#with richie draped over him......

[wolftozier]

stozier cat parents. thats it send the tweet

[becsabillion4]

false god (we still worship)

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary: Carmen has a bad shift, but you’re more than willing to turn his night around and show him exactly how good he is.

word count: 3,362

tags: SMUT, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, creampie, semi-public sex, window sex, lingerie, praise kink, vulnerable Carmy, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and yet again NOT an advert for safe sex. with that said, it’s fucking hot ;) and thank you to the wonderful person who submitted the prompt that inspired this, based around Carmy having a tough day and reader taking care of him (even though I’ve failed at tumblr and can’t find the original message). enjoy!!

thesydkid

Yo. Awful shift. Glad you weren’t here to see it.

whochefsouschef

fuckkk what happened?

thesydkid

Newbies think they know better than Tina because they went to CIA. You can imagine how Carmy took that.

whochefsouschef

was it kyle? he’s been like that since he started.

thesydkid

Yeah

Classic

whochefsouschef

syd?

I know that’s not all. kyle doesn’t warrant a text warning

thesydkid

Carm got food sent back.

whochefsouschef

shit.

thanks for the heads up

thesydkid

Good luck, cya tomorrow.

—------------------------------

It’s late, the kind of late where even the drunks winding through the streets have stopped their singing, the kind where it’s already too late to go to bed and get an ounce of good sleep. It’s the kind of late where you would have known it was a bad night even if Sydney hadn’t texted you first, because you know how hard Carmy cleans when he’s upset, and exactly how long that takes.

You sit up in bed abruptly, pushing your hair out of your face and considering your options. You have maybe ten minutes if Sydney texted you as soon as Carmy left, ten minutes to decide how you want to handle this kind of bad day. You feel a surge of frustration that you weren’t on shift tonight. As the Front of House Manager, you could have soothed the moronic, greedy, power-tripping customer who wanted to pull one over on the best chef in Chicago by sending back his perfect food-

Actually, maybe it was for the best you weren’t on shift tonight, or you might no longer have a job.

You smile when you think about how Richie will have handled it though. His courteous, collected energy even as he probably said something like, “Oh, you’d like to send this back? Wow, I’ve never heard a, uh - what do you call ‘em - oh, complaint before. Are you sure you know what this dish is?”

The smile fades when you think about Carmy’s reaction. You push yourself out of bed, decided by the image of his frustration, the anger he uses to hide his sadness. There’s been a few particularly bad shifts since you and Carmy moved in together - and Richie labelled himself as “matchmaker to the stars” for hiring you - and you know that if left to his own devices, Carmy will happily stay up all night stewing.

But you’re here now, and you’re determined not to let him. So you set your plan in motion.

By the time you hear his keys clink in the lock, you’re settled by the sofa, bare skin slightly chilled by the evening air coming in from the cracked window. You glance up as Carmy walks in, catch his eye, and he stops dead, hand still on the lock.

Bluer-than-blue eyes flicker across the scene you’re presenting for him - your best lingerie, your patient kneel, steady eyes - and he straightens from his tired stoop.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes still tracing how the lace drapes across your skin in the low light.

“Hi,” you smile. “Join me?”

Without looking away from you, Carmy shuts the door, drops his stuff in a careless pile. “Syd texted?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to surprise you.”

Carmy’s eyes drift away from you for a second, glancing around the room, like he does when he’s thinking something through. You can almost hear his brain clicking through the gears. Turning the kitchen off, turning something else on.

“It was bad, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuckin’ shitty.”

“It’s over.” You raise a hand to him, tilt your head towards the sofa. “Get over here and let me do filthy things to you to make up for it.”

He laughs at that, toes off his shoes and takes the few steps to the sofa. He doesn’t sink into the cushions like you expected though, but kneels in front of you. You reach out, run a hand over the side of his face, feel the days-old stubble rasping under your touch. Bringing your other hand up, you cup his face, thumbs tracing over the bags under his eyes like you can smooth them out with that simple touch. You can feel his exhaustion in the way he leans forward into the feeling, and it breaks something in you.

When you kiss him, you intend for it to be careful and slow. Bring him out of his shell, remind him that things outside The Bear exist. But the moment your mouths press together, the moment you nip the edge of his bottom lip, the drained and defeated Carmy is gone.

He surges forward, almost sending you tipping over backwards, arms wrapping around your waist. One hand slides to your lower back, stretching to cover as much of your skin as he can possibly grasp. Pulling you forward, Carmy bows his head to suck a bruise into your throat and you know for damn sure it’ll be visible tomorrow. A glaring mark, a “fuck you” to the rest of the world painted on your skin.

Your hands are far from idle either, and as one pulls at his T-shirt, rucking it up to explore the muscles beneath, you run a finger from the other over the arch of his ear. Carmy shudders in a broad, full-body motion and his hips stutter, jerk forward into you. You both moan at the contact and you want to chase it, feel him pressed between your thighs, but clearly Carmy has other ideas.

He reaches under your arms and pulls you up to stand with him, letting his hands continue their journey down your sides to reach your waist. All you have time to do is gasp as he hoists you off your feet, and he’s already walking towards your floor-length window as you desperately try to wrap your legs around his waist. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe, the hand not holding you up pushing deep into your hair and curling strands around his fingers so he can pull your head back, press more kisses to the hollow of your throat.

For a dizzying moment, you can see the lights of Chicago upside down, but you manage to pull your head up just before your back hits the cold glass. You hiss at the chill against your bared skin and Carmy runs a hot palm around to your back in apology even as his tongue continues its insistent sweeps against your own.

You barely register the soft clink of his belt, the push and rustle of fabric between you until his cock is pressed close, the only thing keeping it from filling you your own stupid lacy underwear.

With a frustrated groan, Carmy gently lowers you until your feet sink into the carpet, but he still gives you no room to move, pressing you into the misted-up glass as if he can’t tear his body from yours.

“Carmy,” you pant, unsure what you’re asking, but you know he understands when he grabs your upper arm, spins you around to face the view. The glass is warmer now, but still cold enough that the press of your barely-concealed nipples to its surface makes you moan as you hear Carmy kneel, feel him sliding your panties down your legs.

He doesn’t even let them reach your ankles before he’s up again, kissing his way along your spine as he goes, and finally, finally, the head of his cock nestles in where it needs to be.

Its hot and heavy presence has you pushing your hips back, wanting to feel the glorious slide of him, lose yourself in the moment he splits you, and all you can see, eyes half-slitted in pleasure, are the glittering lights of the city below. You live pretty high up and the lights are low enough that none of the busy pedestrians below should see, but all it would really take is a glance up and an observant eye. To see your breasts pressed against the glass, Carmy’s possessive hands gripping your hips as he finally drives into you. Even from this distance, you imagine the pleasure on your own face and your walls flutter around Carmy until he growls, pulls your hands from where they were flat against the window into a bind behind you.

There is nothing kind and gentle about this moment, no give in Carmy’s body as he fucks into you, and you revel in it. Let him take his pain and translate it into pleasure through your body. Let him take and take and take until he has nothing left to give, and let the world see him doing it. Let them see what’s his.

These thoughts alone have you teetering, desperate for a few more strokes, but the surprise of Carmy reaching around to draw lazy circles over your clit as he snarls, “Fucking look at you, look how good you take me,” has you seizing up instantly. You can faintly hear your own surprised cry through the buzzing in your ears, and Carmy’s gasps as he feels you pulsate around him, but you only fully come back to yourself when you press your forehead against the blessedly cool glass.

The strength of your orgasm is enough that your legs are visibly shaking now, and without a word, Carmy bends to scoop up your lower half and pulls you in, cradling you across his front. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm your breathing as you push your face into his chest, but before you can even begin to get your head straight, you feel soft sheets on your back as he lowers you to the bed.

He sinks down beside you, and all his desperation from a moment ago is gone as his body finally relaxes. He’s still hard and straining towards you, but the light has dimmed in his eyes, so when you reach for him, it’s to run a hand across his cheek, to bring his eyes to yours. When you move towards him, it’s to curl your legs with his, to press your forehead against his and settle his breathing with your own.

People think Carmy is so used to taking shit that it doesn’t hurt him anymore, but you know. You know how each word drives so deep that he doesn’t know how to take good anymore, how he invites the anger and the aggression of a kitchen into his soul because the alternative is realising that all the shit he’s been through is too awful, too devastating to reconcile. To keep feeling it, so he has no time to wonder what his life would be without it.

You see the weakness and the fear and the vulnerability, and you know how he absorbs the feeling and translates it into his work, how he uses it to fuel him, how he turns the criticism and the insults and the hatred into being better, being perfect, doing a good job.

“You are so wonderful, Carmy,” you murmur, and when he tries to look away, you hold his head still. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. Shit, not really anything.” You’re silent, and he sighs as he caves under the pressure of your gaze. “Back when I was in New York, you remember that chef I told you about?”

You nod, because you know you can’t say anything remotely okay about that particular chef.

“He had this thing, about pasta. Thought he was some kind of expert because he spent, like, three months with Massimo Bottura. We had to boil water from cold every time, for every single batch of pasta we served, and there was this exact amount of salt we had to add. It wasn’t like a teaspoon, it was seven point three grams for every hundred of pasta. And he could fucking tell if you were off, he barely had to taste it. One time I saw him smell somebody’s pasta and tell them they were off by point two.” Carmy’s voice is shaking, and you move your thumb along his cheekbone slowly, calmly, giving him something to root himself to. Remind him he’s not there.

“And I was thinking about it while I was cooking the bucatini, and it’s like he was in the room again, saying the same shit he always did. Watching over my shoulder as I added the salt, and it made me so mad,” Carmy mutters, breaths coming in pants now. “And I didn’t even think, I just added like way too much salt. Enough to fuckin’ ruin it, ‘cos I just wanted to see him choke on it. And then I sent it out.”

You don’t take your eyes from his face as you curl one hand down to straighten the fingers of his, to stop the nails he’s digging deep into his palm from cutting into his skin.

“And of course it got sent back, and Richie apologised and comped their bill, and they didn’t care. But, like, I just sabotaged my own restaurant. My own reputation, becuase I can’t stop fuckin’ thinking about salting pasta,” Carmy finishes in a rush, and he finally meets your eyes.

“Carmy, you’re working in a kitchen every day. It’s no surprise you remember other kitchens you’ve been in, and the kind of behaviour you’ve had to endure. But it’s not that kitchen anymore. This is your kitchen we’re talking about, your space. When you look over your shoulder, he’s not there anymore. Syd is, and she’s got your back. We’re not some pristine, sterile team with no heart. Richie’s there.” You feel a surge of emotion so strong for the brilliant, vulnerable man in front of you that you push your face into his shoulder, hard enough that he has to steady himself from falling back onto the bed. His other hand comes up to card loosely through your hair, and you suppress a soft noise of comfort to finish with, “I’m there.”

“I know, baby,” he responds, pulling you closer until you’re practically curled into his lap. “And I think it’ll get easier, it’s already easier. I just don’t think I’ll ever entirely stop sabotaging myself. I’m not like the food I make, I’m not composed and-and, perfect. I’m not, uh, not always good at stuff.”

“Okay, but you’re good plenty of the time,” you whisper, looking up at him. You smile as he glances down, catches your eye. “I could go on for days about the stuff you’re good at.”

“Oh yeah?” Carmy murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, down and round the edge of your face to the shell of your ear. You shiver instinctively, press into the feeling.

“You’re good at that. Good at getting me out of control,” and your voice is already shaking.

“You’re not out of control, babe. I’ve got you. You’re mine,” Carmy is muttering inbetween kisses as he rolls you onto your back, pins your arms to your sides with his legs and begins to fully slide off your lingerie, slowly, carefully. His hands are, as always, steady. You remember all the times you’ve watched him roll a cigarette, piece together edible art as flames lick at his chef’s whites, and you can’t remember a time you’ve seen them shake.

From the eye of the storm he’s creating in you, you watch as he slides down the bed, skimming his lips across your trembling thighs until he sits back, and moves his hands to your knees.

You can almost feel the pleasure it gives him as, at the lightest touch from him, you part your legs, let him see what he does to you. What he has done. When he growls, you realise he can see remnants of your earlier escapade against the window at your entrance, his come marking you.

When Carmy dips his finger inside you, your hips jerk towards him, but he holds them down with one hand. His finger delves deep for a moment, and then leaves you suddenly, but before you can protest, he brings his hand to your face, offers you the digit. You’re entranced by the silent command in his eyes, and with no hesitation, you open your mouth and let Carmy’s come-covered finger slide inside, press deep towards the back of your throat. When you swallow, the bitterness makes you moan, envision being on your knees for Carmy, his fingers twined so deep into your hair it hurts, feeling his white-hot heat at the back of your throat.

It breaks whatever tension was stretched taut between you, and Carmy wraps his arms around your legs, pulls your body towards him and lowers his face between your thighs. For a moment, he teases you, nibbling at the juncture where your leg curves into your hip, skimming his teeth across the bone, but you know he’s secretly just as impatient as you are, and when he takes his first tender lick across your clit, he moans even louder than you do.

Giving head is an art for Carmy, and feels like a privilege to you. You’ve seen him enjoy food in the kitchen, give somebody that blown-away glance that they’ve worked their whole lives to see, but he never takes more than one bite.

But this, with you, as you watch him devour you whole...It’s the only meal you’ve ever watched him finish.

Tongue swirling delicately across your center, breaking for hungry kisses to your thighs as his hands grasp at any inch of you he can reach, you can’t help the words that spill from you, “yes, yes, Carmy, you’re so good, you make me feel so good, my good boy, please-“, but you can’t continue as he slides two fingers deep inside your aching pussy, so deep you don’t ever want him to move.

At this point in the erotic novels you read during your lunch break (which, if Fak were to find them, would spell the end of your career), the heroine says something about how it feels like hours pass with her lover between her legs. But this is real life, and all Carmy has to do is mutter, “Finish for me baby, finish for me,” for you to come embarrassingly quickly.

You’re practically incoherent on the comedown, and all you can summon the strength to do is pull him into you, press kisses to his forehead and mumble over and over how fucking amazing he makes you feel.

“If you lose everything else, Carmy, if you ever think there isn’t a thing in this world you’re any good at, just know that you are a god at giving head,” you pant eventually, and when he pushes his face into your neck, you can feel his smile there.

For a moment more, you just enjoy the press of his body against yours, revel in the sweat and slick between you. It dawns on you slowly just how slick it feels, and you gasp as you realise-

“Carmy, did you-?”

Carmy laughs into your skin, tracing one hand across your chest idly until you shiver. “Yeah. You, uh, you were moaning and telling me how good I was and…it was hot.”

You laugh with him breathlessly, still kind of in awe at how well you fit after all this time, how at home you feel with him. “Well, I hope that made your bad day a little better.”

Carmy is silent for a second before he murmurs, “You have no idea what you do for me,” and you can see the shine of his eyes in the glitter of the city lights filtering through your window. “There can never be a bad day if I end it right here, in this bed, in your arms.”

You would reply, but he’s kissing you into silence before you can, and you wonder for a moment if any words will ever need to be said between you and Carmy again, or whether you can communicate all the fear, all the anger, all the love, just with kisses and touch and his lips against yours. But eventually, as you slip into sleep with his body twined around yours, you decide that tongues were made for more than just talking.

[aestheticaltcow]

No Phone Policy 5.0

Trigger/Content Warning: DV themes to an extent, prayers, lots of anxiety mentions, abandonment?

I feel like I got a little too angsty with this one, but remember, y'all permitted it.

Previous Part Next Part

The Bear Masterlist

You were frozen. One of Carmy’s arms was draped around your waist as he slept peacefully. All you could do was stare at the wall and wait for Wolf to cry so you’d have an excuse to leave the room. But the cries didn’t come. The room was filled with the white noise of the overhead fan and Carmy’s soft snores. You swallowed and tried to focus on anything besides the twinge of pain Carmy had inflicted on your wrists. What were you going to do? Carmy had never done anything like this before. All the after-school specials and PSAs you’d seen as a kid said that domestic violence starts small. The abuser tests the waters - see what they can get away with. You were the perfect victim in some way.

A month postpartum, maybe $500 to your name, some family but not many friends… but Carmy wasn’t an abuser? Was he? You racked your brain for hours trying to compartmentalize the last five years of your life. Was Carmy the perfect friend? No. He wasn’t always the ideal boyfriend, fiance, or husband, as evident by how he’d been ignoring you the weeks prior to you giving birth, but he wasn’t that kind of man. He wasn’t the kind of man who had to hurt people to feel significant or noteworthy. He wasn’t the kind of man who had to manipulate or lie to people to get what he wanted. Hell, it took months of you asking before he dared to smack your ass in bed- he wasn’t the type to lay hands on you. As you lay in bed with him, your brain racked with any other times Carmy may have done something subtle, something you missed that could have been a predictor of what happened. You were brought out of your downward thought spiral when Wolf’s soft cries came over the baby monitor. Fear washed over you when you felt the weight of Carmy’s arm disappear. 

Carmy mumbled something before getting out of bed and slowly exiting the master bedroom. When he was gone, you rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. “1,3,5,7,11,13,17,19…” you counted under your breath as you watched the ceiling fan slowly turn in counter-clockwise circles, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference…” you whispered to yourself. As you took another deep breath, you heard footsteps approach the bedroom. You closed your eyes and rolled back to your previous position. 

As Carmy got back into bed, you felt your stomach twist, “She’s okay, baby. Just needed a diaper change…” he whispered as his arms snaked around your waist. You felt like you were going to throw up when he pulled you to meet him in the middle of the bed. 

~

“So all it took was havin’ a kid?” Cerico laughed as he read the email Carmy had sent the night prior. “Hey, it’s sweet. He’s growin’ up.” Natalie commented as she scrolled through the email on her laptop, “Also, I don’t know how he spelled ‘special’ wrong four times with spell check.” 

“Okay—updates for the menu… so we are doing a singular special every night. It’ll highlight whatever produce is fresh from the farmer’s market. We'll make weekly menus instead of changing the menu every night. We’re also switching food vendors, so if you want extra hours, we’ll need an additional couple of sets of hands to unload the orders.” Syd explained this to the wait staff during their daily meeting before the dinner service. The sense of relief in the room was palpable; Richie thanked Syd for explaining the changes before taking the lead for the rest of the meeting. 

Carmy was sitting in the office that night when Richie found his way inside. He immediately noticed a picture of Wolf pinned on the corkboard above the computer, surrounded by post-it notes and various unpaid bills. He grinned and pulled a chair to the desk, “What’s good cousin?” 

Carmy looked up from his notebook when he heard Richie’s question. He shrugged, “I’m off the next couple of days… tryin’ help Syd out with some special ideas.”

“How are things at home?” Richie probed. Carmy shrugged again, much to his annoyance. “Y/N still pissed at you?” 

“We’re good. Babys good. Everything is okay.” Carmy answered as he ripped the page from his notebook and stuck it to the corkboard before getting up from his chair. Richie’s brow creased at Carmy’s explanation. There was no way ‘everything is okay’; he missed the birth of his child. While he hadn’t known for that long, he knew there was no way you’d just let Carmy off the hook like that. 

Carmy walked through the front door and heard noises coming from the kitchen. He smiled to himself as he found his way into the kitchen. Your back was turned to him; Wolf sat in her pastel Bumbo seat on the counter, babbling. You laughed along with her babbling as he stood in the doorway watching you wash dishes and continue your ‘conversation’ with Wolf. Carmy came into the kitchen and hugged you from behind, startling you. He felt you swallow hard as your body tensed. He pushed the concern out of his head and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek. 

“How you doin’ baby?” he asked as he let his arms fall and turned his attention to Wolf. You clenched your fist behind your back, watching Carmy lift Wolf out of her seat and cuddle against him. You shrugged, “Goin’ great. She napped like a champ, and I got some work done from home.” 

Carmy smiled as he rubbed Wolf’s back softly, “That’s great, baby.” You nodded in agreement and returned to finishing what you’d been doing before Carmy had gotten home. It had been a few weeks since Carmy did what he did, and you still felt conflicted about the entire situation. He was trying to be present and involved with all things parenting, but you couldn’t shake the way he’d hurt you. He pretended like it never happened. 

~

“How’d her appointment go?” Carmy asked as he entered the bedroom with a towel around his hips.

You locked your Kindle before meeting his gaze. “She’s good. She got four shots and was super pissed at me for like an hour, but she’s good now.” 

Carmy chuckled, “Did Feyre and Rhysand finish rebuilding the night court yet?” he asked as he got a pair of underwear from his drawers. You rolled your eyes at the question, “Not yet. I got to a good part, though.”

“How’d work go?” you questioned as Carmy got into bed. He shrugged, “It wasn’t anythin’ special. Just missed my girls…” his voice had dropped an octave as he scooted closer to you in bed. You felt your body tense as he snaked his arms around your waist. You glanced at the baby monitor, praying for Wolf to start crying. The idea of being intimate with him made you feel cold and clammy.

“Carm…” you trailed off as you tried to wiggle out of his grip, “I-I-I” you stuttered as you felt him press a kiss into the exposed skin of your shoulder. You squeezed your eyes closed as Carmy moved to hover above your body. The hair on your arms stood when you felt Carmy’s thumb run across your jaw. “I miss you baby… I know I fucked up, and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life tryin’ to make up for it… let me make you feel good…” he cooed. 

Before you could answer his demand, his lips were on yours. Blood rushed to your ears as he feverishly kissed you. Carmy was desperate to alleviate the frustrations that had been building since you came home from the hospital. Watching you take care of his baby left him feeling feral. The desire to ravage you had met its breaking point this evening when you strolled into the living room in those silky pajama shorts with the lacy trim. The pastel green popped against your skin; the material was tight around the fat of your thighs and beckoned for him to take you there and then. He just had to wait for the baby to go down.

Your stomach twisted as Carmy’s lips made their way down your jawline and neck toward your collarbone. As he sunk his teeth into the sensitive skin, you felt as if you were going to throw up. “Carmy,” you sniveled as he pushed a hand under the band of said silk shorts, lacing his fingers in the band of your underwear. You went unheard as Carmy sucked a hickey into your collarbone, “Carmy!” you cried as you brought your palms to his chest to shove him aside. 

Carmy was perplexed but concerned when he realized you were hyperventilating. “Baby- baby, are you okay?” he asked as he reached for you. You pushed yourself off the bed, stumbling as you rushed into the bathroom, desperate to get as far away from Carmy as quickly as possible. Carmy’s brow tensed as he scrambled to get out of bed, pulling on a pair of gym shorts that had been discarded on the bedroom floor before he got into the shower. 

Carmy knocked on the door before trying the doorknob. The door was locked, and he could hear your heavy sobs from the other side of the door. “Baby- Y/N, baby, talk to me. Did I do somethin’ wrong?” 

“LEAVE ME ALONE, CARMEN!” you chastised him through the door as your body shook. You sought comfort in the corner of the bathroom by the bathtub. With shaky fingers, you tried to tap against your skin to ground yourself, but the coping skin proved unsuccessful. 

“Baby? Please open the door,” Carmy pleaded shakily. “Y/N? Let me help you, baby.” He rested his forehead against the door as he jingled the doorknob. You didn’t respond to his pleas. Carmy took a deep breath. “Baby, please. " He begged and bargained for you to open the door. 

“CARMY, JUST-JUST GO AWAY!” Your voice cracked as you yelled through the bathroom door. You didn’t care about waking Wolf; you just wanted him to leave. “Baby, let me in. Let me help you,” Carmy demanded as calmly as he could. You took a deep breath before pushing yourself up from the floor. If you did this, it had to be quick.

The door flung open to Carmy’s surprise. You pushed past him and ran out of the bedroom. “Baby?!” he called after you as he tried to catch up with you. “Baby?! What the fuck! Talk to me!” he yelled as you reached the top of the stairs. He reached out and managed to get a hold of your wrist. Your eyes were wide as your mind flashed back to the last time he’d grabbed you like this.

You yanked your wrist out of his grip and quickly blinked away the tears welling in your eyes. You had to get away from him. “Y/N!” Carmy yelled as you stumbled down the stairs, tripping on your way. You landed on your hip hard, as a hiss of pain came out of your mouth as Carmy joined you at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Baby? Are you okay?!” Carmy sputtered as he pushed your hair out of your face. You shook your head and tried to push him away from you as he helped you sit at the bottom of the stairs. “Fuck Y/N! Let me fuckin’ help you!” Carmy protested as you pushed yourself away from him and up from the ground in a swift movement. 

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE CARMEN! I FUCKIN’ HATE YOU, ASSHOLE!” you screamed at the top of your lungs as you grabbed your bag from the table by the door. Wolf’s cries echoed throughout the house as Carmy watched you storm out of the house. 

“What the fuck?” Carmy grunted as tears started rolling down his cheeks. He sat momentarily on the stairs to compose himself before getting up to go into the nursery. 

“I’m sorry, princess…” he cooed as he picked Wolf up from her crib. She wailed louder as Carmy brought her to his chest. As he bounced her in his arms, he couldn’t shake the thoughts of something bad happening to him. “Mommy’ll be okay… I got you right now…”

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Samantha // Sam Carpenter

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: being with sam has brought you nothing but happiness, and these memories with her only prove how perfect the two of you are for each other.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, brief allusions to smut, language, mentions of roachie kirsch

word count: 1.9k

a/n: fem!reader, i was gonna make it gn!reader but the song this fic is based on is sapphic so i felt like i should keep it that way, no ghostface au

join my taglist! album masterlist!

I think I've been yours since 4th grade

We met in 5th, you corrected me

From my bed, and I said

Technically since 2nd but I reckon the time has just flown by and my

Memory's shit, so

You smiled to yourself as you gazed at your girlfriend, Sam, who was currently asleep beside you. Despite your protests, she had claimed that she wasn’t too tired to watch a movie like the two of you had been planning. And yet, not even half an hour in, she was fast asleep on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder as she curled up beside you. No matter how many times you looked at her, you could never get over how beautiful she was.

For as long as you could remember, Sam was always there. You had gone to elementary school together, and finally became friends during middle school. High school and college came and went, and the two of you continued to grow impossibly closer. Sometimes it was hard to tell where you ended and where she began. And as time went on, feelings began to change, and the friendship between the two of you started to become something more. 

Falling in love with someone that you had known for so long was indescribable. There was no awkward talking stage or embarrassing first dates. Everything just felt so natural. So right. Like she was the only person you would ever need, and she had already been there the whole time. You draped your arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer to you, taking the blanket that was lying on your lap and placing it over her.

You grabbed the remote and turned the movie off. You could always just finish it some other time. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before resting your head on top of hers.

“Goodnight, my love.”

But all I ever remember is you

And all I ever say is "I miss you more"

You're everything that I ever knew

You're the only girl that I am for

“I’m the first girl you’ve ever been with, right? Is it any different from being with a guy?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked over at Sam.

She nodded, a smile breaking out on her face. “It’s so different. And so much better. You actually know how to listen and you’re so much more affectionate.” The smile on her face turned into a teasing smirk. “Plus, you actually know how to make me cum.”

Your face heated up in a blush, her comment flustering you instantly. You grabbed a pillow from beside you on the couch, chucking it at her as an embarrassed laugh fell from your lips.

“Sam!” you scolded, giggles still spilling from your mouth in disbelief.

She shrugged before throwing the pillow right back at you. “What? It’s true! I’m pretty sure Richie didn’t even think the clit was real.”

You let out another snort of laughter. “God, I still can’t believe you ever even dated him. You can do so much better than that… thing.”

“I am doing better. I have you.”

Samantha, I'm in love with you

I'll do anything you ask me to

You're the reason that I dyed my hair blue

Samantha, I'm in love with you

And I'll sing it again and again

“Oh my god! What did you do to your hair?!” Sam asked, a disbelieving smile on her face as she struggled to hold back her laughter.

You had attempted to dye your hair blue to surprise her, since she had always been very fond of the color. You thought it might’ve made her happy, to have another one of her favorite things to associate with you. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been the best in picking the color. You were hoping for something more subtle, the kind of blue that looked black, with the colorful hue only visible in the light. What you ended up with was a bright and vibrant color, bordering on neon. You were upset, understandably so, and Sam’s joyful laughter at your predicament did nothing to ease your frustration.

 “It was supposed to be a surprise. You said that blue was your favorite color, so I thought I’d dye my hair blue. It wasn’t supposed to be this bright!” you huffed, leaning back against the bathroom counter as you pouted.

“You look like a smurf threw up on you!” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Ha ha. Very funny. Can you help me? There’s gotta be some way to fix this.”

She nodded, walking over to you. “Alright, let’s see what I can do. This color is probably not gonna come out, so we’re gonna have to dye it black.”

You frowned as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. “At least we can match.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Or, we could always just shave it off.”

The look on your face alone was enough to send Sam into another fit of laughter. You glared at her, trying to seem angry or at least even a little bit annoyed, but you couldn’t ever hold it together around her that long. Her smile was contagious and her laughter was infectious. Just being around her had a way of lifting your mood. But you wouldn’t want it any other way.

There aren't words to describe

The way I feel about your eyes

And everything I write sounds cliche, but

I can't help that I think about you every day

“Why’re you staring at me? Is there something on my face?” Sam asked, reaching up to her mouth to see if some of her lunch was still left on her skin.

You simply smiled and shook your head. “No, nothing’s there. You’re just so beautiful. How could I not stare at you?”

Though she tried to hide it, you could see the faint blush spreading on her cheeks and that flustered smile of hers that never failed to fill your insides with a swarm of butterflies. You reached out and took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers as you smiled over at her. You pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, causing the faint blush on her cheeks to deepen ever so slightly, filling you with a sense of pride. 

“I love you. You know that, right?” you asked, your smile never once faltering. 

“Of course I do. You only tell me like every five seconds.” She smiled over at you. “Not that I mind it in the slightest.”

“I just still can’t believe that I’m with you. That we’re together. It feels like a dream. You’re just so perfect. Like every single thing I could’ve ever wanted in a partner, all rolled up into one person.”

She rolled her eyes, her smile never leaving her face. “Oh please. I am far from perfect. If anything, you’re the perfect one here. I mean you put up with all my shit. Just being able to do that is perfect enough.”

“I do not put up with you. I love everything about you and I love being with you. Despite what you may think about yourself, you are not difficult to be with. Richie just couldn’t handle all your perfectness and awesomemazingness.”

She raised an eyebrow at you. “That’s not a word”

You shrugged, smiling defiantly. “Well, it should be. Because it describes you perfectly.”

“Oh does it now?”

“It does.”

Before Sam could respond, you leaned in and pulled her into a kiss, silencing any other protests about to leave her lips. You knew she was perfect, and even if she didn’t agree with you, you could damn well at least stop her from voicing those thoughts. And you knew that one day, you would convince her.

And every night

And every morning

And afternoon

And all the time

Sam laughed in disbelief as she looked down at her phone, scrolling through all of the messages you had sent her in the past hour. 

“Baby, I told you I wasn't going to be gone long. I was just down the street getting groceries. Did you really need to text me that many times?”

Most people would be annoyed with your clinginess, but not Sam. She liked how clingy you were, how obsessed you were with her. It’s harder to doubt someone’s feelings for you when they never leave you alone long enough to get lost in spiraling thoughts. She had been gone for an hour to go get groceries, and you had texted her almost fifty times during your time apart.

“Yes. I really did need to. How else would you know about everything you missed while you were gone?”

She sighed in faux exasperation, her smile giving away her true feelings. “You sent me ‘bird in tree chirped’ like five times!”

“Six, actually. And I thought you should know, because that happened to be a very cute bird. I wouldn’t text you if I didn’t think it was important.”

She let out a huff of laughter as she walked over to you, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head. You melted into the embrace, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“You’re lucky you’re so adorable.”

“Oh, please. You love me and you know it.”

But all I ever remember is you

And all I ever say is "I miss you more"

You're everything that I ever knew

You're the only girl that I am for

“Can’t you just call in sick today?” you whined as you clutched onto Sam, preventing her from getting out of bed to get ready for work. 

“Baby, you know I can’t. We need the money. And since you decided you wanted to be the housewife, I’m the one who has to go to work. But if you want to swap, I’d be more than happy to,” she smiled, a teasing lilt to her voice.

You huffed, a slight pout forming on your face. “No…”

“Then you have to let me get up. I can’t exactly get ready for work if I’m still stuck in bed.”

“Do you have to get up right now? Can’t you wait just a little longer? Maybe spend an extra few minutes paying attention to your oh-so amazing girlfriend?” You looked at her pleadingly, using your best puppy dog eyes to persuade her.

“Y/n…” Sam started, only for all her rebuttals to wash away the second you started pressing gentle kisses to her neck.

“You know you want to…” you said, your hands slipping beneath her shirt.

“You know what? I think I have a flat tire. How unfortunate that I’m gonna be late to work since I had to get it fixed.”

You smiled triumphantly, rolling onto your back and pulling Sam on top of you. Even though she puts in effort to try to deny you, droning on and on about work and responsibilities, she can never say no to you. You had the ability to make her resolve crumble with just one look, and she couldn’t find it in her to deny you when all you ever really wanted was more time with her. And so, another morning was spent fooling around in bed before Sam rushed off to work, yet another excuse for her lateness at the ready. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Samantha, I'm in love with you

I'll do anything you ask me to

You're the reason that I dyed my hair blue

Samantha, I'm in love with you

And I'll sing it again and again

tags: @Hocksetterrs

if your name is crossed out, it means i can't tag you!

[aliensupastar]

not wrong, but not right

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You do your best to keep your head down at your job. When that doesn't work, Carmy's there for you anyways.

Part II Part III

Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, depiction of an eating disorder, vent fic, fainting, hospitals, slightly one-sided romantic feelings?

A/N: PLEASE mind the warnings! as mentioned, this is a vent fic with a reader that has an eating disorder. mostly made for my own comfort/self-indulgence, but i thought i’d post it anyways. title inspired by "ode to the mets" by the strokes, gif by heardchef <3

All things considered, your job could be worse. Honestly, you feel like you lucked out a bit, your hiring process being expedited due to Marcus being the one to recommend you to his boss, given that they needed new workers for their newly opened restaurant — you knew it was a good idea to stay in touch with that guy after high school. 

Working front-of-house with Richie could get overwhelming, to say the least. Dealing with him your first few weeks took a lot of adjustment, and a lot of holding back from calling him every foul name in the book. But it all smoothened out eventually. Your coworkers were nice, the pay was decent, the train ride was short. And your boss… well, it didn’t hurt that your boss was nice to look at. 

You’re a little embarrassed by it. You spend a little too much time looking at him when you’re supposed to be focused on your prep, and you always stop by the back office to say goodnight before you clock out, but you think you’ve kept it subtle enough to go unnoticed. You’ve gotten a little too good at that, going unnoticed. 

“Need me to do anything else before I head out?” You lean against the doorway of the tiny office as you say it, backpack already on and your jacket draped over your arms. Carmy’s sitting in his desk chair, bent over some paperwork and looking a little surprised at your question.

“Uh, no, we’re good here. But if you wanna stick around for a bit, Syd and I are makin’ something out of the food we were gonna have to throw out tonight, you could take some of it home with you. Save time on dinner.” He offers with a small smile. You hate the temptation that immediately springs up in you, because you want so badly to take him up on it. The smell of food in the kitchen is always mouthwatering, and when Carmy’s making dishes instead of being on expo, it somehow smells even better. 

You’ve never even tried Carmy’s cooking. You work for one of the most excellent chefs in the country, and you can’t even answer with an honest opinion when people ask you if the food at the restaurant is good. 

Despite all that, you shake your head, using the excuse of wanting to catch your train before it gets dark out, and he takes that easily. 

“Heard.” He nods, looking like he might want to say more. “Well, thank you, for showin’ up today. You were great.”

“Thank you, chef.” You reply, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the praise. “Goodnight, Carm.” 

Before you can change your mind, you turn and walk away, clocking out quickly, but you still hear him say “Night!” from behind you. 

When you make it onto a train car, safely on your way back to your apartment, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Maybe some other day, you think to yourself. It’ll be worth it to try the food some other day.

It had been one incident. That’s what you swore to yourself: one incident, one slip up, and it would never happen again. Besides, you think — or rather, hoped — Carmy’s forgotten about it. It was months ago, and things moved quickly in the restaurant, no time to dwell on things, especially not for the guy who has to run it. 

You’d gone out to the back alley of The Bear for a short break. You’d seen the others do it a million times, mostly for smoke breaks, but you didn’t need a cigarette. You needed to sit down, give yourself a chance to catch your breath as your vision started to swim and your ears felt like they had been filled with cotton. And, well, usually you didn’t need breaks like that, usually you didn’t allow yourself to take them like the others did, but there was a lull between the lunch and dinner rush and Richie didn’t need your help in the front, so you quietly slipped out the back door while hastily putting your coat on. Just this once, you let yourself slump against the wall, sliding down until you were sat on the pavement. You don’t even remember your consciousness fading, just your heartbeat thrumming in your ears while your eyes slipped shut. 

Carmy found you like that. He had barely noticed your extended absence, too busy catching up on more paperwork in his office before the dinner crowd poured in, and he decided he needed a smoke. It had almost startled him when he finally did notice you sitting there, your presence so quiet it took him a few seconds, before he also noticed you were asleep. He couldn’t blame you for that. He could use a fuckin’ nap these days. 

Still, he walked over and leaned down, nudging your shoulder with his hand to rouse you, muttering a quiet “hey.” But you didn’t wake, not even after a couple more pokes. And then he started to worry. 

When you came to, it was because of Carmy’s hands on both your cheeks, gently patting your face, his blue eyes wide with panic. You flinched a bit, startling at the realisation of what you'd done, swearing under your breath, and that was enough for Carmy to step back. 

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded quickly on instinct. 

“I’m- fine. Yeah, I’m okay.” You stumbled over your assurance, knowing he didn’t quite believe you from the way he raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

“What are you doing out here? You’re freezin’.” You bite your lip, embarrassed at being caught a bit red-handed, unconscious with your body temperature dropping. You’re usually better than that. Better at hiding behind smiles, concealer over your dark under-eyes, and excuses of being more of a big breakfast person to get out of eating family meals with the rest of your coworkers every afternoon. 

“Just tired. I’m fine.” You reply, hoping that’d be enough of an excuse, because everyone here is a little exhausted all the time. You pull yourself to your feet once he stands up from crouching in front of you, trying to convince him to just brush it off. “I'm good to keep going.”

You almost think that he buys that, before he stares at you a little bit longer, and you try not to shrink under his gaze. 

“People who are fine usually don’t take five minutes to wake up.” He says. You don’t have a comeback. 

“Yes, chef,” is the only thing you can say as you turn and walk back into the kitchen quickly, avoiding eye contact with him and making it through the rest of the day without needing another break, and without giving him a chance to talk to you again before you clock out that day. You don’t even stop by the office to say goodnight.

It was months ago, one time, and it wasn’t supposed to happen again. Not at work, not in the middle of a rush. That was just your luck, you guess, that you would get caught up working front-of-house, running between taking orders with Richie and handing out plates whenever you heard somebody yelling “Hands!” in the back, all while you hadn’t had anything more than water and a coffee in the morning in… fuck, you lost count of the days again. 

You pause to take deep breaths and sips of water when you can, but you guess it wasn’t often enough, because one second you’re picking up plates from the expo station and the next you’re collapsing, taking the dishes with you. 

When you wake up in a hospital bed afterwards, Carmy’s there. Slumped over in a plastic chair that can’t be comfortable, clad in a familiar checkered wool jacket. He’s asleep, but he’s here, and you don’t have the heart to wake him. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, but your heart fills with equal parts guilt and gratitude at the fact that he’s likely been sat by your side for hours. 

You turn your attention away from Carmy for a second, taking in the rest of your surroundings. The cotton hospital gown, the uncomfortably firm mattress beneath you, the beeping of an EKG to your left, and to your right- 

Your breath catches when you see it. An IV bag, steadily dripping fluid into you through the needle in your arm, innocuous but sinister. 

“Shit.” You breathe out. Now you’re panicking. Now you’re cursing yourself for not being able to hold it together long enough to get through a busy hour, and reaching for the bag to get a better look at the text that you hope and pray details it’s nutritional information, but you quickly snatch your hand back when the privacy curtain is peeled away by a nurse checking up on you. 

The sound of the curtain rings scraping against metal wakes Carmy, and the nurse smiles apologetically before turning to you and explaining what you already guessed: you're in ketosis, you fainted due to low blood sugar levels and a high-stress environment, you should take it easy and eat when you get home. You’ll be discharged as soon as your IV bag is finished. Fuck. You nod and smile along with everything she says, lying through your teeth about merely skipping breakfast that morning and thanking her for her time until you can get her to leave you alone again. 

Well, alone with your boss, who’s silent through the whole conversation.

You wait for a minute after the nurse leaves, before turning to your right and carefully lifting yourself onto your knees to tug the IV bag off its hook and flip it over, desperately scanning the printed text. You can’t even bring yourself to care that Carmy’s there anymore, even when you can feel his eyes on you, witnessing your silent panic. You can’t help it. 

You swear under your breath once you find what you’re looking for. When you do the math in your head, it’s- fuck- it’s hundreds of calories that they’re pumping into you. You hang the bag up and sit back, defeated, unable to do anything but fiddle with the thin blanket draped over your legs and curse yourself for not being more careful. 

“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Carmy asks gently after a few minutes, breaking the silence. You don’t know why that question makes your eyes fill with tears, even as you shake your head vehemently. 

“Nothing’s going on, Carm. I’m okay.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice neutral. He pauses for a moment, making you think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll drop it. 

“I know what ketosis means, chef.” You hate him a little bit for catching on. You were so sure you were flying under the radar, you could’ve kept your habits unnoticed if you had just not fainted again.

“Well, like I said, I skipped breakfast. I didn’t have time this morning.” 

“Then why didn’t you eat family with us instead?” He insists.

“Because-“ 

“Why aren’t you eating, chef?” 

You know he’s just concerned, as your boss, he can’t have you passing out at work so much. But you also can’t help the irritation that rises in you at his persistence. 

“Fuck you, Carmen,” is all you can come back with, and he scoffs. “I felt weird intruding on family when I never eat with you guys normally. There. I’m sorry me not eating this one time got in the way of my job, it won’t happen again.” You try to explain, but you already know he’ll see through that.  

“One time, along with the other time you fainted out back, and all the times you’ve refused to even taste a new dish we’re tryin’ out.” Your head snaps up, and you finally take a real look at him, taken aback by the fact that he would even be bothered to remember all that. He meets your irritation with nothing but softness in his eyes. “Talk to me.” He pleads. 

You can’t take it. You tear up again, wanting, needing to fight against the temptation to tell him everything because, God, you don’t know how much more you can take. 

“I can’t.” There’s no hiding your emotion anymore, your voice thick with tears. “Carmy- I- I can’t take it.” 

“Take what?” He asks, his voice still gentle.

“Any of it!” You’re full on sobbing now, desperately trying to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. 

“Hey,” He almost coos, standing to move closer to your bed and wrapping his arms around you, bringing your head to rest on his firm chest, and you let him. You don’t object when his hand moves to pet the back of your head while you gasp for breath through your sobs, and he doesn’t object when your hands land on his back, clinging to the white t-shirt under his coat and relishing in the warmth radiating from him. 

He doesn’t push you to say more. He holds you while you calm down, your breath evening out eventually, enough to speak straight. 

“I can’t tell you, Carmy.” You finally say, practically whimpering. “I can’t get the help you’ll want me to get, because- I can’t stop. I don’t know how, I- I don’t know another way anymore.” 

He doesn’t reply, at first, taking in a deep breath while he lets your words hang in the air. 

“Okay.” He says quietly. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” You’re relieved at his acquiescence. You don’t think you can take fighting with your boss on top of everything else you have going on. 

“Thank you.” You whisper. 

“Can I ask you to promise me something?” He continues, making you pause, before nodding hesitantly. “Let me look out for you. You don’t have to tell me anything, just- don’t keep going at it alone. You’ll just end up back here again. Or, y’know, half-breathing and unconscious in the back alley of my restaurant. Trust me, I know.” 

You contemplate his words for a bit. You know he’s right, and you know you don’t want to end up in the hospital again. And maybe you owe him this one thing, for being here, for not pushing you like you expected him to, for not firing you after you interrupted his whole day with your bullshit. 

“Okay,” You say. “I promise.” He breathes what you think is a sigh of relief, before leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You stay like that for a little while longer, silent except for the beeping EKG machine and your occasional sniffle. 

“You’re freezing, you know that?” He says suddenly, and it makes you giggle; you haven’t held anyone close in a while, not long enough for them to notice you’re always cold to the touch. You know he’s smiling too, feeling his lips against your hair. 

“Lookin’ out for me might mean letting me borrow this jacket every once in a while.” 

“I’m okay with that.”

[dopelovered]

cw daddy kink 😝😝

“you gonna keep fuckin’ me? mhm? gonna keep lettin’ daddy have it?” richie’s deep voice penetrates the brain fog his dick has induced upon you. on top of him on the couch is how you ride him, face tucked into his neck with his big hands draped over your waist. “keep fuckin’ me, just like that. lemme feel it, baby. make me feel it.” you keen, whining hoarsely at his words and they work, have you bouncing your ass on his lap smoother and rougher, working up and down his cock, which has him chuckling incredulously and throwing his head back onto the sofa.

[alexa-fika]

Aight here me out

Buggy has a child but instead their like moody, grumpy and stuff (like Octavia and loona from helluva boss) but they love buggy and would do ANYTHING for him

Happy go lucky dad 🤝 looks like it would kill you would kill you child

Substitute Assistant ( Cross guild x f!child!reader)

A/N not gonna lie I totally forgot who loons was, it’s been a hot minute since I watched helluva, since we are talking about helluva boss here, specifically loona, do expect a few swear words here and there. This one is kinda a flop but hopefully it lives to your standards Cosmo, I am surprised it wasn’t a Whitebeard request 😂,

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Here you go, asshole,” Dokucha growled, throwing a stack of paper on Crocodile’s desk, a task that they had called her father to do

Crocodile lifts his gaze from his work to the child, taking another look at the stack that now lay on their desk

“Where is the clown?”

“Why the hell do you care?! You have your stupid reports, now leave my dad alone asshole!”

“Should a child your age be using such words?” The voice of the swordsman drawls from the sofa next to them

“Shouldn’t grown men be over bullying others like little children?” She snapped back

At that Crocodile let out a low chuckle that slowly grew into a full-out laugh

“Well, Well seems the brat has more guts than that useless clown,” he grinned

“Don’t call him that!”

“Would you prefer us we call him a coward instead?” Mihawk questioned, taking a sip from the wine in his hand as he continued observing the child’s rage bubble more and more

“Shut up! You assholes know nothing of Dad! He has done many things and gathered people of all kinds with his charisma alone; unlike you, he doesn’t have to pay off or bully people into being his followers!”

Crocodile lets out a dangerous smile at her words

“Funny seeing how it was your father who borrowed money from me, money that he lost and got him where he is now, so by all means, go ahead and tell me more about paying people off.”

“Just leave him alone; you got the business you wanted. Now leave him the hell alone.”

“No can do, little jester, see those people that your father won with his ‘charisma’ have named him the president of the guild; he’s not going anywhere,” Mihawk spoke

“Whether you like it or not, it was Buggy’s decisions that brought him here; he has no one to blame but himself,” he finished, swirling his cup around and downing the liquid inside

She growled, turning around and leaving the room only to be stopped by Crocodile’s voice

“Be a good child and bring me a light, will you?”

“Why the fuck would I do anything for the likes of you.”

“Because if you don’t, then I have no trouble calling your father in instead. While we’re at it, I might have a friendly chat with him about his brat’s behavior.”

She grits her teeth at his response, glaring at him as he chuckles in response

“When you return, I have a few other jobs for you to do, so don’t be long now.”

“Fine,” she snarls, stomping her way out of the office

-

“Dokucha, where did you run off to? I missed you, my little star!” Buggy cheered as the small girl entered the room

“I was busy,” she mumbled

“How was your day today, Dad?” She questioned

“It’s so much better now that my favorite act is here!” Launching himself toward her, babbling about the different things they could do on their next performance

She chuckled as he draped himself over her, hugging him and nuzzling into him

“Hey, Dad?”

“And then Richie would app-hah? Yeah? “He asked, pausing his rambling

“I love you.”

He looks at her for a few seconds before he begins coming apart in surprise, fumbling to put his body together

“Little Star! You are just the cutest,” he cried, hugging her tight

“Okay, don’t go too far, old man,” she grumbled, trying to get away from the suffocating embrace

“Of course, anything for my little star!”

Again this was kinda weak but I hope you like it, obviously Dokucha is more mellowed out compared to Loona, and she doesn’t have that tsundere side with Buggy , hope you find the dynamic interesting

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[leighbaylee]

— BEN’S BUNKER

written by mina leigh 𝜗᭪ , losers club 𝔁 f! reader | wc 2300

summary. spending time the your bestest friends in the world, in ben’s surprise hideout for the losers club. a stronger bond flourishing inside!

labels. feminine reader, happy go lucky girl, shy cute girly girl reader, no definite description of reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is closer to richie toizer & eddie kaspbrak.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. hey everyone! i was rewatching it 2019 and me being the self indulgent person i am, i started fantasizing about us (readers) being with the losers! lots of love.

summer days in derry had a special kind of magic, one that was even stronger when you spent them with the losers club. today, ben had promised a surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see what he had in store. the air was thick with excitement as you all made your way through the woods, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

❝ are we there yet? ❞ richie’s voice rang out, filled with mock impatience. you were walking beside him, as usual, and his playful energy was contagious. you couldn’t help but smile.

❝ yeah, ben, how much further? ❞ eddie added, swatting away a mosquito with a grimace. you could tell eddie was getting antsy, but his curiosity kept him moving forward. you gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his nerves. richie noticed and nudged you with his elbow, his grin wide.

❝ you know, eds, (y/n) here could probably carry you if you get too tired, ❞ richie teased, earning a light smack on the arm from eddie.

❝ shut up, richie, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to hide a smile. you laughed softly, loving the way they always managed to make you feel at ease, even when they were bickering.

finally, ben stopped in front of a large thicket, and your curiosity peaked. he pushed aside some branches, revealing a hidden entrance. ❝ here it is, ❞ your eyes widened as you stepped through the opening. inside was a large, cozy space, bigger than you’d expected. there were shelves full of books, soft blankets, and a huge hammock strung up in one corner, large enough for several people. the place felt like a secret clubhouse, one that was just for you and your friends.

❝ ben, this is amazing! ❞ you exclaimed, your voice filled with awe. you turned to look at him, and he blushed slightly, clearly pleased with your reaction.

❝ yeah, ben, this is awesome, ❞ mike added, already exploring the different corners of the hideout. ❝ you really outdid yourself. ❞

❝ i thought it would be nice to have a place just for us, ❞ ben said, his voice warm with affection. ❝ a place where we can hang out and just be ourselves. ❞

richie immediately made a beeline for the hammock, his eyes lighting up with excitement. ❝ dibs on the hammock! ❞ he shouted, flopping down onto it with a dramatic sigh of contentment. you laughed and followed him over, sitting down on the edge of the hammock.

❝ you’re such an ass, ❞ eddie grumbled, but he couldn’t resist joining you both. he climbed onto the hammock, settling in beside you with a huff. you found yourself sandwiched between richie and eddie, feeling the gentle sway of the hammock as they playfully jostled each other.

❝ careful, you’re gonna tip us over, ❞ you warned, your voice filled with laughter. richie just grinned at you, his arm draping casually around your shoulders.

❝ don’t worry, (y/n), i’ve got you, ❞ he said, his tone teasing but affectionate. you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. on your other side, eddie was muttering under his breath about how richie was being annoying, but you could tell he was just as happy to be there.

as you lay there, the three of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. richie and eddie kept up their usual banter, tossing playful insults back and forth while you relaxed between them. their voices became a soothing background noise, and you found your eyelids growing heavy as the hammock rocked gently beneath you.

❝ hey, richie, do you ever shut up? ❞ eddie grumbled, though there was no real bite to his words. he was more focused on making sure you were comfortable, adjusting a blanket around you with a careful hand.

❝ only when i’m asleep, eds, ❞ richie shot back, his grin widening as he caught your eye. ❝ and even then, i’m sure i’m the most entertaining sleeper around. ❞

❝ if you say so, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the fondness in his eyes as he looked at you. ❝ (y/n), how do you put up with him? ❞ with an exaggerated sigh.

you just smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship surrounding you like a protective shield. ❝ i guess i’m just lucky, ❞ you replied softly, your voice filled with contentment.

eventually, the steady rhythm of their voices and the gentle sway of the hammock lulled you into a peaceful nap. richie’s arm was still draped over your shoulders, and eddie’s presence beside you was a comforting anchor. as you drifted off to sleep, you felt completely safe, knowing that your best friends were right there with you.

when you woke up, the sun had shifted, casting a warm, golden light through the small windows of the hideout. you blinked sleepily, realizing that richie and eddie had fallen asleep too, their heads resting against yours. the hammock was still gently swaying, and for a moment, you just enjoyed the quiet peace of the moment.

after a while, you carefully extricated yourself from the hammock, trying not to wake richie and eddie. they both stirred slightly but didn’t wake up, so you quietly tiptoed away, leaving them to their nap. as you looked around the hideout, you noticed bill, stan, and mike sitting together on a pile of blankets, engrossed in their books.

❝ h-hey, (y/n), want to j-j-join us? ❞ bill asked, glancing up from his book with a welcoming smile. you nodded, making your way over to them. you sat down beside stan, who gave you a small, shy smile as he handed you one of the books from the shelf.

❝ thank you, stan, ❞ you said softly, returning his smile. he nodded, his eyes already back on his book.

you opened the book and quickly became absorbed in the story, losing yourself in the world of words. the four of you read in companionable silence, the only sounds being the rustle of pages turning and the occasional soft murmur as one of you reacted to something in the story.

after a while, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. looking up, you saw beverly smiling down at you. ❝ hey, (y/n), can i steal you for a bit? ❞ she asked, her voice warm.

❝ okay, ❞ you replied, closing your book and setting it aside. you stood up and followed bev over to where ben was working on some project with a hammer and nails.

❝ we could use some extra hands, ❞ bev said, handing you a hammer. ❝ ben’s been teaching me how to build stuff, and i thought you might want to join in. ❞

you smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for beverly’s thoughtfulness. ❝ i’d love to help, ❞ you said, taking the hammer and kneeling down beside ben.

❝ thanks, (y/n), ❞ ben said, giving you a grateful smile. ❝ we’re just reinforcing some of the shelves and adding a few more. it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it. ❞

❝ definitely, ❞ you agreed, already feeling a sense of accomplishment as you began hammering nails into place. as you worked, bev chatted with you about all sorts of things—clothes, movies, and boys. it was nice to have some girl time, and you found yourself opening up to her in a way you hadn’t before.

❝ you know, (y/n), ❞ bev said, her voice turning a bit more serious, ❝ i’m really glad you’re part of the losers club. you bring something special to the group, and i just want you to know that you’re really important to all of us. ❞

you felt your cheeks flush with warmth at her words, and you looked down at the hammer in your hands, suddenly feeling a bit shy. ❝ thanks, beverly, you said softly. ❝ that means a lot. ❞

she smiled at you, her eyes filled with kindness. ❝ it’s true. don’t ever doubt it, okay? ❞

you nodded, feeling a swell of affection for your friend. as the two of you continued working, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the bond you shared with the losers club. they were more than just friends—they were family, and you knew that no matter what, you’d always have each other’s backs.

after finishing up with the shelves, you and bev stepped back to admire your work. ❝ not bad, ❞ ben said, clearly pleased with the results. ❝ this place is really coming together. ❞

❝ it really is, ❞ you agreed, feeling a sense of pride in what you’d accomplished. ❝ i’m glad i could help. ❞

❝ you did great, ❞ bev said, giving you a friendly nudge. ❝ now, how about we take a break? i think we’ve earned it. ❞

you nodded, feeling a bit tired but happy. as you made your way back to the main area of the hideout, you noticed that richie and eddie had finally woken up and were now bickering playfully as usual.

❝ hey, sleepyheads, ❞ you called out, giggling as you approached them. ❝ have a nice nap? ❞

❝ the best, ❞ richie replied with a wink, stretching his arms above his head. ❝ but we missed you, (y/n). it’s not the same without our favorite girl around. ❞

❝ yeah, we woke up and you were gone, ❞ eddie added, his voice mock-petulant. ❝ don’t do that again. ❞

you laughed, feeling the warmth of their affection wrap around you like a cozy blanket. ❝ don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere. ❞

the rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and moments that you knew you’d treasure forever. by the time the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light over the hideout, you felt completely at peace.

as you all gathered together in the hideout, huddled close on the blankets and bean bags, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. the losers club wasn’t just a group of friends—they were your home, your family, your safe haven in a world that could be so full of darkness.

and as you sat there, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you, you knew that no matter what the future held, you’d always stick by their side as much as they stuck to yours.

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024

[angelcakestarlet]

salvatore pt 2

richie jerimovich x reader

warnings: age gap, cheating (eventually) (guys it's for the plot i swear), drugs mentioned, swearing.

as requested here is part two!! thank u for the support cuties <3

"hands, fuckers! i need hands table 13, someone come on!" richie's voice echos through the bustling kitchen. it was a busy saturday night, the kitchen was in the weeds, and the restaurant was full as shit. the chicago bears were playing the packers tonight which meant men, drunk men, who would camp out the entire game sitting at the bar or at a table ordering one meal for the whole night. while your apron was stained and you hadn't reapplied lipgloss in the last three hours, you took a quick peak in the mirror and concluded you still looked good enough for that 20% tip. your cheeks were flushed from running around the restaurant getting beer refills and pitchers for nearly every damn table. you should've called off, honestly.

"I got hands!" you came up behind richie. he passed you the plates with a rag beneath them, "here wouldn't want you to burn yourself, sweetheart". you smiled at him, something about richie made your stomach drop in a way that made you feel guilty. every time he spoke to you, it churned your stomach. you knew it was wrong, the whole 'older man' ordeal, you knew that you should probably feel disgusted at his little remarks towards you. but if anything, that was the cherry on top. you walk out the kitchen, feeling his eyes burning into your back. tina smacks richie's shoulder, "staring at that girl like you wanna eat her" she scoffs disapprovingly. he smirks, eyes trailing you.

"alright guys i have the italian beef sandwich, fries on the side?" you ask the men in front of you wearing their grey bear jerseys, setting it down on the table. "they got you on the side too?" one of the guys snickers, shoving his elbow into his buddy. you fake a sweet laugh, "depends, there's an upcharge for me", anything for that tip. glancing up at the clock, "two more hours to go," you sigh. and for the next two hours, the game finishes up and people start slowly leaving the restaurant. you get those who linger, collecting their betting pool winnings or reaping their loses at the bar. you start getting ready to cash out, calculating your earnings for the day when richie creeps up behind you. "how'd you do today, doll?" referring to your tips racking up on the screen, "guess" you look over your shoulder at him. his face is glowing with a sheen of sweat, rag draped over his shoulder, chain having fallen beneath his shirt, he looked good. "a girl like you? i'm gonna say you made 200 tonight." "try 350," he peers over your shoulder, he lets out a whistle and you can feel his breath blow past your ear. "they like you out here huh?" you turn around to completely face him, his face merely inches away "why wouldn't they?" he chuckles at your response. "god you've got a mouth on you" you notice his eyes pan over you, his response makes you go red. you can only feign confident for so long, his words strike you somewhere deep inside. he notices your flushed state, smiles, and makes his way back to the kitchen. when the doors close behind him you realize you've been holding your breath.

you make your way to the office to check out with carmen, "how did you do today, y/n?" he's seated in his office chair, legs spread and obviously tired. "really good, i'm really liking it here, chef. thank you for the opportunity to work here" you smile hands behind your back, "that's good to hear, you let me know if anyone gives you any type of trouble alright? including fucking cousin over there." you laugh, "trust me, everyone's been really welcoming". once you're done cashing out, you take your purse and head out. outside you find yourself two lingering drunks from the game, "where are you heading to so fast? hold on," one of the guys approaches you, you roll your eyes and continue making your way down the sidewalk. "hey, i'm fucking talking you, you too good to respond or something" you can smell the alcohol coming from his breath as he comes up to tug on your wrist. "fuck off, don't touch me!" you shrug his wrist off, "is there a fucking problem here or something?" you hear richie's scruff voice behind you. before he gets to say anything else the guy backs away from you, you turn around to see richie lifting his white shirt just above his stomach to reveal his gun. the sight gives you that familiar feeling, you almost feel a shiver down your spine. "cause I don't think we would want any problems, right?" he gets closer to you, putting a finger through your belt loop to secure you. "you're right man, we're good, we're good." the guys shuffle away almost tripping over their feet. richie tugs on your belt loop, turning you to face him, "you okay, sweetheart? what are you doing walking home at this hour, do you want to get fucking taken by some jagoff?" he put his shirt back down, covering his gun. you stay a bit stunned, "let me give you a ride, come on." you grab his wrist lightly, "thank you, richie, fuck. um fuck..." you grip your hair, about to follow him to his car you see headlights behind you. "shit um... thank you for the offer, and for helping richie. i was just already waiting on-" you hesitate catching his eye as he looks off to the car pulling over in the distance. "I was waiting on my boyfriend." you peer behind you to see him behind the wheel, he usually picks you up from work. richie nods, smirking almost "your uh boyfriend shouldn't make his girl wait for him like that, especially at night. have a good night, doll" he rubs his chin, turns and makes his way to his car. you sigh, questioning your own moment of hesitation before saying 'boyfriend'. you stare at the silhouette of his tall stature walk away, envisioning the cold gun that rests between his jeans and his stomach and bite down on your lip.

"how was work, babe?"

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Wake up call // Richie Jerimovich x Fem!Reader

A/N: just a little smutty drabble, thank you @h-c-u for the idea bc this is just soooooo 🫠

Warnings: SMUT, minors dni (18+), p in v, unprotected (dont do it irl), established relationship.

——

4:30 A.M.

You groaned a little against your pillow as Richie’s alarm went off, but he quickly snoozed it so it wouldn’t keep bothering you. You expected his body to peel away from yours so he could start getting ready for the day, but instead, he pressed closer to you.

He kissed your shoulder, making his way slowly towards your neck. You hummed, further waking up at his attention. You could feel his need pressing firmly against your ass, and a little smile pulled at the corners of your lips.

“Richie…” you warned, knowing he couldn’t afford to be late to work. Still, you shifted your hips back towards him, which made him grunt.

“We have time, it’s okay, you don’t have to do anything,” he murmured against your neck, his hand slipping over your abdomen and slowly pulling at the hem of your t-shirt. “I’ll take care of you, I just want to feel you.”

You nodded, shifting over to face him with a whispered “Kiss me.”

He immediately obliged, kissing you deeply as you draped your leg over his waist. He managed to pull your shirt off of you, his hands roaming all over to feel the soft warmth of your skin.

Without breaking the kiss, you helped him pull down his briefs as you shimmied out of your underwear. You took him in your hand, stroking him slowly, fingers brushing the sensitive head.

“Fuck,” he sighed, bucking a little against your hand. “Fuck me…”

You grinned mischievously. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

You pulled him on top of you and he wasted no time, settling between your thighs and slowly sinking into you. He groaned as he bottomed out, bending forward to give you another kiss before adjusting himself.

You held onto his arms as he began to move, slowly at first, letting you get used to the stretch. Then his thrusts became faster, more desperate, and his body covered yours. Your hands moved from his arms to his back, nails grazing his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, baby don’t stop please,” you panted.

He wouldn’t have been able to, anyway, given that your thighs around his waist had him in a vice grip.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned close to your ear. “So good.”

By all the needy sounds he was making, you could tell he was already close. You were right there with him, bodies in sync. Then his hips stuttered as he felt you clench around him, and with a long moan, he tumbled over the edge as well.

Warmth flooded you as he thrusted hard a few more times, making sure to leave every drop of his release inside of you. He pulled back to gaze at you, the two of you smiling at each other, sated and half-amused.

“How come we don’t start every morning like that?” You teased as he pulled out, intent on getting something to help clean you up.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. “You make me never want to leave the house again.”

——

[pointycorgiears]

@wyvernslovecake Your post of Crocodile covering the boys with his coat got me thinking now.

What if Crocodile's coat gradually becomes the Cross Guild Blanket? After Crocodile grows to appreciate/tolerate his new crew and fellow executives, a weird….instinct worms its way into him.

The coat gently covers Mihawk after the swordsman falls asleep on the couch while reading.

It blocks out the sun in Buggy's hand mirror as he fixes his makeup while outside.

Gabriel and Gryphon use it as a nice picnic blanket on the beach, and Talon uses it to store all the cool seashells he finds since it has lots of hidden pockets.

It was something soft for Daz to lay his head on when he and Crocodile were still on their own and had to spend a few nights on the streets.

Alvida likes to use the furred part as a pillow when she has a migraine.

Richie and Mohji like to knead it with their 'paws' which helps keep it fluffy.

Turns out, in Crocodile's mind, the biggest wani in the pond is the protector of the group. And everyone else is just so small around him (except for Richie but he's just a big kitten in Croc's eyes). So sometimes, Crocodile might "forget" his coat on the sofa or in the common room. Especially if it's chilly out. Or if someone was having a rough day. As long as it's still in the same place Crocodile left it when he comes to fetch it again, no one gets reprimanded for using it.

Once in awhile, he might fantasize about draping his coat over that pesky Straw Hat. But he never lets those thoughts linger for very long.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Could I get sum uuuuuuuh bubbglegum with some hints of lemon ice and Neapolitan and bluebell? (Aka Buggy x Reader talking about the rest of the crossguild members but I’ll leave it up to you if they actually include Mihawk and Crocodile as an audience or if Buggy just talks big shit)

Pairing: Cross Guild Buggy x Female Reader (oh and a lil Crocodile and a lil Mihawk hehe)

WC: 2000

Prompt: “You think I don’t care about you? What do you want me to do, push you out there and fuck you in front of them?” 

— — 

*thunk* *plop* 

“Grrrrowwwww…” Richie leaps across the wooden floor to retrieve the red bouncy ball you were casually firing off against the wall of the ship. Richie bats the ball around in his paws a few times before putting it in his mouth and trotting back over to where you were reclining on a velvet sofa. The lion drops the slobbery ball into your hand that was lazily draped over the edge of the couch. 

*thunk* *plop* 

You throw the ball again. Richie repeats his motions. 

*thunk* *plop*

And again. You were bored out of your mind. Your husband had been sitting in the grand meeting room on the other side of the wall for hours now. You knew that with his new alliance with Mihawk and Crocodile he would have less time to dote on you, but you had barely even seen Buggy in days. 

You had tried terrorizing the nearest villages in attempts to keep yourself entertained, but without the warm presence of your captain you still felt unfulfilled. Buggy always made sure he had time to meet your needs, wether that be a hard fucking before he left for his duties or leaving his very own cock detached and in your bed so you could feel him inside you when he wasn’t available. 

But this time, he had left you with nothing. You craved the soft yet playful touch of your older lover. Buggy was a sensitive man and took his time to learn the intricacies of your body and soul after you became intimate partners. You quickly fell in love. You were each other’s perfect compliments. He made you crazy and you brought him back to earth. Sometimes you had to reign him in… but tonight you were letting your crazy slip through. You missed him so much, you missed pleasing him and being his good little girl…

*WOOSH* 

The doors to the meeting chamber were thrown open. You sit up on your elbows and look behind you. Mihawk and Crocodile were leaving the room and the doors were closing behind them. Richie scampered off. 

“Oh I see the clown’s plaything is still sniffing around.” Crocodile remarks as he looks at you. “Don’t worry, little girl, your captain’s in his office safe and sound. We though we’d continue our negotiations tomorrow.” 

Your brow furrows and your eyes darken. 

“Plaything? I am his wife.” You stand up and square your shoulders. 

Mihawk chuckles. 

“A clown’s wife? A pirate’s wife? I’m not sure which is more noble.” Mihawk gives you a once over with his eyes before laughing again. 

Fire burned in your chest. 

“Get out.” You spat at them. You turned tail and threw open the doors to the meeting chamber and let them close behind you. You found your blue haired husband pouring over paperwork at his desk. 

“Buggy…” You begin as you stride towards him. 

“Well if it isn’t my shooting star.” Buggy looks up from his work and smiles at you. You can tell he’s recently taken a blow to the eye. His smile has a crack to it… not the 1000 megawatt spotlight you were used to. 

“I can’t stand them.” You huff out. 

“Doll face…” Buggy coos at you as you approach him in his chair. He swivels it to face you. “I know you do. They aren’t my favorite either, but it’s what we gotta do right now.” 

You sigh. You straddle yourself over Buggy and nuzzle your face into his neck, pushing his soft blue hair out of the way with your nose. You kiss the juncture of his neck and shoulder.  He responds by taking the back of your head in a gloved hand and rakes through your scalp gently. He moves his other hand to grip your hip. 

“And what about me, Bugs? Your girl?” You pull back and look into his green eyes. He continues to stroke the back of your head. 

“What about you then, sweet cheeks? You’re my wife, my lady, my center attraction! I do all of this so we can conquer the seas together!” 

“But those fucking assholes…” You retort while turning your head to the side to escape his comment. You clench your fists. Buggy uses both of his hands to grab your face and turns it to look at him in the eye. 

“What do you want me to do, huh? You think I don’t care about you? What do you want me to do, push you out there and fuck you in front of them? You’re my life, y/n, how many times do I have to get that through your head?” Buggy pleads with you, but he was clearly frustrated. 

“I… I just don’t know Bugs… are we cut out for this?” You question him. You see the sparkle in his eyes fade out, replaced with a burning fire. 

“Y/n…” Buggy lets go of your face, his lips quirking up into a smile. “I am an Emperor of the Sea… and you are my wife… an Empress… if you will…” One of Buggy’s hands cups your cheek while the other cups your ass on his lap. “You will spend no time doubting your authority.”

Buggy quickly closes the distance between your lips and engages you in a heated kiss. You groan at the feeling of finally having your lover’s mouth on your skin again. You instinctively grind your hips down onto Buggy’s growing bulge. 

“My little minx, how long have you been waiting for me? It was just one meeting, doll…” Buggy chuckled as he felt your cunt soak his pants, you having chosen to go without panties under your skirt. “You can’t possibly be this needy…” Buggy says as he lifts your hips to slide his fingers through your wetness. You hum out in satisfaction.

“I’m always like this for you, captain.” You buck your hips into his hand to try and gain more contact on your sensitive bits. 

“Since you’re already so wet… bend over that chair for me.” Buggy punctuates his order with a swift smack to your ass cheek. You happily hop up and shed your clothes before you bend yourself over the leather arm chair in the meeting room. You grab a pillow to rest your arms and head on as you wiggle your naked ass towards your captain. 

“Oh doll face, you’re gonna get it so good…” Buggy strides towards you, unbuckles his pants and shoves them down to his knees. You feel his warm presence behind you and gasp at the sensation of his thick uncut tip pushing through your pussy folds. It comes up to tap at your clit a few times and you whine. Buggy giggles menacingly before slamming his cock into your dripping hole from behind in a single, unforgiving thrust. 

“Ah!” You shriek out. 

Buggy hammers into you at a wild pace, not giving you a moment to adjust. Your legs completely give out and your whole body weight falls forward. You kick your heels up as Buggy manhandles your smaller frame. You couldn’t control your body anymore as you fist the decorative pillows on the chair you were currently bent over. You moaned and squealed as your powerful husband grabbed onto your colorful pigtails and pulled on them, to guide you back onto his cock. 

*WOOSH*

“Clown, we need you to sign a few more papers before we leave.” The doors to the grand meeting hall swing open and Mihawk and Crocodile stride back in. Immediately the duo pauses and looks at your sweaty, fucked-out body poised over the armchair. Crocodile and Mihawk look at each other and then again at you. 

“Gentlemen if you haven’t noticed, my wife needed some extra attention today. My apologies, but she needs some tending to.” Buggy slows his thrusts, but not completely stopping them, making you whine out in need. After being given no response, Buggy resumes his relentless pace inside of you, completely ignoring the two men who had just entered the office. 

Crocodile chortles. He comes around to face you. He raises his hook and brushes your sweaty bangs out of your face. The cool metal provides you a tingling sensation. 

“So you really are crazy for the clown, aren’t you?” Crocodile laughs and watches you try to grind yourself back onto your lover in an attempt to feel more of him. 

In your dick-drunk state you nod your head rapidly, throwing your ass back.  "Yes! Yes I love him! Fuck, so good!" You moan out.

“Crocodile…” You vaguely hear Mihawks velvet voice ring through one of your ears. “I’d be willing to leave our negotiations the way they stand if our colleague can prove himself worthy.” You could hear the mischief in his voice. 

“So you’d like to see the little circus girl cum? I think that might be fun to see… so, sure, why not?” Crocodile grins. Crocodile lifts your head with his hook to look at him. Buggy was still thrusting in and out of your sopping hole from behind. You moan as you feel Buggy graze your sweet spot. “Oh he makes you feel good, huh, little thing?” Crocodile smirks down at you. 

You moan in response. 

“Yes! Yes! Fuck my captain makes me feel so good!” You grin lazily and push your hips back even harder against Buggy’s . “Oh!” You gasp. 

“Mihawk, come look. I think she’s really about to cum, can you believe it?” Crocodiile beckons his cohort over. 

“Of course she is, she’s my baby! Show the boys what you can do!” Buggy smiles wildly and detaches one of his hands to rub at your clit, egging on your release. He presses his other hand down on your stomach. “There it is! Come on baby!” Buggy gives one last thrust inside of you before finishing which triggers your orgasm. You scream as you spray out your pleasure juices all over the office. 

Buggy was allowing the final spurts of his climax to flow into your walls as he pulled out roughly. 

“Now since you have your proof, I’ll be seeing you next week. The deal is settled.” Buggy went back into business mode as he tucked himself back into his pants. He scooped up your nude, lifeless form and seated you on his lap at his desk. “My wife needs some rest, so if you’ll excuse us.” Buggy gestures for the *debatably* more powerful men to leave the room. 

Crocodile and Mihawk look at each other before they silently exit the office, Buggy, hopeful he was done with them for a few days. You stayed in Buggy’s arms for at least 30 minutes as he hummed you silly circus tunes. 

“That’ll buy us a week’s peace. Let’s head to bed, my sweet doll.” Buggy picked you up to carry you back to his captain’s quarters. You nodded your head and let the warm feeling of your husbands arms overtake you. 

xx

Mo

[richielipschitzaot]

TW THIS WHOLE ROLE PLAY WILL BE TO DO WITH ATTEMPTED SUCIDE

PLEASE STAY SAFE!!!!

[Aislinn knocks on the door, waiting for it to open] Hey, Richie? It’s Aislinn. Can I come inside??

Oh um.. I guess.

[He opens the door for her, in comfortble clothing, with a blanket draped over him.]

Come in.. just uh, Paul’s home.. so. Just a warning.

[aestheticaltcow]

Drunken Escapades Brought Us Here

The long-awaited part 2 to Drunken Escapades.

After finding out about what happened with Mikey, Carmy had to claim what was his.

Part 1

The Bear Masterlist

Carmy was upset about what had been revealed at Syd’s the other night. He didn’t say anything that would insinuate that he was upset about Mikey feeling you up nine years ago but was withdrawn. 

“Hey baby, can you come by the restaurant this afternoon to help with some paperwork?” Carmy inquired that morning. He was in the middle of changing his clothes, and you could barely hear what he’d been saying as you stared at his shirtless torso, which was decorated with his simple black and grey tattoos. “Thanks.” he grinned. You swallowed softly, silently wishing he’d push you against the wall and attack your pussy with his fingers as he’d done before Syd’s get-together. 

“You okay, baby?” Carmy chuckled, his words bringing you out of your daydream. “Yeah… my mind was just elsewhere. I’ll be by at like 3,” you answered. Carmy nodded and quickly closed the distance between the two of you. His palms leaned against your shared bed as he kissed your lips delicately. It was short and sweet, leaving you longing for more.

Carmy had been having a pretty average day. It wasn’t particularly busy, and everything seemed to be going smoothly enough- until Chuckie and Chi-Chi showed up to help Ebraham with the sandwich window. Richie couldn’t keep his mouth shut about you being ‘puke-girl,’ Carmy tried to ignore the snickers and loud laughter, “It’s like why Carmy got Mikey’s hand-me-downs.” “That’s fucked, asshole,” “Mikey didn’t even get laid that night,” “If she didn’t puke on him- he woulda. Guy was a fuckin’ pimp.” Carmy rolled his eyes as he overheard the conversation. He opted to make his presence known and fully walk into the kitchen. Chuckie stopped talking and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Chi-Chi looked everywhere except at Carmy. Richie cleared his throat and exited the kitchen to return to the front of house. 

The tension in the kitchen was thick enough to cut with a cleaver. You noted it as you slipped your headphones off your head and around your neck. Syd noticed your presence and gave you a small smile before nudging her head toward the closed office door. You looked around the kitchen, noticing how Chuckie and Chi-Chi went out of their way not to look at you. “Fuckin’ Richie,” you muttered under your breath as you went to the office. 

You dropped your tote bag on the floor by the door as you walked into the office, “Hi honey.” you greeted Carmy cheerfully, hoping the tension from the kitchen had stayed in there and miraculously dodged your boyfriend entirely. Your hope was immediately squashed when Carmy looked up at you briefly- no smile, no greeting, no thank you. With another eye roll, you closed the short distance between where you stood and where he sat. You stood behind Carmy and glanced at the computer monitor before resting your chin on the top of his head and letting your arms drape over his shoulders, hands settling on his chest. “Dam. I don’t even get a ‘hello’?” you scoffed. Carmy shifted in his chair, making you raise your chin off of his head to allow him to put his head back to look at you from the most unflattering angle humanly possible. “Sorry, baby… stressful day…” he excused as he pecked your chin. 

“I need to finish some prep—are you good by yourself, baby?” Carmy asked as you situated yourself at the desk. You nodded swiftly and turned your attention to the open window on the monitor before you. “This shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours…” you trailed off as Carmy noted your mild annoyance. He sighed to himself before exiting the office and slipping his apron back on over his head. He tightened the waist ties around himself and heard Syd call for him.

“Yo. Are you good?” Carmy asked as he quickly walked toward Syd’s prep station. “Coffee run. You or Y/N want anything?” she asked as she removed her apron. Carmy shook his head. “Ight. I’ll be back before the staff meeting.” Syd nodded as she swiftly walked back to the lockers to grab her jacket and bag. Carmy paused and looked around the kitchen, noticing the lack of employees, “Where’d everyone go?” he questioned Syd as she adjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder. She shrugged, “Break time.” she pointed over to the clock. Carmy noted the time as Syd exited the kitchen. He had at least 45 minutes before anyone came back for dinner service.

You hadn’t been working long when Carmy returned to the office. You’d shed your jacket and pulled your hair up, clipping it into a messy bun at the back of your head. Carmy grunted at the sight before him; your exposed shoulders and collarbone tantalized him. You didn’t notice him until your chair was yanked to face him. You were startled by his sudden presence. “The hell-” your words were cut off as Carmy’s lips crashed down on yours. The kiss was surprising and fueled by a hunger you didn’t expect. As Carmy’s tongue invaded your mouth, you felt his hands firmly grip your waist before pulling you out of your chair. You stumbled to your feet and fell against Carmy’s chest. He stepped backward, moving toward the tan loveseat against the wall. Carmy sat down, breaking away from the passionate lip lock. You whined as you felt his lips leave yours. Carmy looked at you hungrily, “Be my good girl, baby.”

You bit your lip and slowly nodded as Carmy’s knees spread, creating a space for you to sink into. Your hands moved to the fabric covering Carmy’s crotch. A soft sigh escaped his lips as you ran your fingers down one of his thighs. The sound made your core squeeze around nothing. Feeling empty and immensely horny, you moved your hands to the button of Carmy’s jeans. Your fingers were nimble with undoing the button and quickly pulling his zipper down. Carmy followed your league and lifted his hips to push his jeans and boxers down just enough to release his growing length. You felt your mouth salivate at the sight as your hand went to the base of his cock. You looked up at Carmy through your eyelashes longingly. Carmy looked down at you with hazy, lust-filled eyes, “You know what to do, baby.” he swallowed as you brought his tip to your lips. You giggled before gently spitting. You watched as your saliva rolled down the length of his cock to your fingers. 

As you took the head of Carmy’s cock into your mouth, you slowly began sucking and tonguing the sensitive skin. You took more of him in your mouth, causing a harsh whimper to escape Carmy’s mouth. Your mouth and hand worked in tantum to get him off. The office quickly filled with Carmy’s soft, unapologetic moan. His hands moved to the back of your head. He took the clip out of your hair and grasped your hair in a makeshift bun before forcing your head down, making you gag as his cock pushed deeper into your mouth and down your throat. “Fuck, baby. You’re takin’ me so well.” he managed to get out. Carmy pulled your mouth completely off of his cock. You panted as Carmy smirked down at you. “Who does your mouth belong to, baby?” he goaded as he pulled your head farther back. You licked your lips before responding with a whimper, “You, Daddy.” 

Your response went straight to Carmy’s cock; he ached to cum in your mouth, knowing he didn’t have time to cum in your tight warm cunt. He eased his grip on your hair, and you moved to take him into your mouth again. Your head bobbed up and down the tip of his cock, hitting the back of your throat with each downward stroke. With one of your hands occupied holding the base of his cock, the other moved to fumble with his balls, low muffled moans filled the room as Carmy’s orgasm approached. “Fuck.” Carmy mumbled as his grip on your hair tightened. His hips bucked slightly as his orgasm approached. You groaned as the ache between your legs grew. You wanted nothing more than for Carmy to bend you over his desk and take what belonged to him- but having him cum in your mouth was enough for now. 

Globs of semen erupted down your throat as Carmy held your head still, “Oh, fuck.” Carmy grunted as his head fell back against the back of the loveseat. As the hot, salty liquid hits your taste buds, you close your eyes. As you swallowed, Carmy’s grip on your hair loosened, and you pulled your mouth away from his deflating cock. With one last soft kiss over the slit of his tip, Carmy sighed in relief. You pushed yourself up from your knees and settled on the loveseat beside Carmy. He lazily lifted his hips and pulled his boxers and pants up in one swift movement. 

“What was that about?” you quizzed as you let your hand fall to Carmy’s chest before scooting yourself closer to him. Carmy paused; he snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you onto his lap before softly kissing your temple. “Richie couldn’t keep his fuckin’ mouth shut. Chi-Chi and Chucky were bein’ assholes…” 

You frowned and moved a hand to Carmy’s cheek before gently nudging his face in your direction to look into his eyes lovingly, “Are you jealous about what happened with Mikey? I didn’t even have sex with him, Carm.”

Carmy groaned, “I know… I just don’t like knowing that other guys- ya know…” 

You nodded understandingly, “I get it, love.” 

Carmy looked at you and pouted slightly. You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t like the idea of you being with other girls. You’re all mine, and no one gets to take you from me.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, Carmen. We’ve been together for what five years?” Carmy nodded, and you kissed his lips softly, “You’re the only guy I want.” 

[rorywritesjunk]

There are roses that come without seeking

It's been a long few days and you just want a nap.

Rating: PG Warning: Body odor. Buggy needs a bath. Word Count: 616 A/N: For a lovely Anon who had an exam the other day. I'm sorry I didn't have this for you as quickly as I would have liked, but I made sure to make it silly and fluffy and fun. <3

Title comes from "Heart Of My Own" by Basia Bulat.

It had been a stressful few days. Between caring for Richie, repairing one of the ripped sails, and fixing meals for the crew as several of them were down for the count with a nasty cold, you were pretty damn exhausted by the time the captain came around and told you to go to bed.

You didn't argue with him. 

Mostly because going to bed meant the possibility of the captain joining you since the two of you shared one.

Since you worked so hard you decided a little pampering needed to happen before climbing into the cozy bed. You used one of Buggy’s fancy face wipes to clean your face before brushing your hair out. There was this lavender scented body powder that had you feeling a little cleaner and relaxed once you patted it onto your body. Next the peppermint lip balm for a little kick. Was it better than a hot bath and cup of tea? No, but it would do.

Once you were in your comfy clothes you threw the blankets back and crawled under them, letting out a long, content sigh as you settled in the middle of the bed. You didn't intend to fall asleep, you really just wanted to relax for a bit until Buggy needed you again, but your eyes felt heavy and you relaxed into the mattress and everything seemed just right.

~

You woke up to movement in the bed and an arm draping over your side. You felt yourself being pulled against something, warmth spreading to your back from the body that joined you. Buggy sighed loudly as he tightened his hold on you and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. 

“Long day, Captain?” You mumbled as you rolled over to face him, nestling up against him as you kept your eyes closed. 

“You're supposed to be asleep.” He shot back wearily as his lips found your forehead and he pulled the blankets closer. “Go back to sleep.”

You hummed in response, nuzzling your face into his chest as you inhaled deeply, only to snort and cough before pulling back. “Buggy! Why didn't you clean up or change your clothes?!”

“Oh come on, Baby Star, it's not that bad!” He complained as he pulled you back to him. “I don't have time for that nonsense!”

“Buggy, you smell.” You told him as you tried to keep your face away from his body. Normally it didn't bother you, getting truly clean was a luxury that was few and far between on the ship, but he smelled like he rolled around in Richie’s bedding. “Oh God, you stink!”

“Baby, come on-”

“Oh wow, you need to bathe!” You pretended to choke and hack from the smell, flopping lifelessly to the bed as you clutched your throat and mimicked dying. The clown looked unamused by your antics as he propped himself on his elbow to watch your theatrics. 

“Seriously?”

“At least wipe your pits.” You said as you tried to push him down, the smell from that area of his body wafting towards you as he scratched his head. “If you do just that I will stop complaining.”

Buggy thought about it. “What do I get out of it?”

“What do you get - you're trying to barter with me?” You sighed and flopped back on your bed. “Fine, fine. I'll give you two kisses. One for each spot.” You counted off on two fingers before glancing over at him with a grin. “The more parts you wash the more kisses you get.”

He considered it, looking away as he muttered to himself before lifting his arm to sniff. He winced at the smell and glanced back at you.

“Deal.”

[hardbeingcasual]

“So put down the knife, we’re not swapping blood.”

WE’RE IN LOVE! / ETHAN LANDRY

♪ WE’RE IN LOVE, BOYGENIUS / MASTERLIST / SCREAM MASTERLIST

pairings. ethan landry x gn reader

warnings. blood, heartbreak, betrayal, normal things for scream, killing, angst, not proofread,

summary. you find out something you would of never expected about Ethan.

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You pressed yourself up against the wall, sweat dripping down your forehead like it was a storm, your hand clutching your side as it bled. A few moments ago you found out Ethan, your Ethan, was apart of the killings that took place in New York. One of those who stalked upon people and used them as prey.

You couldn’t believe it, you couldn’t believe him.

Why did he comfort you all year about last year in Woodsboro with Amber and Richie, when he was just going to make it worse?

It was one big sick game.

You noticed a shard of glass next to you and quickly grabbing it, incase someone were to sneak up on you. Your breaths came out shakily as you scurried away from where you were, trying to run from any of the killers.

But you didn’t go unoticed by Ethan, he ran after you, his arms draping around your waist as he grabbed you and pinned you against the floor, his knife going to your throat, you try to fight him but his hold against you was strong.

There was a churning in your stomach, this was it, today you were dying. Woodsboro was just the start, New York was the end.

There was definitely blood drawing from his grip, the only thing you can hear was your heartbeat in your ears.

You look into his eyes, his gaze so dangerous, it almost made you sick.

After moments, he decides to let you go. Looking like he was feeling guilty. You stand up, share one last glance with him and then you’re off.

It wasn’t long until Quinn found you again, after having stabbed you before the reveal, she looked like she wanted to do it more, repeatedly, until your heart slowed, and stopped forever.

“My brother may be too much of a pussy to kill you, but I’m not.” She ran towards you her knife raised in the air, you backed up but it was a dead end, you were done for. Until you noticed a brick on the floor. Another brick to be thrown in her face again, you almost smirked at that.

You quickly picked it up and hit her repeatedly with it. The blood splattering allover your face in the process. Disgusting.

You were struggling to breath as you sat next to Quinn, your hand once again on the wound on your stomach. The theatre was quiet now, it had to be over. There was no more yelling.

You looked across the room, noticing Ethan’s limp body. A tear rolled down your cheek at it, blending with Quinn’s blood. You should not feel sad about him, but you do. You wished things were different.

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notes. MY REQUESTS R OPEN PLS REQUEST I BEGGG…. i hate this i feel like i haven’t wrote in forever though.