#croissant x reader

[nkogneatho]

toji likes the nastiest head, yeah? look, you can paint him as good guy that had bad stuff happened to him or even argue that he was always the bad guy, but it still won't change the fact that this man likes his dick to be devoured. he would always have you on your knees on a cold tile floor because he likes the way you complain about your legs hurting. because that way, you get even more desperate to make him cum so he would free you and finally take you to the soft matress on the bed. initially, he'd let you try to take him whole (although you always fail), but then he feels you're playing too safe. what? you scared his dick is gonna make you gag? he rolls your hair in his wrist and pushes your head forward. this man won't let go that push for atleast a good 15 seconds even if your nails are digging in his thighs.

"shhh. don't panic. i know my good girl can take it." he finally lets go and you repel away so fast, head so dizzy that it takes a few second for it to come back to the scene. the drool on your lips is connected with his dark brown tip. when you finally took a few normal breaths, toji is yet again having you in the same position but this time he starts thrusting.

"that's right, baby. relax it for me, 'ight? gonna give that slutty little mouth what she deserves." his pace is so inhumane, you feel like you're running out of oxygen. not even a milisecond to let you breathe before he his plunging in your mouth again. you try to say something but it just comes out as a blabber. all he could hear was "gawkgawkgeffrmmhmgawkgawk"

"shit. can't even speak, hmm?" he mocks you. "fuck, gonna make me cum sweetheart. that sweet little mouth of yours is doing such a good job." you cry looking up at him. you are suck a cocksleeve when it comes to him.

"gunna take it lik—angh! fhhuuck!" he yells and conjoins his cock with your throat, your nose pressing against his pubes. "takeit takeit takeit." he looks at you as you roll your eyes back. shit his dick is twitching so much. so much load being emptied in your mouth. he pulls out halfway through his orgasm and shoots the remaining load on your face. the spurts cover your cheeks, lips, your eyelashes. he holds his dick by the base and runs the tip on your face, spreading his cum all over. you are too facefucked to even argue or comprehend what he is doing at this point. your mushed up brain compels you to just moan mindlessly and take whatever he gives. that's the power this man (and his cock) holds on you.

[awkward-fink]

Sleep Positions with Them. (I)

Price: - He lays on his back, one arm around your body, holding you securely to his side in a gentle but firm hold. - only wears sleep shorts and his dogtags to bed. His thighs are too thick for normal sleeping pants and he gets way too warm in those anyway. Also he loves that he can feel your skin on his when you tangle your legs with his own. - loves when you are draped half over him, your fingers curled into his chest hair, one hand of his covering yours. One of his fingers is laying on your pulse point, feeling the steady thrumm while his thumb lazily traces over your knuckles. - he doesnt need a blanket. And you dont either. He is a living furnace, even in winter you are always cosy warm.

Ghost: - curled around you, holding onto you tightly. - always sleeps closest to the door, its instinct, dont question it. - on bad nights he will sleep on top of you, his head firmly positioned on top of your chest, ear firmly pressed against the spot where your heart beats underneath layers of skin and flesh. Its his most favorite lullaby. - would sleep in his tactical gear if you hadnt forbidden it, so he wears a long shirt and long sleeping pants to bed. - will wake when you move or twitch and check if everything is alright before falling back to sleep - forget going to the loo in the middle of the night alone. What if you fall? Or stub your toe? And he isnt there to protect you from the corner of the shower? No way. He is sleepily stumbling right after you, only alert enough to fall into bed after you and curl around you, again. - only needs a light blanket when sleeping with you, because you are clingy (as if he is not!). And needs a weighted blanket on nights when you are away on business.

Soap: - no fixed sleeping position. He starfishes, noodles around, and planks on the bed. All at once. Though, he never pushes you out of the bed, again. Once was one time too many and the *Look* you gave him after that scared him for life. - falls asleep with you in his arms as the big spoon. wakes up in a double spiral, flat salto mortale with you on top of him, his legs wrapped around you like a monkey. And no one knows where the blankets have gone to! - would sleep naked but you wont allow it, on every night. He starts with a boxershort and a shirt and wakes up with one article of clothing missing. - is a sleep kisser. Kisses your fingers, your shoulders, your chest and if he is lucky, your mouth in his sleep. Also cant get enough contact. - loves when you card your hands through his hair when he had a bad day, or a nightmare. Calms him down real quick. If you speak gaelic, he will literally start drooling in his sleep - all the blankets and then no blankets - nights with Soap are wild. In more ways than one.

Gaz: - has a strict routine before coming to bed - loves to have you at his side when falling asleep, your head on his shoulder and his nose buried in your hair. Its calming for him. - sleeps like the dead. Or a stone. Or a field of stones. You could play hardcore metal with screeching violins and that man will only twitch a finger. - *has* to have contact with you while sleeping. Doesnt matter if its a hand, a foot, a leg or even your head, NEEDS contact. If there is no contact, he will wiggle in the bed to search for you, and he will be asleep while doing that - has a whoe ass pyjama, which looks like a suite or at least fitting together like those checkered Ones made out of cotton. Filthily comfy and wont let you burrow them. - Needs at least two blankets and you to rest in comfort. - Listen! Has the most wild dreams and will talk to you in his sleep, wont remember anything in the morning though

Bonus! Roach: - loves to sleep with you in the bed - has a blanket only for you, and a pillow and even wants you to sleep in his shirt. - you understand, that he can fall asleep better if he can have something smelling of you, when you are not with him - loves to curl his fingers around yours, watching you sleep, your legs tangled and your foreheads touching. - lazily signs one handed against the palm of your hand, silly little things, his feelings, sweet nothings, just wants to feel you. - has the best sleep when your breaths mingle, your hands intertwined, his leg hooked around yours. - loves to wake up and the first thing he sees is you. (has literal heart eyes!) - has one oversized blanket for you both to share - loves to kiss you lazily, lips just brushing over yours chastely until you both fall asleep. Holds one of your hands to his heart if he can get away with it - wears a very ol shirt and some old shorts to bed

[entwnii]

it was supposed to be a short trip.

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔 keeps telling himself those eight words as he steps out of his convertible car, making his way towards your shared house’s front porch, arms filled with a bunch of vegetables, fruits and argentinan food.

what is he gonna tell you ?

tooru sighs, ruffling a hand through his chestnut locks, looking over at the large wooden crates sitting on the back seat. he lifts two of the crates, placing them under his left arm and grabbing the last crate with his right hand, making his way to the house’s front door.

the brunet manages to find his keys in the back pocket of his pants, opening the front door and stepping inside of your shared residence. tooru place his keys inside of the light-pink, ceramic, hibiscus-shaped trinket bowl you made at very start of your pregnancy, a few months ago. the chestnut-haired man smiles as he remembers the day you came up to him, a bright smile on your plump lips as you showed off the small object you had just made.

tooru kicks his shoes off, sweeping them somewhere towards the front door, before walking over to the kitchen.

he places the three crates on the soapstone countertop of the kitchen island, the white gold metal of his engagement ring tapping against the counter. he sighs, putting his hand on the side of his neck, cracking his neck, a breath escaping his slightly chapped lips. he places his arms behind his back, cracking the bones of his arms and back.

he grabs a large wooden bowl, placing it next to the sink. he takes the lemons off the fruit crate, rinsing them under the sink’s water and drying them before placing them into the wooden bowl. he does the same with the apples, limes, mangos, passion fruits and the other citrus before onto the vegetables : avocados, carrots, potatoes, sweet potatoes, tomatoes and spinash. he grabs the freshly washed vegetables, opening the fidge to stock them into one the fridge’s drawer.

tooru turns on the water, washing his hands in the kitchen sink when his ears perk up at the sound of bare footsteps against the laminate floor of your shared house, which makes a smile appears on his slightly chapped lips.

“g’morning, princess.” your fiancé greets you when he feels your arms wrap his torso, turning off the water, drying his hands with a towel. you mutter a small ‘morning’, snuggling your head deeper against tooru’s back, which makes him laugh.

he loosens your grip from his muscular torso, earning a whine of protest from you — which makes him chuckle. he turns his body around, now facing you, gently resting his arms on each side of your neck, his hands resting on the back of your shoulders — fingertips drawing random patterns against your skin.

“how did ya sleep ?” he asks you softly, watching as you tilt your head upwards, your eyelashes fluttering open as you look up at him, slightly scrunching your nose as he places a kiss on the tip of it.

“good until i woke up to a cold bed.” you answer your fiancé’s question, a subtle pout on your plump lips, still annoyed with the fact that he left you, his five months pregnant fiancée, all alone in your king-sized bed.

the chestnut-haired man laughs at your words, muttering a small ‘sorry about that’ as he presses a small peck on your forehead. “ya smell s’ nice. . . ” he mutters, closing his eyes as he snuggles his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet scent. “ya took a shower ?”

you nod your head ‘yes’, opening your mouth in order to answer him when you spot the large wooden bowl placed next to the sink, the fruits almost falling on the countertop. “tooru.” your fiancé cringes at the tone of your voice, knowing damn well that he’s in trouble. “what the hell is all this ?”

“just— listen to me, ‘kay ?” he sighs, placing his left hand on the soapstone countertop, watching as you let go of him, taking a red apple in one of your hands. he tubs the back of his neck with his right hand. “i went to the market downtown this morning, y’know the small local market that ya love.” he starts, glancing a you. “the locals were sweet, as always, and kept asking me pictures about ya, how ya were nd all. when i told ‘em that there was only four months left before our little girl comes they shoved a bunch of products in my arms.”

you can’t help but smile as tooru explains the whole story, your heart swelling with deep fondness at the thought of the locals’ sweet actions.

the chestnut-haired man chuckles as he watches a timid smile appearing on your plump lips, noticing how the red apple is still in your hand. “want me to cut it for ya ?” he suggests, moving closer to you. “so that ya can have it for breakfast.”

“i want. . .” you think out loud, glacing downwards at the large apple in your hand. “. . .cheesy apple swaddles.”

a weird silence settles between the two of you right after those words left your lips. a stunned expression appears on tooru’s face, visibly at a loss for words. “cheesy apple swa— baby, the hell is that ?!” he asks, not believing your words, which makes a subtle pout appearing on your lips.

“cheesy apple swaddles.” you repeat, insisting on each syllables of the three words before sighing. “canned croissant dough, apple slice, brie cheese slice, honey. you swaddle it up, like a baby, butter, cinnamon sugar and bake it.”

“bake it ?” tooru repeats, one of his eyebrows raised as he rubs his chin with his right hand, glancing down at you. “then eat it.” you add, nodding your head as you speak.

“sometimes i wonder what’s happening in that silly head of yer.” he says before sighing, a small smile appearing on his slightly chapped lips. “but i’ll make that for ya.”

the subtle pout on your lips disappears as the last words leves his lips, the corner of your lips turning into a bright smile. you place your hands on each side of his face, the white gold metal of your engagement cold against his warm skin, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek, muttering a small ‘thanks, you’re the best !’ before moving over to the large couch in the living room.

tooru lets out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances down at the red apple you placed on the soapstone countertop. He moves over to the fridge, opening it with his free hand. he grabs a can of pre-made croissant dough, a stick of butter along with some brie cheese. he closes the fridge, opening one of the kitchen’s drawers, taking the small jar of cinnamon sugar and the pot of honey.

the chestnut-haired man opens the canned croissant, unfolding the pre-made dough and cutting it in five small triangles. he cuts the red apple in ten slices, along with the brie cheese. he places a slice on apple on one of the dough triangles, followed with one of the cheese slices and a trail of honey before rolling the swaddle up. he does that for more times, putting a bit of butter in the microwave, just enough time for it to melt, before covering the five swaddles in melted butter and cinnamon sugar and placing the in the oven.

while waiting for your craving to bake tooru decides to make the both of your your favorite morning drinks : a lungo for him and a mocha for you. right after adding some whipped cream on top of your drink, the chestnu-haired man walks towards you, placing his drink on the coffee table and handing you the mocha, smiling as he sees the home decor mag on your lap, your new obsession of the moment.

“thanks, tooru.” you say as you grab the mug he’s handing you.

just as your fiancé leans down to sit next to you, the time alarm rings, making him groan in annoyance. you chuckle as you watch tooru make his way to the kitchen, opening the oven and placing the five swaddles on a plate, cutting the rest of the apple for him. he then walks back to you, a plate in each of his hands.

the chestnut-haired man places the two plates on the coffe table, grabbing the television’s remote, turning it on to watch the news. as he leans back into the couch, tooru wraps an arm around your shoulders, watching as you take a small bite out of one of the swaddles, a pleased hum leaving your lips as you nod your head.

“it’s good ?” tooru asks you as he turns his head towards you. “so good !” you exclaim, licking the tip of your fingers. suddenly, he leans down, taking a large bite out of the snack in your hands, to which you shout a protest, hitting his chest with your fist.

“it’s kinda weird but not bad.” your fiancé declares, shrugging his shoulders, unfazed by the light hit on his chest. “guess that‘s cuz i’m the one who made it.”

you slap the back of his head at his cocky words. “shut up.”

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

melt

artwork credit: "Croissant au Beurre" by Julian Merrow-Smith

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

wordcount: ~960

summary: wine drunk and with fresh croissants from the bakery you're having French breakfast and sex with Dave

warnings: smut! reader is able bodied, no y/n, established relationship, pussy pronouns, French pet names (mon coeur=my heart, bébé=baby), food is involved but only inserted into the mouth, so kinda foodplay-ish, unprotected p in v, implied creampie (éclair, hehe), implied cum eating, wine drunk Dave dirty talking in pastry is a warning on its own, dm me if I missed any

a/n: I'm in France rn and eat my bodyweight in croissants. This stuff makes horny. Thanks @guiltyasdave for beta reading again. Sending croissants and baguettes your way 💛

divider: @saradika-graphics

Flaky. Smooth. Rich. Decadent. You rip off a piece of the croissant, put it onto your tongue and it melts.

“Is it that good?” Dave asks from beneath you, words slurred from the night at the beach and the two bottles of red.

“So good,” you hum, slowly reaching for the glass with homemade strawberry jam and twisting it open. “Getting croissants straight out of the oven before the bakery even opens? Best idea you ever had, Dave.”

His hands find your waist, then your hips and he adjusts you to his liking. The way you mold in his hands, like the sand you both dug your toes in all night. But you're warmer. Wetter.

“Gimme some,” he orders and you can't decide what exactly he wants some of. You place the glass with jam on his naked chest and dip one tip of the pastry into the smooth strawberry spread.

“Open wide for me, handsome,” you giggle as you repeat what he says to you so often.

His lips, stained from the wine, part, his tongue peeks out and his fingers dig into your skin when all you do is drag the croissant over his tongue and not let him have a bite.

He jerks his hips, letting you feel how hard he has already gotten for you just from you sitting on him.

“Let me have it.” Dave frowns and holds you in place while he grinds up against you, his cock trapped between your bodies.

You whimper each time his movements drag over your clit and you give in. The tip of the croissant, coated in the strawberry goodness slides into Dave's mouth and it melts on his tongue.

Nothing ever tasted better than this, he thinks, dipping his tip into your smooth sweetness.

“Gimme some,” you say, your mind hazy from the wine and the laughter tonight and from the need to feel filled with decadent, rich deliciousness.

He takes the croissant out of your fingers, dips it into the jam and holds it up to your face.

“Spread your lips, mon coeur.”

Your wine stained lips open for him and when the flaky dough slips into your mouth, his cock slips between your folds and into your heat. And you melt.

“Is it that good?” Dave's words are slurred from the wine and your whines, from the smooth and tight heat he slowly dips into and slides out again. In and out, each time a little deeper.

“So good,” you hum and lick the crumbs from your lips. Strawberry sweet, buttery, salty like the sea air. “So… so fucking good, Dave.”

You try to sink down fully, you need him whole, the tingling liquid feeling in your guts demands that you are stretched around him. But Dave won't let you.

“Let me have it,” you breathe softly with pleading eyes.

Dave drags the croissant along your lips, enjoying the way you mindlessly open your mouth for him.

“Manners, mon coeur,” he hums and his restraints slowly crumble like the pastry in his fingers.

“Please. S’il te plaît, Monsieur,” you whisper, your red wine colored tongue licking at the golden flakes.

“That's it.” His hips snap up, one solid harsh thrust filling you, knocking a moan out of your lungs and the jam off his chest. He doesn't care, he knows you'll be licking his skin clean, tipsy and hungry for him.

“Wake them up. Let them hear your… pretty… filthy… sounds.” Each word accentuated with a hard thrust, each thrust making you moan out loud and lewd.

You cunt clenches, now that she has what she wants and Dave grunts. He gathers jam with his thumb, rips off another piece of croissant and fills your mouth as well.

“French breakfast, mon coeur. Eat up.”

You do, suckling on his thumb, swallowing the dough, the sweetness, the tang off his skin, your tongue enveloping his finger, your pussy his cock.

Your mind is filled with Dave, your mouth is filled with Dave, your cunt is filled with Dave, your heart is filled—

“Are you good for me, a good girl? Let me fill you up?”

You nod your head in the rhythm in which he fucks up into you, moaning around his thumb, pulsing at the thought of Dave dripping out of you and into the French linen.

“Ever heard of an éclair?” He asks and leans up, his one hand cupping your ass and holding you up for him to keep pumping in and out of you. His rhythm changes from fluid to stuttering and he licks some golden flakes off your salty skin, nipping at your squished tit.

“Another pastry. Filled. Filled to the brim, mon coeur. Fucking love eating the filling out of them.”

His red wine mouth leaves a stain on your chest, somewhere over your heart, you think.

“Éclair?” He uses too many words, your mind is too hazy, all you know is his name and the heat melting your core. All you see is his sun kissed skin and his eyes. All you hear is his breathing and the squelching.

“Will turn you into my own little éclair. Eat the filling out of you, bébé,” he huffs with a wine heavy mind and strawberry-sticky skin. You look so beautiful, so utterly fucked and sated and you didn't even come for him yet. He'll make you come, with his face buried in your sweet pussy.

He grips your chin, his hips stuttering against you. You feel him grow harder, throbbing, ready. “Say it.”

“Fill me. Fill me up, please,” you whimper and watch amazed how his face contorts and his eyes roll back as he fills you with his salty sweetness, his smooth, decadent cum, you watch him as he melts into you.

find my general masterlist here

thank you for reading, you'll get to be Dave's éclair when you comment or reblog.

find my Dave York masterlist here

[newtkive]

sweet tooth | luca drabble

just thinking about luca w a partner who has a crazy sweet tooth (like i do) and you never asking for a sweet treat but mentioning it nonchalantly but still not expecting luca to make you something.

first of all, your nickname would probably be sweet tooth or smth similar, let’s be so real. it would start by luca calling you that affectionately, but then it catches on w friends and family and you’re just dubbed sweet tooth.

in general, if you saw some type of dessert on a commercial or a tiktok that had you going ‘oohhh’ luca would scrunch his brows and almost seem jealous. “they used meringue, they should’ve used icing sugar.” he’d scoff judgingly and just see it as a challenge. after he would deem it doable, he’d store the information in his brain and literally make it better at work the next day.

just say the word and he will make it. telling your friends on the phone that macaroons sound good? cool, he wants to practice his piping technique with the biscuits anyways.

a japanese fruit sando? awesome he can make the sweet bread so fast, and the cream is no big deal. in fact he can just whip it up for lunch.

want a hersheys bar? first, that chocolate is trash don’t ever mention it to a european, especially your european chef boyfriend. second, he’ll make you the best stack of milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, and cookies n’ cream bar you’ve ever had (the cookies n cream one is so good, and you’d always say that and it would piss him off). anything to get hershey’s out of your brain.

you see those viral crunchy chocolate and pistachio filled croissants in new york on your phone and groan abt them? he can research the recipe and workshop it for a day or two in the restaurant kitchen, find a cute take out box to present it to you with to give you that full experience you’d get from the real bakery—you just gotta wait. even if it’s a couple days later, it’ll be waiting for you on the table, or pulled out from behind luca’s back as he walks through the door.

to be more specific, maybe at midnight when he doesn’t have work the next day, you guys are up watching a movie or just having pillow talk. saying smth nonchalant abt your cravings like “cookies sound so good right now luca.. don’t they?” your cheek is smushed against his bicep (which you’d much rather eat) so your voice is all cute and mumbled making his heart race.

“mhm.” he’d say. he’s got a lazy smile n a deep chuckle, voice laden w sleep since you’re the night owl and he’s just staying up to spend time with you. “you wan’ me to make some right now? that what you’re saying?” he’s clearly amused, knowing that you don’t expect him to but teasing you nonetheless.

“nono, it’s too late. you’re not allowed to leave anyways.” you would mumble again, arms tightening around his own in a hug. humming happily, a kiss from the chef would land on your head and you kinda forget about the dessert you want but luca doesn’t because he’s a chef and his literal profession is making desserts so why wouldn’t he?? when you want something he can easily make?? like his love language is giving, especially if it’s baking something for someone he loves.

the next day you’d still be asleep and wake up to the smell of cookies. savory was your forte in the morning most times but who could say no to starting their day with a yummy sweet when it’s presented to them, right?

it would take you a second to realize that 1. luca wasn’t wrapped around you like usual, etching a frown into your face, and 2. luca had to be the one making cookies. and he made the best cookies. you’d waste no time in grinning and hopping up to drag yourself to the kitchen. even more of the smell would welcome you, transporting you into some kind of dreamland—and if you really were dreaming you’d be so pissed bc the cookies being pulled out of the oven by your blond messy haired boyfriend look so fucking good right now (aside from the aforementioned boyfriend who is just as, if not more scrumptious than the cookies with only his flannel pants on).

arms would wrap around his waist from behind and luca would laugh muttering “hot pan” but you don’t give a fuck because you want him and those cookies now. if anything your arms tighten and you rub at his stomach sweetly from behind, a sign of affection.

“you made me cookies!” the grin would be so evident in your voice and so infectious that luca beams as he transfers the said cookies onto a pretty dish.

“and who said they were for you?” the tease is obvious and earns an eye roll. you don’t fall for it and he doesn’t expect you to, but you gently nip at his shoulder nonetheless. a dramatic ‘ow!’ comes from the tall man, laced with laughter. you snicker evilly, standing on tip toes to rest your chin on the same shoulder (no matter your height you still gotta do tiptoes bc that man is tall).

soon enough he’d plate the perfect chocolate chip cookies with a dash of sea salt that you spotted, and turn around. it would be your turn to be wrapped in a hug by strong arms, even lifted up a little just to hear your laugh. luca also likes to hear how surprised you get that he can lift you, even though to him you’re weightless.

it wouldn’t be long until you’re begging for a cookie even if he sets you on the counter, stern look as he assures you they’re still cooling off. like hellooo?? who cares?? but he distracts you with soft kisses on your cheeks, leading down to your lips until he pulls away and leaves you wanting more. the mumble from him that, “the cookies are probably cool enough now” has you forgetting your desire for him and replacing it with the golden saucers just waiting for you to demolish them.

hands on his shoulder, you’d firmly push him to the side and hop off the counter. the roll of luca’s eyes would be affectionate and endeared, since you were this excited for his cooking. you were his best customer after all.

your feet would have a mind of their own, floating towards the cookies like a cartoon man levitating towards a pie, lured by the aroma. you start ravaging like a hungry creature. one turns into three as you face your boyfriend, moaning with closed eyes at almost every bite inbetween telling him about what you two did in your dream (he baked you brownies laced with a golden syrup in your dream so you accredit your subconscious to manifesting this).

he would just stand there with a grin, hands on the edge of the sink behind him while leaning on it. usually dreams would be so boring to talk about, but luca swore he could stand there for an eternity just watching you eat his creations and talk about any dream you wanted to share with him.

of course, those cookies would be gone in two days. and in place would be brownies drizzled in a golden syrup that luca took home from work. the surprise would earn him a watery eyed smile, and he’d just shrug and say he had extra time to kill on the evening shift.

[brittle-doughie]

TBD!Y/N cookie gets hurt in an accident in the steamworks how would everyone react?

Croissant Cookie will try and bandage you up herself. It’s what the bestest of pals do!

Baguette Cookie will call for the proper medics to come and get you. In the meantime, she’s staying right by you and monitoring the condition of your injury.

That injury of yours does look dire, Schneeball Cookie will call for medical too. She would try to use that mallet of hers with light taps to see how bad it was…

What injury? See? You’re perfectly fine! Don’t be so dramatic now, Y/N Cookie. Now, are you coming with Timekeeper Cookie to her office or not?

[raz-writes-the-thing]

hi raz, hope you’re doing okay 😭 anyways I wanted to share a thought I had based on the ask about drunk headcanons: tennant’s doctor’s silly/flirtyness is amped up 200% when he’s drunk. like, he’s goofy and flirty all the time but it’s so much worse when he’s had a few. if time lords can even get drunk lmao

(also can i added as 🥐 anon? 🥰)

hi hi! im okay just very overworked atm rip

also- you will need to peel Ten off the furniture when he's drunk. He's just a sappy romantic who cries over how gorgeous the cells of a houseplant's leaves are. You pull him off the monstera and he's suddenly all the way in your face gasping over your eyes.

"Blimey- gorgeous eyes, you have. You know, I can tell you like me from the way your pupils di-*hic*-dilate."

"Of course, I like you, Doctor. We're dating."

"Oh, right. Forgot about that. Too busy looking into those great big pools of yours."

_

realistically though i dont think they can get drunk? but if they could, it would take,,, so many drinks. so, so many.

[elfenslieder]

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 7: Help the Bear

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: “If you ever see me fighting in the forest with a grizzly bear, help the bear, cuz that bitch gon’ need it.” Usually, you’d say this phrase describes you. You’re tough, and your enemies are the bear, but you might be more fragile than it seems. You might have to put aside some of your issues for the night, in favor of helping a friend.

Word count: 6,722

Content/warnings: Swears, punching, anger, deception, mob themes, crying, yelling, broken promises, mood swings, pet and nicknames, nice Bucky???, everyone lowkey walking on eggshells around decks, high stress, kidnapping, a bar fight, mentions of knives, misogyny

Author’s Note: I feel like this is a long awaited climax which lines up with Ch. 10 of YCMBWH and Ch. 3 of Handiwork. Anyway, I’m very excited for you to read it. I’d appreciate your feedback in all forms!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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It was early Saturday morning when you stood outside of your apartment building, waiting for Gio to pick you up like you had instructed Steve. He’d sent you several calls and texts since, but you stayed radio silent, until finally, it all stopped. You didn’t have doubt, though, that he’d come through, and you wouldn’t have to drive that distance in your current state. The chance of a crash was far too high. Hm, maybe you should’ve taken Steve’s car then. No, no, you weren’t that mean. You shamed yourself for even having the thought.

The sky was full of nice shades of pink, orange, and purple, the air lacking the humidity that usually came with the rising sun. It was the rainy season, and had been for the last month, but for some reason, the conditions seemed almost drought-like, since Tuesday. How uncharacteristic.

You were pulled from your thoughts by a black SUV pulling up in front of your building, and tried to squint to see who was in the driver’s seat. You had only seen Gio once before, so you assumed it was him by the dark hair you could just barely make out through the tinted window. Good, that meant it wasn’t Steve, even though the vehicle had an eerie resemblance to his. The trunk popped open and you threw your bag in. You weren’t going to be there long, anyway. All you had packed was a change of clothes for the game tonight, pajamas, and clothes for when you left in the morning. Simple as that, and it meant you could wear whatever you wanted right now, which was the comfiest thing you had: sweatpants and your old hoodie, despite the uncharacteristically warm weather.

You closed the trunk and hopped into the back seat, barely having the time to get buckled as the car lurched forward and started on its way out of the city. You looked through the window at the passing buildings as they turned into trees, on the route that was becoming familiar once again.

Bucky grumbled as he tossed and turned in his oversized leather desk chair, arising from the short sleep he had found there after a late night of business dealings designed to be front loaded for him to have this weekend open. He moved to stand, only for his feet to be met by something soft, that was definitely not the hardwood floors, under his loafers.

“Ah, fuck! Steve? What are you doing down there? Why didn’t you fall asleep on the couch, like a normal person?”

Steve groaned, rolling over just enough to look at his best friend above him. “Couch is too comfy. Floor keeps me on edge, just barely asleep. I deserve that. And now I’m up so we can go immediately. You’re welcome, I did this for you and your future wife.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped over the lump of blond and muscle on the floor, creeping towards Sam, who actually was on the couch, while grumbling, “We don’t know if she’s my future wife. We hardly have a label.”

Bucky flicked Sam’s ear for him to rise, met with an, “ow! I’ve been up since you have, boss man!”

Bucky rolled his eyes again, walking over to the closet in the corner of his home office and grabbing his and Steve’s go bags that they had packed the night before.

“Okay, we’ve gotta get there soon. Sam, you still good with holding down the fort here?”

Sam nodded, having sat up fully, unlike Steve, who was still laying on the floor, face down. “Yeah, although, I’m not sure about our buddy over there. Stevie, rise and shine,” he sang out softly.

Steve stood after taking a sharp, deep breath, his eyes red and face puffy just barely, that it looked like allergies from sleeping on the floor. “Okay, I’ll drive my car, and Bucky, you’ve gotta go get Decks.”

Bucky stopped all movement, going still as a statue from where he was double checking the contents of his bag, before turning around slowly. “I’m sorry, what? You want me to go pick up Decks? No. Your girl, you pick her up.”

Steve’s head dropped as Sam let out an audible wince at the whole thing, before explaining, since he knew Steve had very little desire to be verbal right now. “Boss, Decks hasn’t talked to Steve since Tuesday. Steve can’t go pick her up, I think it’ll just make her more mad. And look at him,” he gestured to Steve, hair in a mess and head still pointing towards the floor as he rubbed his eyes, “poor puppy is gonna be broken if he has to see her this early in the morning. She’s gonna eat him alive. At least you’ve got Honey waiting for you on the other side. Steve sure as hell doesn’t.”

The help from Sam had morphed into something a little hurtful, albeit true, but Bucky still huffed. “If Decks doesn’t want to see you, why’d she agree to a ride from us?”

Steve shook his head, finally looking up. “She didn’t. She agreed to a ride from Gio, who’s in Italy currently because you were trying to be a nice boss, or whatever. So you’ve gotta drive her.”

In an instant, Bucky’s features grew soft. He switched from boss mode to friend mode. “Okay, okay. Just…get going so you can start talking strategy with Bee and Peter early. I’ll pick up Decks and meet you there.”

Steve gave a short, grateful nod and grabbed his bag, heading out.

So Bucky found himself driving you like a chauffeur out to the farm as the early morning sun was lighting up the landscape. He was used to being up this early, and he was sure you were, too, but just in case, he’d brought some breakfast.

Once he’d gotten far enough from the city that he knew you wouldn’t try and escape once he revealed himself, he rolled down the partition. He could see you curled up in the corner of the backseat, almost cuddling, clinging to the hoodie you were wearing. It was all too familiar, as Bucky knew Bee had the same one, but the last time he had seen one of them was that time he was at your apartment and Steve had worn it. And that’s when Bucky caught a whiff. Unmistakable with how often he was around it. Steve’s cologne. The corner of his lip upturned slightly. Maybe there was still a chance for the two of you.

You were pulled from your daydream by the sound of the partition lowering, but didn’t move your gaze from the passing scenery. Maybe Gio was going to ask you if you needed a bathroom break in the long drive, or to make sure the air flow and temperature were alright, but you were surprised when you heard the voice in front of you.

It was deep, and a little familiar. “So, uh… you want a croissant?”

It was Bucky. You watched as he fished around in the passenger seat, grabbing a bakery box and handing it back to you, shaking it as a signal when you hadn’t grabbed it after a few seconds. You pulled it into your lap before looking into the rear view mirror and catching his slate eyes, watching you expectantly, yet cautiously, for a response.

You looked at the label on the box. It was a French bakery. One you’d never heard of before, especially not from the list of businesses Steve had rattled off to you when you asked what all he owned. Good.

You spoke up softly, not one much for words so early in the morning. “So’s this place yours?”

Bucky looked between your image in the mirror and the road, trying to figure out what you were referencing. “The bakery? Yeah, one of many places. And one of my favorites. Try the chocolate croissant if you haven’t had breakfast yet. It’s good.”

You nodded, sighing and gingerly opening the lid to be met by one of the best smells probably ever. You carefully pulled out a chocolate croissant and took a bite, holding in a moan at the deliciousness, but Bucky could see the enjoyment on your face, no matter how brief, due to the overwhelming weight of today sitting on your shoulders.

“Told you.”

You simply hummed in response, setting down the pastry and waiting to swallow to speak up.

“So, Bucket. I thought Gio was supposed to pick me up, but it looks like Steve lied again. Why you? Don’t you have better shit to be in charge of?”

Bucky was changing highways, so he kept his eyes on the road. He had half a mind to defend his best friend, but he didn’t want to open up that can of worms when you still had a couple hours of driving left. Plus, he knew it went farther than that, and it wasn’t technically his fight. Touching on your self-deprecation probably wasn’t a good idea, either. He’d leave that to Honeybee, much better versed in seeing you like this, he assumed. But from what he could tell, this seemed far from your normal self-assured, resigned state that he quite appreciated. He opted to comment on the dissection of your sentence that mainly had to do with him. That was probably a good domain to stay within for now. “You don’t have to call me that, y’know.”

You took another bite and shrugged. “What am I supposed to call you, then? James?”

“Bucky is fine.”

You let out a dry laugh. “No, that’s weird, what are you, a hick? -wait, actually, no. Forget I said that.”

Definitely not a good idea to make a distasteful joke such as that with where you both were going right now.

You shook your head looking down at the box. “But you still didn’t answer my first question.”

Bucky spun the wheel around the clover leaf and effortlessly merged on the open roads. “Gio’s on vacation in Italy, so you’re stuck with me. But don’t worry, Steve’s already on the road ahead of us.”

Well, he did what you asked, but you left his answer unacknowledged, besides a huff as you set the box aside. So much for trying to tread lightly.

“What? Decks, sweetheart, are you mad at me for bringing up Steve?” You crossed your arms and legs, glaring at Bucky and hoping it would set him on fire, sadly unsuccessfully, through the mirror. It was a good thing you weren’t a witch, anyway, though, because Bee would’ve killed you if it had worked.

“Ugh! What is up with that!? Everyone calling me ‘sweetheart?’ You, Sam, Steve! I’m not some little token helpless woman.”

Bucky opened his mouth defensively to reply, before closing it and furrowing his brows in thought at your full statement. “Wait a second, Steve called you ‘sweetheart?’”

You rolled your eyes yet again, and decided you weren’t done with that croissant quite yet, so you grabbed the box from your side and took another bite, not bothering to swallow this time before talking with your mouth full. “Yeah, like a few times, and then Sam did when he drove me home, and you did just now. What’s the deal?”

Bucky wished you weren’t sitting directly behind him, because he would’ve fully turned to look you in the eyes for this. He didn’t realize how serious it all was between the two of you, but he should’ve, considering how enamored he was, too, with his own girl. Obviously Steve was capable of the same thing.

“Swee- Decks. For Sam and I, that’s just how we were raised. I mean, Steve was raised the same way, but…” He stopped to think for a second so it came out the right way.

“Sure, you’re right, ‘sweetheart’ is a term of endearment for anyone in our community. Any guy will call pretty much any woman that, but not Steve. Ever since we were young, he refused. Said he was saving it. That it deserved to be used for someone really special. Someone with the sweetest heart. At least for him.”

You scoffed and questioningly shook your head. “Bucket, that is not me.”

He shrugged once again. “Maybe. And maybe that’s what you try to show, but to him it is. That’s you. He doesn’t take those things lightly.”

You grumbled, taking the last bite and licking your fingers before Bucky handed you a napkin. “I had it under control.”

He smirked, catching another whiff of Steve’s cologne when your arm reached up towards him. “Sure, ya did. Hey, when’s the last time you washed that hoodie? Surprised you wouldn’t wanna use that old thing as a napkin,” he said in a playful tone, laughter almost emerging from his voice.

Evidently you didn’t want to wash it. You wanted to keep it clean, let it have this scent as long as possible. After you crumbled the napkin, you threw it up towards him in the front seat before pulling your hood up.

Bucky swerved slightly, but not enough to cause concern. “Hey, watch it. I’m in charge of your safety up here. I’ve gotta deliver us both unharmed. It’s paramount.”

You’d just about had enough of this oddly chipper attitude from him. Bucky was very obviously excited to see Bee again and you couldn’t blame him. Their relationship was honest from the start. The small tinge of normalcy you’d had for a second started to wear off again, though, as that weight began to sink back onto your shoulders. You pulled your hoodie strings tight around your face, letting the smell and the comfort fully engulf you, and hoping to catch just a little more sleep before the long day ahead.

“Okay, whatever. Fuck off, Bucket.”

When you pulled up to the farm, you were gently shaken awake by someone who had climbed in the back seat with you so that they didn’t open the door you were leaning against and make you fall out. When your eyes fluttered open, though, you were met with a face you hardly recognized, causing you to spring into action and punch him right in the nose, not that hard, but also not that lightly.

The young man in flannel in front of you clattered into the back of the passenger seat, holding his nose, when you finally recognized him. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! You’re that kid who works for Bucky. Are you okay?”

He nodded, backing away and out the other side of the vehicle, scrambling to get away quickly, not sure if you’d hit him again, just based off association. “Yeah, yeah, all good.”

You could hardly hear him, voice fading as he ran into the house.

You took his words at face value, finally reorienting yourself to where you were now, seeing the green and gold landscapes and red barns outside your window. Right. Bee’s farm. For the bet. With the mob bosses. Gone was your concern as your angry face, or really more of an attempt of a flat affect came back.

You slid across the back seat, empty of the bakery box that was once there, and moved to get out of the door that was left open. When you emerged, you were met with the sight of Bee and Cherry picking through the pastries you had left behind, their nervously smiling faces lit up by the mid morning sun.

“Decks! Good morning! It’s so good to see you.”

Bee gave you a side hug you didn’t return and Cherry gave you a little wave before giving Curtis a little bite of her croissant. Gross.

Curtis thanked her with a kiss on the cheek before coming over to you and giving a bear hug, despite the way you tried to push him off. Eventually, you relented, relaxing in his hold, that of a long-time, good friend. He rubbed his hand against the top of your hood, messing up the hair underneath, before returning to Cherry’s side, grabbing his own pastry out of the box.

A small “hi” was all you could muster up to use to greet the three of them, but it was enough. You pointed over your shoulder to indicate you were going to grab your bag from the trunk, finally pulling the hood off your head and turning around. When you pivoted, though, you were only met with Steve there, your bag over his shoulder like it had been so many times before, his glassy eyes taking you in.

His voice was small and scratchy like you’d never heard it before, like he’d been silent for weeks, as he mustered up a, “Hey, Decks.”

You promptly spun back around and stomped into the farm house and up the steps, passing Bucky on the way to your usual room. When you opened the door, though, you were met with the sight of a young man sitting on your bed, ice against his face and a jolt when he saw you bust in.

“Uh, hi Miss Decks. Can I help you?” You groaned at the weird formality, but were in no mood for something like this to throw you off on such an important day.

“Yeah. You can get out of my room. You’re gonna share the other spare with Steve. No questions, okay?”

He simply nodded, beginning to grab his stuff as you stripped the bed of its sheets. He was actually complying very nicely, so you felt bad for being so assertive with him…and punching him in the face.

“So what’s your name and what’s your job?”

He stopped and looked at you, confusion and fear riddling his face. “I-I’m Peter, miss. I was assigned to stay here to help with shipments and watching over miss Honeybee. I just go wherever they say. Sometimes do tech, sometimes intelligence. Really anything.”

You nodded and hummed, pulling a new set of bedding out of the top of the closet. “So what exactly does that make you, Peter? Fourth in command?”

He cocked his head to the side, zipping up a bag, before helping you put on the new sheets. “I guess I never thought about that, but no. Technically I think I’d be fifth at least.”

You nodded along, grateful for the acquiescence that seemed to run through this organization and his kindness you were evidently not returning. With all the stress, though, you didn’t even really have the time to wonder who was number four. He finished gathering everything in his arms and sprinted out the door, across the hall to Steve’s room, before realizing there were three guest rooms and he might be able to take the last one, depending on where Bucky planned to stay. Out of indecision, he just dropped everything at the end of the hallway and went back downstairs, leaving you to lay over the comforter in contemplation. Peace wasn’t something that would come to you today.

It was early afternoon when Cherry finally came up to find you, not the person you would’ve expected to do so. She knocked on your door with a sweet smile.

“Hey, Decks. I know you’re probably in game mode, but Bee thought it might be a good idea for you to come over to my place. We can pick you out a nice outfit for tonight. Eat something, maybe? It’s my understanding you haven’t had anything since early this morning and apparently, from what I’ve been told, ‘the good stuff’ is waiting for you at my apartment. And it’s no boys allowed for this afternoon. You get to do whatever you need to get in the zone without distraction. How does that sound?”

You groaned before you nodded, launching yourself up out of the bed quickly to a seated position. “Yeah…that’s good. I mean, I already have an outfit, but that’ll be good. Let me just hit the bathroom real quick and I’ll meet you in the driveway, okay?”

She nodded with another soft smile and went back down the steps.

Soon after she was gone and you’d gathered what you needed, not even bothering to consider how your bag had made it to the corner by the doorway of your room, you shuffled over to the bathroom in your socked feet and washed your face. When you were all dry, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. It was you, but it was different. Not unrecognizable, but maybe barely.

Exhaustion laced your features. Dark bags had settled under your eyes from the lack of sleep. You were in a perpetual state of puffiness from all the crying you’d kept to yourself, yet everything just looked…sunken. Like, saggy with sadness. You smiled, trying to boost your mood, make it feel like you weren’t going through hell. Trying to put on a brave face for your friend and her world. Everything this whole week was a lot, and as much as you were trying to ice out the terror, you could feel it seeping through the cracks. One final smile and one final wipe of your nose, and you were ready to go, galloping down the staircase and out to Bee’s truck where she was already waiting for you. You slid up in the seat, squeezing Cherry between the two of you, and went on your way towards town.

When you got to Cherry’s apartment, there were bowls of pasta sitting on her small dining room table that must’ve been for you. Ah yes, that was probably ‘the good stuff’ she was referring to. Cherry immediately went to the kitchen to grab bowls and utensils, handing them to you and Bee, as you took in the scent of the the still-steaming arrangement.

Despite your feelings toward everything Steve lately, the gesture and nostalgia still warmed you. The three of you sat, as you savored every bite in silence, Bee and Cherry holding soft conversation on the side and respecting your wishes until the meal was done and you felt just a little bit better. A little bet fuller in your heart and your stomach.

You didn’t have to worry as Bee and Cherry assured you that they’d clean everything up, directing you towards the bedroom where you’d found something else sitting there, waiting for you to find it. It was a record player, just like the one in your apartment. The one you’d promised Steve you’d play the song on before you’d fallen asleep to that old movie. And next to it was a stack of vinyls, some you recognized as the same as your collection, plus some new ones you’d mentioned you liked before, but never got the chance to acquire. On the stack was a small sticky note that said:

“You got this, Decky. -SR”

You couldn’t help the way a smile crept onto your face at his thoughtfulness. Sure, you were mad at him, but this was far from a cheap gesture. It was just what you needed to fully lock in, and maybe raise your spirits to get through tonight and do this for someone besides yourself. You put on a record, mood brightening by the minute, and began swaying through the room until Cherry and Bee came in to meet you.

Their faces lit up seeing your slightly improved mood, this moment acting like a brief reprieve from a day constantly growing in intensity. The two of them began rifling through the closet, pulling out a bunch of outfits for you to try, and throwing them into a pile on the bed. At least you had your music.

When Cherry’s shift at the bar was set to start, the three of you drove over, you wearing a short, flouncy tennis dress that was far from what you were used to. The clothes you had packed for this evening were just jeans and a tee, but according to your friend, that wasn’t good enough, so here you found yourself in something completely out of character. At least it had shorts underneath.

You were about an hour early for the match, but the bar was already buzzing with patrons. As Cherry went to clock in, you could see the group of guys already sitting in the booth, talking in hushed whispers until you and Bee approached. Bee instantly gravitated towards Bucky’s lap with a kiss, and you were going to sit next to Curtis, but he stood up, passing you with a nod and heading straight for the bar with Cherry. So much for having a buffer.

You were left to sit next to Steve, your already nervous state making you shake and avoid eye contact, whether you wanted to or not. Bucky sat up, saying something about checking with guards and Bee followed him, leaving the two of you alone, sitting too close for how much room the booth had now gained.

You took in a shuddering breath, looking around the crowded room, seeing the pool tables and envisioning the event that was about to go down. You felt so isolated in that moment, before you felt a large, warm hand on your thigh.

“Decks, sweetheart. You there? You alright?” You looked up and to your side at Steve, the seclusion of the tall seats allowing him to be the only one who could see the tears in your eyes. Here you were, all dolled up at the hands of Cherry, about to ruin it, but that was the least of your worries. The pressure was about to crash over you and Steve needed to seal those dam walls before a flood broke out.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Why don’t you and me take a second to go into the break room or something? We have the time.”

You simply nodded and scooted out of the booth. Steve grabbed the hat off the top of his head, placing it on yours to hide your distraught face from any possible prying eyes before grabbing your hand and rushing the two of you across the dance floor.

He’d seen most of your range of emotions. He’d seen you playful, he’d seen you focused, he’d seen you happy, he’d never get enough of that, he’d seen you mad, probably more than enough for a lifetime, but he’d never seen you quite like this, with tears threatening to spill over.

Before you knew it, you were on an old couch in a back room you had never seen before, crying into Steve’s chest as he held you closely, hand rubbing your back, and shushing you gently.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You got this. Hey, look at me. You can do it.”

You pulled your hands up to wipe your eyes as Steve searched the room to find you tissues, dabbing away the wetness as you sniffled.

“Tell me what’s going on, sweetheart. What can I do to help? What’s on your mind?”

You tried to speak, but you were gasping for air. The farthest thing from your mind was anger at him, or the pet name. You just wanted comfort. Steve began demonstrating deep breaths in front of you, helping you to calm down until it worked. He started to blow a cool stream of air towards your face, drying more of the wetness, and rubbing his large, warm hands up your arms, redirecting your focus to the gestures. Finally you were almost fully settled and ready to talk.

“I’m just so…scared. Sure, I’ve dealt with things that were high-stress before, but never with this high of stakes. I didn’t ask to be dragged into all of this, but now the whole mess hinges on me. This entire thing. Legitimate lives are riding on me. That’s a lot.”

Steve nodded along. He got it. This was hard, and it was a lot of pressure, especially since it all came crashing towards you at once. He wished there was something he could do to fix it, to take some of that off of you, but he couldn’t. He felt like he was the reason it was all hitting so hard in the first place. All he could do was try and keep you pumped up, and ready to go for tonight. He knew you had a game face, maybe he could help you put that on so you could beat these pricks once and for all. Maybe that would be enough for him. He knew you were giving him a chance, just for tonight because Bee was mostly what mattered, and he was going to make the most of that opportunity while it lasted.

He ran his hand over your hair, pulling you close one last time and planting a kiss to your hairline before sighing and slapping his hands on his knees to get up.

“Alright, up we go. C’mon.” He held out his hand for you, but all you did was sit there and look at him confused.

“Unfortunately, you don’t have all night, Decky. Stand, or I’m dragging you.”

You must not have moved fast enough, because before you knew it, your floppy body had been pulled to its feet and Steve was slowly manipulating each part. He kicked your one foot back, widening your stance, and bent each arm, curling your fingers into fists. He moved in front of you, holding up his hands, flat and open, just like boxing practice. He bounced between his feet on the ground, shifting back and forth.

“Alright, go for it. Let’s see what you got.” You huffed, landing a weak punch against his palm, and Steve laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Let’s go, Decks. I know you’re better than that. Harder. Get angry.”

And you did, you punched harder, you punched faster, and you were relentless, raging in a rain of fists, jitters long gone and replaced with a fire of fury. Fuck Cole. And fuck Lloyd. And fuck this whole fucked up mess of misogyny that threatened the livelihood of an innocent woman.

Steve grabbed your fists, snapping you out of it as you stood there, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. “There it is. Use that.” He looked at you intently, imploring you to be yourself, the confident, driven, capable woman he knew. You were back, if only for a few hours, but that was all he needed.

You settled yourself with a single breath, hands falling to your sides after you smoothed your dress and grabbed Steve’s hat back off where it had fallen onto the couch when you threw your head at his chest. You stood there with your eyes closed for a second. “Steven, do I still look okay? Bee said I have to look hot to distract these pieces of shit, and I’d hate to know that I’ve got a hair out of place. Please fix it before I go back out there.”

Steve smiled, just a little one he knew you couldn’t see, as he took a walk around you, tugging down the back of your dress and gently combing his fingers through your hair, taking his thumbs to swipe over your cheeks and fix the slight run of makeup from your tears. He gently grabbed the hat out of your tight clutch, playing with the brim. “You, uh…you want my hat? Would that make you feel better? Preserve an air of mystery and make you not have to look directly at the ‘pieces of shit?’”

You revealed a small, soft smile he thought he’d never see again and nodded, opening your eyes as he placed it back on your head, straightening it just so. He smiled just as sweetly when he saw you, actually saw you for the first time in awhile. Then, you weren’t sure what was happening as he squatted down in front of you, closing his eyes just like you had before.

“Okay, now it’s your turn to fix my hair before we go back out there. You messed it up when I gave you my hat.”

You strutted back out into the bar, face stoic, and stride powerful, your skirt flowing from the speed. Steve was a few steps behind you, surveying the area to see Bucky and Bee had returned, chatting with two men by the pool table.

You clocked them as well, not recognizing the two, but seeing one in an oddly crisp brown jacket, common for the area, but usually more beaten up on the folk around here, and the other in a knitted, collared shirt, nose pronounced by the neatly trimmed mustache underneath. Far too fancy for a place like this. These must be the men.

You walked up to Bee’s side, noticing her tight-lipped smile. “Decks, this is Cole, and this is Lloyd. He’ll be playing against you.”

You simply nodded, taking a step back. These men obviously had no desire for handshakes, only giving you a curt nod as well, as Lloyd stepped away, pulling a pool cue out of a case.

You rolled your eyes under the brim of the hat. Of course this rich prick had his own cue. You walked over to where Steve was at the rack of cues on the wall, looking at each and evaluating which one looked the best after years of wear and tear in the old joint. He pulled one down, wordlessly asking if it worked and you nodded, handing him a little block of chalk.

“Will you hold this for me throughout the game? And a glass of water please?” He nodded and headed to the bar, ready to be at your service.

When you returned to the table, negotiations had already been made and Lloyd was starting. That already put him at an advantage, but it would be fine, as long as he couldn’t get all the balls in on the first try.

His break was successful. Sharp, forceful, and precise: something that seemed mimetic of his pristine and obnoxious appearance. With two striped balls in the pockets, he went for the next one, and the next one, of your favorite suit. It was bad enough that you had to play solids, but he was surprisingly doing well. On his attempt for a sixth sink, though, he missed, giving you the chance to step in.

You took a sip of the water in Steve’s hand, rubbing the tip of your cue with the chalk in his other. You took a deep breath, leaning over the table for your first shot. It was the furthest thing from your mind, but Steve, and hell, everyone around, took notice of you bending over for it. Steve’s eyes quickly averted, though, going straight to Lloyd and Cole, as they were shamelessly gawking, doing what you’d said they would, and hopefully losing their if focus because of it. Your jaw ticked. You were angry, and you were focused, and you were fed up, and you were ready to go. There was no way you were going to mess up. You took your shot. Sunk.

That was followed by four more, easy angles, at least for you. You didn’t even look at the two men your were competing against. The only other person you could see in your zone of focus was Steve, if that, mostly because he was holding the materials you needed to win. Anyone else, anything else, was the enemy. Blocked. This was about winning, just like the years of swindling this game had set you up for. Seven hits, seven successes, one left, so you called the pocket. It was intense, and your face was unreadable. You took the shot, not even looking to see it go in, because you knew it would. Instead, your face was turned towards the two out-of-place men, your lips slowly growing smug as small crowd that had gathered around the table erupted in cheers.

You dropped your cue on the table, waltzing up to Lloyd as Bee stood in front of Cole.

You pointed a finger into the expensive fabric on the man in front of you and looked up into his eyes, dark like the deepest, deadest ocean.

“A deal is a deal and you just lost. Now hop off from my friend’s and all the other businesses I hear you’ve been harassing. Aren’t you guys all about your word?”

You were taken aback by the dark chuckle you were met with. “Oh, cupcake, that’s cute. You think I got this far on my word? No way. You may have won this fool’s game, but you all have yet to start mine.”

After gesturing over to Cole, he put his hand over his chest, dramatically gasping in a mocking manner.

“Oh no. Where’d your precious cheese curd go?”

Your head whipped over to the bar where you’d last seen him, but were met with the sight of an empty stool. Curtis was missing.

At this point, you didn’t care about the scene you were about to make, because that crossed a line. Curtis hardly had anything to do with this entire situation and they kidnapped him? Fucking why? Before you could even register what was going on, you lunged for Lloyd, trying to punch and scratch at him, but only hitting air. Something had caught you in the middle of your movement, picking you up, leaving you kicking and clawing at nothing, but you still had your voice. Curtis was innocent, and like a brother to you, and he didn’t deserve whatever this was. So you screamed, flailing in Steve’s arms, you’d know his arms and the smell of his cologne anywhere, but that wasn’t really what you were focused on right now.

“FUCK YOU, LLOYD! FUCK YOU AND THAT UGLY ASS MUSTACHE!! FUCK YOU FOR BREAKING A PROMISE!!!”

Out of the corner of your eye, even as you were backed away, you could see Cole shift and hold his hands up. “I swear. This wasn’t part of the deal. I was just doing what I was told. I didn’t know about any of this.”

You knew how much it sucked to be left out of the loop, but you still didn’t feel sorry. Cole was literally trying to commandeer the farm. He was far from innocent. You wiggled and turned as much as you could in Steve’s tight hold.

“And fuck you, too, Cole!! You ruined chocolate milk for me!”

The last thing you could see before the crowd descended was Bucky delivering a swift blow to Lloyd’s jaw, followed by him grabbing Cole by the collar.

Your attention was pulled to something else, though, by Steve’s hands on either side of your face once he had set you on a bar stool. “Decks, Decks! I need you to look at me.”

His nose was almost to yours. “I need you to watch Cherry. I have to go and check on the guards. See what happened out there and if Curtis is really gone. You need find out what happened in here. Take this.”

He slipped something in your hand that you had no idea how he concealed in the simple button-up denim shirt and jeans he was wearing. “Take out anyone who comes at you that you don’t know.”

You looked down at what was in your grasp: a small throwing knife. Without waiting a second, you snapped into survival mode, jumping behind the bar with Cherry. No one was around the two of you right now, luckily, as a full-on bar brawl had broken out.

You turned your body towards Cherry, but your head was on a swivel watching your surroundings. “So tell me what happened. When did Curtis disappear? Did you see anything?”

She frantically shook her head. “No, a-all I know is that some girl asked me to pour her a drink. She had a bunch of specifications, and when I made it and turned back around, Curtis was gone, and so was she.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What did she look like?”

“I don’t know? Kinda short, dark hair? Annoyingly fit? Now that I think about it, kinda like the female version of the guy you were playing pool against. That’s not a coincidence, is it?”

You threw your head back. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence. It was probably Lilian.

“Ah, shit.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: The moments between Decks and Steve here were much softer than I’d anticipated them to be, but there are so many different ways to act under stress, and I think it means a lot that she’s not necessarily able to stay in her normal cold manner of upsettedness when there’s so much at stake beyond just her. Things change when others are depending on you.

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13

[yoshimura110]

Yandere TBD

[scummynami]

Hello! Can you write something about Giliou and Mayron Lombardi x fem Reader? The twins from "I'll be the matriarch in this life"?

The Lombardi's Pearl

Lombardi Twins × Reader!

Well, I like to think that Reader is older than the twins and is another one of their cousins. She's that cousin who you'd only see on special family occasions because she travels too much.

The twins definitely adore their older cousin. Who wouldn't? In their opinion, she's cool and free spirited- definitely unlike any other lady of their era.

They don't mind having to share her with their other cousins, but they do draw a line when their other cousins are keeping her attention for too long.

They find it hard to share already with their things and trinkets. Adding the fact that they have to share their dear older cousin? It's an absolute nightmare.

Unfortunately, this sharing nonsense got worse for the twins. As they ran up to their older cousin who is standing outside by the carriage, having a chat with the twins' mother, they caught a glimpse of the man standing intimately close to [name].

His burly man hand on her waist, smiling sickeningly sweet upon her, and those eyes that seemed to drip with honey- they couldn't stand it. They hated it. They absolutely loathed it.

Something had to be done, both of them knew it. And it involves getting rid of that man she so sweetly introduced to them as her fiancé. Whatever.

[movie-plush-baby]

Self Aware!Croissant Cookie X Reader

(There’s a bunch of Self Aware Cookie Run X Reader content already on Tumblr, but uuuuhb I love croint.)

(Also, clearly, you can tell I was inspired off of DDLC here, except Croissant doesn’t, you know, do Any Of That.)

For some reason, a single Cookie Run character was given consciousness.

And it was Croissant Cookie. Maybe it was because she was an agent at the TBD, or her connection to Timekeeper, but she became the one Cookie Run character to be aware.

At first, she didn’t want to reveal it. She didn’t want the player to freak out, and she could deal with the loneliness.

Even if it was pretty lonely without anyone else to talk to.

No, she could deal with it. She was strong, wasn’t she…?

And then, you stopped playing the game for a while.

Little known fact: when the player closes the game, everything goes dark. It’s an endless void of nothing. No sound.

When you finally start playing the game again, she finally drops the act.

Whether you’re scared at first or not at all, she still forms an attachment to you.

Afterall, you are, quite literally, the only person she can talk to. Everyone else is just mindless video game characters doing whatever they’re programmed. She has memories of interacting with them, yes, but she can’t talk to them no matter what. They never respond.

She likes watching you play as her! It’s a little strange, but she got used to it. Bumping into obstacles doesn’t seem to hurt that badly, so she’s fine! Don’t worry!

Croissant’s affection meter goes above 1,000 eventually. You’re not sure if that might cause problems in the game somehow, but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything, soooo…

She loves being tapped on in the lobby and exploring all the different places you can put her in. Being tapped on is like, petting her. She likes your touch!

She’s a little disappointed whenever you start playing other cookies and not her. But she never really says anything unless you really take your time and don’t play her in a really long while.

She kind of misses being able to build and fix things. Sure, there’s things around the map, but she’d rather not mess up the game more than she already does. Sometimes she does manage to make little things, but man, she misses making contraptions.

Croissant misses the TBD a lot. Since she can freely move around, you can play her in other trials (very not meant for her). It’s the closest thing to being able to walk around in the TBD again if you play other TBD cookies. If you do so oh my god she’ll love you so much.

Sometimes, she finds herself idly wondering if Timekeeper can go give her a vague hint to a problem, before realizing that she’s still the only one alone. It hurts.

She’s grateful for you, but she hopes she’s not a burden. Is she asking for too much? Is she acting too clingy? She doesn’t want that.

Press your phone against your chest and like, let her snuggle into you. But don’t fall asleep or you might like crush or overheat her home or something-

She likes being included in your activities! Since basically everyone brings their phone with them everywhere, she can just watch you do stuff. Set your phone down on a table or something with Cookie Run on, let her watch you like eat at a cafe or something.

don’t eat cookies in front of her though

Oh goodness

She still wants to help all the time, but she’s not sure how to do it considering she’s stuck in your phone. Hell, she can’t even leave the app. So she tries to give you advice a lot.

Let her ramble to you about time travel and planes, she’s going to be doing it a lot.

[brittle-doughie]

Top 10 most obsessive/possessive Cookies in your opinion, go! (excluding White Lily because she would be at the top lmao)

Bro, you did WL dirty lmao.

10. The Tears of the Ocean - Sea Fairy Cookie

While not as easy to aggravate compared to the other Y/N Cookie club members, Sea Fairy is still a legendary and can easily sweep away competition if she chooses to. Fire Spirit is the only cookie she’ll be quick to get aggressive with.

9. Loyal Until the End - Caramel Arrow Cookie

Being a watcher meant Caramel Arrow couldn’t bring herself to harm others so easily, she’s instead incredibly protective of you and WILL draw her bow at threats. Laying a hand on you is a sure fire way to catch a arrow from her. Affogato Cookie is on-sight.

8. Protective Judgement - Dark Cacao Cookie

Like Watcher, like king. Dark Cacao will always have you by his side, he insists. There was something about you that he held dear, something that he needed to protect. He won’t tolerate any mistreatment from you, it’s a quick punishment for the perpetrator. You have your own spot in his quarters, it was a more preferable option to him then having your own room.

7. The Persistent Priestess - Pomegranate Cookie

Pomegranate Cookie’s secondary objective is you, to bring you into the darkness. Your soul was nothing she’s seen before, it was pure, it…was precious. She’ll curse any cookie that gets in her way of having you on the same side, she’ll take anything from you that she can get, with or without your knowledge.

6. The Dancing Danger - Lilac Cookie

Do not be surprised if the cookies you know start falling ill, it may be a sign that Lilac Cookie is watching. He’ll always say it’s for your protection, you never know when these cookies might turn on you, he’s just dealing with a problem before it becomes one. He’s only making them sick, it’s not like he’s straight up crumbling them….yet.

5. The Alluring Beauty - Kumiho Cookie

Normal: Not really being affected by her charms made you a breath of fresh air to Kumiho Cookie, she took a major interest in you with this fact and will try whatever she can to get your attention. Just don’t mind the cookies around you missing their cookie livers, it just meant they were getting too close to you. :)

Heartbreak Route: Kumiho is much more persistent, she had never felt true love until you had been honest with her that day. It aches her heart to know that she passed on your feelings, believing it was because of her charms. She’s more volatile like this, taking any interaction you have with others as potential threats to her goal. Has particular dislike for Blueberry Pie Cookie.

4. Your Best Pal - Croissant Cookie

She has stuck by your side since your first day at the TBD. Croissant Cookie was so happy to see you earn your honors as a handycookie, it meant that you two could spend time together as you fixed things alongside her engineering prowess. It…really blinded her to the fact that other cookies like Coffee Candy or Baguette Cookie had taken a liking to you too, something that she aims to fix by being your best and ONLY pal. Keeps you away from Timekeeper Cookie for obvious reasons.

3. His Only - Fire Spirit Cookie

Fire Spirit Cookie has butted heads with Wind Archer and Sea Fairy Cookie when it comes to you, he needed you more then they did. Fire Spirit..isn’t exactly that popular with other cookies, so having you as a friend was a godsend to him, that a cookie like you would want to associate with him. It’s something he treasures deeply, but tries to pass it off as him going easy on you. Wind Archer and Sea Fairy Cookie can try all they want, but he’ll be extinguished before he’ll allow you to be pried from him.

2. Stinging Shock - Scorpion Cookie

Lilac Cookie at least doesn’t end cookies right away and gives them a chance to regret their decision to be close to you, Scorpion Cookie…won’t be giving them that luxury. If she deems a cookie too much of a hassle, she’ll just remove them from the equation. By the time the cookie has realized what hit them, it will all be too late as she watches them crumble away…she dabbles in poisons, not cures after all. So cookies can have fun finding that cure, if there is any to begin with…

1. Baroness of the Sea - Black Pearl Cookie

Normal Route: Why would Black Pearl Cookie want to sink a cookie so…precious looking? Normally, she’d have you at the bottom of the sea by now, but…she couldn’t bring herself to do this to you…what was this about you that has her feeling like this?! This confusion only makes her frustrated, so she’s keeping you with her until she can pinpoint this feeling. She hopes you enjoy your new home in the depths with her…

Heartbreak Route: “You hastily closed the door before locking it, you knew it would do little to protect you from her, but you needed all the security you could get. You avoided the window, there was no telling if you looked out that window, that two glowing eyes would be staring right back at you in the waters. You could hear the faint sound of crying in the distance, the waters were unhappy, she was unhappy. She knew you were here, it was why she hadn’t just annihilated the Lower City already. She was just waiting for the right opportunity to drag you into the darkness of the water’s depths with her…”

At least Black Pearl Cookie is limited by the water, if she wasn’t, she’d be a true cookie to fear for the readers

But since it wouldn’t complete the ensemble today, there’s at least one cookie that will stop at nothing, absolutely nothing, to make sure you’re hers.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

You saw it coming

0. The Undying Flower - White Lily Cookie

I had to do it to ya, I’m sorry Anon

Escape Difficulty: Impossible

You sealed your fate after spending time with White Lily Cookie regardless of AU, she’s your biggest cheerleader and unofficial girlfriend who’s quick to poison rivals at the mere chance of them getting friendly with you. She’s near impossible to lose and tends to just appear somewhere close by whether you’re on your own or with other cookies.

She’s an ancient cookie for a reason, few cookies will survive a fight against her, so it’s for the best that your so called “friends” back off from you before she taints their very strawberry jam.

Her only limitation is her other ancient friends, but they’re on thin ice before her paranoia gets to her and she joins in on the conversation. She has earned the title of Y/N Cookie cult leader for a reason.

[starbunii]

SAYAKA ANGST 🫡🫡 POR FAVOR AMORE MIO MON CHOUCHOU

IM LITERALLY GARBO AT ANGST BUT I TRIED <33

sayaka x reader gender neutral, anyone can read!

probably ooc, im so sorry :( sad attempt at angst- i also finished this at like 12 am keep that in mind okay love you <3

+ ° . ୨ ♡ ୧ . °

You and Miss Sayaka Maizono had been practically inseparable for years. The two of you had met in elementary school, she, being the more outgoing of the two of you, had started talking to you on the first day of school, and you had been best friends ever since. You had always encouraged each other to follow each other’s passions, telling each other to follow the song written in your heart, even when it seemed difficult.

Eventually, the two of you had less and less time for each other. She had been busy with her idol group, and you had to get working on your regular studies. As she figured out melodies and corresponding lyrics that encapsulated the true feelings of her heart, you were stuck at your desk with algebra.

Seeing a call coming from her was rare these days, so you practically jumped out of your seat when you saw her name displayed on your phone. Wasting no time to answer, you jumped onto your bed.

“Hi, Sayaka!” You cheered, trying your hardest to ignore the way your voice cracked. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Y/n! I have some amazing news, but I think it’s best if I share it in person! Are you free later tonight?” Her peppy voice filled you with optimism.

“Yeah! I mean, hell, I’m free right now, if you wanna come over.” You chuckled. “I’ve been stuck doing homework while my family’s out and about. It’s been so boring.”

“Whatcha working on?” Sayaka hummed.

“Math.” You sighed, hopping back in your chair and spinning around a bit. “I really don’t wanna do it.”

“I get how that is” She giggled. “I’ll be over in just a sec, okay?” With a quick press of the button to end the call, Sayaka prepared herself to make her way over to your house.

Giddy with excitement, you sprung up from your seat, picking up your room just a bit and bringing in snacks for Sayaka. It had been so long since the two of you had hung out, you wanted to make it truly special. Every moment with her felt like a little piece of heaven on earth. Every secret you two shared, every step taken together, every little moment; it was all so precious.

Admittedly, you had developed a small crush on the aspiring pop star. Her upbeat attitude was alluring, along with her looks. God, was she gorgeous. Her long blue hair that flowed freely in a gentle breeze, the way her soft, pink lips rested in a slight pout. How her eyelashes were practically able to hypnotize you in a single blink. You sighed, allowing your mind to wander. Romantic scenarios were the only thing that could fill your head as you thought about her. All you could think of was her.

A knock at the door drew you away from your thoughts. You scrambled out of your chair, rushing to the door, face warmer than an oven. You damn near fell on your face, opening the door with a wide smile.

“Hi, Sayaka! Come on in!” You giggled, opening the door a little wider for her. She waved, grinning from ear to ear. She wore a pastel pink sundress, which had pastel blue lace lining the bottom. “I like your outfit.”

“Thanks! I like yours.” She chuckled. You looked down, only to be met with your hello kitty pajama pants and matching top. You felt your face heat up even more from embarrassment, but Sayaka’s giggles made you feel less ashamed.

Eventually, you two made it to your bedroom. She took her usual place on your bed, politely indulging in a small bowl of chocolate you had left for her. The two of you had made the usual small talk; grades, friends, music, school. You didn’t have much to talk about, as your evenings were mostly filled to the brim with studying, listening to music, and the occasional movie. Her life, however, seemed so exciting. She had a small idol group, already getting scouted by huge companies wanting her talent. She had already performed at thousands of venues and had millions of streams on lopotify.

“But…regarding my music career-!” Sayaka grinned, way wider than you had ever seen it. “I have some really big news!”

“Oh, really? Bigger than getting scouted by Big Hit?” You teased. She just giggled and nodded.

“So…you know that school, Hope’s Peak?” She bit her lip. You just nodded. “Well, they reached out to me, telling me that I had the talent to become the Ultimate Pop Sensation…and knowing that…they said I could enroll there! This is a huge step!”

“What…?” You frowned, the feeling of bitter disappointment seeping through to your heart. “You’re gonna go to another school?”

“Well…probably! It’s a new opportunity, and I’ll be able to work on my talent daily!” She cheered. The word talent made something feel…off in your stomach. You just nodded, your eyebrows furrowed. “What’s with the long face?”

“I just…nothing.” You fixed a quick smile on your face. “Nothing at all! I’m really proud of you! I’m gonna miss you, ya know. Promise we’ll still hang out?” You outstretched your pinkie for her to make that promise. She just nodded, intertwining her finger with yours.

“Promise.”

You let go of her hand, taking in a shaky breath. You only had a certain amount of time before she had to leave. Only a certain amount of time before she forgot all about you. Before she left you to rot with all the other people below her level. With such a time limit, you decided quickly that it was only fair to tell her all the desires you had.

“Um…Sayaka?” You averted your gaze to the floor, the feeling of nervousness swallowing you whole.

“What’s up buttercup?” She chuckled.

“I…have something to tell you too.” You frowned, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers. She just nodded, unsure of what to say. You took in a deep breath, in and out, in and out. It was like you needed a manual to function. A knot in your throat formed, as though you were actively trying to stop yourself. “Sayaka…Sayaka. I like you. Like…as more than a friend. I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to go to the park and hold your hand! I wanna take you out to fancy restaurants and kiss! I want to date you. And I know that’s selfish, and I know you’ve got bigger fish to fry…but that’s what I want. That’s all I want.”

“Oh…Y/n…” She sighed shakily. “I’m…I’m so sorry.” She gently patted your knee. “I just…I don’t feel that way about you, y’know? You’re an amazing best friend! A wonderful best friend! But I couldn’t see myself being anything more than that with you…you know?”

“Oh.” You bit your lip out of embarrassment, feeling hot tears drip down your face. “That’s…I’m sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have never said anything.”

Eventually, Sayaka went home, leaving an awkward melancholy looming over you. The pit at the bottom of your stomach only seemed to grow. Was it selfishness? Embarrassment? Pain? Your questions only seemed to grow.

Sayaka never kept her promise. In fact, one could argue she outright ignored you when she coincidentally spotted you in public. It was awkward and embarrassing, the tension was thick, in a negative kind of way.

Then, the end of the fucking world struck.

She still didn’t keep her promise.

starbunii 2024 — all rights reserved. do not redistribute or translate to any other platforms -- thank you for reading !

[hopelessdreams-bianhablog]

I want to write for da tbd but no one gimme idea WAAAAA-

I know there is still bunch of requests --I am working on them dw-but I really want to write for croissant,timekeeper and string gummy QAQ-

someone,just throw me idea I will love you forever AHH-