#it's still not a fuckin cake walk though

[russeliarat]

The amount of people that think that the animal care industry is easy work makes me want to shoot my brains in. Because it's very much not. I'm in my final year of animal management in college with plans to do a zoology undergraduate and entomology postgraduate before being released somewhere into the wild underpaid jungle that is the animal care industry. I work at an exotic animal rescue the next district over as a student placement. Sometimes I consider just quitting and taking fine art instead.

Animal care is a very physically and emotionally taxing subject. At college, I have several incredibly hard STEM-based exams - one of which is my genetics exam I'm doing in less than a week. I barely passed my biology and welfare exams and I'm in one of the (if not the) highest classes in the department and I'm a high achiever in my class. I have to haul around heavy animals and their equipment, fully clean out literal sheds we use as enclosures for outdoor animals, chase around rabbits and guinea pigs that need checks, all while hauling around crates of food and cleaning equipment that weighs about half my body weight. I've become both so weak and yet so weirdly muscular from practical lessons over the few years I've been on the course. Not only that, but I frequently get bitten and scratched at work and I work with venomous snakes and abandoned exotic animals with claws as long as their arms.

Not to mention the emotional aspect destroys me. There's a death either at work or at college almost every week and it's a gamble whether it'll be the ferret who has cancer, the frog who somehow trapped her own head between the glass doors of her enclosure, or the young female rats who were living the good life and just suddenly died. And that's just in college. I work with sick and injured animals twice a week at work, and one of the bearded dragons that was severely underweight and refused to breathe but seemed to be getting better just.. died suddenly and no one told me for 2 whole weeks. And because our boss has to store the bodies for autopsy, we literally have two freezers full of dead animals that he's been way too busy to actually autopsy.

Not to mention how underpaid the industry is, so I might not even be able to pay the debt I'll get from university in my lifetime and I'll probably struggle to afford being able to bring my boyfriend over to the UK for us to get married and for him to escape his family. I might not be even able to afford using my degree because I'll have to work several minimum wage jobs to afford living independently from my parents.

So no Sharon from 6 doors down the road, I'm not living the easy life and just petting animals all day. I'd rather be doing that than literally anything I'm being made to do to pass my course. I have to know every single fucking molecule of every animal species and how it interacts with one another for one module, all while writing dissertation-length essays for another, and learning how reproductive technologies work for animals' genetics for another. I'd literally rather be dead. I've tried to be dead because of this course, Sharon, it's not all sunshine and rainbows and fucking smiles.

Russ

[codtrashsammy]

Cute Meet?

Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))

Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.

Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 

What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.

Simon was enchanted at first glance.

Ghost decides he could be, too.

A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.

Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.

“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.

“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.

He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?

After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.

“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.

Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.

But they both decide you’re theirs.

[agxxb]

sweet treat .𖥔 ݁ ˖

joel miller x f!reader

summary: to celebrate joel getting a promotion, you decide to surprise him with his favourite pudding — but that’s not the only dessert he has in mind.

warnings: smut. pre-outbreak joel. unprotected!piv (wrap it before you tap it). oral (f receiving). soft dom!joel. dirty talk. vaginal fingering. pet names (sweetheart, honey, baby, pretty girl). established relationship. food mentions. swearing. [1.3k].

As soon as the phone call had ended, you stood from your spot on the sofa and hurried to the kitchen in excitement. A large grin broke out on your face, the crinkles by your eyes becoming more prominent the more you thought about what your husband had just told you.

When Joel had informed you of his promotion, you had let out a squeal of joy, pride filling your chest at how happy he was. You always supported him, just like how he did with you; His success felt like your own.

Heading towards the kitchen counter, you immediately began taking the ingredients out of the cupboard to bake Joel’s favourite dessert — a Texas sheet cake. He had once told you it reminded him of when he was growing up, his mother having baked it often for him and his young brother, Tommy.

You began mixing the ingredients together, knowing the recipe off by heart with how many times you’ve made it. The smile didn’t leave your face the entire time, pure rapture filling your entire being. Joel worked so hard and it felt amazing to finally see that pay off.

Just as you’d finished the preparation, the front door suddenly opened and your husband’s voice called out. You turned around in surprise, though far from complaining.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Joel greeted, the biggest smile on his face as his eyes landed on you. His southern drawl had always made you weak in the knees, and that hadn’t changed in the six years you’d been together. “What’cha doin’?”

He walked into the kitchen, pulling you into an embrace. He placed his chin on your head, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. You smiled against his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your cheek against his chest. His heartbeat sped up, just like it did when you first met.

“Making you a little congratulatory dessert,” you replied, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his Adam’s apple. “I am so proud of you.”

“About time, huh?” he joked, pressing a kiss to your head before pulling away. His smile was still present, eyes bright as he looked at you.

Joel brought a hand up, resting it against your cheek. His thumb gently brushed against your skin before leaning down, pressing his lips against yours. They were chapped, dry from spending the day outdoors, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable. Kissing Joel would never get boring, no matter how many times it happened.

You tried to pull away to say something, but his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, keeping you in place. You breathed out through your nose, sliding your hands up his chest and resting there. Walking forward and moving you backwards, Joel led you to lean against the kitchen counter. You jumped up (with his help) and he stood in between your legs.

The kiss got heated pretty quickly, roaming hands clutching at any and every part of each other. Joel pulled back momentarily, allowing you to catch your breath. Your fingers carded through his hair, pulling as he nipped and sucked at your skin.

Letting out a moan, your eyes closed as you basked in the pleasure. “Fuck.” Joel moved down, licking at your collarbone before lowering himself to his knees. “Baby, please.”

Joel’s fingers deftly unbuttoned your shorts, pulling them down your legs and dropping them on the floor beside him. You spread your legs, giving him all the access he needed and allowing him to see how wet you were.

“Fuckin’ soaked, Sweetheart,” he groaned, voice deep and husky, full of want and need. “And all for me…”

“All for you.” You nodded, chin to chest as you looked down at him. “Please. Need it.”

“Yeah, pretty girl?” He didn’t look away from your pussy, eyes taking in what his mouth soon would. You nodded, urgent with the gesture. “Need me to make it feel better?” You nodded once again, though stopped halfway through the action as your head fell back and a moan left your mouth.

Joel’s tongue licked from your entrance all the way to your clit, sucking and moaning into you. “J-Joel…” you stuttered, hands in his hair once again and pulling. “Need to- Need to put the cake in… cake in the oven.”

“Got my dessert right here, Honey,” he mumbled before sucking on your clit once again. You let out another moan, a chain of them following and seemingly never ending. “That’s it, Sweetheart… let everyone know who’s making you feel this good. Want you to fucking scream my name.”

Just as he said that, two of his fingers pushed into you, curling and instantly finding that spot that makes your legs shake. You did just as he wanted, moaning his name as tears welled up in your eyes.

Joel moaned into you every time you pulled at his hair, moving closer into you, like he was willing to either drown or suffocate. Eating you out was one of his favourite things. He never wanted to stop. He would do it all day, every day if he could.

“Gonna cum.”

Immediately, Joel pulled away. You opened your eyes, looking at him in both annoyance and desperation. Just as you were about to open your mouth in protest, you watched as his hands moved down to his belt, undoing it in record time.

Dropping his jeans, he helped you down to your feet, turning you around to lean your forearms against the counter you just sat atop. You soon felt his tip against your entrance, moving back to try and get him to move.

“So impatient…” he tutted, a teasing tone taking control of his words. “What do you want, baby?”

“Want you. Please.”

“How could I refuse when you’re asking so nicely.”

And with that, Joel pushed his hips forward. Your head fell, chin against chest once again, and your eyes fell closed. The pleasure was instant, toes curling against the floorboards and hands stretching out to find anything to hold onto. A groan left Joel’s mouth, reverberating from deep within his chest, and his head tilted back as your warmth surrounded him.

“Fuck. Please. Please move.”

Doing as you asked (and not being able to hold back any longer), Joel pulled back before pushing back into you. “So fuckin’ wet, Sweetheart,” he moaned out, his movements speeding up and the sound of skin colliding echoing throughout the house. You could both hear how wet you were for him, the sound filling your ears with every thrust.

His hands dug into your hips, your head rested against the marble counter, and the buckle of his belt clinked as it hit against his zipper. All you could feel was him and the growing pit of burning pleasure deep within your stomach. Tears streamed down your face, your cheeks red from being unable to catch your breath.

You gasped, one hand reaching back. Joel took it in his own, holding it and interlocking your fingers. Grunts left this mouth from behind his clenched teeth, eyes locked on where you were joined. You were both sweating, the Texas heat not helping and the air-conditioner being rendered useless.

“Joel,” you moaned, tits bouncing with every slap of his hips against your ass. “Gonna cum. Please. Please can I cum?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, wanting to see how long you could hold it before he gave you the green light. However, after only a few seconds, he, too, felt like falling over the edge.

“Go on, honey. Cum for me.”

You let out a cry, body shaking from the power of your orgasm. Your eyes squeezed closed and your fists balled up, nails digging into your palms to ground you. With a few more thrusts and the feeling of you squeezing him, Joel came with a grunt, pushing his hips into yours and letting himself get as deep as possible. His forehead rested in between your shoulder blades, face red and breathing heavy.

“Fuck.”

“We just did,” you responded with a short laugh, taking a moment to catch your own breath.

“Is this a good time to mention that I also got a pay rise?”

[sturniolo-rat]

Cake Eater’s Delight

Matt Sturniolo X Reader

A/N: here’s your anal fic as promised! I spent way too much time describing yoga positions. For this, I am extremely sorry.

Contains: smut, anal, oral, butt plugs

TW: BEARS! Also, the term "Butt Slut" You give me a simple request, and I will do the absolute most

Y/N is wearing yoga pants that accentuate her ass. Matt is intent on fucking it.

Today is self-care Sunday, and Y/N just finished making a strawberry banana smoothie with extra protein powder for her boyfriend, Matt. It’s seven a.m., and she has the whole day planned, but first, she has to get him up and ready.

“Wakey wakey, My sweet boy.” she chirps eagerly, holding the smoothie to his face. 

“Oh god.” he groans, wipes the sleep from his eyes, and sees how hyped Y/N is. Still very disoriented, he says, “I see you’re having a good morning, Baby, but what time is it?” 

“It’s seven a.m. and I’m super excited for our early morning nature walk!”  

He sits up and sighs. “The fuckin’ nature walk.” Matt was actually pretty enthusiastic about this last night when he agreed to it, but not so much this morning. It’s too early, and he just wants Y/N to come back and be the big spoon for the next two hours. The smoothie, however, is immaculate, and he made her a promise. He summons all of his strength and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He sits facing Y/N and says with a smile, “I’ve never been more pumped for anything in my life!” Y/N gives him a bone-crushing hug before skipping off to get him the outfit she picked for him yesterday. Matt can’t help but stare at her booty as she makes her way to the closet. Those damn yoga pants get him every time.  

Half an hour later, they arrive at the closest California state park. Matt is warming up to the idea of this walk. He really does love nature, and having a little stroll in it is certainly something he would do as self-care. “Maybe we’ll see a bear!” Y/N squeals. 

“I love bears. They're so fucking big and dumb.” He really does hope they see a bear. His excitement over seeing a dangerous animal in the wild isn’t his fault. He has a very serious condition called white man curiosity. Bless him and his family. 

As they walk the dirt trail, Matt tells her facts about all the animals and plants they encounter. At some point, the trail leads them to a very colorful part of the woods filled with flowers. The trail has slowly been getting narrower, so Matt is now walking behind Y/N. “Baby, If I sincerely told you that I accidentally body-swapped with my sister, would you believe me?”

He’s deeply confused by the question, but he has an answer for it, regardless. “I would probably ask you a question that only you could answer first.” he pauses to laugh at how silly she is. “Would you believe me?”

“Most definitely,” she responds with unnatural quickness.

Matt is taken aback. “Why so certain?”

“Well, now that we’ve had the conversation, I don’t think you’d say you were body-swapped unless it actually happened.”

He’s getting very invested in the conversation now. “I’m not worried about it because you only really get body-swapped with people you dislike. So I don’t think there’s any danger of this happening to me and my brothers.”

“I don’t hate my sister, but we are polar opposites, so I see body-swap potential.”

“Be careful not to get sucked into any body-swapping hijinks, My love.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.”

Suddenly, he grabs her arm and stops her in her tracks. Y/N turns around to look at him, but all she sees is a beautiful array of flowers. Matt had been behind her, picking a bouquet of flowers as they talked. He moves the flowers from in front of his face and hands them to Y/N. “It’s a thank-you gift. I truly am having an amazing time today.”

“This is insanely fucking sweet. Thank you so much, Baby.” She leans in to give him a soft peck on the cheek. “I think we should start heading back though. We’re getting kinda far out.” They had gotten lost in each other's company and didn’t notice that they had been walking for an hour and covered at least 2 miles of the 5-mile trail.

Matt tears his gaze from Y/N’s face to take in their environment. “Goddamn, we’re like way out in the fuckin wild!” He can tell Y/N is getting somewhat uncomfortable with the thought of being so deep in the woods, so he holds out his hand for her to take and starts to walk her back down the trail. 

Y/N lets go of his hand and taps him furiously on the shoulder. “Matt. Matt, it actually fucking happened. Look!” she whispers in his ear and points into the distance. 

“A bear!” Matt yells.

“Hush!” she hits him hard on the head. “Don’t be the idiot who gets killed because he screamed at a bear. Just get the camera out.”

He fumbles with his backpack but realizes he didn’t pack it. He was so sure they wouldn’t come across a bear. The pictures and videos he takes on his phone will have to do for their next vlog. Once Matt has all the bear material he needs, they continue down the dirt path, tip-toeing very quietly.

When they finally reach their car, they’re exhausted, sweaty, and gross. Matt, however, is also rocking a semi. He’s been walking behind Y/N for hours now, watching how her ass moves. They’ve just started experimenting with butt stuff recently. He’s been obsessed with her backside ever since. He can't get the image of the pink hello kitty butt plug sticking out of her ass out of his mind. The drive home is pleasant and gives him time to calm down. Matt doesn’t want his horniness to get in the way of the day Y/N has planned. 

They arrive home, and Y/N flops on their bed. The walk was way longer than it was supposed to be. She’s anxious to tell Matt about the next activity she has planned, but she needs a quick break to hydrate. Matt comes in clutch and brings her the Stanley cup she filled up that morning but forgot to bring. She sits up and takes the cup. “Thank,” she says as she takes a sip. “God!”

“Don’t thank God. Thank me, Honey.” he winks as she absolutely chugs her water. There’s water dripping from the sides of her mouth running down her neck and breasts. Fuck she can even make drinking like a feral caveman look sexy. When she finishes, she sets the cup down, and Matt’s dick jumps in his pants. She looks like she could be in a wet t-shirt contest. He’s really fighting for his life right now and needs an activity to distract himself. “Alright! Get up, Baby. It’s time for whatever’s next on the list.” He hopes it's something lame and calming like meditation or maybe some silly facial skin routine.

“Okay, I’ll go get the yoga mats and bring them to the living room.” She hops up from the bed, fully recharged and energetic as ever. “Oh, yay. I’m gonna bring my new yoga ball, too!”

“Oh, good!” he says quite insincerely. He should have seen this coming. She’s wearing the yoga pants she reserves for actually doing yoga. This is going to be torture. He tucks his boner into his waistband and waits for Y/N in the other room.      

When meets him there, she kicks her yoga ball into the corner and gives Matt a big hug before setting up their pink and blue yoga mats. She’s so happy to be spending the day relaxing and playing around with him. Her ponytail whips around behind her as she spins to face Matt. “Did you know it’s actually recommended that you do yoga or stretch after long walks? The walk wasn’t meant to be long, but how lucky it is that my plan works out.” She’s speaking extremely quickly due to her excitement.  She pauses for a breath but begins talking again before Matt can respond. “Are you ready?” she asks expectantly.

“Of course, My love. Your plan is perfect.” 

They stand on their respective mats, and Y/N realizes that Matt has probably never done yoga in his life. “Let me show you five poses you need to know before we start.” He takes a deep breath and prepares for a face full of outstretched booty, but to his surprise, she sits down crisscrossed. “We’re gonna start off with the Sukhasana. Just sit down, touch your pointer fingers to your thumbs, and close your eyes.” 

“Seems easy enough,” He says and patiently watches as she changes pose. 

“Then we’re gonna transition into the Adho Mukha Svanasana. Just get on your hands and knees,” she demonstrates as she talks. “Place your hands down in front of you, shoulder-width apart. Then walk your legs back so your hands are under your shoulders, and your knees are under your hips.”

“That’s a lot of words to explain what I believe is the very simple-looking downward-facing dog.” Yup. This is exactly what he expected. It’s awful and stressful, but it’s also absolutely fucking glorious. Her booty is a piece of art crafted specifically for him by the hands of God. He tears his eyes away and looks at her face as she once again, changes her pose. 

“Oh, shut up. I’m trying to sound like a yoga professional,” she says with a small chuckle. “Anyway, the next pose is the pigeon pose.”

“Yeah, super fancy and professional.” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes.

“Moving on!” she says, letting out an exasperated breath, “From the Adho Mukha Svanasana position, you’re gonna lift your left leg up while keeping your other leg straight and your foot arched.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Matt whispers loudly. The pose essentially looks like she’s throwing it back on the floor. Her bottom is round and cute, and all he wants to do is reach out and squeeze it. That’s a lie, actually. He wants to smack it. Hard, very fucking hard. He wants to grope her fat, meaty thighs and worship her body. She’s talking, but he can’t hear her. He’s in a trance, and he needs to do something about it. “I’m sorry, Sweetness. I really am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Y/N gets up and looks at his face, very concerned. “What’s wrong, Baby?”

He still hasn’t looked up at her face. “It’s your ass.” He licks his lips. “I have to fuck it.”

Y/N moves so that she’s directly in front of him and grabs him by his jaw to make him look at her. She whispers in his ear, “I know.” Matt has been lusting after her all day. There was no possibility that she wouldn’t notice. "Time to destroy my root chakra."

“Fuck yes!” He pulls her into a rough, toothy kiss. His lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against hers. His hand reaches up to massage her breast, and she moans into his mouth. She needs him. Needs to see more of him. Y/N tugs at the hem of his shirt. Matt takes the hint, breaks the kiss, and removes it. She puts her hands on his chest and rubs them down his abdomen. He’s so beautiful. 

In one swift motion, he wipes her hands away. She whimpers and gives him a pathetic, needy look. “I know you want to touch me, Baby. I know.” He says as he makes his way over to get the yoga ball. “But right now, I need you to bend over this ball and show me that pretty, pretty ass of yours.” 

Y/N does as she’s told. She loves it when Matt bosses her around. He pulls at her pants aggressively, and she doesn’t understand what he’s trying to do. Then she hears a tearing sound and feels the cold air on her bare bottom. “You just ripped my favorite yoga pants!”

“Quiet!” He barks. “I’ll get you new ones.” He says as he forces her panties down around her knees. His hands part her cheeks, and he can’t believe what he sees. He has been lusting after this woman all fucking day, thinking he was being a pervert. Little did he know that Y/N had her butt plug in the whole time. He takes a closer look. It’s not her favorite Hello Kitty one, but the one with the blue jewel on the end. Matt’s eyes widened; it’s their second biggest one. Y/N anticipated this, and she always comes prepared. 

He kneads both of her cheeks as he asks, “Oh, Sweet girl, did you plan this? Was this part of your little self-care day? Did you need to be a little butt slut for me to feel complete?”

“I do.” She whines. “Last night, I got so horny thinking about you playing with my ass.”

“I can tell, Sweetheart. You used the big blue one. We’ve never even touched that one before. Were you training your ass for me?” He sits on his knees behind her so his face is level with her rear. Matt takes his time biting and kissing her ass. She lets out a hiss when he starts to play with the plug, pulling it out only to put it back in again. Every little movement has her gasping. He keeps going until she’s too loose for the stretch. He slaps her on the ass with so much force he leaves a handprint, and she lets out a wail. 

“I know we haven’t done it before, but do you want to take my cock?” he asks.

“I want to try,” she says in a shaky voice.

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I swear.”

“I promise I’ll be gentle, but first,” He shoves his pants and boxers down and takes his cock in his hand as he walks around to Y/N’s front. “I need you to lube up my cock. Can you do that for me, Baby?”

“Mhmm, I can.” She replies eagerly and opens wide. 

Her mouth is wet and warm around his cock. He holds her hands behind her back so she has to deep-throat him to reach his base. The dirty, sloppy sounds coming from his thrusts in and out of her throat are music to his ears. He needs to hear more. He grabs her by the ponytail and fucks her face harder. He wants to hear her choke and gag. She doesn’t mind it. She’s just happy to be of service. Her mouth is so fucking perfect, but he needs to stop before he cums. He pulls out, and she gasps for air. “You okay? Catch your breath, Baby.” He gives Y/N time to orient herself. 

“I’m okay.” She gives him a big smile. Only sluts smile like that after choking on cock.

“If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me, and I'll stop.”

Y/N nods her head, and Matt takes his spot behind her. He pulls the butt plug out very carefully and sets it aside. Her pussy is so wet and leaking, but he ignores it entirely, except to say, “You’re dripping down your thighs, My love.” he smiles to himself as he taps his cock on her ass. “You’re soaking your new exercise ball,” he says as he slowly pushes his tip in. When he finally pushes in past his tip, it burns and hurts, but she loves the sensation. She keeps thinking that it can’t get any longer, but it just keeps going, and the stretch burns until, eventually, he gives her all of him. Her asshole clenches hard, and it feels so fucking amazing, but then it’s burning and hurting right at the entrance, and she whimpers as he pulls himself out halfway. He’s going so slow, and he wants to speed up so badly. Her asshole feels so much better than he imagined it would. He knew she would be tight, but he didn’t know how deep she could take him. She can’t fit him all the way in when he fucks her pussy. It feels so nice to be able to give her everything he’s got. 

“You can go faster now.”

“Oh, yes.” he bites his lip and speeds up to a respectable pace. 

“No, faster. I need it faster,” she says desperately. He picks up the pace, and finally, he starts to feel like he’s properly fucking her. She’s moaning and whining because it feels so bad and so good at the same time. It’s a very confusing sensation, but all she knows is she wants to cum so badly. Usually, Matt likes to make Y/N cum first, but he doesn’t know if anal will make her cum, and he just can’t resist cumming in her ass. He stands her up so she’s up against his chest and reaches in front of her to rub her clit. This is what she needs, what she’s been missing. He loves the sounds she’s making. He doesn’t even notice he’s been drilling into her faster and faster. Y/N is letting out loud yelps with every thrust. If anyone overheard them, they would think she was in agony. 

“I’m gonna cum, Baby. I want you to try to cum with me. Can you do that?” he says, breathing heavily.

“I can try.”

“What do you need, Love? How can I help you cum?” 

“Please pull my hair.” His hands are around her ponytail before she can even get all the words out. He pulls so hard she’s forced to look up at the ceiling. 

“Like that?”

Her eyes are rolling to the back of her head. “Fuck, yes! Just like that! I’m gonna cum!” 

Matt puts more pressure on her clit and feels her cumming. It feels different from when he’s in her pussy. The thought of having had every one of her holes pushes him to the edge, and he releases himself into her asshole. 

Y/N’s knees buckle, and she collapses onto the exercise ball and pants. He wants to ask her if she’s alright, but he’s distracted watching his cum leak out of her ass. “Fuck,” he leans over to pick he up bridal style. “Let's get you into a bath, okay?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but that’s actually next on the list.”

“Perfectly planned, My love.”

Masterlist

@rafecameronsbitch @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @mrsmiagreer @lovergirl4387 @gdsvhtwa @ashley9282828 @j-worlds-blog @stephanienwf @achrisgirly @draculaura123 @abbypost @Cind2224 @crazychrisl0v3r @ryli3sworld @bkwrld @pinkishpearls @pepsienthusiasts @stunza @chrattstromboli @sturnssmuts @angelic-sturniolos111 @69isabella69 @maryx2xx @sturniolo04 @bigbeefybitch @klaus223492 @r93339 @sturnzsblog @spotconlon55 @robins-scoop @junovrsmp4 @sturnlover4eva @blahbel668 @lilahnowheretobefound @luxy-nyx @tuffsturns @m0r94n @sturnstvs @pepsicolapussy333 @maddyslifesstuff @dogblof @honeymoonxxz @xplr-sturns-e-m @hayhjelmstad15 @thetriplets3 @y0urm4m @mattyblover07

[floreads]

baby blues • carmen berzatto x reader

pair: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

synopsis: sugar's childhood best friend throws her baby shower, and is reintroduced to carmy.

a/n: while researching the character ages for this piece i discovered that nothing really makes sense timeline wise for the siblings’ ages, so just for the sake of this fic i decided that carmy is 28, reader is 29, and sugar is 31 <3 also i did not proof read this lmao so sry for any mistakes !

warnings: anxiety/panic attack, lots of swearing lmao, mentions of hooking up but nothing explicit, lmk if i missed anything else <3

word count: 3.2k

"Okay - yo, be careful with the cake!" You run - or wobble, as quickly as your heels will let you - over to the dessert table, pulling your dress down as you go. Running the show in this outfit wasn’t the most comfortable, but you don’t have time to go home and change before the event is set to start. The venue staff wouldn’t let you come in any earlier than 1:00 PM to get everything ready, despite your numerous pleas. 

The two-tiered dessert wobbles slightly, as Richie and his colleague from the yet-unopened The Bear restaurant make the short but dangerous trek from the venue door to the row of long tables. 

"Relax, Y/N, we got it," Richie waves you away. "Marcus here is a professional." They place the cake slowly, but precisely, onto its display stand.  

"It's not him I'm worried about," you give him a playful squint. "Everything has to be perfect for Sugar. She deals with enough, having to see your ugly ol' mug every day." 

You turn away from him before he can fire back, and greet Marcus with a quick nod. "It's nice to finally meet you, Marcus. Beautiful work on the cake." 

He smiles back at you. "Of course, only the best for Sugar's baby."

That's all you wanted - the best for Sugar's baby. That's why you took it upon yourself to plan Sugar's baby shower. It's something you'd been planning basically your entire lives - ever since you two were old enough to steal your moms’ magazines during sleepovers. You two had planned your entire lives out together, and though the details have shifted over the years, there was one constant through it all: you’d always have each other.

Growing up, you and Sugar were virtually inseparable despite her being a few years older than you. Wherever one went, the other was soon to follow, like a shadow. You never really got along with your own parents, and as the only girl in her family, Natalie welcomed additional the feminine energy. Gone were the days of Mikey and Carmy ganging up on her when you were around. It was, and still is, you and Natalie against the world. 

You glance at your watch with an impatient sigh. 2:36 PM. You have less than half an hour before all of the guests arrive, and 54 minutes until Pete arrives with Sugar. You've been there for the last hour and a half getting everything ready for Sugar and her unborn baby, and yet there was one thing missing. Carmen Berzatto hasn't come with the food yet. 

"Does anyone know where the fuck Carmen is?" you ask, not to anyone in particular.

As if he was waiting for his cue, Carmy barrels through the door right then, breathing as if he’d just run the mile in gym class. Two women you have yet to meet, presumably from his restaurant that you’ve heard so much about, are right on his heels, helping him wheel in a cart full of food trays and serving utensils. 

“Fuckin’ finally. It’s nice of you to join us, Carmen.” You exaggeratedly throw your hands up, walking over to him. This was not the reunion you’d hoped for after not seeing Carmy in years, after what you’d dubbed the incident - one that not even Nat knows about. 

“Finally? We’re only,” he checks his watch, “ten minutes late.”

“Ten minutes?! Try an hour and ten minutes,” you scoff, looking at him incredulously. 

His eyes widen, and you are slightly taken aback by just how blue they are, though you don’t know how you could’ve forgotten. His face reddens and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the intensity of your gaze or his embarrassment at being late. Before you can think too much into it, he’s turning to look at Richie.

“What the fuck, Cousin, you told me she said 2:30.” 

Richie turns to you. “I thought that’s what you told me to say!”

The biggest sigh, possibly of all time, leaves your body and you cover your face. “No, Richie, I told you to tell him to be here by 1:30.” 

“You know, I seriously fuckin’ doubt you said that, but maybe next time you should just call him yourself.” Richie counters. 

“God fuckin’ forbid I accept help when you offer it! But don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson, ya fuckin’ jagoff,” your teenage accent comes out for a second, as always ends up happening when you argue with Richie. 

Carmy, who knows the way you and Richie fight all too well after witnessing it through your teenage years, steps in between you two. “Alright, alright, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter who said what anymore. What matters is we’re here now and I need to set up this food ASAP.” He turns, giving you his full attention. “Y/N, where can we put this food?” 

You send Richie one final glare before turning and leading Carmy to two long tables at the front of the room. “You’ve got these tables right over here. The venue gave us some food warmers, I’m sure you can figure out how to set those up better than I can. Be fast, Berzatto, we’ve got less than an hour before Sugar gets here and if anything is out of place, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass.”

“Heard, Red.” He gives you a curt nod and moves to grab one of the trays of food before pausing so slightly that you know no one noticed - no one but you. He recovers quickly though, and it’s as if nothing happened. 

Your pause, however, is much more notable. No one has called you Red since Mikey died. Though the nickname was just the result of an unfortunate at home, box hair dye job at 15 (you were experimenting with your look - they can’t all be winners, okay?), it solidified you as an unofficial member of the Berzatto clan. 

“U-um, I guess I’ll just leave you to it then,” you stammer out, busying your hands with your phone to hide their trembles. As if she can feel your discomfort, the girl with the long braids tucked into a scarf walks forward, between you and Carmy, and offers you her hand to shake.

“I’m Sydney, by the way, Carmy’s CDC at The Bear,” she smiles. “And this is Tina, my sous,” she gestures to the smaller, but older woman next to her. 

You take her hand and introduce yourself, mentally berating yourself for not introducing yourself earlier. It’s not like you to be so rude - the stress of planning and executing a surprise baby shower for your best friend paired with the unnerving feeling of seeing Carmy for the first time since Natalie’s wedding must be getting to you. It may not be your place, but you’re still a little mad at him for skipping out on Mikey’s funeral and dropping contact with you altogether.

“I’m sorry! I swear, I’m usually not this all over the place. This whole thing’s got me goin’ a little crazy,” you gesture around the room. “Y’know, I’ve been meanin’ to get over to The Bear - it’s all Sugar’s been able to talk about lately. Besides the baby, of course. I was outta town for friends and family night - visiting my grandparents.” This was a lie - if Carmy was going to ignore you, then you were going to ignore him. Though, you know you’ll end up in the establishment one of these days now that Sugar is so involved. 

“Well, I’m sure Carmy and Natalie would love to have you in one of these days.” 

Your eyes flit to Carmen while you give Sydney a tightlipped smile and nod. You try not to let the awkwardness between you and Carmy show when your eyes meet. While you’d normally make some snide remark about how Carmy doesn’t have room for you in his life anymore, you remind yourself that today is about Sugar - not whatever problems you have with her younger brother. 

You take a deep breath and clap your hands together, wearing the kind of artificial smile that only the cheerleading protagonist of an early aughts teen drama would give. “Maybe someday!” 

Sydney and Tina exchange a look that you pretend not to notice.

“Well, I’ll just leave you guys to it then! The guests will be here any minute, so I’m gonna do one last walkthrough. Everything’s gotta be perfect,” you mumble the last part to yourself.

3:27

You’re chewing on your bottom lip, eyes bouncing between the venue’s big analog clock and the party’s guests, consisting of The Bear’s staff and the entire Berzatto clan (besides Donna - while Pete was in charge of the invites, you’d made sure that he didn’t invite her) when your phone vibrates in your hand.

Pete: The eagle is flying.

Your eyebrows furrow.

You: wtf are you talking about dude???

You: can u text me like a normal person rn, im about to have an anxiety attack

Pete: Me and Nat are outside!

You look up, eyes wide.

“Everyone, shut the fuck up! Hey, shut the fuck up! She’s here!” You shout, gesturing around wildly. It’s a little hard to get the attention of the loudest family of all time. Thankfully, Carmy sees you struggling and steps up to the front of the room with you.

“Yo! Sugar’s here!” His voice fills the venue, and everyone gets into place in front of the overflowing gifts table. “C’mon,” he motions you over to the front of the group with him. You can hear Sugar before you see her.

“Seriously Pete, where the fuck are you taking me? I’m way too pregnant to be blindfolded right now. Plus, there’s shit I gotta do at The Bear.”

“We’re almost there, relax,” Pete says with a clear smile in his voice as he opens the door and guides Sugar into the room.

The room erupts with an out of sync “Surprise!” and Sugar rips her blindfold off immediately, looking around the room in disbelief. 

She turns to Pete and hits him lightly on the chest, “What the fuck, Pete? Is this my fuckin’ baby shower?” 

He leans in to give her a kiss with his hand resting on her baby bump, and the moment is so sweet you have to look away. 

“Yeah, Nat. As much as I’d like to take the credit, Y/N was the mastermind here.” He gestures over to you and Sugar runs over to you, squealing.

The two of you hug as tightly as you can with the baby between you as she thanks you repeatedly. “I can’t believe you did all this!” You give her one last squeeze before letting her go.

“You know I’d do anything for you, Sugar. Plus, I gotta make sure baby Berzatto knows how much I love them already. I’m campaigning hard for that Godmother spot.”

“Psh,” she waves you off. “You already know you’re a shoo-in. Who else am I supposed to have as the Godparents for my first born if not you and Carmy?” She scoffs and moves on to greet her brother. 

The relief you feel as Sugar gets smothered with love by her family and friends is visible on your face as you make your way to the small bar and pour yourself a generous glass of wine. Now that Sugar was here and having a good time, your job micromanaging was done. You see Richie make his way over to you, pouring a drink of his own. 

“Ya did good, kid,” he gives you a pat on the back as he watches Sugar and Tiff animatedly talking. 

“Yeah, no thanks to your attempts at sabotage,” you joke. What was that with you tellin’ Carmy the wrong time?”

“I refuse to accept that, there’s no fuckin’ way I gave Carmy the wrong time. Anyway, if you two would just grow the fuck up and talk to each other-”

“Okay, don’t even fuckin’ go there, Richie,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You know damn well I’ve tried to talk to him. If there’s anyone you should be lecturin’’ about this, it’s him, not me.” You pause to finish your drink. “Believe me, I’ve fuckin’ tried.” You pour yourself a new drink, smaller than the first. No matter how much you want to be drunk right now, you need to keep a clear head in case anything goes wrong. 

“I don’t know what that kid’s problem is,” he gestures to Carmy, slightly shaking his head. “It’s like tradition for the maid of honor and best man to hook up at a wedding. Who fuckin’ cares?”

Your eyes widen and you aggressively shush him. “Wha- keep your fuckin’ voice down, asshole! How the fuck do you even know about that?!” You whisper-scream at him, positioning yourself in front of him instead of beside him. 

“Chill out, Cousin, Carmy told Mikey, and Mikey told me,” he shrugged. 

“Mikey told you- so you’ve known this whole fuckin’ ti-” your sentence tapers off at the sight behind Richie. You can feel your heartbeat speed up and your hands begin to shake. “What the fuck is she doing here?” You march off towards the entrance, on a mission.

Richie’s eyebrows pinch together as you stomp away. “Who the fuck are you talkin’ about?” He turns, watching you approach the one party crasher that could ruin this day: the Berzatto family matriarch. “Fuckin’ Donna,” he mutters to himself.

Before you can reach Donna, she’s already shouting into the room. “Oh my God, look at this beautiful Berzatto family event. Oh - everyone’s here!” You can practically hear the incoming drama in the tone of her voice. “Too bad it seems like you motherfuckers forgot to invite me,” she laughs humorlessly. “It’s a good thing Jimmy let it slip to me that Sugar’s baby shower was today. It’s a grandmother’s right to attend her first grandbaby’s baby shower.”

You hold your hands out to her as if she was a wild animal, waiting to strike. “Listen, Donna, you cannot be here right now.” She grabs your arms.

“Oh, Little Red, you used to love coming over to my house. I fed you, housed you when your own parents didn’t want to. You’re so ungrateful… that’s probably where my kids get it from,” she stumbles closer to you, and you can smell the alcohol on her lips. Before you can reply, Carmy is stepping between you guys, taking her hands off of your arms.

“Hey, Ma, that’s enough. Don’t talk to her like that.” His voice is stern, but you can see the tremble in his hands. 

She grabs his face, gently. “Oh, Carmy. I don’t even know you anymore. When was the last time I saw you, huh? You never come to see me.” The tears are flowing freely on her face now. 

You glance behind you, looking at Sugar just in time to see Pete whisking her away to the kitchen, and out of Donna’s line of fire. At the same time, Richie is walking up to Donna. He puts his arm around her and leads her out the door. “C’mon, D, I’ll call you a cab. You should go home and go to sleep.” 

She pushes him off. “Y’know what? Fuck you Richie. Fuck all of you people, you don’t care about me at all. I’ll fuckin’ leave. None of you will miss me anyway.”

You take a step towards them, but Richie holds out a hand in protest. “I got this, Red, don’t worry about it.”

As Donna turns to the door with Richie hot on her heels, you gingerly place your hand on Carmy’s shoulder. “Hey, Carmy, come outside with me,” you slide your hand down his arm, take his hand, and lead the way towards the back door. He doesn’t look up, but follows you closely without saying a word. 

The stark winter air is refreshing, though you’re sure that you’ll regret the decision to come outside without a coat. You pull Carmy down to sit on the cool steps with you, and place your hands on either side of his face. You can feel him hyperventilating as your eyes meet his, his eyes wet with unshed tears. You resist the urge to look away. It’s been years since you’ve helped Carmen through a panic attack, and the memories are almost strong enough to cause your own tears. “Carmy, you have to breathe for me, okay? Here, try to match me.” You begin with the box breathing technique that you learned when you were teenagers. You take a deep breath in. One, two, three, four. Deep breath out. One, two, three, four.

In. One, two, three, four. 

Out. One, two, three, four. 

Carmy’s hands grip yours, hard, as he tries to match your breathing. “Just look at me, Carmy. It’s just you and me here, okay?” He nods and then closes his eyes, feeling the movement of your breath. 

You can’t tell whether it’s just a few moments, or ten minutes before you feel Carmy calm down, but he eventually opens his eyes and his grip on you loosens. You let go abruptly, as if his skin was a hot stove. 

“I- sorry. I’m sorry-” he starts, but you refuse to let him apologize for having a panic attack. 

“Don’t, Carmy. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“I do, though-” he starts again, but you shake your head. 

“C’mon, Carm. I know we haven’t talked in a while, but you know better than to apologize to me for having a panic attack.”

“That’s not- I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I’m sorry I didn’t answer when you called, either. And I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you when Mikey died.” Oh. 

You can’t help but look away, smoothing away the nonexistent wrinkles in your dress. “Carmen…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. “Let’s just leave it in the past. I think we’ve both been through enough today, yeah? It’s not important anymore.” You give him a tightlipped smile and move to get up.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, grabbing your hand. “No, it is important. I was a jackass. To everyone, but especially to you. I don’t want you to think that you were just- that what we did wasn’t-” he breathes out, running his other hand through his disheveled curls. “You’re important to me, okay?” 

You give his hand one last squeeze before letting go and wrapping your arms around yourself. Whether it’s as an emotional shield or because of the cold, you don’t know, but this is all becoming too much for you. “I know, Carmy. It’s okay, really. We don’t have to talk about it. Actually, I would prefer it if we didn’t. It’s been years, we’ve both moved on. I heard about you and Claire, and I’m happy for you,” you give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and he can instantly tell it isn’t real. “Let’s just pretend none of it ever happened, and we can go back to who we were before. For Sugar’s sake, okay?” You give him a single nod, as if you were agreeing with yourself on his behalf, and go back inside before he can respond. 

He leans back on the step and pulls out a cigarette, before talking to the air: “Okay.”

dividers credit ! <3

[jasonsiceberglounge]

CODE RED pt1.

the smell of sterilization clung to jason's body like a hug, but not the comforting kind, the suffocating all-consuming disturbing kind. he lived and breathed trauma, not only his own but the emergency room sort.

a stethoscope hung loosely around his neck, the all familiar rhythmic beat of the metal to chest as he walked a little quicker than normal, his pager crackling as he heard the rather urgent calls for a code red. funny thing is though, code red wasn't quite an actual code, it meant bring the big boy down to bay 3 to wrangle this all too strong detoxing gotham regular into straps, which brought jason a semblance of stress relief. he huffed, wondering how long this one would take him, the last being roughly 2 minutes in hospital time which was hours to the staff.

he neared a corner, the soft beating of monitors carrying him to the faster paced ones like a drum, 'war drums are more like it.' he rolled his eyes hearing the shouting increase in volume, his eyebrows twitched hearing him refer to his coworkers as 'devil disguised whores.'

his hokas squeaked a little too loudly as he approached the scene, the heat emitting from his ears could turn his nape white. behind the curtain he could see shadows rapidly moving in panic, and a figure thrashing violently.

"mr. titus you have to stay still!"

"i'll be damned if i let another one of you freaks try to help me again!" slurring his words.

"if you try to touch me there again we're gettin-" jason ripped open the curtain quicker than she could respond, the relief in the room palpable. "i wish you the best of luck mr. titus, feel better." the words laced with sarcasm, the nurse gave jason a brief nod and rushing out with every lack of concern for the patient.

he cracked a knuckle and sighed deeply, mr. titus raking in his form, gauging whether or not he wanted to take this fight. jason peered through the patient, booze leaking from his pores, eyes bloodshot, dirt caked under his nails. he slipped on the second glove, the black latex threatening to burst at the seams, he reminded himself to special order his size.

"what seems to be the problem today?" he stood brazenly, arms to his sides. awaiting the opportunity to give this inconvenience a piece of his mind, and body.

"i'm tryin' to cut the booze kid, swear it! my skin is on fuckin' fire, my blood is about to explode, i just wanted some fucking morphine before that... bitch... tried to stab me with something." he said with dimming confidence, mr. titus suspected something about this nurse was not to be toyed with.

"i want you to repeat yourself one more time, i didn't hear you quite right." jason deadpanned, hoping to every god watching him at this moment gave him the justification tonight, just one time.

"i said, that b-" immediately mr. titus yelped as jason tightened his grip on the mans leg, staring into the contents of his eyes, begging him to finish his sentence.

"i think i know the perfect treatment for that."

loud painful shouts emitted from the curtain, "help me, please god!" the patient shouted hurriedly. granted, in gotham presbyterian hospital that was the least of the doctors concerns.

"oh he's not coming for either of us tonight mr. titus, it's just you and me sweetheart."

[yellowharrington]

jaded -- chapter 2, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: smoking (both carmy and reader), mention of sexual content, a bit of angst. minors dni with this story please.

word count: 2k

a/n: chapter 2 is here! ty for reading and interacting w this story i very much appreciate it <3 this chapter is a bit angsty and a bit fluffy, pls enjoy!

summary: after you and carmy hook up, things change.

masterlist | chapter 1 | chapter 3

Carmy isn’t good at hookups. Especially after spectacularly fucking it up with Claire, a girl he knew deep down was probably his soulmate, he was feeling pretty fucking gross about the whole thing. He doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve any of it, and pumping his loneliness into his pastry chef probably isn’t a great idea either. It felt so good in the moment, his hands wrapped around her throat and in her hair, pouring it all out into the messy thrusts. He just thought about how he wasn’t good enough for this, and was just a broken, broken person. 

You knew it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, and you’d heard whispers about Claire in the kitchen between Carmen and Ritchie, and obviously there was a history there. You had tried to pry the story out of Sydney, but she was all tight-lipped about the whole thing, not wanting to “gossip” at work. In reality, you knew she knew Claire and had heard more about what had happened on opening night, and probably just didn’t want to repeat the story to anyone. You could respect it, but at the same time, you needed to know how deep this shit went before you started being your boss’s rebound.

The kitchen that afternoon when you come in for your shift is awkward, to say the least. You ignore him, he ignores you, but it’s tense. When he sees you, all he sees is your lips hung open, moans escaping against his skin, his loose gold chain between your teeth as he plunges into you, over and over and over and…

“Behind, Jeff! Fuck, what is up with you today? Your mind is somewhere else,” Tina breaks him out of his daydream, watching as you ice the dessert in front of you, focusing on the even layers of chocolate buttercream. And you’re not laughing, no, because you don’t know if he’s daydreaming about you or still has his mind on Claire, and even though you may have a big ego, it’s not big enough to think he’s distracted by you at work. It was one fuck, one night, one mistake between two coworkers that you’d never speak of again.

“Outside, now, chef,” he’s suddenly at your station, looming over you just as you were getting lost in the frosting. “I’m fucking busy, Carm-“ you started, before his hand came down on the stainless steel beside you, gripping the edge of the counter. “Now, chef. Please.” You place the offset spatula on the clean plate beside your cake, glaring at him as you walked out back. He immediately pulled out a cigarette to put between his lips, letting the chilled air hit the bare skin of his arms. “What the fuck do we do?” he asks, more into the air than directly to you. You tighten your apron around your waist, crossing your arms over your chest. “Probably fuckin’ prep for service and serve rich assholes some marinated radishes. What the fuck else would we be doing?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, and it’s sharper than he intends. “No, I mean,-“ “Look, you’re the one who left in the middle of the night, alright? You’re the one who snuck out and went home before I could say anything or we could come up with a game plan. I don’t care that we fucked, we can forget it, I won’t talk about it again. Swear on my fuckin’ life,” you grab the cigarette from between his fingers and put it between your own lips. “But don’t act like I’m crazy, or like it’s my fucking fault, alright?” There’s a beat as you take a puff of his cigarette, smashing it beneath the toe of your shoe into the concrete. “Sorry for leaving,” he says, finally, “Didn’ know what else to do.” You shrugged. “Whatever, Carm, it doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t want it to. I’ll live and let live if you will. Just be fuckin’ cool, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want people to know that I fucked my boss, or whatever.” He smirks, “Heard, chef.” 

And it all seems alright for a bit. The kitchen is back to normal, you’re back on pace, and you and Carmy are fine. 

- 

The weeks pass and the world falls back into its natural orbit. There’s a hookup here and there, a few nights where he comes home with you after service, all under the guise of a drive home. You feel obligated to invite him up for something to eat (because God knows he hasn’t all fucking day), and before you can get in the door he’s already hot on your heels and breathing down the back of your neck. And there you are, breath hitched in your throat, struggling to get the door open, feeling his hand come around your front and slide into the waistband of your jeans.

Sometimes he stays, sometimes he doesn’t. It’s a toss up if you have to be in for service the next morning, and you usually hear him grabbing his coat from where it’s laid on the kitchen table, the jingle of his car keys in the right-hand side pocket being just loud enough to wake you from your deep slumber. Sometimes you’re coherent enough to ask him to stay, but he’s got one foot out the door and he can easily pretend not to hear you. And it’s fine, really.

A Saturday rolls around, the busiest day of the week, and there’s a few mumbles around the kitchen that Carmy’s in a bad mood today, and he’s not to be fucked with.

You were nothing if not nosy, so when Richie and Natalie are having a heated conversation in the dining room before prep starts, you can’t help but insert yourself. “What’s up, guys? Everything chill?” Richie shot you a look, but not before leaning down closer to your ear, sworn to secrecy.“Claire bitched out Carmy on a drunk phone call last night,” He starts, before Natalie can stop him. “No, it wasn’t-“ “Yeah, it was. It was gnarly. She finally actually got mad about opening night and let him fuckin’ have it, good for her,” he laughs, letting his hands plunge into his pockets. “What did she say?” Natalie’s sweet voice was a sharp contrast to Richie’s, low, and soft, when she replied, “He didn’t say much. Just that she called, and he had his stupid sad puppy dog eyes on, so obviously she must’ve said some… stuff.”

Carmy was scrubbing the floors of the kitchen, head down, obviously not taking any notice to the mini staff meeting in the dining room. “Just don’t mention it, ‘kay? I don’t think anyone’s supposed to know. He hasn’t heard from her in weeks and now he’s all fucked up over it, he’ll probably be a real bitch later.” “Heard, chef. Will try not to piss off Princess Carmy.”

The service isn’t so bad. Carmy’s mopey - downturned eyes, less yelling than you’d anticipated. It’s almost scary; seeing him rather calm, a little sad, reduced to a heartbroken boy who just feels fucking bad for himself. You try to stay out of his way, focusing on getting plates of custard and cake out in time, with no mistakes. It’s a lot of ‘yes chef, thank you chef, great chef’. You’d almost actually prefer it like this.

You find him out back having a cigarette right before you’re gonna head out. He hasn’t bothered to put his sweater or coat on, arms bare against the cold night air as he blows the hot smoke into a cloud above him. “Hey,” you start, sitting next to him. It feels a little odd to be close to him - intimate, in a way that you’re not used to. “You seemed off tonight. Is something up?” You put your hand out expectantly for a cigarette, and he obliges, with his lighter to follow. 

“No, chef,” he starts, dusting some salt from the street off his shoe. “Thank you though.” “You know I don’t have to be chef outside of that kitchen,” you bump a shoulder with him. “You’ve called me a lot of other names, God knows.” He stifles a laugh and looks at you again, with a softness in his features you’d never really seen before. “I just had a rough night last night, is all,” he finishes. “Just feels so fucking bad. I feel like I’m so bad at… this.” He gestures to the night sky around him. “I don’t know how to balance anything. I keep… I keep fucking losing people. People I like, people… people I fucking love. And like, what am I supposed to do about that?” You can see his face get hot as he lets the heel of his hand rub his eye. “You let it happen,” you finish, taking a puff of your own cigarette. “You do what you can and you let yourself feel it and you mourn and grieve until you can’t anymore, until it doesn’t feel right to anymore.”

He nods in agreement, letting you both smoke in silence. “Can I give you a ride home?” He asks, and you know what that means. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “Sure, thanks. Go get your stuff, I’ll wait here.” When he’s back, he locks the back door of the restaurant and lets you stand up first, following behind you.

When you make it back to your place, it’s different. He’s comfortable here now, having been in your space enough times to know where he was welcomed. Normally, it goes like, he’s panting down your neck before you can even get in the door, and once he’s put his stuff down, the back of your knees are hitting the mattress, wet sloppy kisses along your collarbones and neck, down over your breasts and down down down…

But he’s not being like that. When he sets his coat down, he finds his way to your couch. You pull a glass out of the cupboard to fill with ice and cold water, handing it to him before doing the same for yourself. “Can we… can we go to bed?” He asks, and it’s softer than usual. “Sure,” you smile, opening the door to your bedroom and watching as he strips bare, before pulling out a pair of grey sweat pants he had stashed in your closet. You’d stayed the night at his one time, so-affectionately wearing them in the morning to make him a cup of morning coffee, and decided just to wear them home. “Keep them,” he had said to you that day, “just in case.”

When he climbs in between your white sheets, he seems to instantly relax. He generally did after work, from what you saw - and even though he often had a hard time letting the day go, it seemed like whenever he was with you, he could let it go a little easier. You grabbed a pair of pyjamas for yourself and slid them on, before cracking the window slightly and letting the cool breeze in. The chain around his neck glistened in the moonlight, as he let his eyes flutter closed, just for a minute. When you let your hand brush over his arm, tracing the faded inky lines of his tattoos, he opened one eye slightly, eliciting a small laugh from the side of his mouth. “Feels nice,” he offered, soft against the sounds of the nighttime. “Would you be offended if we didn’t fuck tonight?” His eyes are still closed, and even though it seems a bit ridiculous to ask, you can tell it was hard for him to get the words out. It didn’t really mean that, it meant, can we just be here, together, and enjoy each other for a night? Do you want me here if not for that? 

“Of course not, Carmen,” you let your head hit the pillow, kissing his shoulder and letting your hand grasp his bicep. “You never call me Carmen,” he comments, voice soft, before he looks over at you. “I kinda like it. Only you, though.” You let the curls of his hair tangle around your fingers as he started to drift off, you following not long after. And it’s actually fine this time.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Just thinking today about how Ed's entire life has convinced him he's not allowed any tenderness, how love has always been made into something dangerous for him. A defining memory of his childhood is his mother, trying to protect him by telling him he's not meant for fine things, trying to give him one tiny piece of finery so he doesn't get hurt looking for more - and the lesson he learns is he is incapable of deserving nice things. He kills his father in an act of love, protecting his mother, and what he takes away from it is he's a monster. As a pirate captain with more riches than you can shake a fuckin' stick at, he denies himself every comfort and luxury so he's surprised and excited by marmalade and cashmere and a library, even though he surely could've had those things for himself.

When he's holding his piece of silk and Stede walks up to him, Ed hides it like he's guilty. Like he's sure Stede will mock him for it or even hurt him for owning something that's above his station.

When he cries alone in the spot Stede's bed used to be at the end of the first season, he's stripped the bed so he's basically just sitting on hard wood. The night he cries with the cake toppers, he's put down furs, but he's still laying on the floor. He takes every single chance to deny himself comfort, like he deserves to be punished for wanting something else.

That's why him wearing that soft comfy robe and reclining in bed with his boyfriend the morning after their first time feels so healing, I think. I hope Ed's eventually able to realize he deserves to be comfortable, that he can spend every single morning in comfort and safety, bringing his boyfriend breakfast in bed and feeling so safe and loved.

[harrywavycurly]

Food Network

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Ghost!Reader

Find all things Eddie x ghost!reader here✨

A/N: Don’t worry it’s not sad and also don’t ask where this came from, I just like the idea of you bothering Eddie as a ghost✨

“What are you doing?” Eddie jumps at the sound of your voice making him hit his head on the top of the fridge. “Why are you home?” You ask as you take a seat on top of the counter in the small kitchen of Eddie’s trailer.

“Please stop fucking doing that.” His voice is full of annoyance as he grabs a beer from the fridge before closing it. “Also I’m home because I live here? Where else would you like me to be?” You roll your eyes as you watch him open his beer and take a sip.

“It’s a Saturday night you should be going out with your friends.” Eddie just walks away from you and into the living room. You quickly jump off the counter and follow him as he gets comfortable in his recliner. “You’re such an old man.” You tease as you cross your arms and lean against the back of the chair.

“Says the ghost that’s been around for how long?” You reach down and flick him in the back of the head causing him to look up at you with an annoyed glare in his eyes.

“I’ve only been a ghost for a few years you asshole.” You explain as you reach down and grab the remote from his hand while he’s too busy staring at you to notice. “So my statement still stands…you’re like an old man.” Eddie let’s out a huff as he turns his attention to the tv and sees you’ve put it on the food network.

“I’m not watching this fucking woman make pies and cakes all night again.” He argues making you laugh as you turn the volume up. “Is this your idea of torture? Are you here to just make me miserable?” You raise an eyebrow as you stand up straight so you can grab the back of his chair and spin him around so he’s face to face with you. “Jesus fuckin-”

“Do I make you miserable?” Eddie feel his heart drop at the sound of your voice, it’s a mixture of sadness and concern.

“What? No you don’t make me miserable.” He tries his best to reassure you as you stare into his eyes. “I uh love the food network it just…makes me hungry that’s all.” It’s not a complete lie but he figures it’s worth it because you just smile at him and hand him the remote.

“I used to bake.” You smile as a blurry memory comes to your mind of the weekends you used to spend in your kitchen baking things for your friends and family. “I think I was good at it.” Eddie just nods because even though you’ve only been haunting his trailer for a few months he doesn’t doubt your talents in the kitchen because half the time you tell him what the chef on the tv is making before they can even announce it.

“I’m sure you were.” Eddie smiles as you slowly spin his chair back around so he can see the tv, you walk around him and take a seat on the floor in front of his feet. “I have a couch you know.” He jokes before he takes another sip of his beer.

“The floor is ten times comfier than your sack full of rocks you call a couch.” You answer as you lean back so your back is resting against Eddie’s shins. “Oh she’s making a baked Alaska.” Eddie just smiles as he sips on his beer, maybe a Saturday night watching the food network isn’t so bad after all.

[demphix]

hhi please talk about this ... you get me i think

Hi sorry this took so long I got my brain rewired and hijacked by Ceroba again. Anyways. Ralsei. That fuckin freak goat

Where do I even start? I could go the route of his design and how inconsistently he (and uniquely him as opposed to a more wide-spread lack of consistency) is portrayed both in and out of game and why I find that interesting, but I should probably do that separately.

Because I'm really here to ramble about him as a character, and what sides of him tend to be forgotten and ignored.

Most of the fandom that I've seen sorta reduces Ralsei down to what he is on the surface, a walking plushie who wants to make everyone happy, and while I understand WHY it's so common, it leaves me really unsatisfied with how he's presented in the fandom. He's more than that, he's not just the toy he tries to act as.

And I emphasize the "act as" there, because it's important to note how often he does this. He (and the game) gives you a million offers to hug him, if not that he'll talk about baking a cake for you, or you'll get to call him cute, ect.. Little acts of comfort he'll lean on a lot. On top of that, he'll always encourage you and Susie to be pacifists in Chapter 1 no matter what you do. Keep this in mind.

The next thing I wanna mention is his whole deal with "purpose." He's introduced by reading off a prophecy to you, and his whole conflict with Susie in Chapter 1 is trying to get her to be a hero with him and Kris for the sake of said prophecy. Later on he states that Darkners exist to serve Lightners and make them happy, and adds that it's supposedly the only way they can feel fulfilled. In Chapter 2, he objects to learning S-ACT and R-ACT because that's supposed to be Kris's special talent. There's probably more examples I'm blanking on at the moment, but those stick out to me the most here.

On top of all that, he really lets you walk all over him (sometimes literally). You mentioned before how he goes "If you want to hit me, that's okay, too!" and like. Yeah that's kind of the perfect summary of it he really did just Say That. What's wrong with you goatboy why are you like that???

Expanding on that more, despite encouraging pacifism he's perfectly compliant in letting you attack everyone and making him do it too; yet he still snaps (or as close as he can get to snapping right now) at Susie for doing the exact same thing. It's weird. He's fine when Kris does it, but when Susie does it's a problem? Why? He even suggests fighting as a way to get stronger in Chapter 2 (though I suppose that is at least after him being nice to King backfired on everyone).

It all fascinates me. It feels like he's trying to stick to a script while also letting you completely disregard it. He wants to be cute and lovable and wants to bring people comfort, but the only way he ever tries to comfort others is through hugs and baking or giving them a nice spot in his castle. Ironically for his thing with ACTing, he doesn't really "talk" about issues often.

Which leads me to his identity, Kris, the Player, and the way those may intersect.

Let's start off with Kris and the Player. A lot of what Ralsei gives you leeway on really feels like stuff for the player's enjoyment. He'll let you do things he doesn't want Susie to (fighting in Chapter 1, choosing who goes with who, ACTing, ect..) and use him for it when needed. He's famously VERY quick to disregard any meaning Spamton NEO's fight could have had and (again) relies on using himself as a plushie or making some cake or whatever to comfort Kris instead (which doesn't even work). I also like to note how he responds to any negative or silent choices from you in the Acid Tunnel of Love scene. He turns away from the camera (away from the player before turning opposite to Kris) in the first choice before going "ahahaha just kidding!! sarcasm!!! haaahhahahahaha!!!!, and in the second he fumbles on his words and tries to pass it off as "you-like" to be silent.

He also pans us over to Susie's POV in both chapters, and with the "So that's why..." at the end of both, it feels like he was trying to explain something to Kris during it??? Additionally: Weird Route. Do you remember the 1 in 20 chance he stares at the camera during the scene where he should be panning us over to Susie's POV? He just looks right at us. It has a unique sprite but it's disguised in name and appearance to look like an in-between frame from his dance animation at the start of Chapter 2. What the fuck does that mean. Huh. Why.

Oh also the him blushing easter-egg only happens when he and Kris's sprites overlap to a point where he'd be touching the sprite of the soul when made visible. Which sure is something I think

So like. Bro knows about us right . Am I crazy I think he knows. I feel like he's too focused on following the prophecy and being liked by us to not right?? Bro wants to play the role he was given in his script even if its uncomfortable or painful and panics when it doesn't go how it should too often right am I stupid or am I on to something please help me

Ok fuckin. Last bit. I'm gonna try to be quick I am tired.

Why He Goat

He resembles Kris's family, his name is an anagram of Asriel, you know the drill. I'm not so concerned with the "why" of that (I think he's the horned headband Kris wore as a kid, and his resemblance to the Boss Monsters is reflective of how that item represents Kris wanting to resemble their family), I wanna see how that ties into his identity. He states he doesn't know what being "ralsei-like" even means, and. Yeah that's probably adding a lot to it. It's also probably making how affectionate he tries to be very uncomfortable for Kris (almost like he's going despite that because they weren't originally who he was being this way towards Ooo Vessel Allusion Ooo).

I don't know how to wrap this up uhhh

I think Ralsei is more than the uwu babygirl fluffball this fandom makes him, he's a character with depth. He puts on a persona to be perfect for the player because that's his "purpose." It's his role in the story to teach you and do whatever you want while keeping the plot moving as it should. He cares, but he doesn't know how to comfort because he doesn't know how any of this works (like how he talks about friendship in the Acid Tunnel).

He tries to be perfect, but deep down he's still just. The lonely prince the prophecy needs.

[intoanotherworld23]

Pick Your Battles VII

Pairing: Reader x Bradley Bradshaw

Warnings: Some swear words

Summary: Bradley broke your heart when he accused you of betraying him, and you haven’t seen or spoken to him since. Until you are both called back to Top Gun to help with a dangerous mission that nobody’s ever attempted before

✨Please do not copy and paste my work or steal my work or publish my work as your own or I will have you reported✨

Part 6 Part 8

Heart break. Pain. Agony. Betrayal. Humiliation.

That's what you felt walking away from Bradley that night. Not wasting another moment of your time even when he was following you around begging you not to go without an explanation. Even though the woman showing up at the door was a enough.

The room felt like it was spinning and you wanted to sit down, but you just needed to get the hell out of there. Tuning out her yelling at him all the questions as he just ignored her. His only focus was on you and it terrified him that you wouldn't even look at him.

Both of your lives spiraling out of control within a blink of an eye. Everything seemed too good to be true, and you felt like something bad was going to happen sooner or later.

Tears just streaming down your face as you hitched a ride with some random woman. She could tell by looking at you that you were extremely distraught, and as a fellow woman she wanted to help you.

She didn't even need to know the story she could already tell it was a man. Handing you tissues as you blew into the fabric while trying to control your crying. Looking at your phone staring at it waiting for his name to pop out on the screen.

"Fuckin men." She sneered as she lit a cigarette shaking her head. "If someone can break your heart than there's no hope for me."

You didn't honestly know what to say to that so you just sat back quietly sniffling. Knowing that her words were supposed to be of comfort but at the same time seeing you hurt like that must have reminded her or someone that broke her spirit.

Bradley never once mentioned another woman to you nor did he even tell you he was seeing someone. Maybe he forget about her and just didn't think to mention her. Or maybe she was a psycho stalker who hunted him down, and wanted to be with him.

You've gotta get those excuses out of your head not wanting to give him a life raft. If he wanted you to hear the truth he would come to you and explain what was going on.

Right now you just wanted to get back to your place and forget about tonight. Feeling absolute disgust that you could have almost slept with him if she wouldn't have knocked on the door. He treated you like such fragile glass like he was afraid to hurt you. In the end he was hurting you by lying to you.

"Don't worry about it." Waving her hand when she saw you digging through your purse to get out some money. "You just forget about him."

"Thanks." Your voice scratching like you had a sore throat or something.

Getting out of the car you shuffled to the door feeling like your entire body was run over. Whatever you were feeling you thought that it was worst the last time, but this took the icing on the cake.

Thinking back to what she said about just forgetting him was easier said than done. Even after everything he's done to you your heart couldn't just let him go like that. He still meant the world to you and always would.

Grabbing your phone before you tossed your purse on the table as you headed towards your room. Rubbing your eyes as you looked in the mirror seeing how red and puffy your eyes already were.

Looking down at yourself to see that you were still wearing Bradley's clothes. Sighing not knowing if you wanted to take them off or not. Feeling your bottom lip trembling at the thought of tossing him to the side. Hating yourself for not wanting to take it off.

Crawling into bed as you grabbed your pillow and squeezing it tightly. Looking at your phone to see Bradley had already been calling you and texting you several times. Putting mental handcuffs on to not respond or call him back. You wanted him to suffer with knowing what he did to you.

There was so many people you wanted to call right now and just break down into sobs. There was one person on your mind though that you needed to see, and wanted to hear what he had to say. It was your father.

——————————————

"Hey mom." Greeting her with a hug and kiss as soon as she opened the door for you.

"How are you sweetie?" She asked pulling back keeping her hands on your arms knowing something was wrong.

"I'm okay." Giving her a weak smile as she nodded not believing you but she didn't want to push you and make you upset.

"You know you can talk to me." Your mother was always your biggest fan, and was always in your corner no matter what especially when it came to boys. "Any time."

"I know mom." Whispering as you looked down at your shoes her hands leaving your arms as she stared at you. "How is he?"

"It's worse today." Seeing tears forming in her eyes as she tried to keep it together. "Talking even hurts him now."

"Jesus fuck I'm so sorry mom." Placing a hand over your mouth not ready to face reality. "I am so sorry."

"Don't be sorry please he knows that you love him." She pulled you in for another hug as you two had a quick cry together.

Never in a million years did you ever think something like this would happen to your father. You always he would live to be at least a hundred years old. You've heard of other people going through this, but you never expected it to hit home like this.

"He's been waiting for you." She spoke as she wiped away a tear falling down.

"Office." Was all you said as she nodded in agreement with a huge grin and a light chuckle that you already knew.

As you walked away and up the stairs down the hall you couldn't help but glance at all his medals and awards he had hanging on the walls. Pictures of him and his fellow pilots from over the years. Smiling to yourself at everything your dad had accomplished in his life.

Opening the door since it was already cracked to see him sitting at the desk. A few congested coughs left his throat making you wince at the sound. You hated seeing him like this and hearing him like this reminded you why you were trying to avoid seeing him.

He was wearing winter clothes even though it was the middle of the summer. The cancer did that to me for whatever reason you didn't know. It wasn't something you asked him about nor did you want to.

"Hey old man." Joking with a light chuckle making him turn around to smile at you although his lips didn't part.

"I'm glad to see you." Pulling up a chair to sit next to him he smiled as he nodded his head in agreement watching as he typed out something on his computer.

I want to talk about work

"There struggling to fly as a team and Maverick and I don't know what else to do." Shaking your head knowing this mission could mean their lives. "Hangman and Bradley are at each other's throats."

"I'm just scared that there not going to come back home." A lump forming in your throat making you struggle to gulp. "I can't be responsible for another failed mission."

Y/N you will not fail.

"This is a mission that nobody else has seen before." Your hope fading the more you thought about it. "A mission I don't think he can accomplish."

Believe in yourself and the team

As you sat there looking over at his screen you stared at those words. Etching them into your brain as you tried to brush your shoulders off and tell yourself that you could do this. Maybe your father was right and believing in yourself and the team was the guide you needed. They needed a leader who believed in them and that would give them the courage and strength to do this.

"There's something else I needed to talk to you about." Mumbling as you leaned your elbows on your knees trying to figure out how to explain this to him.

"As you know Bradley is back for this mission." You started off trying to find the right words to say. "We talked and things were good like really good."

"We talked about everything that happened and I guess cleared the air on things." Taking a deep breath before continuing. "It was like we were best friends again but this time it was more than just a friendship."

That's good so what's the problem?

"He has a girlfriend apparently." Looking away as you felt your eyes watering saying it out loud.

Did he tell you that?

"No he didn't say anything." Shaking your head as you sat up straight.

You didn't give him a chance to explain.

"No." Laughing as he gave you that knowing look that there was more to this story than you probably knew. "I was just so angry I left before he could say anything."

Maybe you should talk to him.

"I don't know dad I don't know if I can."

You'll never know unless you talk to him

"You're right." Grumbling as you rolled your eyes making him chuckle. "Thank you dad."

Both of you standing up your hands reaching out to help him automatically. His hands gripping yours as he stared at you. Moving his mouth like he was wanting to say something. Your eyes shifting all around his face noticing he was struggling but he pushed through anyway.

"I am so proud of you and everything you have done." His voice straining to speak almost like he lost his voice and it broke your heart. "Talk to Bradley you'll feel better if you did."

"I love you so much sweetheart." The corner of his mouth lifting up as you pulling him in for a hug.

"I love you too dad."

——————————————

You hated how right your dad was about your situation with Bradley. The last thing you wanted to do was talk to him but you knew you'd have to eventually. Maybe there really was more to his story than what you were thinking.

Today might be one of those days where you just have to bite the bullet and talk to him. It's not like you could avoid him for long since you were teaching him. Knowing Bradley he would stop at nothing to want to talk to you.

Heading into the base your shoes echoing down the hall to the room Maverick told you to meet him in. Stopping in the doorway once you saw him and Bradley standing there deep in conversation. Both their heads turning in your direction when they heard you.

"Y/N." Maverick started off and all you did was shake your head over and over again.

"I'm not doing this right now." Turning around ready to head out Mavericks voice stopping you.

"Your dad messaged me." Closing your eyes with a sigh knowing your dad knew you'd need a little help talking to Bradley. "Said you and Bradley needed to talk about some things."

"I don't need to talk to him at all." Turning around to look at Bradley who looked like he hadn't slept in weeks when it's only been two days. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Talk to him now or you can go outside and do five hundred push ups." His tone letting you know he wasn't playing around and you know you couldn't do two hundred push ups let alone five hundred.

"Fine." Snipping as you started walking back into the room.

"Try not to kill each other." Was all Maverick said before he walked out of the room making you shake your head at him.

You refused to look at Bradley worried you'd start crying and you would just fall right back into his arms. You could feel him staring at you though it was like you could feel his eyes burning into your skin.

The room felt so small and only felt like it getting smaller. The walls were caving in on you, and there was no way to escape. It was you and Bradley in this room and you needed to face those skeletons in your closet.

Bradley wanted to wait until you said the first words. He knew that you were still upset and angry with him and probably had a lot of questions for him. So if that meant waiting for you to speak first that's exactly what he would do.

"Do you have any other secret woman or relationships I should know about?" Speaking up first with a harsh tone.

"No there's nobody else or hasn't been." He spoke up quickly.

"Who was that girl?" You spoke up still not looking at him. "From the other night."

"Her name is Madeline." Almost wanting to roll your eyes at the fact she even had a name.

"Is she your girlfriend?" This time you were looking at him to see if you could catch him lying.

"No I promise you she's not." Shaking his head at your answer his eyes never leaving yours.

"Then why is she calling herself your girlfriend?" You pushed for further explanation.

"We did go out." Inhaling with a hiss hearing that but you let him continue. "But I broke it off before I came back."

"How long we're you two together?"

"A couple of weeks maybe." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Has she ever tried to contact you?" Crossing your arms across your chest.

"Yes she has and I ignored her every single time."

"How on earth did she find out where you lived? Now you were just confused about that part.

"I have no idea how she found me." He walked closer to you but kept a safe distance. "But she did."

"So she's crazy." Bradley laughed at your choice of words for her making your lip twitch trying not to crack a smile.

"I should have figured that when I broke it off and she wouldn't take no for answer." He was slapping himself in the face for putting himself in these kinds of situations.

"I want to believe you Bradley I really do." Putting your hands out speaking your mind. "But I just I can't."

"You've ever right to not trust me." He agreed with you although he didn't like that you didn't exactly trust him. "But I am telling you the truth."

Pressing your lips together fighting back the tears threatening to spill. Yours cheeks felt like they were on fire as you felt something inside of you ready to explode, and this time you weren't going to hold back. He needed to hear how everything he put you through really hurt you.

"Do you have any idea how humiliated I felt?" Screaming at him making him wince hearing you talk like that. "How much I cried that night because of everything?"

"No I don't and I should have never made you feel like that." Lowering his head down hearing the pain in your voice.

"Quite honestly I really felt like leaving completely." Telling him which had his head snapping back up at you. "And never looking back."

"Y/N you can't leave."

"I talked to my dad." You confessed a tear rolling down your cheek.

"You're telling me the truth about there being nobody else?" Asking him again giving him one last chance to confess just in case.

"Y/N darlin I am telling you the truth there is no one else." His voice strained wanting to just grab you and show you that he didn't care about anybody else but you.

Rethinking over and over again what he just told you in your head. Deciding on whether or not you should believe him and trust him again. Your mind racing around in circles that it was starting give you a headache.

"Okay." You whispered with a sigh after a few seconds of silence watching relief wash over Bradley's face. "But don't expect me to just embrace you with open arms."

"No no I won't." He put his hands up as you pointed a finger at him.

Bradley looked at you like little lost puppy dog who just wanted to be held. You could tell by the clenching and unclenching of his fists that he wanted to touch you or at least hold you. Funny thing is you were feeling the exact same way.

Walking towards him you stood directly in front of him now. Slowly wrapping your arms around his middle as he hugged your upper body to his. Leaning his chin on the top of your head as held you tightly.

The two of you embracing each other in a way that seemed like you were silently telling each other you could heal from this. Almost like you were telling each other you two belonged to one another. Even though he's never asked you officially to be his you knew it.

Just praying and hoping that you weren't going to regret forgiving him like this. Telling yourself that if he lies again to you about anything you would be done with him, and never speak to him again.

Hearing a knock coming from the doorway you and Bradley pulled away so fast afraid it was someone you both didn't want to see. Letting out sighs of relief when you saw that it was just Maverick with a hopeful smile on his face.

"We all good?" He asked looking between you and Bradley the two of you looking at each other smiling.

"Yes we're good Dr.Phil." Your voice dripping with sarcasm making him laugh and Bradley pull you by his side.

"Good." Now standing in front of you an excited look on his face.

"What's with that look?"Asking as you squinted your eyes at him.

"Just what I have in store for our next lesson." You and Bradley looked to each other nervously what he had in store for you guys.

"Which is?" Bradley pressed hating the suspense of his answer.

"We're going to the beach." The hell does the beach have anything to do with flying?

[melodygatesauthor]

Chapter 12: Black Ties, White Lace and Birthday Cake

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @whatthefishh

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary:

Steven is coming back to class, and you're feeling off about the way he presents himself in class versus the evenings you spend together in his car.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu (as a deity), talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded, minor mentions of alcohol addiction and depression.

Word Count: 2.8k

SPECIAL WARNING - DUBIOUS CONSENT. READER DISCRETION ADVISED.

----

It took days before Marc and Jake finally broke through to Steven, and they got to him just in time. It was Sunday afternoon, and Marc was on his ninth, or maybe it was the tenth rerun of Steven’s favorite documentary on Egyptian mythology. He said it was the most accurate one he could find and the corny jokes littered throughout seemed to make him laugh. Marc was eating another bowl of Steven’s favorite cereal, hoping that something would give, when finally…he was there.

“Oh my…” Steven dropped the bowl on the floor with a thud, soy milk and cereal spilling all over the hardwood floor. He stood up from where he was seated fast, touching all over his body as though to make sure he were really there. “I’m…I’m back. What did…what happened?”

“Steven, thank god,” Marc said, sighing in relief.

Steven ran to the three piece mirror and looked at his reflections, Jake on one side and Marc on the other. He looked at himself, hair slicked back the way Marc liked it. How long had he been gone for? It was like he totally blacked out. The pain he’d felt after the breakup pushed him so far back he didn’t recall anything from the past three weeks.

“Tell me what’s happened.”

“There’s nothing to tell, you got upset and then you just…you disappeared,” Marc sounded a little choked up as he continued to feel the warmth of Steven’s return. “I’m really glad you’re back. For a minute there, I wasn’t sure–”

“Not interested in talking to you, or you,” he spat, looking over at Jake. Steven wasn’t the angry type, but if looks could kill, Marc and Jake would cease to exist on the spot. “This is all your fault. All of it. Both of you.”

“Oye, what did you expect us to do hermano?” Jake crossed his arms defensively, as though he weren’t just as guilty as Steven.

“I expected you both to leave me alone like you promised, yeah?” Steven walked away from the mirror but he could still hear them chattering while he started getting clothes together for the day.

“You kinda messed that up when you started sleeping with your student, Steven. Trust me, we don’t wanna be here either, but you left us no choice.” Marc retorted, “you think I don’t feel guilty every damn day for what we put you through? It eats away at me but that doesn’t mean I can just stand by while–”

“Enough!” Steven yelled, looking at the mirror in the bathroom as he stepped inside, “I get it, don’t worry. I’ll behave just the way you want me to yeah? I’ll live my life the way you both want me to. The way I always have.”

There was silence while Steven brushed his teeth and showered. He stepped out of the tub and glared at his reflection in passing, noticing that they were still there despite his wish that they’d disappear. He never thought the day would come that he would be able to say that he hated them, but he felt like he did. They’d ruined everything for him, and even now they were still ruining everything for him.

“Steven I–”

“No, Marc–”

“I’m sorry I know–”

“No, Marc!”

“—if you’d just let me explain I–”

“Fuckin’ HELL!” Steven said, dropping onto the bed and burying his face in his hands, “I don’t care what you say, there’s nothing to say. I’ve spent my entire life takin’ care of you, sitting back watching you and Jake do your thing.” He slumped over and started to feel the tears flow freely, “I finally found somethin’ that made me feel like I was living. Like I was real and not just an accessory to you two.”

“Buddy, you’re not just an accessory, okay? I probably wouldn’t be alive without you.” If Marc could, he’d give Steven a hug. The guilt was killing him.

Jake remained silent, as he often did, afraid to say much in this situation. He was torn, like Steven was, knowing that Marc was making perfect, and logical, sense. It didn’t change the fact that he felt the same way as Steven did though. You reminded Jake that he was alive, and that he mattered. Even if it was wrong, he knew that he was helping you through a tough time and he hoped you appreciated that much at the very least. He had a purpose because of you.

After a long bout of silence, Steven sniffled and sighed, deciding to change the subject,  

“How long has it been?” Steven finally picked his phone up off the nightstand, “it’s been…it’s been nearly three weeks.”

“Yeah, that’s why we’ve been trying so hard to get you back, the head of the history department isn’t exactly happy with a new professor who isn’t showing up to his job.” Marc sounded irritated.

Steven saw your texts…the ones where you were drunk and begging him to come back. He felt a pit in his gut before he put the phone back on the table harshly. He took a deep and shaky breath, feeling himself wanting to disappear again but he knew he couldn’t. He grabbed his chest and walked away from the phone, realizing that he’d left the mess of cereal on the floor from earlier.

“I’ll go back tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to ruin this silly little life you gave me. This meaningless, poor excuse for a life.”

“Steven that’s enough, your life isn’t meaningless, pendejo,” Jake said softly, “this is your life now, we just want to make sure you don’t make it worse than we already have.”

Jake’s words seemed to help calm Steven, despite the fact that they meant nothing. Sure, Steven’s life wasn’t meaningless, of course it wasn’t, but Jake wasn’t going to stop seeing you behind both of their backs. He was going to join Marc in keeping Steven away from you, while still seeing you on the side. He was just as much a disaster for the system as Steven was.

That night, when the other two were out, Jake fronted and picked up Steven’s phone. He had to tell you that he was coming back. He had to make sure that you didn’t say anything stupid that would ruin this little thing the two of you had going in secret.

Steven: Hey love, I’m coming back to school tomorrow. I think it’s time. Make sure not to speak to me or even come near me, alright?

Steven: Can’t even have you asking for help with class. Just pretend you don’t know me at all if you want this to continue.

----

You looked at your messages on Monday morning, shaking as you looked down at your phone. Steven was coming back to school. You didn’t know how to act. 

Normal, you thought to yourself, you have to act normal, just like he said in the text. 

But that was easier said than done. It was simple enough to dress modestly, not wearing anything that might make him, or yourself, too uncomfortable, but walking into his classroom and seeing him there for the first time in weeks made your legs feel weak. He was still so handsome, and he looked just like the Steven you remembered.

His hair was a little disheveled and his eyes were surrounded in dark circles like he hadn’t slept for days. He wore a dark blue button-down with a black tie. He still hadn’t noticed that you walked in. Even his facial expression was back to normal too, not like the man you’d been meeting with at night. It took everything inside of you not to rush to him, and tell him how much you missed him. How much you missed the real him…but you obviously couldn’t do that.

His breath caught in his throat when looked up and he saw you.

‘I can’t do this,’ he thought, ‘one of you has to–’

“Steven,” Marc started, “come on buddy, you gotta pull it together.”

Steven tried, and somehow managed to succeed. He spent most of the class looking at the whiteboard, the floor, and anything else other than you. He tugged on his collar, feeling hot, noticing the damp perspiration under his armpits. He was more nervous now than he’d ever been with you. How was he supposed to go on like this? He was positive that he wouldn’t be able to relax in his class ever again until you were out of it.

When the lecture finished, he glanced up at you for a split second on your way out. You looked back, feeling the sharp stab of his gaze through your gut. He looked so different from the man you’d been meeting in the black car late at night. His eyebrows were turned up and eyes glistening when he looked at you. He was back to the Steven you knew and loved…no…he was just the Steven you thought you knew…

You weren’t even sure if you really loved him anymore. You thought you did, despite everything that had transpired, but part of you knew this was wrong…like something was off. The sneaking around, the undeniable change in behavior, the way he hardly ever spoke to you and refused to face you when you were alone together. You were starting to get fed up with it, but you threw it all out the window when he texted you that night and the following night asking to meet up.

You were an emotional slave for him, letting him hold power over you like no other. You asked yourself what you would say to a friend if they were in that same situation. You’d tell them to cut their losses. No questions asked. Time to move on. Yet, you still found yourself in that same damn car, bent over at the hips the same way being ravaged by the same man night after night until you were a panting, wet mess in his back seat.

Tomorrow was his birthday…at least that’s what the note read on the unmarked package you received at your dorm on Wednesday night.

It’s my birthday tomorrow. I’d be thrilled if you wore this for me. Meet me at the car at 11pm.

S

It was a beautiful white and lacy lingerie set. You gulped, holding it up to yourself in the mirror. It was stunning and must have cost a pretty penny, and you had to admit that it looked good on you the next night when you put it on. You bit your bottom lip, feeling your cheeks flush with excitement as they often did when you knew you were meeting up with Steven. You wondered if he was as excited to see you every time you were supposed to meet up too.

Steven, of course, had no idea that was happening when he thought he was asleep. He’d spent his birthday evening, prior to Jake meeting up with you, messily stuffing his face with a store bought cupcake while watching a bad movie on cable television. Marc made a comment about Steven getting the frosting all over his shirt, and told him to go wipe his mouth, but he ignored him.

It wasn’t abnormal these days for Steven to spend his nights looking like a zombie in front of the tv, just waiting for the time to pass by. Sometimes he even hoped Marc would take over and let him sulk, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. Marc was still trying to take the back seat like he’d promised he would so many times before. Steven, still slumped over, walked to Gus’ tank and gave him a few extra flakes of fish food.

“S’pose you can celebrate with me, yeah? Not like I have a girlfriend to wish me happy birthday.”

“Steven, can you stop makin’ the snide comments already? Hate to break it to you buddy, but not every birthday is going to be a big, special thing,” Marc was truly trying to stay patient with Steven, but the moping was constant, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.

“She would’ve made it special I bet.” His face contorted with sorrow at the thought of you. “Bet she would’ve done something real nice f’me.”

Steven, with heavy sobs, dressed himself for bed and crawled under the blankets. The voices in his head ceased, but they were both right there with him while he drifted off.

Jake felt horrible…worse than he’d ever felt before. There he was, sitting in the car, waiting for you to walk outside to meet with him. When would this end? He knew he couldn’t string you along forever. He also knew he couldn’t possibly continue watching Steven go through the pain of missing you while he bent you over the hood of his car in that delicate little number he’d bought for you.

How was Jake meant to end this though? How was he supposed to convince himself to stop making you whine every time he thrust between your pussy lips, stretching your hole out around him? He was starting to worry that he wouldn’t be able to end the facade. He felt addicted to you, like if this were to end he might never be the same. He needed you, and he was still holding out hope that one day he’d be able to hold you, and cherish you the way he felt deep down in his heart.

He pulled out of you, flipping you onto your back. You let out a sharp gasp in surprise when he did. Steven didn’t look at you when he fucked you, not anymore anyway. There he was though, looking down at you, cock still dripping with a combination of your juices and his precum onto the ground. He grabbed the backs of your thighs, right below the pit of your knees, and he pushed them up. Your wet cunt felt chilled in the crisp night air.

Jake lined himself up with your hole again, plunging his thick cock deep into your wet heat. There was your sweet voice again, whimpering while you adjusted to his size once more. Jake tossed his head back, still trying to avoid your gaze. It was obvious that you were suspicious of him, and he started thinking that turning you on your back was a bad idea, but he wanted to see you. It was his birthday after all, he should allow himself a little something special…right?

You leaned up, grabbing him by the tie, and pulling him close. His head snapped forward, eyes full of surprise at the sudden motion as they met with yours. You hadn’t kissed him in a while, and you missed the way he tasted, so you closed your lips over his quickly before he could pull away from you again. You noticed his movements slowed, hips rolling at a more lazy pace while you stole the gravelly moans from his lips. His pleasured sounds were almost like a growl while he kissed you.

He rutted forward, any regrets he had about flipping you over, or for being there in the first place, dissipated with every pass of your tongue over his. You reached up your hand from his tie and carded your fingers through his curls. His mouth got stuck open, hot breath punching into you while his hips started moving faster again until suddenly they stopped.

Steven’s moans echoed off the trees that kept you both hidden from the street. You felt his cock gushing his hot spend into you, making you feel full of him once more. You kept your mouth on his while you came too, coating his tongue in your sounds while your cunt clamped down over him in waves. To your surprise, he didn’t let go right away to cover himself up with his hat and high collar jacket. Instead he stayed in the embrace, kissing you long after both of your orgasms ended.

Jake decided at that moment that he loved you, of that much he was certain. It was the only explanation for this feeling that he couldn’t shake. He wished he didn’t. He wished that he could just walk away from this and let Steven heal without the residual memories that Marc had mistaken for dreams. He couldn’t though, because while holding you there when he pulled back and looked into your breathtaking eyes, he knew that he couldn’t imagine living a day of his life without you.

----

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Moon Knight Masterlist

[americas1suiteheart]

Hello!💙💙 could I request lemon x assassin!reader where they’re in a relationship and end they happen to be on the same train they were assigned?

I love, love, LOVE, Lemon. Shame there's not too many fanfics for him though, he deserves more love, honest.

I Like Lemons

Lemon x Assassin! Reader

[Warnings; Violence, Swearing, all the stuff you would expect from a Bullet Train fic.

[Notes; your code name is Whiplash (neat right?), so Y/n is only used once, and a slightly confusing pov

"No one likes Lemons,"

"That's bolloks mate, lemonade, lemon drops," Lemon names off.

"Do you have a sore throat?"

"Lemon meringue pie,"

"When was the last time you had a lemon meringue pie?"

"Lemon drizzle cake?"

"I'm sorry are we still talking about lemons?"

"Alright then fine, you know who does like lemons though?"

"Ah no mate, they don't count, that isn't fair now it's biased."

"What the fuck do you mean it's biased?"

"Thats your lover there mate, that doesn't fuckin' count,"

"Yes it fuckin' does, if they liked lemons before they even met me it fuckin' counts,"

"I'll put your fuckin' head through a wall Lemon, it doesn't count- Ah, look who's up,"

Whilst the twins were bickering about and babysitting, Whiplash was trying to look for Carver, going through each and every cart trying to find him so they could finally take him out.

They were currently in the 6th economy cart, and still hadn't found him.

"Shit, maybe I should've gone to the First Class carts first.. Where could Carver be?" You mumble to yourself, opening the door to the next cart.

You walk about halfway through until you hear slightly familiar voices.

Shit..

They can't be here right now, how the hell did you get a mission in the same location as them?

Just try to walk past them without getting recognised and then you can go back to finding Carver, easy as that.

"Whiplash? Is that you?" You hear what you know is your fiancé say to you.

You pause for a second before slowly turning around to see Lemon and Tangerine looking at you.

"Hey, uh, I didn't know you two had a job to do here." You say sheepishly.

"I can say the same thing for you love," Lemon says with a sweet smile.

You leaned onto the seat Lemon was in, completely forgetting what you were there for.

"So, whatcha guys up to hmm?"

"Fuckin' hell, we're practically babysitting this guy. Had to go through a shit ton of guys just to get to this little shit." Tangerine groans.

"Shit I feel bad for you guys. How are you two doing so far though?"

"Just bloody fuckin' fantastic," Tangerine says.

"Better now love," Lemon says, looking at you lovingly.

You and Lemon liked to play this game to see just how long it takes until tangerine couldn't take anymore of it and either walk away from you two or completely just blow up on the two of you right there.

You and Lemon got along well because it seemed like you were nearly exactly the same. Now of course Tangerine liked you and everything being that you were his brother's lover, but having two Lemons seemed to really tick him off.

It's just kind of how most missions with the twins went.

"Whiplash darling, me and Tan were over here talking about something a while ago and he didn't quite seem to agree with me about it,"

"Oh fuck me, are you still goin' on about this shit?" Tangerine says as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"He was saying that no one really liked lemons, I want to know what your take on that might be love,"

"I like lemons. What the fuck do you mean 'no one likes Lemons,' " You say, turning to look at Tangerine.

"Fuck me, can we not do this shit right fuckin' now?" Tangerine groans once again.

"You're such a fuckin' Gordon sometimes," You say playfully, knowing it would piss him off more.

"I am not a fuckin' Gordon you take that shit back!"

"No I don't think I will. Anyways, I've got to get back to my thing, I'll see you back at home darling." You lean down and give Lemon a peck on the lips before exiting the cart.

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

You sift through the debris of the Train frantically trying to look for the twins.

"Lemon! Tangerine!"

Your head was throbbing and your vision was blurry, clearly injured from the impact of the crash.

You stumble as you continue to push large pieces of metal off of areas you couldn't see in hopes you won't find the boys dead.

"You okay there, kid?" You hear someone yell out from behind you.

You turn your head to see what you thought at the time was Carver walking towards you.

"Get the fuck away from me Carver! Take one more fuckin' step and I'll blow your bloody brains out." You quickly get up and use the remains of the train to support yourself, pulling your gun out and pointing it at him.

"Woah, woah, woah, calm down I'm not Carver," He says, putting his hands up.

"What? Who are you then? Where's Carver?" You say.

"I'm Ladybug, I'm filling in for Carver. He had some stomach thing and couldn't come or something I dunno," Ladybug says, his hands still up.

"Fuck me, are you serious? So he just fuckin' took off a mission like he was in school for a fuckin' stomach thing? Shit! Have you seen the twins?" You groan, running a hand through your blood matted hair.

"Uh, well Lemon went and jumped off of the train to stop a guy from shooting me before it crashed, and um, Tangerine's kind of dead. I'm sorry kid," Ladybug comes bloser to you and extends his hand out.

"Stop fuckin' calling me kid! Shit!" That was it. You finally broke down and started crying, you lost both of them and there was nothing you could do about it.

Soon you hear gunfire and look to see the girl from the train.

"Oh god," Ladybug says.

"It's my luck that delivered my father's corpse at my feet!" She says.

"The Narcissism on this chick, untreatable.." Ladybug sighs.

"Now I am-"

"Okay! Wait, wait, wait," Ladybug interrupts.

"What?" The Girl groans.

"What is with this fucked-up family?" Ladybug says.

"Your really fuckin' doing this now mate?" You groan.

"You need some suggested reading, if I may. Surviving Borderline Personality Disorder," Ladybug starts to list off.

You thought this guy was literally fuckin' insane. I mean, he has no gun, she does, and he's just interrupting her like this. Why is everyone on that train a fuckin' psychopath?

"What?" The Girl says, clearly confused that Ladybug was really doing this right now.

"I highly recommend it." He finally finishes.

"I am the new white de-"

Once again, interrupted. But for the best you suppose, especially being it was her getting struck and killed by a fruit truck.

The fruit from the vehicle flies out from the truck itself, tangerines, it seems to be. And the crying that you were able to keep down for that whole sh-bang that had just went on was finally coming aggressively back.

"What the fuck was that? Was that karma?" Ladybug says, almost in disbelief at what had just happened.

You walk away from the three to go inspect where the truck went. You werent a superstitious type of person to believe in things such as karma, but what were the chances of that girl getting struck by a Tangerine truck?

You see it stopped in the middle of the road, as debris was blocking the rest of the way, and someone stumble out of the drivers side clumsily, unloading a plethora of curses as he does so.

Your Lemon.

He turns around and looks at you. You would've immediately started to run to him but you were afraid that if you did he would disappear, that he would just be a figment of your imagination.

"Whiplash?" His voice shakes a little, maybe he to was thinking the same thing as you were.

"L-lemon?" You start to walk a little bit towards him, faster with every step as you stumble through some of the debris because of your injured legs.

At this point the two of you are practically running towards eachother the best you can with the injuries you had, finally making it into eachothers arms.

You stay in eachothers embrace for a while taking in that it really was him and that he really was alive.

"Oh my god I'm so glad your okay.. What the fuck were you thinking Lemon!?" You push his chest harshly, as he gives you a look at disbelief.

He was at a loss of words, unable to make out anything cohearant.

"You could've fuckin' died you asshole! What the fuck would I have done if that had happened huh? We already fuckin' lost Tangerine, and God rest his soul, because of some fuckin' lunatic on the train. What the fuck drove you to jump off of it and risk your life, Lemon?" You continue to yell, all the hurt you felt before turned into frustration.

"Sweetheart, hey, calm down. I know it was stupid, really fuckin' stupid but we're okay and that's all that matters." Lemon grabs your shoulders gently, calming you down almost instantly.

You cup his cheek and pull him down by his vest, placing a needy kiss on his lips, not caring that it was sloppy.

You pull both pull away, leaving one last smaller peck before looking back at eachother.

"I'm so glad your okay, Y/n," Lemon says, using your real name.

"I'm glad your okay too, Brian," You say, doing the same as him.

"Lets go find Tangerine and then get to the safehouse, I wanna get the fuck outta here as soon as possible, fuck this shit." Lemon says, pulling you next to his side as he begins walking.

"I agree. Are we going to take him back to London with us though?" It was a morbid thing to think about but thats one thing you had to worry about ever since you've started doing this job with them.

Lemon sniffles before letting out a small hum.

"I'm sorry darling," You say, grabbing his hand and rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

The ending of it was just a little bit cheesy and I didn't really know how to end it but I genuinely enjoyed writing it so much, it took me forever to write though because every time I would save the draft after I added to it and went back to it, it would delete my work that I'd done even though it said it had saved. But anyways, I do really hope you liked it!

[blitzsicedcoffee]

Ficlet: No One's Coming

It's late but I'm craving more angst and whump so have this whatever it is.

Characters: Stolas, Blitz, and unknown attacker

Timeline: Who knows honestly, far enough that they're closer than normal. Possibly after Apology Tour? But they haven't like- said they care about each other out loud yet.

Blitz coughs, tasting metallic on his tongue. Fuck. He remembers...going to sleep on the couch after watching a shitty cowboy movie, where the fuck is he? His hands are tied up on a wall by his wrists. Tight. He struggles them but it's no use, his fingers are getting numb, actually. That's worrying.

"Hello?!" He calls out. "Hello?" He gets an answer. The voice sounds familiar and ..posh wait- "Stolas?!"

"Blitz?!" He replies and Blitz says 'Fuck' again under his breath.

"Do you know where we are?" Stolas asks him warily. Blitz gives a curt chuckle, "I uh-was hoping you knew Birdy. Any way you can get us out of here? I can't even see you".

He hears a sigh come from the area across from him in the small room.

"I wish. But my arms are bound in blessed rope. It burns", his voice falters a bit but bites his beak and regains his composure, "I'm powerless right now".

"Fuck well-who could want both of us dead? Any ideas?" Blitz asks as he sees if his boot knife is there but it isn't. Everything was taken off his person. He kicks his boots off in annoyance.

"Uhm- Striker, that crimson fellow, Stella, Andrealphus, my father-" Stolas starts,

Blitz rolls his eyes under his blindfold, adding "And Mammon. Or Satan".

"Wait why would two sins be out for your blood?!" Stolas asks. Blitz chuckles, "Cause one's a cunt and the other one well- the book. Kinda broke the law Birdy babe", Blitz answers.

"Oh...right", he replies nervously.

"Still wouldn't have traded the experience for the world, though", Blitz mentions. Stolas is quiet for a moment, "Really?"

"Of course", he says.

"Well isn't that sweet", says Agent One as he enters the room.

"oh it's the fuckin human FBI guys! I forgot about you-" quips Blitz but then he screams as a hot brand is pushed against his leg.

"We aren't here for idle chitchat, demons", he says, Blitz panting and wincing behind the blindfold.

"What do you want?!" Stolas yells, struggling in his bonds and wincing as the blessed rope digs through his feathers, burning them.

Silence, as Agent One paces around the room, picking up another instrument. He takes the prod and hits Stolas's legs, making him call out, "AH!"

Blitz yells, "Fucker! Just tell us what you want!"

But the Agent stays quiet. He just continues prodding and branding one demon then the other. Then takes out other blessed weapons.

Blitz lets out a whimper that he tries to suppress as Agent one slides the unsharpened side of a blade against his arm. Making him tremble and the agent laughs.

"I didn't think you demons would be so fun to play with. Especially easy, too", they can hear the smile in his voice. This wasnt the Agent One that Blitz first met. He was changed, molded. By other beings. Angels perhaps. Trauma. Who knows. But this human seemed ruthless.

Stolas breathes heavily, "Please I'll tell you whatever you need to know just stop hurting him".

"No Stolas don't give into this pri-AHHH!" He screams as the blade digs up through his upper arm, and he can feel the blood dripping down as a white hot heat spreads through his shoulder.

Stolas yells, "Blitz!!!", pulling even more at the bonds now, cursing himself for not being physically stronger.

"Who says we want anything from you two?" Agent One Smirks, wiping the blade on his apron and walking over, pulling down both their blindfolds now, and they can see one another across the room. Blood caking each other's bodies. Down both their wrists and face and now Blitz's arm. Red and blue blood.

Blitz spits more blood taste from his mouth, "Then why?!"

Agent One laughs heartily, shocking both demons who look at one another in fear. "For fun of course", he says.

Tears fall down Stolas's face as Agent One takes a break, leaving them for a moment.

"Stols it's gonna be okay", Blitz reassures, but his face says otherwise. Stolas laughs, albeit a little madly, "Blitz No one knows we're here. No one's coming".

"Hey don't...don't say that maybe we'll last till morning and the M"s and Loona will notice I'm missing", he insists. But more tears are still falling down Stolas's face, mixing with the blood smeared on his feathers.

"And how will they know where we are?" He asks. Blitz opens his mouth to speak then closes it again, looking down.

"I...I'm sorry Stolas I'm usually the guy with words of encouragement in times like these but I...don't have any good news for us here" he tells him earnestly and Stolas bites his beak, "I know".

"Fuck it hurts", Blitz winces as the wound in his arm gets stretched by still being strung up by the rope. Stolas attempts to grab any of the weapons with his talons but they're too far away, and he falls back forward.

He hesitantly looks back up at Blitz, "I love you, you know" he says with shakey breath. Blitz takes a deep breath and lifts his head up, looking Stolas in the eyes.

"I...know", he says.

"You...know?!" He questions and Blitz opens his palms, "Yeah but only cause I...I love you too", he looks away and Stolas blinks.

"Wait you what?!", he says and Blitz narrows his eyes, "Is that so hard to believe?!" Stolas pouts with his face, "Well...yes. You spent a lot of time insisting you weren't".

Blitz sighs and leans back against the wall, "I'm sorry for that".

"We really waited til we're about to die to say this huh", Stolas says and Blitz chuckles, "Yeah we might be fucked".

Agent One walks back in, "Oh you definitely are", he says, walking over to the weapon rack. Perusing the weapons. He picks up a blessed short sword and walks near Stolas, putting it to his throat.

"Any last words, demon?" He asks and Blitz's pupils shrink, all words seemingly gone. He was about to watch the man he loves die.

"Tie arms further apart next time", he says. "What?" Agent One says when Stolas takes the short sword by the blade with the hand that he can move near his throat, switching the handle into his other hand and with a swift motion, slicing Agent One's throat.

Blitz watches with awe and smiles wide as the Agent holds his throat as he bleeds out, collapsing and the light leaving his eyes.

At a loss for words, Blitz watches as Stolas uses the sword still in his hand to cut the blessed rope on one hand, freeing it. Then switches hands and frees the other, then runs over to Blitz. Slowly feeling his power returning.

"That was fucking sexy", Blitz said, smiling. Though he was starting to lose consciousness from the pain in his arm and his eyes are drooping. Stolas uses the sword to cut his ropes as well, then throws the sword to the side and picks Blitz up, holding him close.

"In just a moment I can conjure a portal to Sloth, darling. Just need a little more strength", he says and Blitz gives him a derpy smile and holds his cheeks, giving him a weak kiss, "I love you Stols".

Stolas blushes and kisses him back, "I love you too Blitz".

[mdemn]

@demonzriti commissioned me to write this little silly fic for @sametrapeni the other day. it’s really just 1,065 words of crack mpreg!sam/paulie.

i’ve never written anything like it, but with the week i’ve been having, it was so refreshing & fun to write! i hope i did the idea justice for you & i hope it can bring a smile to @sametrapeni’s face! they’re lucky for a partner like you!! <33

read & enjoy if that’s your thing! and if it’s not but you have a self-indulgent thing (no matter how silly you think it is!) you’d like for me to write for you, check out my kofi! & my ao3 for writing refs & commission rules! but know there’s really very little i wouldn’t write & can/will do other fandoms!

Paulie walks his fingers over Sam’s tummy, and Sam won’t ever admit it, but it’s the number one thing he’ll miss the most about the pregnancy.

Though lucky for Sam, he doesn’t have to, because Paulie does it for him. “I’ll miss this.” Paulie mutters, flattening his hand to rub over the hard lump where the baby’s resting. “Feelin’ ‘em in here like this. Knownin’ you’re really carryin’ ‘em. Our baby.”

Sam rolls his eyes, fighting the smile tugging at his lips. “I won’t. This shit is for th’ birds.”

Paulie laughs, loud and full, and at this Sam does smile. It’s impossible not to.

“Sam, I—“

Sam cuts Paulie’s words off with a groan, loud and long. He tilts his head back against the headboard and cradles his stomach. He sighs through his teeth, he can almost feel his eye twitching as the pain radiates through his lower back.

“Sam? Sammy? Hey, what’s wr—“

“Shut up, Paulie.” Sam grits out, like every word takes incredible effort.

Paulie’s alarm only grows as he sits up. He looks down at Sam and Sam contemplates punching Paulie right upside the head. Sam has begun to sweat just a little, his thick eyebrows furrowed in concentration. His breathing is labored and concentrated.

“It’s. I think.” Sam takes a deep breath, groaning through the pain again, “Christ. Christ, Paulie. I think it’s time.”

“Time? For what? Sammy, time for what?” Paulie asks, his voice raising in alarm with each question.

Sam looks at him with a flat affect. And again, he considers hitting Paulie.

“Oh, I don’t know, Paulie. Time for some fuckin’ tea and cakes, maybe? Maybe time to go for a light stroll? Maybe time for a shower? Jesus Christ. I think the baby’s coming you fuckin’ dunce!” Sam yells, his eyes slipping back closed, his breathing laboring even more with every breath.

The panic shows on Paulie’s face as he throws the blanket off of them. “What?”

“Paulie. Don’t piss me off.” Sam answers, his voice still on edge.

Another contraction hits Sam and this time he groans loudly, bringing his knees up. He nearly screams, his hand slipping under his shirt to rub at the skin of his taunt stomach. The baby is much lower than it had been previously. And Sam doesn’t know anything about birth or babies and really isn’t sure how they ended up in this predicament in the first place but Jesus Christ this hurts. How did Tommy ever convince Sarah to do this twice?

“Sam. Sammy. You have to breathe. What did Sarah say? Like HEE-HAHH-HEEE-HOO—“

“Paulie. I’m going to fuckin’ shoot you. I swear to God, I will. I swear to fuckin’ God.”

“Sam. That’s not breathin’. Maybe you need to stand? Walk around, right?” Paulie jumps out of bed and puts his hands on his lower back, and starts pacing around, “Like this, right? Sarah did a lot of walkin’ when she had her baby girl. Oh Christ, should we call Sarah? I’m gonna call Sarah.”

“Paulie.” Sam grits again, then groans, another near scream. “Sam!” Paulie rushes to Sam’s side, places his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Baby? What is it?”

“Sit.” Sam takes another deep breath, “Down.”

Paulie nods, and sits on the edge of the bed, snaking his arm around Sam’s shoulders. He stays still for about another minute, before Sam feels another wave of pain, similar to the first, hit him like a ton of bricks.

He tries not to let on how badly it hurts, but honestly? Getting shot hurt less.

Paulie notices Sam tense and he jumps out of bed again, “I’m callin’ Sarah.” he mutters, mostly to himself, as he nearly sprints out of the room.

Sam had known, realistically, that Sarah would be his midwife. There’s no one he’d trust more. Sarah had two children, and had had them at home, more or less by herself. But the idea of Sarah seeing him like this, in pain, writhing, the idea is mortifying.

However, he doesn’t have time to deal with that, as the pain takes over again.

“Paulie!” Sam shouts, followed by another groan, “Get. In. Here. With. Me.” He forces every word out and in the silence in between words, he can hear Paulie talking, muttering, the scratch of a pen, like he’s taking notes.

“Just a minute, baby. Hold on!” Paulie calls back, then Sam can hear him mutter, “And what else, Sarah? Hurry. What else? Are you sure you can’t be here no sooner?”

Sam is feeling homicidal actually. He thinks it’s time to give into it. He might just kill Paulie before he ever gets to see his big-headed baby.

Sam has just about settled on the fact he’ll be a single father when Paulie comes back with a cup of ice and a small hand towel from the kitchen.

“I’m here, Sammy. I’m here.” he mutters, rushing to the bed.

“Sarah said this will help. Here.” Paulie leans over and puts a damp towel on Sam’s head. It’s ice cold and oddly, supplies immediate relief. Sam hadn’t realized he was so hot.

“She said you can chew on this ice. Don’t know what it’s supposed to do but she swears by it.” Paulie pushes the cup into his hands. “And to take your pants off. Which you know I have no problem with. Heh.” Paulie chuckles and reaches for Sam’s pants.

And the homicidal urge fills Sam again. He grabs Paulie’s wrist, almost spilling his cup of ice, “Don’t. Fuckin’. Touch. Me.” Sam grits, through crunches of the ice.

Paulie laughs, has the audacity to laugh. This causes Sam’s eye to actually twitch.

“Well, had you been sayin’ that 9 months ago, maybe we wouldn’t be in this, huh?”

Sam stares at him. He feels the rage fill in every pore of his body, and he realizes he has to speak, because if left alone with his thoughts for a moment longer, he’d kill Paulie. Truly and honestly.

“Paulie. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Get out!”

“Now c’mon Sammy—“

“OUT!”

“Okay, okay!” Paulie laughs, and that beautiful crooked smile doesn’t leave his lips, and Sam is in limbo between wanting to shoot Paulie and to kiss him until they’re both breathless. Which of course makes Sam more upset.

Sam waits for Paulie to be turned around before he starts to strip out of his pants. He loves Paulie. More than life itself, and God, anyone knows that. But Christ.. he hopes their baby doesn’t get his sense of humor.

[theemporium]

Ok but lestappen birthday month is wild (this got way longer and angstier than I anticipated)

I believe that Charles is one to spoil Max rotten on his birthday, have a chat with you about letting Max have total no veto unless he’s hurting you control for the night and the mascara and the lip gloss absolutely make a reappearance and Max is in complete bliss

so Max knows he has a little over two weeks to top that and he’s planning all kinds of stuff with the idea of letting Charles be the dom for the night, from making a reservation at the most delicious restaurant in Monaco down to ordering a pair of red leather assless chaps for himself that he once saw Charles looking at for a moment too long

the one thing he forgets to factor into his plan is you, so focused as he is on making himself appealing to Charles, to the point that when you ask him if he’s already made birthday dinner reservations he says yes without even thinking about the fact that he’s got a table for two

so when you come home on Charles’s birthday after work with a big bouquet of flowers and a bottle of expensive champagne and those new Air Max 1s that were impossible to get AND the sweater from Loro Piana that was sold out everywhere, ready to bake a cake and then step into the lingerie you bought for today, and the apartment is deadly quiet, you know something’s up

meanwhile, the boys have had a lovely afternoon - Max convinced Charles to put both phones on airplane mode because he had already talked to his mom and brothers and had plans with his friends on a different day - and, though Charles thinks it odd that you’re not here for the walk on the beach and the romantic dinner, he figures that surely you two have a plan

and, yeah, it’s weird that you also don’t show up when Max takes him out dancing after dinner, but by that point he’s drunk already and everything is blue eyes and big hands and plush lips anyway

so when they get home, Max resumes his ministrations immediately, pushing Charles up against the door and telling him that from here on out he’s in charge and his green eyes go dark like the ocean as they wind through the apartment to the bedroom, right past the champagne and the presents and the cake with the melted down 26 numeral candles that are still sitting on the kitchen table, and he goes to push Max down onto the bed when he hears a little whimper on impact

his heart cracks when he sees you waking up from where you had curled up on the bed in the little red lace number that he could see your nipples right through and looking at him bleary-eyed to say “Charlie? I wanted to say happy birthday before it’s over, baby, did I miss it? Why weren’t you picking up the phone? Did you guys at least have some of the cake? I made your favorite”

Max is immediately scrambling to hold you, bracing himself for the impact of having fucked up catastrophically, turning his face back up to Charles to see the expression melding sadness and anger and guilt as you slip out of his arms and mumble something about sleeping in the guest room and how they were in Singapore for your birthday anyway and couldn’t get the times right so they didn’t even call on the day

and as he follows you out of the room, Charles mumbles “happy birthday to me, fuckin thanks, Maxie”

I—

oh my god??? ouch??? babe, why are being angsty today?????🤠

no but max would feel so fucking guilty and just😭😭😭😭😭😭NO THIS IS SO SAD!!! POOR READER!!!!