago, I just felt so…alone. It was like everywhere I looked there was either a reminder of Mikey or a reminder of…of what we lost.” Richie’s free hand returned to swipe across his mouth, eyes everywhere but you.

“The pills were prescription I…I can’t remember when I started taking them or when the dependency started but I-I know the alcohol started first. I deluded myself into thinking that I could do what Mikey couldn't…that I could numb the pain and function at the same time.

“It was like that for a while and then it just gradually got worse until I ended up hospitalized with no recollection of how I even got there and…and Natalie just crying and staring at me and the thing is I had heard those cries from her once before.” The same cries you listened to as she revealed Mikey’s fate to you.

“Um, the story is that I had been mixing drugs and alcohol which yeah I was. But that day I guess it finally went too far, for some reason I was trying to get to my patio and I guess I couldn’t figure out the door, I just…repeatedly threw myself into the glass until it shattered.” Your free hand moved unconsciously to pick at the scar lining the right side of your jaw, Richie’s hand quickly snatching it away urging you to continue your story.

“Wasn’t done yet though was I,” you looked at Richie expecting a chuckle out of him but the stoic look in his eyes told you he wasn’t in the mood for half-baked jokes. “I took two more pills and stumbled bloody through my apartment before making it out of my door and collapsing in a pool of my blood and vomit. A neighbor found me and called the ambulance.” You were glad you had no recollections of what would’ve been your final moments.

The silence in the kitchen was heavy, the words you had shared between the two of you more than anything Richie could have ever prepared himself for.

“Baby why…why didn’t you call me?” Richie’s hand covered his mouth in a fist as another cry escaped his lips wide teary eyes finally focused on yours.

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.” Richie could feel his heart breaking as he listened to the crack in your voice as you spoke, you had been so scared to disappoint him that you had hidden a part of yourself for him for so long.

“How long have you been in Chicago? You avoided Richie’s gaze, not brave enough to see the look of hurt and betrayal.

“I spent a month in Wisconsin at a treatment facility, I’ve been in Chicago since December.”

“And Tiff knew about this?”

“Yeah…uh she kind of forced it out of Natalie, I guess Eva kept asking about me.” You watched as Richie’s head slowly nodded as he carefully let your words play in his head.

Richie leaned forward in his chair, elbows coming to rest on his knees as his clasped hands rested against his mouth.

“I’m not disappointed in you Baby,” Richie’s eyes rose to yours. “But I’m real fuckin hurt and the shit you just laid on me was a lot to take in but I…I want to understand and I want to be here for you.”

The tears that had subsided were now back pouring down your face in droves, “I’m so sorry Richie, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But I promise you I’m trying to be better, I will be better. I don’t think I'll get another shot at this after this one.”

Richie stood from his chair pulling you up with him, immediately tugging you into his chest hugging you tightly under the ambient kitchen lighting. He knew his hugs would never match up to Mikey’s, that his role in your life would never compare to Mikey's. But he loved you so much and learning that you had fallen victim to the same poison as Mikey made him feel like an utter failure.

Richie tilted his head down planting a kiss on the crown of your head, the saltiness of his tears passing over his lips.

What purpose did he have if he couldn’t even keep his last promise to Mikey?

Carmen’s day had come to an end hours ago but he just couldn’t get himself to fall asleep, all the words you had said to him playing over and over again in his head.

He had been so caught up in your argument that he blew his food-hopping plans off with Syd, and couldn’t even get himself to return any of the many missed phone calls he received from the number he knew to be Claire’s

Not that he even wanted to but he felt the girl deserved a proper explanation.

After leaving the restaurant and wandering the Chicago streets he found himself back where his life seemed to begin and end. Pouring what was left of him into helping the rest of the crew start the gut on the restaurant. He wasn’t proud that he let his emotions regarding your situation get the best of him, leading to an unnecessary and petty argument with Sydney. But he knew the two of them would work their issues out.

He couldn’t be sure that the same could be said for the two of you though.

The journal he had started a year ago sat open in his lap, the Polaroid he used to keep his place gently rested on his bedside table, the small lamp illuminated the two of you staring at each other eyes full of love as you wore matching smiles.

A teardrop landed on the ink-stained pages of his journal. The words he wanted to say to you easily poured out of him when he sat down to write to you. The journal began as a way for him to express what he felt for you, but as the months went on and the writing became a part of his routine they turned into letters to you he’d never have the guts to send.

His hand came up to swipe across his face before reaching for the pristine Polaroid and neatly tucking it between the designated pages. The journal was then safely placed in his bedside drawer. He knew he needed to give you space, he just wasn’t sure if there had ever been a future written in the stars for the two of you.

Picking up his phone he opened it to your newly saved contact, the need to hear your voice spilling more tears from his eyes. Your voice rang through his head as he thought about your words from earlier, Carmy couldn’t lie, he knew you loved him and had known for a while but hearing you say it aloud had finally awoken that part in him that would allow himself the pleasure of loving you back.

He couldn’t do it, couldn’t get himself to call you. A sob ripped through him as he locked his phone and set it down, the hope he had earlier to work things out with you was now gone, and he had no one left to blame but himself.

Carmy laid back in bed, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling, one arm bent at a right angle to support his head. He had really and truly ruined whatever relationship was left between you two.

Carmy’s hand dipped into the collar of his tank top, gripping the small pendant he found dangling from his chain after returning home from his shift the night you made your departure from his New York apartment.

His fingers had gotten used to tracing over the initial of your first name that he proudly wore around his neck. The closest thing he even had to you now.

Carmy’s eyes watered as he raised the initial pendant to his lips, a lingering kiss pressed into it, and a whispered “I love you,” filtered through the quiet of his room.

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so i’ve reached the limit of people i can mention in a single post, i apologize if you asked to be tagged and were left off it was not intentional. i’m gonna figure something out to try and fix this…sorry : (

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fic #the bear x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto x you #carmy the bear #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] updates

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