#like how i make Super Long Sticks that are Too Fucking Long to be Reasonable
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Every time I feel smart, I go into a totk shrine and every time I feel dumb, I go into a totk shrine
#tears of the kingdom#loz totk#video games#gaming#i'm grinding out shrines rn bruh#next tag is minor spoilers#i love how you can just nope out of the yiga boss fight like. oops sorry i forgor about this super important quest sozz#but like. good luck with coping about the fact i am the Chosen One ig... 👍#but like. i love and hate how they drop you into shrines with NO explanation#and i thought botw was bad at that 😭#i'm not complaining because so far they aren't horrifically egregious#but they really do just let you do whatever#i feel like if i were a game dev making a game this huge i'd love seeing how fans use the game to get weird results#like how i make Super Long Sticks that are Too Fucking Long to be Reasonable#or just... people being creative about how they solve puzzles. like that shit is FASCINATING
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Quick! Info dump about your favorite blorbo!
König headcanons
NSFW content below the cut, 18 + only (These apply to yandere König as well, the toxic stuff is marked with a red flag 🚩)
Does like 50 crunches and 50 pushups first thing in the morning when he wakes up, as he has done since he was a teenager.
Will fix everything from cars to furniture. If the door is creaking he will oil the hinges immediately. Actually, he will treat every single thing in life as a problem... A problem he will fix.
He's great at math and physics and has vast amounts of knowledge about mechanics, thermodynamics, even things like quantum theory and other complex astronomy stuff.
He's completely clueless when it comes to following trends and memes. You have to explain every other tiktok to him. He rarely uses emojis but when he does, it's awkward and slightly intimidating because König doesn't know the hidden meanings behind them. If you send him an eggplant or peach emoji he asks if you need veggies from the store.
Loves your cooking (even if it's just microwaved mac and cheese). If you start to feed this man, you'll never get rid of him.
This is your classic mama’s boy who never had to learn how to cook and then went to the army and got used to the facility taking care of him so… yeah. Doesn't know how to cook but will try to help in any way he can! König is very excited to see you’re making food and wanders into the kitchen like “What are we making today?” You can try and give him a chopping board, an onion and a knife, but this poor man doesn't even peel the onion unless you tell him he has to remove the outer layer first...
Eats like a horse. Is secretly afraid that you run out of food. Goes to the fridge and if it's half full, he will not take the snack he was supposed to have, only comments: "The fridge looks empty." (It's not a passive aggressive statement, he's just worried.)
Also: everytime there's a crisis somewhere – he follows the news neurotically – König starts to prep. There's a month's worth of food stashed in one of the cupboards at all times. He also preps fuel, propane, medicine and the like.
Ruins all the fun when you're playing board games because he fusses about the rules so much. König holds the rulebook in his hand through the whole game and double-checks every single thing.
He's very clumsy, sometimes hits his head on the door frame when he's in a hurry or visiting a new place. He can't stay still either, always shakes his leg when he’s sitting. König needs a lot of exercise when he's not deployed to get all that energy and frustration out.
This has been discussed earlier but yeah, König even drops his mags sometimes in the field because he's too excited. He's a very capable martial artist though. Has done Savate, Escrima and Pekiti-Tirsia Kali and is very agile and precise with the double kali sticks he carries to field sometimes. Suddenly his clumsiness disappears when he has to knife someone, kick someone in the head or beat them to death with those sticks.
This is the reason König fucked up his sniper dreams too: having to control his breath, lie still for long amounts of time, then take aim and shoot a rifle vs. aiming during an adrenaline high, giving a tight spurt or two with his SMG… The latter just comes naturally to him! If you ask him how he managed to take down a human trafficking cell all alone König will say he simply "got carried away."
König goes to the gym a lot. Gets back super pumped and with an urgent need to make love. But not before he's had a cold shower! It's almost like a ritual: he has to torture himself with weights and cold water first before he can have his prize (= access to a woman)
Wakes you up in the middle of the night because he started to worry about petty, stupid things and then got a lil horny. Humps your leg or your back very, very slowly while grunting in your ear: "Hey... Hey. Are you sleeping…?" (Like. Yes, König, I was but I'm not anymore, thanks for asking)
Asks what kind of fantasies you have all of a sudden while you two are cuddling. Asks very detailed questions about them too. If you ask him what kind of fantasies he has in return, König will tense up and then say he doesn't really know, perhaps something like… a blowjob in the forest… And somehow you just know that his real fantasies are so perverse you don't even want to know more about them.
If you "nag" or yell at him, he might get a boner.
If you notice and get offended, ask: "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?!' König will freeze and look at you with a bewildered, obsessed stare and go: "Ja..?" while the boner situation in his pants gets visibly worse.
🚩 Would never go to bed before you've settled your argument. The problem is that it's very difficult for König to apologize because he always thinks he's in the right and that you simply need some time to come to that conclusion too. If you give him the silent treatment he will eventually come to you, gets all touchy and asks surprisingly demurely: "Are you still angry with me?"
🚩 The minute you forgive him or decide it was a stupid argument anyways, the demure puppy act disappears. König thinks he won and that it's time for some makeup sex ❤️
Has like the longest cock known to man. He has actual trouble finding comfortable underwear to fit that beast into. It's beautiful but intimidating, uncut, smooth and sleek. Not too thick but certainly not thin either. He likes to keep himself tidy down there too so the lack of hair makes this murder weapon look even bigger.
You two occasionally break furniture while having sex. It's mainly his fault (he gets carried away). He's very upset about it afterwards though, looks at the destruction he caused, muttering "Scheisse…" while rubbing the back of his neck. Then he tries to fix it while you're still there with your legs shaking and in need of aftercare.
If you remind him that he has other duties first, perhaps whimper his name in frustration, König will apologize and carry you to bed. He gives you that precious aftercare with unwavering passion and attention every time you ask for it ❤️ He's just a little clueless sometimes (König is also neuroatypical, either has AD/HD or falls somewhere in the autism spectrum)
🚩 Hates condoms with an intense passion. You're practically forced to take birth control pills or whatever so that he can cum inside you. This man's whining will ultimately gain a level that's absolutely ridiculous if you don't.
The first time you do it without the rubber, he sounds like he's about to cry. He tells you a hundred times how good it feels, and won't pull out until he grows soft and is kind of forced to do so. For a man who's never even heard of a breeding kink, he seems vehement about keeping his load inside you.
🚩Grunts and whispers loving but obsessive things in your ear while making love to you. You're mine, Say it, Promise that you're mine, I don't want to live without you, Why do you feel so good? at first… but as he approaches his peak, König switches to German. You have no clue what he’s saying, but from the way he spits those sentences through gritted teeth you get the feeling that it must be something desperate and that perhaps it's a blessing you don't understand his native tongue...
🚩🚩If you leave your phone on the table he tries to stalk it and check the notifications. He's so jealous it's unreal, if he sees you receive a message from some other guy König will start a circus. He needs to know all about your connection with this man. After that, he wants you to go through your contacts and show him how many guys there are and tell him what your affiliations are with them. If you're on social media König wants to go through your friends/those you follow. You have to give an account who they are and why you follow them.
🚩🚩🚩 You get a feeling he's forming a list of people he has to kill if you don't tell him they're just a cousin or something 💀
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Dunno if u have seen it but I’d really love ur version of the NSFW alphabet for Spencer Reid
(Not sure if that really counts as a Drabble or a super long headcanon. I tried to go thru ur blog and I didn’t see where u had done 1 before!!)
ON IT!!!
doing it with sub!spencer ofc<3
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): super sleepy and cuddly, just wants you to hold him and kiss him and play with his hair. also goes borderline nonverbal, just wants to be in your company.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): his favourite body part on himself is honestly probably his brain ngl BUT otherwise i'd say his hair, he takes good care of his hair and takes the time to make sure it looks nice so i'd say his hair. as for on you probably your hips or eyes, your eyes is the answer he tells people but actually he just loves gripping your hips and pinching the fatty skin there and placing kisses on your hipbones.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): loves cumming in you. so much. but also loves cumming on you, more specifically cumming on your pussy after fucking you, the way it looks running over you just making his head spin.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): pervert. not a creepy pervert but still a pervert. will stick around if he walks in on you changing, stare at your boobs and ass when he thinks you don't see him, shamefully touches your underwear for longer than he should when he's doing laundry, will spend a good while scanning your body while you sleep, especially if you're wearing shorts or a tank top.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): not experienced. has no idea what he's doing. he tries his best and learns fast but he needs a lot of guidance and care but he prefers you taking control anyway.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): cowgirl. nothing beats getting ridden in his mind, the sight of you on top of him, your boobs bouncing with each thrust and the way you gripped his waist.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): i wouldn't say he's serious but he's not humorous either, whenever your touching him he just becomes a moaning mess and can hardly think for himself, just completely lost in the pleasure.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): not shaved bald but definitely trimmed, if not for your benefit then definitely for his own.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): soooo lovey, just holding you and kissing you and snuggling into you and telling you that he loves you and thanking you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): definitely jerks off a lot when you're apart because he just gets really sexually frustrated without you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): mommy kink!!!
L = Location (favorite places to do the do): bed first, always, it's just more private and intimate but he also likes it on the couch but that's more of a spur of the moment thing.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): anything and everything. you smiled at him? horny. kissed him? extra horny. hugged him? horny. literally anything you do can get him going.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): blindfolds on him for obvious reasons, also domming, he just can't do it.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): giving all the way!!! even if he's not that good at it he puts his heart and soul into it. more often than not he gets carried away and forgets he's trying to get you to cum bcs he just loves to taste you.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): loves it fast but not too rough if that makes sense? like he doesn't wanna hurt afterwards and whenever he's on top he just gets so caught up that he can't help but fuck you desperately.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): likes them a lot and however often you're up for it, especially before work. definitely walks into that building with a real pep in his step after a quickie in the morning.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): definitely game to experiment with a lot of things you wanna try, but nothing too crazy like he wouldn't be into slapping or extreme bondage, but a little tying up he's game for.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): not many. he gets easily overwhelmed and overstimulated bcs he's just so sensitive. can go three rounds at very best.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): doesn't own toys himself but if you do he uses them on you, more specifically if you had a vibrator he'd use it on you when you're tired. also let's you use a vibrator on him, the feeling of it pressed to his tip making him cum embarrassingly fast. not to forget pegging, would let you peg him or use a dildo on him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): not at all, you're more the one to tease him but he doesn't have enough patience or self control to tease you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): very loud and doesn't even realise it, he just gets so lost in his own mind that he can't even hear himself.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): loves being bitten by you, not aggressively enough that it hurts too bad but if he was on top and you bit into his shoulder when you came he'd definitely follow quick after.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): around 7 inches, not too thick but not too thin either, curved upwards slightly, the prettiest pink tip and not overly veiny but definitely a few. also i feel like he has pretty nipples idc.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): very high, needy alllllll the time like could go at it at the drop of a hat it doesn't matter what time of day he could be rock hard in seconds for you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): pretty quickly depending on the time, if it was one of those morning quickies ofc he can't but otherwise he tries to stay awake but never manages to actually stay awake that often.
#📬 maeve's mailbox!#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fandom#dr spencer reid#mgg#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds oneshot#criminal minds drabble#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds x reader#mgg x reader#mgg smut#mgg fanfiction#sub spencer reid#sub!spencer
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could i request a ghost x “strawberry/cutecore/hello kitty” reader?! basically just everything is pink and they are super bubbly :>
pls and ty 🙏🏻
Simon "Ghost" Riley & Cutecore/Hyperfeminine Aesthetic
a/n: I loved this request... but it was my first attempt at the aesthetic/vibe as a whole and I'm not sure if I hit the mark. I used this pic as my inspo. ):(
Summary: What it's like for Ghost to have an "everything in pink, please." gf, and what kind of feelings go along with it.
TW's: suggestive content 18+ ONLY, established relationship, possessiveness?, def not proofread (the usual), fem!reader.
Of all the women that Simon ever entertained the thought of being, one like you didn’t initially even present itself as a remotely interesting option. The idea of someone such much different from himself sounded like nothing less than a good way of fucking up someone else’s -otherwise- normal life by inserting himself into it. You just always seemed so damn happy and excited about even the smallest of things; Practically amplifying the good feelings floating around in the air and blasting them right back at him. Never without something pink on and dressed up like you were minutes away from attending some kind of fairy party literally scared Ghost away from having anything to do with you.
You on the other hand, weren’t exactly sure what it was that made Ghost so averse to speaking to you more than a few words at a time. Yet made it your very private little mission of sorts to snoop and poke around until you found some kind of answer as to why such a massive and expertly lethal man couldn’t bear to stand within arms reach of you. He just intrigued you for some reason or another. Only getting glimpses of the man’s real self in his eyes -the only visible part of him- and having to make your next moves based off of nothing more than gut-feelings and the hope that you were reading his signals correctly.
At first, it crossed your mind that your preferred aesthetic of sorts could be a bit of the problem. For most people it might appear a bit too much, and when looking at Ghost dressed almost head to to in black with a skull painted on his masked face… there was good reason to assume it in the first place. What you didn’t know was that it was so much deeper than your affinity for lace-trimmed socks, Mary Jane’s, pearls, and practically anything hyper-feminine and in a shade of pink. Ghost didn’t believe you were weak or predisposed to acting childish. You held a massively significant job in journalism and worked harder than most people he knew at what you did. You just happened to enjoy everything around you looking like some damn cotton-candy tea party.
What bothered him was your sweet personality and an intrinsic value he held for just how fucking innocent you were towards him and everyone else around you. People could be utterly horrible right to your face, and you’d silently keep the hurt to yourself and never fight back against what they’d done. Revenge wasn’t something you cared for, while it was essential to Ghost’s motivation in his work and private life. For a long time he couldn’t balance his morals of being involved with you at all with the thoughts in the back of his mind about how much he might twist and form you into something unrecognizable. Something a lot less… pink. A person that didn’t enjoy such small little things like how a skirt had small pink flowers embroidered on it, or if the little bows you’d stick in your hair had a lace fringe on the edges.
Oh but how things changed when Ghost finally couldn’t stand looking at you without thinking about how nice it would be to have his arm wrapped around you, pulling you tight up against him to keep everyone from staring. The Lieutenant always had a weak spot for you and your sugar-sweet personality and looks. But goddamn did he start loving the color pink more than a professional murderer should. All the hues and tones of that fucking color began reminding him of you no matter where he was, or what he was doing. For the longest time, he’d been worried that he would be the one that changed you, all the while he was too deep inside his own mind to recognize that you were the one controlling the direction things were headed.
Just looking at you made him shudder with feelings of possessiveness and adoration. Standing there happy as could be with thigh-high white socks and a fluffy pink skirt, all dressed up just to go out to eat at a little late-night pub because he couldn’t stand the idea of having to show his face in the bright daylight. You knew to a certain extent that Ghost appreciated the way you lived your life just a bit more feminine than average… but the depths of his thoughts and ideas about you were surface level to say the least. He just knew what you looked like clinging to his arm walking down the street; His polar opposite and yet so happy to be close to him. A darling smile… pretty and glossed lips… frilly things on almost every piece of clothing you wore and just utterly adorable to him.
Knowing that gave him… fantasies.
Wanting to see all of the things he could buy for you to wear for him. Dress you up almost like his own little doll and get to show you off to anyone who’d look, only to have the pleasure of threatening them to do more than take one good glance. So delectable, squeezable; but for him and him alone. You were the princess Simon didn’t realize he wanted and unlocked this strange and insatiable urge to spoil the fuck out of you with every pretty pink or glittery thing you could wish for, just so he could take you home and watch you try it all on for him while sipping a bourbon on the couch.
Fuck… There wasn’t a better way to spend an evening. Well, almost.
Perfect didn’t count unless he got to see you under him, laying back on pink silk sheets you’d been adamant about buying for his house, watching your eyes roll back with every moment he made. Damn if he couldn’t make it more than fifteen minutes without needing to calm himself down, before needing to put you on your hands and knees so those pretty little fucking faces you made wouldn’t make him finish before he got started. If he was lucky he could leave hot and pink handprints on your ass for making him feel so good. Simon knew you weren’t sheltered. But to him you were still innocent. Kind in so many ways he didn’t comprehend or believe was humanly possible. For fuck’s sake, you allowed him to come into your life.
Him with his scarred hands, bullet holes, shitty disposition. A man who preferred destruction and death for it’s permanence and certainty. Simon, with his need to hide his own face and go by a name that lacked humanity. All of him starkly contrasted you in so many ways it made him spin with confusion and oftentimes guilt. Questioning why he’d been so weak as to touch you in the first place. Allow himself the chance at someone so full of life who could see the world -literally- through rose-colored lenses.
Yet you brought forth happiness and fulfillment that the soldier hadn’t found in his years of searching desperately for a purpose. He found someone he could visually see, and palpably touch who hadn’t been torn down or beaten into submission in one way or another. Sweet and innocent you had found such a simple yet powerful way of living life the way you wanted to. Ghost felt like he could protect you. Not only in the genuine aspect of loving you so much that he got physically ill at the thought of losing you to anything; but also because you were so full of life and love to give to everyone around you. He needed you. Selfishly. Then again, there needed to be more softness and genuine innocence and happiness too. And so long as he was alive and breathing, he’d always make sure you were safe.
Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated <3
#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#cod#cod mwii#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#velvetures writes#velvetures#anon answered#anon <3#anon ask
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"Coffee? This shit's expensive."
You reached for the packet that was sitting on top of the desk, surprised. Coffee was for rich nobles, not for soldiers with meager pay. Levi swatted at your hand.
"Don't touch my shit."
"What?" You took back your hand, pouting at him. "I was just saying."
Levi shot a glare at you, irritated. "Why don't you just shut up and go back to your work? My possessions are none of your business."
You groaned, eyes flicking to the empty papers in front of you that you were supposed to write reports on. "But I've been working for hours. My fingers hurts. Let me take a break."
"Stop being dramatic.
"I'm not being dramatic. You're being dramatic." You mumbled, again reaching for the package. He didn't try to stop you this time. He only glanced, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance, then going back to working. You were stubborn as fuck and he had learnt long ago telling you not to do something only inspired you to do the opposite, specially when you realized it pissed him off.
"Where the heck did you even get this?" You flip the packet, eyes widening at the price. It wasn't just expensive, it was super expensive. Levi sighed.
"Must you be so nosy all the damn time?"
"Yes." You nod, eager to know. You weren't going to let it go until you got answers. You were stubborn that way. And his unwillingness only made you all the more interested.
Or maybe you just loved pissing him off. It was amusing in a way.
Your crude captain barely ever showed emotions, so you'll take what you get. Even if the only emotions he has the capacity to display is annoyance and frustration.
Getting him riled up was perhaps, the highlight of your day. Only source of entertainment ment in the four walls of this boring facility.
What made it all better was, he'd grumble, he'd complain, he'd spew curses under his breath, but he'd still let you stick around. And he'd rather die than admit it, but it made you think that perhaps, he didn't find you as 'unpleasant' as he says he does after all.
"I didn't get it." He responded irritatedly, eyes on the papers.
"Huh?" You tilted your head, not satisfied. "What do you mean? What, this packet just grew legs and started walking and came all the way up over here? Plus, I didn't think you even like coffee. I only ever saw you drink tea–"
"You talk too much."
"Okay but," You ignored his little snide remark. "No, but this is premium quality and you haven't even opened it yet. Why'd you get it of you won't have it?"
"I didn't get it." He repeated. "And I don't like coffee."
"Thought so." You nodded. That's also another reason you were surprised to see the packet. He loathed coffee, you knew. Even though the cheap shit served in the cafeteria was truly repulsive, you would chug it down without hesitation. And the face Levi made every damn time was worth it all. That's how you learnt the bitter captain surprisingly hated the bitter drink.
"So if you're not gonna have it, can I have some? Because I'm falling asleep."
"No. I can't stand the smell of it."
"Of course you don't." You scoffed. "You drink your tea just fine though. In my opinion, that tastes more horrible."
"I didn't bring you here to comment about my drink preferences."
"Volunteering. Because you have shit preferences and someone needs to let you know–"
"Do you ever shut up?"
"No." You grinned. "Where'd you get it captain?"
"If I tell you, will you shut up?" He looked up, exasperated.
You pretended to consider. "Perhaps."
He glared at you.
"Okay I might." You nodded. "No promises, but I might. Go on, tell me."
He stared at you skeptically, weighing his options of either answering your questions so that you'd let it go or smack you in the face with the heavy file. He was seriously considering the latter at this point.
Then he sighed.
"I just know this is gonna make this worse." He muttered. "If you must know, it was a gift."
"A gift?!" Your jaw dropped.
"Captain! Who gifted you something so expensive? Don't tell me you have a secret lo-"
"Get your mind out of the gutter." He snapped, cutting you off before you could say it.
"Okay." You raised your hand in mock surrender. "Okay. No secret lovers got it. Who was it then?"
He pinched his nose bridge closing his eyes. Bracing himself for the shit you were going to give him after what he's going to say next.
"Some random Garrison Regiment Squad leader I think. Captain sova or shiva or something of that sort. Carried some heavy loads for her and then she got all soppy and grateful and wanted to express her thanks, despite my insistence that I despised coffee." He explained, ignoring the change on your expression with every word. Dear walls, he can practically hear the screws turning in your head.
"...no way." You gaped at him.
"How expensive is this shit anyway?" He reached for the packet, curiosity poking him at the genuine disbelief in your face.
"50$?" His eyes widened, brows raising. He had no idea gratitude for helping out was worth that much.
"You're just noticing it now?!" You were absolutely appalled.
"I told you I have no interest towards coffee." He said defensively.
"But– how could you not?"
"Because it's insignificant?"
"It's–" You weren't sure whether you should laugh or cry. "Have you heard of the term, 'curiosity'?"
"I simply don't care. I have way too much in my plate to sit around and observe the price of a coffee package. Have I mentioned that I loathe coffee?"
"Jeez, it was a gift. You could at least pretend to care."
He only raised an eyebrow.
"I mean..you might not have a lot of interest in coffee," You said. "But she sure sounds as if she had much interest in you."
"She? The captain?" Levi furrowed his brows, clueless.
"Yes?!" You were even more confused to see his confused expression. "Who else would I talk about?"
He shook his head. "You're misunderstanding. She was just grateful."
"Grateful because you helped her heave heavy things? So she pays you back with 50$?"
Levi pressed his lips together, considering your words. Now that he thinks about it... no it's just you making the situation more than it is.
" .... How am I to know what she was thinking?" He said finally.
You rolled your eyes. "Well.." You asked after a while. "Did she try to express her gratitude in..any other way?"
"You're not gonna drop this, are you?"
"Are you kidding?"
"Of course you won't, you nosy little shit." He sighed. "She sent me a letter last monday."
You almost fell out of your chair. "You're telling me this now?!" You demanded. "What did she say?" Half of your body was practically on the desk, you were so leaning forward so much in excitement
"You're hopeless." He shook his head at the gleam in your eyes. "Not everything is drama. She only thanked me and asked if she could treat me to dinner some night."
It was how he said that with a straight face that got you. The lack of interest, the blank expressions, it all added up.
You sat back down in silence as you realized that he wasn't really trying to deny anything because he was flustered.
He simply had no fucking idea.
"Captain. Just..how dense are you?" You asked softly, almost in awe. How a man like him could be so clueless you had no idea.
"Watch your mouth, brat."
"No offence meant." You said casually, setting his irritated words aside, too invested to give a fuck. "But did you say yes?"
"To what?"
"The dinner proposal? What else?"
"Of course not." He looked surprised you even considered the idea. "Do you have any idea how busy I am? And it's annoying. She's acting as if I saved her life and now she owes me a life debt."
You internally sent words of sympathy to the unfortunate woman. Girlie couldn't have picked a worse person to flirt with.
"Oh poor her."
"What poor her?"
"Captain. Do you seriously...not realize that she..asked you out..?"
He stared at you for a few seconds, ears growing red. "Bullshit." He muttered.
It took every bit of your effort to hold back the laugher bubbling in you. It was already difficult enough to keep a straight face. He looked so embarrassed it was hilarious.
You wondered how many girls had ever flirted with him like this and he had no fucking idea, probably shook it off thinking they were just being nice. How many hearts has he broken without even realizing it?
"Well, was she pretty at least?"
He shot an incredulous look. "I can't even remember her name, and you think I memorized her face?"
"Huh. Fair enough."
A giggle escaped you despite your hard efforts to hide your amusement. That seemed to have embarrassed him more.
"Don't laugh. There's nothing funny here."
"Oh if only you knew exactly how hilarious it is." You grinned. "I'm like two seconds away from losing it."
"I will hit you if you don't stop laughing."
You pursed your lips, the corner of your mouths still quirking up.
"Captain."
"No." He cut you off. He was tired. He was embarrassed. He was flustered. He had zero desire left to talk with you and he was fully aware nothing that ever comes out of your mouth is pleasant.
But of course you ignored him.
"Have you ever even been on a date?"
He groaned, cursing internally. This is the last thing he wanted to talk about today.
"You have no sense of privacy." He hissed.
"No. I'm serious. Because that seems highly unlikely." You continued, yet again paying no mind to his pissed remarks.
"I'm too busy."
"Nah." You shook your head. "You're too clueless. You wouldn't be able to tell if someone likes you even if they held up a sign with huge red block letters spelling out the words 'I love you!'"
"Stop."
Yeah, you weren't sure how much longer you could hold that laugh back.
"You've never been on a date in this... I don't know, how old even are you– like twenty something years of your life?"
"I'm thirty. And no."
"Holy fuck, you're old." You exclaimed, caught off guard by the information. You knew he was older than you, just didn't think he was in thirties already. He looks so...young.
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are."
"It's not that old. I'm hardly a couple years older than you."
"Still old." You shrugged. "But damn, you're life's as dry as sandpaper."
"You do realize my life revolves around fighting titans? So excuse me if I didn't give romance a chance because I was too busy trying not to die." He mumbled.
You spluttered a cough trying to hide the sound of the laughter choking you. He had looked away when he said the words, but the tips of his ears were so, so red.
Never in your life have you seen him this flustered.
"Can you shut up now and let me work?"
"Aren't you charming?" You raised an eyebrow.
Then you paused.
"Say, captain, let me help you." You suddenly said. You couldn't resist the urge to fuck with him a little more. You'd be damned if you didn't.
"With... what?"
You grinned. "Dating. I could be your official love life assistant."
The reaction was exactly as you thought it'd be. His face was absolutely flushed.
"Fuck off."
"Now, that's just mean." You pretended to be offended. "Tip 1: you don't speak to ladies like that."
He stood up without saying a word, walking around the table and stopping besides you. Then with two fingers, he flicked your forehead. Hard.
"Ouch." You cursed under your breath, rubbing your temple and turning to look at him as he walked towards the door. "What was that for?"
"Youre insufferable." He said as he twisted open the door.
"Why thank you." You mumbled as he slammed the door shut behind him. "You're extremely lovable as well, beloved captain."
Levi leaned against the door, the corners of his mouth twitching up the slightest as he heard your laugher through the door.
Oh, but here's the the thing Levi hadn't told you.
That maybe, maybe, the reason he never even considered the approaches of the admirers, or even sometimes realize their intention wasn't because he was clueless. Maybe it's because he barely ever processes the words or the actions, think about it for a second for the situations to make sense.
That maybe, he had no intention to let anyone new in his life because he already had you. What more could he possibly want?
How could he? Not when you existed in his life, with your stupid face and your stupid voice and your stupid, stupid, stupid laugh.
Maybe, just maybe.
He doesn't notice faces much because yours never leave his mind.
@sad-darksoul
#aot#its kind of weird#just thinking#idk#captain levi#levi fluff#levi ackerman#snk#levi heichou#aot fandom#levi#aot fanfiction#snk fanfiction#levi x yn#captain levi x reader#levi x y/n#levi x reader#levi x you#levi thoughts
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That May Be All I Need
about: with Bradley, you're easy... just like Sunday morning. Or those early stages of new relationships.
word count: 5.4k
warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.
Months, literal figurative months since he’d left. You’d only been dating a few weeks, certainly nothing committal, before his lengthy deployment. It was drinks, some casual dates, some really, really great sex. You thought he’d probably forget about you, in all honesty. so when he ended up texting he wasn't far from land and hoping to get a drink somewhere with you that night, you didn't want to appear too eager. Yet here you were -
“Good morning,” he whispered lazily in your ear the next morning, the heat of the sun outside already heating up your bedroom, the sliver of gold peaking around the ridges of the willowy drapes. His body warm and hard against yours as he wrapped his long, muscular arms around you, large palms wrapping around your ribs, cheekily keeping their slight distance from the curve of your breasts. Not that you’d mind some morning delight in any stretch. Bradley’s body made you in-fucking-satiable. You’d never slept with anyone like him. His ability to give you exactly what you need every time… soft, sweet, rough, and the confidence to show yourself off a little. Please him as much as he would effortlessly please you.
He nuzzled just behind your ear, the light scratch of his moustache tickling the sensitive skin and you couldn’t resist your burgeoning grin as you snuggled in closer to him, and laced a hand back to scratch his scalp through the messy, next-day curls. “How’d you sleep?” his morning rasp was a thing of utter beauty.
You had one of the hottest men you’d ever met wrapped around your body… how did he think you slept? “I slept well,” you confirmed softly. He kept you tucked tight against him, his body coiled around you the whole night. You were never much of a snuggler before but with Bradley? Well, exceptions would be made because… look at him.
“I didn’t snore?” he asked, a little concerned as you laughed quietly.
“The teeniest, tiniest bit,” you indicated the smallest amount on your fingers, but in no way it was a dealbreaker.
He groaned. “Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so exhausted,” he confided. “And I only snore when I’m super tired. Just wake me up, and I’ll roll over,” he instructed for next time.
“How can you be sure that's true?” you teased.
He scoffed behind you. “I’ve been told," his voice dripping in humour.
The thing was, last night you were sprawled out over his chest while you felt his heartbeat and traced the ridges and ropes of the thick muscle and while he was so content, you would certainly not be waking the beast as much as you wanted to unleash it. He needed to catch up on all the sleep he could, even if he admitted he was a terrible sleeper. He was so used to the cramped conditions of his bunk, that even when in his own bed, he tended to stick close to the edge, smothered in his single pillow and stay to his regimented alarms.
But last night didn’t reflect that and you hoped he was finding ease in your bed… in more than ways than one.
“It’s okay,” you reassured him but you panicked. “I... didn’t snore?”
He shook his head. “If you did, I didn’t hear it, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. God, you would never get sick of hearing him call you that. The way the endearment rolled off his tongue could set you alight. “Thank goodness,” you muttered to yourself as he chuckled lightly. “Can I make you some coffee?”
He hummed. “Real coffee, not some shitty black tar?” he reasoned with himself teasingly, kissing the nape of your neck and you shuddered. He couldn’t resist that devilish, dark chuckle that came with it. “Coffee sounds amazing. But don’t you move,” he said, barely shuffling. “I’ll go figure it out,” he loosened his grip on you and while you wanted to protest, you’d been awake a little while and your wicked caffeine dependency had kicked right in.
Rolling to your back, you pulled the single white linen sheet up for some modesty and snuggled into the pillow that smelled like his cologne. You watched as he slid out of the bed and by god, his body… you knew you were staring. How were you to help it, the thick, well-worked golden muscle strewn across his long limbs and torso. He was an Adonis, you decided as you watched him reach for his boxer briefs discarded the night before. He was so hard, he made no secret about it as he boldly grinned down at you and bent over to cage your face between his large hands that grasped your pillow.
“Something catchin’ your eye?”
“Everything,” you admitted as his face hovered over yours, sinfully amused. He delicately licked your top lip and reactionary, your thighs rubbed together in glee. “Maybe the coffee can wait…” you told him as he gave a simple nod, lip quirking into a sweet pout.
“Yeah, the coffee can probably wait,” he agreed, tossing his underwear away and slipping back on the bed, gently pulling back the sheet you’d just dragged back up and resting his bulk on yours, boldly nudging your legs with his powerful thighs and giving a playful roll of his slender hips. You wrapped your calves around his hamstrings, bodies close again. His strong hands crept up your body, pinning your wrists in his calloused palm, keeping his grip tight above your head.
You liked that move. A lot. A lot a lot a lot -
You loved the strength of his body, he worked so hard on it to be able to put it through the rigours of his job daily and showed it off with pride. But what impressed you most was how his mind worked, you knew almost instantly he was a thinker and in those first few dates, casual and a little more intimate, he was always so much more interested in your life than indulging in his own. He said repeatedly that he didn’t want to bore you with what he did and did everything in his power to learn all about you. You’d never met a guy so keen to just listen.
Although it didn’t stop your mind from thinking about his life, his favourite food, what his favourite TV show was (but you were gathering from his penchant for sports, it was SportsCenter. Also not a dealbreaker, although he was a Lakers fan… and you were not), what made him tick… what turned him on -
His sweet lips kissed the corner of your mouth, ducking lower to your throat as your head instinctively rolled away, opening your pulse to him as he chuckled quietly, his gleaming teeth tenderly gnawing at the soft flesh and he could feel your pulse race under his touch.
“You’re not sore from last night?” he asked cautiously as the flashes of position after position of the night flashed in your brain. All delicious and your body, you’d admit, was a little on the sensitive side but you were not complaining. He’d given you everything, soft, sweet, rough. And something you didn’t know you’d been craving… he gave you control and watching him fall apart underneath you was a thing of beauty as you rode him. Face, cock, he was in the front-row dedicated sonnets to you.
“I am a bit…” you told him, a little bashful. But what a sweet sting.
“Where? Tell me, use your words…” he said, his breath hot against your nipple as he kissed with hot, slippery open mouth kisses, eyes big as he studied you. “Here?”
Not one single per cent irritated. You giggled in response. Giggled. What the fuck was he dragging out of you?
“How ‘bout here?” his tongue trailed between your ribs and his dark eyes stared back up at you.
“Oh, my God,” you couldn’t find the words and you moaned beneath him, almost struggling to get out of his stronghold to at least hold him back.
“Take that as a no…” he teasingly muttered to himself, his teeth leaving a gentle mark on your hip. “Here?”
“No,” you swallowed, as his strong nose traced to your belly button and he gazed up, his flushed face covered in sin, and his tongue dipped into your belly button. “I want you, Bradley…” you finally found the courage to say. You were the first to admit, you could be a bit bashful in a situation like this and unfortunately, Bradley was otherworldly hot and it was hard to get the words out. “Bradley, Bradley…”
“I know, sweetheart,” he said, releasing your wrists as wriggled your wrists and tangled your fingers in his messy curls. “I need breakfast,” he said, moving to his tummy flat on the bed and his calloused palms sliding under your thighs, resting them over his brawny, golden shoulders. You were completely at his whim as his long finger ran through your juices. He hummed satisfied and his silky tongue lapped at your cunt, and he was just so keen to please, encouraged by your waves of pleasure as he rutted his hips deep into the mattress, needing respite himself.
“Wanna make it a really good mornin’?” he asked the most obvious question in the history of the universe.
“Yes, God yes,” you said almost too eagerly, and you knew you should have been ashamed, but how could you when he showered you in attention and affection like he did? He chuckled into your skin, his tongue and lips indulging your skin in goose pimples, climbing up your body again to kiss you, tasting yourself on him as his hips slowly rolled into yours and he used his free hand to delicately place the head of head cock at your weeping core.
“That was emphatic, sweetheart,” he teased, pouring wet kisses across your breasts, his slick tongue circling your begging nipple as you writhed beneath him, demanding a little more friction. “Okay, okay, you are just gagging for cock, aren’t you?”
And yes, you were. Long, proud and girthy, Bradley Bradshaw had not a single thing to be concerned about. The jokes of his callsign ringing in your ears, the size of his cock, his penchant for early mornings (he in fact hated early mornings, he just liked to get to the gym early and prep his body for the day, which you found perfectly reasonable) and the many connotations of it, but the joke was on everyone else who didn’t get to feel this fucking good.
The way his hips rolled into you was bliss. He kissed you deeply as he fucked into you, your body trapped under his begging for release. His hips so fluid and smooth in their movement, you usually needed a little manual stimulation to get to orgasm but not with Bradley as you muttered in his ear that you were close and you guided his big hands into your tits, begging you don’t forget about them and he seemed to call up to the challenge, changing his position slightly to get that little bit deeper within you, because… of course, he could find your g-spot like it wasn’t even a challenge to him.
Was there nothing he couldn’t do?
He moved his kiss to your nipple, lapping and sucking like a madman. “You’re so tight and wet, sweetheart. Lemme hear you, huh?” He encouraged you, grinding deeply within you and the feral growl from him as you milked him, pussy throbbing around him as you pulled him closer to you, not wanting him to miss out on a drop of the divinity he was giving you, you loved coming on his perfect cock, just bliss as he groaned, trying to take every ounce from you. “Good girl... 'm comin',” he murmured against your mouth, his hips faulting as they sped up, unable to hold on as he came wildly. He gave his last few thrusts before collapsing above you and you wrapped your legs around him, not letting him go anywhere. He laughed quietly. “Got me in a tangle here.”
“Got anywhere to be?” you hissed back in a tease.
He gave you a thoughtful glance. “No, actually. Got nowhere else to be…” he pecked your lips, his moustache tickling. “Now how you feelin’?”
“Pretty fucked,” you admitted as he grinned wide, nudging your nose with his and he gently rolled you both to your sides and face each other. He refused to pull out and you knew you had a mess on your hands soon.
“Is that a good thing?”
“A very, very good thing,” you confirmed and if the stars shone out of your eyes, who were you to argue as you both snuggled together, neither willing to move just yet. And that suited you just fine. He made you feel warm, protected and as he kissed your forehead… a little like you were in love - -
A while later, showered and presentable although you still felt like your whole outlook screamed sensationally fucked all night and morning, Bradley admitted he needed food and could be a bit of a grouch if he got too hungry when you both finally rolled out of bed for separate showers. “I don’t know what time it is. I can’t find my fuckin’ watch,” he called from the bedroom. "Or my damn phone, though I think that's dead..."
“Under the bedside table?” you asked him.
“Ah. Found 'em,” he replied, a little relieved. “I feel we’ve lost most of the morning. Brunch or early lunch?” he asked, approaching you from the bedroom after his shower in the same clothes he arrived in yesterday, smelling a little like your sweet antiperspirant. His strong hands grasped at your hips as you bent over the dishwasher, putting last night’s dirty dishes that were all but forgotten to the wild make-out session while you attempted a movie after dinner. A farcical ruse if you’d ever heard one, but hey, it was worth your tender upper lip and the extra care you’d devoted to this morning and light concealer couldn’t fix the light irritation his moustache could cause. Frankly, he was such a good kisser… just thinking about his lips on yours made your head swim again and probably always would.
It felt like you were falling in love, you reasoned with yourself, and you probably were. But with what Bradley did, you were keeping a gentle, considerate barrier up. Mostly to save yourself if he wasn’t as into you as you were him… or that nagging feeling you couldn’t drop the whole time he was away, that he may not come back. Bradley was the total package, sweet, sexy, smart… sexy, funny. Sexy. He managed to tick all the boxes and in the short time you knew him, you were certainly falling head over heels.
You weren’t really clear how he was feeling but he was texting you as soon as his boat was coming into reception and asked if he could see you the night he was home so you begged that meant something. It was three months of not hearing from him, and he told you it would be difficult but he’d try. You Facetimed once, but it was innocuous. There was nothing committal, more his exercises and manoeuvres, life at sea, his jet and how he was excited to get home when it happened.
“Brunch sounds good,” you said, straightening and he pulled your back to his chest, his strong palms drifting up and down your sides pressing into the soft flesh. “Do you have a place in mind?”
“I dunno,” he admitted. “I’ll let you guide me.”
You had the perfect place. “There’s a cafe around the corner that has the best chilli eggs scramble,” your tummy grumbled eagerly.
“Fuel,” he teased, his teeth chewing on your earlobe as your knees started to wobble and Bradley brought you back against his chest, his hands deliberately turning you at the waist and his frame trapping you against the sink.
“Fuel?” you played dumb.
His lip quirked into a smirk and if you didn’t see the devil twinkle in his honey-coloured eyes… “You know what I like most about you?” he asked, barely breathing above a whisper.
“What?” you asked, your heart racing as his face hovered closer over yours.
“That you can see right through me and you think I don’t know.”
You bit back a grin of your own. “Well, I have to keep some secrets, don’t I?”
He hummed. “I bet,” and he kissed you again because if there was anything you were sure of, it was that no, you weren’t falling in love with Bradley Bradshaw. No.
You were in love with Bradley Bradshaw.
After breakfast, your lazy Sunday continued with a stroll through the local farmer’s market. You followed Bradley from stall to stall, admitting he’d never actually been to one but all the food trucks were awesome (he didn’t get much time to explore the phenom in his line of work and lack of real downtime. You had gotten the notion he willingly threw himself into his work but hadn’t verbalised it to him yet), and as someone who professed he enjoyed cooking, he was so excited by some of the produce, he couldn’t wait. He probably tried everything the vendors made available to taste test and the way his eyes rolled back into his head as he devoured probably more fresh blueberries than he should have was honestly? Adorable.
“Wait here,” he said, handing you a punnet of strawberries he was munching on. “Be right back,” he trotted away and you lost him momentarily in the throng of people. Not too concerned, you busied yourself petting a few dogs you’d gotten tangled in leads of, but you couldn’t contain the grin on your face when he reappeared a few moments later, a bouquet of colourful bulbs in his hand, offered to you.
You liked farmer’s market Bradley.
“You’re the sweetest,” you said, extremely touched and accepting the flowers. They were gorgeous, but this wasn’t a few stems, this was enough for vases spread around the entire house. You touched his chest and clasped his white v-neck tee, bringing his face down to yours and kissing him just that little hungrier than you’d been kissing earlier.
He giggled against your lips, his rough hands pressing into your ribs, massaging with his thumbs. “I’ll get you flowers every day if the response is this visceral.”
God, you wanted him. You wanted him everywhere.
Forehead to forehead, you momentarily lost the outside world and all you could see was him.
“I’ll have to make you blueberry pancakes next time to thank you…” you told him as he nodded, lips pursed and trying not to get too excited.
“Is this where I tell you I was a runner up in a state pancake eating challenge when I was 19?” he asked, giving you a cute side eye, acutely aware he was indulging something that was deeply personal from his past. He’d admitted he was always a bit uncomfortable talking about his childhood and teen years, with his family trauma and all.
“Runner up?” you asked, somewhat impressed.
“Yup,” he eased a little, his large, warm hand sliding his fingers between yours, his thumb delicately rubbing against your wrist. “You’d think it would put me off pancakes, but nope,” he popped the P, giggling quietly.
“And you weren’t sick?”
“Well, yeah. I’d just eaten my body weight in pancakes,” he explained. “I thought it was invincible then,” he said. “As I get older, I realise how untrue that is,” he said, leading you tenderly again.
“Do you get scared doing what you do?” you asked a little suddenly. Because even though you’d known him a short time, you’d realised what he did simply terrified you. It all seemed so second nature, but he’d flown into war zones, carried weapons that were made for the ultimate destruction and spent so much time away, that you suddenly felt very silly about it all.
“I do sometimes,” he admitted. “I’ve flown in some missions that I was sure I wasn’t going to come home from,” he gripped your hand that little bit tighter as he went over to a butcher. “Steak?” he asked, turning his gaze to the small selection in front of you.
“Sure,” you said, a little rattled still at his last statements about him thinking about not coming home to you - well, home. It was presumptuous to think… well, you. You watched as he bandied with the vendor, chuckling at the choice and cuts of meat before you and while you were stuck in your head, he was suddenly before you again, a gentle smile upon his handsome features.
“Earth to my sweetheart…” he sang quietly and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, dragging you in for a lovely cuddle. He kissed your hair, but you didn’t know how he let the sweet waft of your shampoo overwhelm his senses. “Sweetheart,” he sang. “Are you here on earth with me?”
And you wanted to say no, you wanted to tell him this all felt like such a good goddamn dream, you hoped you’d never wake up. “I’m with you,” you felt yourself saying as you wrapped your arms around him, slipping around his slender waist, your fingers daintily dipping under his casual white tee, drifting against the soft skin of his lower back, and you could feel him shudder under your touch.
“I like that,” he murmured to you and only you, his hand tenderly grasping your jaw and kissing you. Kissing you thoroughly, like you weren’t in a local park, surrounded by all types as you got lost in each other. A kiss so simply sweet that your heart raced. “I don’t know what you’re doing, sweetheart, but you’re winning me over like no one ever before.”
Blinking out of the kiss in the late morning sun, you watched as he licked his lips, peering down at you like he didn’t believe it was real.
“Bradley, this feels like a dream,” you admitted shyly. And although he didn’t answer, the way his lips danced into a small grin told you that it may not have been just you that felt like this. “You’re a dream.”
He shook his head slowly and every movement he made was like slow motion as he left his hands run down your body, a hand drifting down your arms to hold your hand again. Your hand fit perfectly in his, guiding you towards your car in the car park. And you followed because your thought process, all ability to think on your own, faded slowly, the more you spent time with him.
As you met him at the car, he placed you under his body and the driver’s side door, secure and unable to escape as he pulled his aviators from his eyes and he lifted your sunnies too. “You’re perfect; I need you to know that I really am having fun and enjoy spending time with you.”
You pressed your hands into his chest, firm and sturdy, and all you could see was him. “I really like you, Bradley.”
“I really like you too,” he laughed to himself. “Maybe even like like.”
It all felt so elementary, but even if you were in love, and with each passing minute you realised you were in fact, in love with Bradley Bradshaw. But saying those words before him? Never. You’d live with like like for now.
“Take me on an adventure,” he said, clicking the car remote key in your hand and you slipped into the driver’s side, and he raced to the passenger side. Take him on an adventure… he lived a wild life. How could you impress him? It was nearly midday… and by your calculations, you needed 90 minutes to get to the Happiest Place on Earth (with a detour to drop your market items in the fridge at home). You grinned at him as he looked back at you with a keen interest. He could see your mind work and he chuckled quietly.
“Okay.”
“You don’t like adrenaline rides?” you asked incredulously. “You fly billion-dollar fighter jets for a living for extended periods of your day and this scares you?” you could feel amused laughter bubbling under the surface as you covered your mouth with your hands. And he looked so ridiculous with his Mickey ears you purchased for him on the way in and wide eyes.
“Well, I am in complete control of that jet,” he reminded you sternly, posture tight and standing to his full height. He was so, so tall and so handsome, even with the ridiculous ears you’d christened him with as soon as you entered the park.
“This is, like, 60 seconds. 90 seconds max.”
“Nothing good comes in that amount of time,” and you could feel the smarminess in his tone as you cackled, dumping the ice cream in your hand in the passing bin and you dragged him into the ride line. You probably had 10-15 minutes to wait if you were lucky but you didn’t have the time to waste, you needed to get Bradley on as many rides as possible and you were a bit of a thrill seeker yourself. Guardians of the Galaxy awaited.
“How about I just take you up in my plane?” he offered as he watched you, giddy, on your toes. You laughed and told him a simple “no, thanks”. “I’m sure I could get some kind of clearance,” he rested his hands on your hips as he waited patiently behind you.
“I’m about 99% sure that, no, in no world, you could ever get clearance for me to go up in your jet,” you let that laughter spill as he rested his lips on your clavicle and the huff of heat from his breath against your neck told you that you were probably right. “Where would I even sit?” You humoured him.
“On my lap,” he said. “Keeping me nice an’ cozy.”
Ridiculous. “And how would you see around me if I’m keeping your lap nice and cozy?”
“I’d make do. Always do.”
“Use the gear stick?”
He laughed at your loose interpretation of his jet’s controls you used but replied anyway, “Pretty sure I could just work through it,” from behind you he closed the distance from his belly to your back, easing you against him. “Pretty good with most things between my legs.”
You eased back and giggled gently. “There are families here…” you hinted.
“Don’t care,” you could feel his grin against your skin as his hands firmed around your waist, dragging you flush against his chest and like a constrictor, wrapping his muscular arms around your torso. “Just keeping you safe in the line for the ride,” the tip of his nose drifted to the shell of your ear and you melted against him. “You just never know what’s lurking around the corner these days…”
“You’re trouble, Bradley Bradshaw.”
Home hours later, the sun had set by the time you’d arrived back at your villa, dark as you entered the house. Bradley crowded you as you unlocked the door and he stumbled in behind you, a mess of limbs and tongues as he thanked you for the unplanned afternoon. You clutched the ridiculous photo from the ride that proved Bradley didn’t enjoy cheap thrill rides in the slightest. Your hand thrust up in the air giving a peace sign, awaiting the flash and sheer terror rang in his eyes, anticipating the next drop. It was hilarious and it was going straight up on the fridge as a reminder of your wildly fun, completely unplanned day.
You had grown so close so quickly and yes, today proved you were ruthlessly in love with Bradley. And as he kissed you, holding your body so close like you were one person, you weren’t sure how you could go back to the person you were before you met him.
He’d empirically changed your DNA, the beat of your heart and the permanency of the smile on your face.
“Come on,” he pulled back a little. “Let me make you dinner. You must be starved.”
“Dinner?” all the air in your head was dizzying and you didn’t even think about eating even if you muttered the whole trip home how hungry you were.
“You know those steaks I got today? The veggies?” he teased.
“You’re gonna cook for me?” you were a little touched, stumbling behind him as he led you to the kitchen, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as you watched the rippling curve of his shoulders and traps. How were you ever going to get over him, you thought sadly.
“Of course,” he said, hitching you into the corner of the bench, pushing between your thighs and smiling, a gentle sigh escaping your lips. “Workin’ on the romance up in here,” he teased, touching your lower lip with his thumb. “I really had a great day today,” he confided, low.
“Me too,” you admitted, watching his lips keenly.
“I’m gonna have to head back to the old man’s tonight…” he said softly. He was staying in town with his dad (of sorts), who you’d come to learn to be Mav. You didn’t know too much about him, or Bradley’s family aside from when he confided he was an orphan just before he turned 18 . You figured it was probably the main reason why you knew very little about him. “My clothes and stuff are there.”
“You coming back?” you asked gently, not wanting to assume anything.
“I don’t want to impose…” he said. “I know you have work tomorrow morning.”
“You can completely impose,” you reassure him as his face broke into a shy smile, a little bit of relief washing over him, cutting the tension of the close proximity. “Look… I know this is new and fast, even though it feels so slow with me being away. I really like like spending time with you.”
“Like like…” you sighed quietly, ducking your eyes and while you teasingly mocked him, you prayed he may graduate to love and not leave you out on the ledge exposed and alone, believing it was only you feeling like this. No one liked feeling vulnerable in new relationships, but you needed to get a gauge on where he was. If he was swept up like you were. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that it was too fast, that you’d fallen too quick and for a man who demanded speed… he didn’t feel the same. You’d be okay with that, but you’d have to pull the breaks too.
“Do I need to say the words?” his voice so low, his usual air of confidence gone and pretences dropped. He seemed so soft, and willing as he tenderly kissed you, his fingers lacing into your hair, a tender tug as you gasped against his lips. “I think I’m in love with you. And I know it’s so fuckin’ quick, but it doesn’t change that I want you. That I need you…” he said so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him.
And the words got caught in your throat as his honey-coloured eyes searched yours, desperate for your reply.
“But if you’re not ready to say it back, that’s o - - ”
“I love you too, Bradley,” you told him as the flush in his cheeks deepened as he rested his forehead against yours.
“Yeah?”
“I do,” you nodded, softly as he cupped your chin and grinned. He may have been holding his breath as the huff of laughter fanned against your face and he kissed you.
“I don’t know how this has happened, I wasn’t expecting this when we met,” he whispered, tilting his forehead to rest against yours. "Be mine?"
“I'm yours,” and now that you’d found him, you weren’t letting him go.
masterlist.
A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x
#notroosterbradshaw#rooster#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#rooster top gun#top gun rooster#rooster bradshaw fic#rooster fanfic#rooster fluff#rooster imagine#rooster smut#rooster x reader#top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw smut#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fluff#rooster x you#rooster x oc#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x y/n#rooster bradshaw x reader#this is the most tags i've ever used and i'm sorry?#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun fic#bradley bradsaw x reader
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One thing I can’t stop thinking about is meeting a feeder at a bar and going to a hotel room with them where they can stuff me with as many burgers and fries as possible and then fuck me into the bed >.< im new to being a feedee too so it’d be so hot for dominant feeder to take me to bed and whisper dirty fantasies and encouragements while they explore my limits (of my sex drive and my belly🥰)
"Are you doing okay over here? Can I get you another drink?" the bartender says to you. It didn't really register to you because you were too busy looking around the room for your date. He was an hour late and hadn't responded to your text messages asking where he was.
"Yeah, I think I just got stood up." This was the first time you tried to go on a date since your big break up last year, so this cut extra deep. You even pulled you nicest outfit, even though it fit a little more snug than you remembered. Perhaps you had put on a few pounds since your breakup.
"Don't worry, I have just the thing for you." They walk away and start making you a drink. In a moment, they come back with a tropical looking drink with a pineapple fronds sticking out the top and a cherry. "Here you go, this is on the house and I ordered you a dessert from the kitchen, on me."
"Oh my God, that's so nice. You didn't have to do all that."
"It was my pleasure. Someone as cute as you are should never be stood up. It truly was their loss." They say and flash you a smile. You feel your face start to blush and you get the light flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You know bartenders will flirt sometimes to get better tips but for some reason you think they are being serious. Maybe this is just how bartenders work at these fancy hotel bars.
You take a sip of the drink. It's a combination of sweet, sour, and slightly spicy that makes you feel cozy and comfortable. In fact it's so easy to drink that by the time your dessert arrives, you hadn't even noticed that you drank the whole thing. The dessert is a fudge sunday piled high with ice cream, chocolate, and nuts. It looks delicious but monstrous. You don't know how you're going to finish this whole thing.
The bar is slow tonight so you two have a lot of time to talk. They tell you how they moved here a couple of months ago and were still getting adjusted to city life. You tell them about your job that you just got a new promotion for and how you've been trying to grow a houseplant but no matter what you do they keep dying. All the while, you're picking at your dessert and drinking these tasty drinks that they keep bringing you.
You're starting to feel pretty buzzed and your belly is so tight with all the sugar sweets. You look down and notice the buttons on your shirt are starting to strain and you waistband is digging into your now softer sides. How long had it been since you had this much fun talking to someone?
"Well, it's getting to be that time. Anything I can get you for last call?" They told you. This broke you out of your trance.
"Of course, they are here to work. Nobody would actually want to flirt with you and get to know you." You think to yourself. You were starting to spiral, but you were brought back by a simple question.
"Are you staying here at the hotel? If not, I get a free room. Maybe you could stay the night with me,"
You weren't crazy, they actually did like you. Maybe it was the alcohol but your face got super flushed and your heart started racing.
"Y-yes! I would like that very much."
"Well, here is the room key. I'm going to order some room service for after my shift so help yourself to whatever you like when it gets there. I'll be about 30 minutes to an hour until I'm done closing the bar. I'll see you then," they say and wink at you.
After getting a little lost in the maze of corridors that make up the hotel, you make your way to the room. It was a modest room but with how much your head was spinning from the booze, a comfy place to rest was appreciated. Especially with how tight your clothes were, you needed some release. As you tried to unbutton the strained buttons on your shirt, you accidentally popped a few of the off. Normally you would be mortified but it felt so good to have your belly freed from its prison of thread and buttons.
Beads of sweat were starting to pool on your forehead from walking are the hotel. “It must be the alcohol, I’m not that out of shape yet.” Yet? Were you planning on getting that out of shape? Your contemplation was cut short by a knock at the door. “Room service, may I come in?”
“One second,” you called back, desperately trying to cover your exposed gut. You find the bathrobe hanging by the bathroom door. It looks silly considering you’re still wearing your pants and shoes but it gets the job done.
“Hello, please come in.” You say and usher them in. They put an order of burger and fries on the tiny table, you thank them and they leave, but not before casting you an odd glance.
You check the time. The bartender shouldn’t be done closing the bar yet. “Did they order this for me? They must have.” Your head was spinning and your heart was starting to race. “They want you to eat. That’s why they gave you so much free stuff. You should eat for them, it would be so hot if you did.” Your belly still felt full from the dessert but it didn’t matter. You dug in.
The burger was huge, but it was delicious. The melted cheese pair so well with juicy burger and the crunch of the veggies was a nice texture. The fries were hot and crisp. You kept eating in a blissful daze. At some point you unbuttoned your pants to give your belly more room. You were in such a fugue state that you didn’t notice the juices from the burger dripping down your face and into your nicest shirt. You were about halfway done with hen there was another knock at the door followed by the sound of the keycard being inserted.
“Hey, I closed up a little early. I grabbed a couple beers from downstairs for us to share.” They stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw the state of you: Belly exposed, stuffed to the brim with food, and greasy juices dripping from your chin. They chuckled, “that was my dinner you know.”
“Oh God,” you thought to yourself. You could feel your face burning hot with embarrassment. “Of course, it’s their dinner. Why would I assume that they wanted me to eat more? That’s crazy!”
“But, it was also a test,” they said as they pulled up a chair next to you. After pulling a couple cans of beer from the six pack, they crack one open and bring it to your lips. Without thinking, you drink it down. It’s painful how the bubbling beverage pushes your stomach out even further. Before you know it, then can is empty. You try to stifle burps in between heavy gasps for air but are unsuccessful. They gently rub your belly to release some of the pressure. “I’m so happy I was right about you. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”
They pick up what’s left of the burger and hold it up to your face. You have to lean back in the chair to make more room in your gut. It smells so rich and greasy it’s sickening, but you want it anyways. You shouldn’t, and yet, you’ve never wanted anything more.
#wg text#feeding kink#wg fiction#wg encouragement#wg fantasy#trans feedist#gaining weight on purpose#soft feedism
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Uhmmmmm, I might need stoner minghao now that I have read your keeho story 🤭 (also with male reader pls, but the reader is clearly a bottom)
why of course my dear friend 🤭 stoner!minghao is so real
— STONER!MINGHAO WHO...
xu minghao (svt) x male!reader
warnings/tags: language, drug usage (marijuana), nsfw themes under the cut, non-idol!minghao, established relationship
main masterlist | svt masterlist
stoner!minghao who wears sunglasses 24/7 even indoors cause he's usually high as hell trying to do normal things
stoner!minghao who is the chillest guy ever when he's high, just sitting in the corner silently watching everything
stoner!minghao who goes and buys the most expensive clothes when he's shopping while high
stoner!minghao who met you through one of your friends at a party to which by the end of the night you were already high and making out with him
stoner!minghao who owns every smoking device possible, he's basically one of those influencers that post on instagram and twitter but without the actual influencing part since he doesn't film himself smoking, but he has a cabinet with everything he has
stoner!minghao who uses his resin with the rig to get himself super fucked up when he's out of bud only to have a bad headache afterwards and wonder why
stoner!minghao who celebrates 4/20 every year with his craziest smoking device (a 4 ft long bong...)
stoner!minghao who gets butter from his friend to make the most delicious but completely undosed edibles that leave you both laid on the couch or bed
stoner!minghao who experimented with mushrooms once and never did them again, he tried watching a show and couldn't stop focusing on all the colors, deciding to just stick to weed
stoner!minghao who likes when you sit on his lap with people around, especially at a party where you're both smoking and he can't keep his hands to himself
stoner!minghao who smokes a blunt while you ride him
stoner!minghao who hotboxes his car and pulls over in an alley to fuck you in the backseat
stoner!minghao who gets more vocal when he fucks while high, dirty talking to the max and constantly saying how good of a boy you are for him and how he loves that you take him so well every time
stoner!minghao who will gag you with your boxers if you're getting too loud and his friends are in the other room, pushing your face into the pillow to keep you quiet
stoner!minghao who takes a while to cum when he's high for some reason, so when you've came twice he's just barely getting to his first orgasm
stoner!minghao who will fuck you in a dressing room when shopping cause you just look so good in that outfit you're wearing that you end up having to buy it since it's ruined with cum stains
stoner!minghao who will overstim you to oblivion just cause he wants to until you're physically shaking and on the verge of tears
stoner!minghao who loves seeing you cry when you deepthroat his cock and he fucks your face, wiping the tears with his thumbs as he makes you swallow every last drop
#seventeen x reader#kpop x reader#kpop x male reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#svt x reader#seventeen x male reader#svt x male reader#xu minghao x reader#minghao x reader#minghao x male reader#xu minghao x male reader#minghao thoughts 💭#request
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Now I'm thinking about twisted anxiety reader being able to sing really well. I feel like there could be some very interesting/funny moments (4 us not reader).
Reader probably only sings in a reclusive area like a forest around the dorm
I wanna say that the forest already has haunting rumors about it ,and when someone (jade or rook) hears reader singing they think that the "ghost" is up and active again. So students start doing a "test of courage" type thing.
I put Jade or Rook being the one to hear reader cuz they're really the only ones that would really be in that area without a reason.
I also know they're intelligent enough to know it's not a ghost ,but start the rumor anyways cuz they want to know who's singing. And it becomes this big thing the school trying to figure out.
Cut to reader losing her mind cuz she like "wow, I didn't know people thought it was that bad. How am I supposed to live, laugh, love ever again??"
When in reality they were just memorized by reader's singing. And they really want to find out who it is.
Bonus points if they film it and sent it to the group chat you posted about earlier. And reader just has to be like 🧍♀️ "whattt???? No way!! 🤷♀️🤷♀️ a random voice in the woods 😱😱"
I'm sorry for sending 2 long asks back 2 back ,but twisted anxiety just gets my head going.
Also if you don't like being sent stuff like this just tell me and I won't send any more. I don't want to over step at all. These are just like head cannons I give to reader ,cuz I just love making things worse for her. Can't let her know what peace is
YOU
hOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY HEAD 🫵
i’m going to give you the fattest smooch alive you don’t understand. AND I LOVE IT WHEN I GET LONG ASKS!!! so please! ask away i don’t mind, i actually get really flattered that people want to share with me their long, detailed thoughts !! i was actually nervous people wouldn’t like my long responses 😖
no cause that’s ALWAYS one troupe i ALWAYS go back to.
i was thinking about making them a singer, REALLY I WAS- but i had second thoughts cause i thought people wouldn’t like it / maybe people would think its too… y-nie or im trying to make twisted anxiety reader too much, ya know
BUT OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU MEAH MWAH (also dw i got your other ask and fully plan on answering it, this one was just at the top of my inbox 🫶🫶)
but oh my god,,,, HEAR ME OUT;
twisted anxiety reader getting pent up because they. have. no. outlet.
none.
maybe they played a sport in their old world, but no longer can’t because seriously?? going up against beastmen, mermen, fae and just,,, men?! absolutely not.
they can’t do anything fun in ramshackle because of the ghosts can and will find a way to stick their noses into your business. also hello??? no privacy at ramshackle👎👎
honestly, twisted anxiety reader doesn’t have any friends so they can’t blow off steam that way either. and going to the gym is out of the question because 1. anxiety 2.gym bros- and working out at home is… different.
so there has to be a way to let off steam… good thing twisted anxiety reader dilly dallied in everything!!
they want to sing but aren’t confident enough to join the pop music club, and the walls to ramshackle are paper thin.
there’s absolutely no where you can go.
and yet… every time you glance at the forest. you can’t help but wonder…🤔
AND IVE ALWAYS IMAGINED READER SINGING
“everything stays” from adventure time
“love all mine” by mitski
“rises the moon” by liana flores
“sky fall” by adele
“memory” from cats
“listen” by beyoncé
“hopelessly devoted” by olivia newton-john
oh my god i have to make a separate post for this before i completely rot and accidentally write a whole chapter because i’ve been WAITING to write about this and i’d feel bad about making this SUPER LONG
but i can’t imagine rook going for a sunset “hike” (…sure, let’s go with that) and hearing you. belting your little heart to “hopelessly devoted” HAGFJAIWOFOSOWOFOAPEIFOZOQFOXOD
ROOK IS AWE STRUCK
such passion! such devotion! how marvelously beautiful! rook is stunned.
of course after you finish singing he can hear you moan and groan about trivial things but- rook hunt was not a hunt if he didn’t appreciate the gift the forest provided.
and yet, the carful hunter made a careless mistake. cursing silently, he glared at the twig his boots stepped on before he snapped his head up to the clearing up ahead.
ah, you fled.
to say rook was… upset was an understatement. yes he was able to marvel in your voice, but he lost the privilege to listen to more, to observe from afar.
the strange songs you sang and possibly wrote (what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him) are gone with the wind and the high step of your foot as you vanished into thin air.
rook could easily hunt you down, but he stopped himself after a slight muscle twitch. non non! he was the enjoyer of beauty! not the hunter! yes he hunted beauty but it would go against his very being to trap it instead of let it fly free and continue its song.
so let this be your little secret, okay.
jade would def walk into you singing ‘everything stays’
OR OR ROOK N JADE BOTH TAG TEAMING READER IN THE CHAT SAYING HOW THEY WISH TO MEET THIS BEAUTIFUL VOICED GOREST ‘NYMPH’ SO THEY CAN HEAR MORE OF THEIR SONGS
readers just like;
😟
“time to find a new location☝️”
*there’s no where those two won’t be able to find you fyi*
TWISTED ANXIETY READER WILL NEVER KNOW PEACE‼️‼️ NOT AS LONG AS IM HERE‼️‼️
please send more headcanons i love reading them 🙇🏻🙇🏻
babes this is me n u rn:
#MWAH MEAH MWAH ALL THE HUGS AND KISSES FOR YOU FOR SHARING THE SAME BRAIN CELLS AS ME HENCE ALLOWING ME TO WRITE ABOUT IT MWAH MWAH#guys… if i added this to twisted anxiety….#guys if this became canon…#hopefully y’all won’t get mad cause i wanna 🤞😋#twisted anxiety 🌀#tiyoin’s cuties 。 ඞ 。
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you know you like it.
johnny x thick POC! reader
shibari, oral (receiving), overstimulation, mentions of gagging and saliva (yum)
“don’t move” silence came from your end as your eyes watched him (as if you could) carefully seeing how he reached to fasten the rope behind you keeping your limbs in contact, it was hard to move feeling the rope stick to your skin it was no use, on the other hand, you tried your hardest to swallow as much saliva before it slid out of your mouth onto the ball gag to drip down your chest making such a mess.
"too tight?"
you shook your head 'no' giving you a sly smirk as he pet your head. he gently turned you around to have your rope-covered body facing away from him leaving him to stare at your bare back and bottom; he was drooling at the sight. when you, his innocent and very shy girlfriend approached him wanting to try shibari with him who was he to deny? he sat down watching tons and tons of videos on how to properly do it, using one of the many huge teddy bears he had gifted you in the past to master the patterns and to do it correctly without hurting you.
it took him about 2 weeks to get it right.. he was dedicated to it getting hard at the thought of you being completely helpless and retrained on the bed for him- it was better than he had ever imagined. running his hand down your body feeling both the rope and your soft burning skin following the dips of your body along with the now super prominent curves, so delectable he wanted to devour you.
"you should see yourself right now love.."
he placed you down gently to where you were now laying on your tummy with your ass in view exposing everything to the older who groaned at the sight of your cunt. he placed his large hand over one of your ass cheeks giving it a firm slap making you jolt and whimper; this was gonna be fun.
he repeated the action earning more gasps and whimpers that grew louder the harder he would impact you, leaving a dark red mark behind you trembling with chills coating your skin at the burning numbness covering your lower body.
"beautiful" he enjoyed watching your ass jiggle every time, he enjoyed all the sounds escaping you and seeing you like this gave him just another reason why to enjoy it even more, expect a million 'thank you's' from the male after this is over. he let his hand rest on your sore ass cheek creeping closer and closer to your sopping hole, fluttering as he ran his thumb over your hole to tease. he spread you apart to get a good look at you he adored your pussy with his whole heart, he would find himself between your legs eating you out almost every hour of the day just to get a taste of you, a taste that became a drug to him.
"god love.. i don't know if i can control myself any longer.."
he promised he would drag out the foreplay as long as possible so the both of you could enjoy this new experience longer.. he was trying, honest! but when he saw you approach him in the room dropping your robe leaving your naked exposed body for all to see, handing him the rope, and telling him to get to work.. he was gnawing on his inner cheek trying to keep himself from fucking you like a mad man.
you whined at his words wiggling a little trying to get him to do something with the throbbing pain between your legs. letting himself go he leaned in to connect his mouth with your pussy, you moaned as your mouth was covered with saliva, drooling onto the pillows with your eyes shut to fall into the feeling of johnnys tongue licking at your bud perfectly. you wanted to speak and form words to your lover but due to the ball gag in your mouth, there were restrictions.
he used both of his hands this time to spread your ass cheeks apart to get a better angle for your pussy to eat. you squirmed with no use since you stayed in the same place, he had a tight grip on you keeping you close hearing you let out muffled pleas and calls of his name as he proceeded to stimulate your clit. feeling his thumb making its way inside of you as he greedily had his way with you, holding onto you as if you were a bowling ball grinding down on the bed below him to keep his cock tamed enough to have at least a few orgasms rip through you this way.
replacing his thumb with his index finger instantly pumping in and out of you just how you liked, he was drunk off the taste and sight of you he couldn't think of any better way to spend his friday night honestly. "please cum for me baby wanna taste you.. need to taste you.." he spoke desperately as he added his middle finger into you, curling them at the perfect angle licking you; not missing a single beat of his built up rhythm he had set, he wanted all that you could give him.
"yes baby yes cum for me.."
you trembled with a squeal erupting from you as your orgasm hit you like a truck, clenching and unclenching around his fingers as his tongue licked you feverishly moaning at your juices that dripped down you never coming to a halt as you squirmed and jolted due to the overstimulation kicking in. the way your body had no access to moving away from him or to push him away he smirked hearing those pretty little wails coming from your gagged mouth
"m'sure you can give me more right love?"
tonight was gonna be a long night.
⭐︎
#nct smut#kpop smut#nct dream smut#nct u smut#johnny smut#johnny suh smut#johnny seo#nct 127 smut#johnny suh#johnny scenarios#thick reader#johnny suh imagines
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Waiting
Characters: Dad!Whitney, Mum!Reader, and your daughter Riley (featuring GN!River and GN!Robin)
Genre: Fluff/Angst (it DO get angsty...)
Warnings/Content: Unplanned pregnancy, brief allusion to abortion. Parenthood angst. Swears.
Word count: 3.2k
Summary: Riley’s turning 5 soon, and will be finishing pre-school in spring. You and Whitney meet with a local principal to discuss her enrolment – and it’s a familiar face.
A/N: I might do a longer A/N in another post because I have some THOUGHTS. This was super hard to write, but I’m so glad I persevered (thanks @propertyofwhitney67 for being my sounding board)
First version was too fluffy, second version was too angsty… hopefully this one is just right. I like it :)
A/N 2: I posted some thoughts.
The ticking clock is deafening.
You’re pretty sure life never used to involve this much waiting. But now, it felt like there was always a reason to wait.
It’s a battle to stop your foot tip-tapping against the tiles, and Whitney’s not faring much better. Oh, he tries to hide it, but you’ve known him long enough to spot the signs. Nibbling lightly on his sleeve, eyes glued to the clock. He’s tense, and it’s understandable given the circumstances. Whitney had insisted on arriving early to make a ‘good impression’. So far, it just meant more time sitting anxiously in the school corridor.
You hate waiting. You’d done your fair share, and it never got easier.
You remember waiting in the orphanage bathroom, where it took 3 minutes for tiny lines to appear on a piss-dipped stick. You were alone then, perched on the bathtub – so nauseous you might splatter the ceramic with vomit. Responsible boyfriend Whitney had insisted on using protection… Well, there were a few occasions where it might have been overlooked in the heat of the moment. You remember how panic’s long fingers wrapped your throat. And the guilt, too. Fertile little slut, aren’t you? Your own words. Whitney never blamed you, but there was no need when you were so good at that yourself.
You waited to tell Whitney you were pregnant – 12 lonely hours that left you feeling hollowed out with worry. You’d never discussed kids – because you were teenagers. Better tell him in person, you thought, staring at the ceiling through raw, reddened eyes. It’s the right thing to do. Ironic how you were so sure of yourself then –so naive. Parenthood raises so many questions, and not nearly enough answers. You wished you could still be so sure of the right thing to do.
Part of you still wishes you hadn’t waited to tell him in person, because you wish you’d never seen the colour drain from Whitney’s face. Rarely one to offer you the comfort of privacy, he’d insisted that whatever his slut had to say, it could be said on the roof in front of everyone. All you could manage was a whisper, but the impact was blinding. He vanished like smoke. You didn’t see or speak to Whitney for two days.
So, you waited.
He was waiting, too, ‘til those nasty, fearful, fucked up feelings could be gathered up and squashed down in the pit of his stomach - right where they fucking belong. He waited ‘til his knuckles were bruised against bricks, until his eyes stung dry in their sockets. Only then did he come to find you. When he did, Whitney clung to you fearfully as he waited for the right words to come. They didn’t for a long time.
You waited together for the first appointment, in a room much like this one – beige floor tiles, fluorescent light and walls tinged with pale piss-yellow paint. Whitney was nervous then, gripping your hand hard enough to hurt. You’d let him.
Despite fear, he never pushed you. Right off the bat, he told you he’d support any decision you chose to make, as any noble impregnator should. At the time, you tried hard to feel grateful – because it felt shitty not to be. Wasn’t he being so supportive, letting you take the lead?
But… it was lonely. It wasn’t until recently he’d shamefully admitted how it was easier to distance himself – leaving you to make that tough decision on your own. He’s sorry for that.
That was a long time ago, in another life. It would be Riley’s birthday soon – 5 years old, holy shit. Hard to believe she’d be finishing pre-school in summer, and starting Primary School in autumn. Picking the right school for your daughter was one of those Big Family Decisions you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to making. Now, you’re waiting to meet with the principal, to discuss Riley’s admission. You know to expect a familiar face.
River had been in charge of Willow Primary School for 3 years. From what you’d researched, they’d switched jobs shortly after Leighton’s arrest – who could blame them for wanting a fresh start? This school was going from strength to strength with River at the helm – and that’s exactly the reason you’d chosen it. All that remained was to convince them that Riley would be an excellent addition. How hard could it be? She’s a star.
“D’ya think River’ll remember us?” Whitney whispers, his eyes fixed on the clock. There’s no need to keep your voices low - there’s nobody else around, and the receptionist clearly doesn’t care. She’s busy clacking at her keyboard while the phone rings endlessly.
You smile wistfully. “Oh, they’ll remember you.” Easy answer – River probably still had flashbacks.
“You think?” Whitney stretches in the uncomfortable seat, leaning back. The flimsy chair creaks in protest. “Yeah… probly right…”
It startles you when the office door finally swings open; the sudden noise causes you both to stiffen in your seats. River looks… much the same as they did years ago, in all honesty. Only their hair’s a little greyer and they’re dressed a little smarter – a sharp suit befitting their new role as leader of a successful school. They look the part.
But practiced, professional composure is no match for the shock of seeing Whitney sat opposite – older, but still completely recognisable. In fact, you’re not even sure River notices you. When they speak, it’s not to you.
“Whitney,” they stride over, palm outstretched. “Always thought I’d be retired before any of your offspring made it into the school system.” You wonder how long River’s had that line rehearsed. You’re surprised to feel yourself relax; there’s some comfort in the familiarity of the teacher’s face.
Your eyes flicker to Whitney; he seems a little less anxious too - the sight of his old maths teacher must be reigniting a relaxed confidence. It’s not like Whitney was ever afraid of River – far from it. But it was safe to say they always had an interesting dynamic.
“River,” he nods, grasping the outstretched hand. Knowing Whitney, it’s sure to be an overly-firm handshake.
“And…” River’s expression wavers as they turn towards you – it’s painfully clear they’ve forgotten your name. Still, it doesn’t stop them from thrusting a hand into yours. There’s no choice but to reintroduce yourself. Maybe you can forgive their lapse in memory – you’re a pair of ghosts, after all.
Tentatively, you’re led inside the small office. It’s neat and organised – nothing like Leighton’s was. If anything, it’s little soulless, despite a few little touches of character. River settles behind the large wooden desk, and you perch on two chairs opposite. The air smells of… nothing. A vase of artificial sunflowers gather dust on the windowsill. There’s a school motto emblazoned on the wall, in an aggressively cursive font makes it impossible to read.
“Is little Riley not joining us?”
“No, she’s with a friend,” you explain. “They’re meeting us here after, though.”
It never actually occurred to you to bring Riley along – it might have been a smart move, actually. Your daughter regularly has strangers eating out of her hand.
“So,” River leans back, trying their best to look comfortable. “What can you tell me about Riley?”
Whitney glances to you expectantly. Looks like Mum’s fielding the first question.
“Well… she’s a great kid…” Already, you feel your shoulders ease into shrug, because it’s hard to know where to begin. Still, River seems to be hanging on your every word. “She’s turning 5 next month… She’s happy – really smart for her age. She’s can write her name, and her reading’s coming along really well, and-”
“You wanna see her, right?” Whitney doesn’t need a response - he’s tapped open his camera roll and is leaning over - fully prepared to give River a detailed context for each and every photograph. You smile knowingly. There’s likely to be a whole lot of photos.
You wonder which particular album River’s being treated to. Riley feeding ducks at the park in her brand-new raincoat… or maybe Riley wrapped in a striped football scarf, cheeks flushed with cold in the stands. Maybe it’s Riley throwing a tea party for her sizable plushie collection – you can never remember all their names like Dad can, or do the voices right. Whitney’s, beaming of course - once he gets started, there’s not much that can stop him.
But as extensive as the collection of snapshots is, you know it barely scratches the surface of what goes on at home. For instance, there’s probably no photos of Whitney tending Riley’s grazes after she fell off her first bike last spring – you still remember the pep-talk he gave her, because she parrots it back to you all the time. There’s probably no video of Whitney reading the Gruffalo for the 7th time in a row, just to soothe his feverish girl back to sleep after a nightmare. You’re pretty certain there’s no picture of him anxiously fiddling with his keys all day, just in case Riley needed picking up early from her first day of preschool. She didn’t.
“She has her dad’s eyes, then,” River turns to you, appealing for a little help getting the meeting back on track. Whitney’s far too engrossed to notice the teacher’s growing indifference – it’s a little funny. Who wouldn’t want to see all the awesome stuff his kid gets up to? Just look at her, she’s the best.
Anyone with half a brain could see that Riley had inherited most of her looks from Dad – those striking blue eyes were probably the best evidence. Her hair was beginning to darken now, as blonde hair often does as children reach Riley’s age. You’d not seen many photos of Whitney as a kid, but the few you had seen made it clear that the resemblance was spooky.
“Yeah,” Whitney beams, running a hand through his hair. “Not just my eyes, though. Same nose too, right River?” He’s gushing, in his element - full Dad-flow. In that moment, anyone in could be forgiven for thinking fatherhood is something Whitney always saw for himself. It’s pretty special.
After humouring a couple more photos, River politely slides the phone back across the desk. On screen, your daughter grins back – a smattering of freckles kiss the bridge of her nose, just beneath her sparkly purple sunglasses and a big straw hat. Whitney must have taken this one at the beach last summer.
River’s nodding briskly as Whitney finally pockets his phone. He looks relieved. You chat a little longer about the academics, with the teacher guiding conversation. You hear about Riley’s class, and who her teacher is likely to be. And you notice you’re… kinda rocking it. For a moment you wonder why you’d ever felt so nervous.
“What about… socially? Any issues?” River queries, tenting their fingers curiously.
It’s an innocent enough question, of course – exactly the sort of thing they’d asked at Riley’s pre-school. And it’s easy to answer honestly, because you couldn’t have been blessed with a more perfect kid.
You tell River everything – how Riley could find friends in an empty room, and how she always says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. From dance class on Monday, through to football training on Sunday morning… she’s a total ray of sunshine.
“Okay, let me rephrase…” It’s clear that River is considering their next words carefully. “Any… behavioural problems we should know about?”
Subtext hangs like a foul smell. Ah, there it is - judgement. You were no stranger to it as young parents – but you hadn’t been prepared for it to take this particular form. River wants your crystal-clear assurance. Can you blame them for asking?
What they want to ask is this - is your daughter going to cause us any trouble?
Whitney’s quick to respond like a whip. “No, she’s great. Like, the greatest kid ever… Everyone just loves her as soon as they meet her, y’know?” You sense his guard rising. The quiver in his voice is subtle; River won’t have noticed. Later, you wonder if it hurt Whitney to hear his daughter assessed against on his own misdeeds as a teen.
You offer your own thoughts, trying to diffuse the building tension – it’s probably standard question, after all. “Well, there was a hair-pulling phase, but she grew out of that pretty quick…��� you pause, searching your mind for anything else that might be worth mentioning. There really isn’t much. “She doesn-“
“I get it,” Whitney’s cutting you off. “You want to know she’s a little shit, right? Like me?”
His pointed tone takes River entirely off guard. You grip Whitney’s thigh under the desk, aiming to reassure him. It’s bouncing restlessly.
You’d sensed River’s prejudice too, of course… but despite the past, it’s not exactly fair. Riley’s 4. A familiar pallor plasters the teacher’s face as they stutter and backtrack, but Whitney’s on a roll now. He was never going to take any shit from his ex-maths teacher – be it real or perceived.
“Don’t worry. My kid’s nothing like me,” Whitney’s indignant, spitting words like venom. “That’s what you’re asking, right?”
Fear of fatherhood isn’t something Whitney discusses. But those feelings have to get bottled up somewhere… occasionally they explode – spitting and hissing like a wounded cat. That’s what’s happening right now in River’s office. Becoming a dad had changed Whitney in many ways… but clearly, his distrust of authority figures still runs pretty deep.
Not that yelling was a common occurrence at home. Whitney so rarely raised his voice, unless in response to some perceived danger or delight. Actually, you were a little envious. How did he manage to stay so chilled out, when you were both exhausted and running on fumes? Riley was far from a bad kid, but she could be stubborn, cheeky and opinionated. No prizes for guessing where she inherited those traits.
You know there’s probably no coming back from this - it’s all gone to shit. Whitney’s risen from the chair, still going.
“Know what?” he shrugs fiercely - gripping your arm, ready to leave. “You don’t deserve my daughter at your shitty school.”
At this point, there might still be some salvaging this – it’s a good school, after all. A grovelling phone call, or a heartfelt email detailing the stress you’re under. Maybe River will understand. Parenthood’s not easy, after all – and it’s not like either of you have much family support. It’s hard – and you’re sure lots of parents snap from time to time.
As Whitney pulls you away from the office, he leans back through the doorway, fixing his ex-teacher with a final sour assessment.
“Fuck you, you old cunt.”
Yeah, maybe there’s no fixing this after all.
You’re dragged down the corridor, past the stricken face of the receptionist… and the phone’s still ringing as you’re yanked through double doors into the crisp afternoon air.
When you reach the school gates, Whitney huffs deeply and leans against the railings. He’s lighting a cigarette, wasting no time in an effort to settle his adrenaline. The weather’s dry, but he hoists the hood of his jacket around his head.
You wait. It’s impossible to know what should be said. Sentence starters flicker through your mind, but none of them taste quite right. You let him smoke in silence for a bit.
“… There’s other schools,” you extend to the stillness. Whitney’s staring anywhere but your direction, waiting for uncomfortable feelings to simmer down enough before he speaks.
“I fucked up,” he mumbles. It’s painfully clear from the tightness in his jaw how much he knows it, too.
Still, he lets you squeeze his hand.
“Yeah, well… I’m proud of you for sticking up for her,” you offer in reply.
“Fuck off,” he scoffs. As he squeezes your hand back, you wonder if he might mean thank you.
You check your phone – there’s 1 new message from Robin. You hastily tap a reply. “They won’t be long.”
Whitney nods. His shoulders fall in a sigh; turned protectively away, avoiding your eyes. You can tell he’s gathering words.
"I mean what I said. Riley’s nothing like me… and I’m fucking glad. Because she’s awesome.”
It stings. It’s hard to see Whitney so insecure after all this time – still unable to see the amazing parent he’s become, and how adored he is. A fucking natural. You were jealous.
“She’s a lot like you, Whit…” It’s easy to list the ways – they’d been staring you in the face for 5 years. “She’s funny, feisty, loving, fearless... Not to mentionsuper clever… people just flock to her… Want me to keep going?”
He hums dismissively – studying the pavement. He takes a long, deep drag of nicotine before speaking.
“I just… I can’t believe she’s not messed up, y’know? Don’t know what the fuck I’m doing…”
Now that feeling was all too familiar. Your hand cluthes his in wordless solidarity.
It’s a while before the right words find your tongue.
“Thanks for doing this with me.”
Emotion needles at your throat. Because all too easy to remember a time when you thought he might not do this with you. You remember how scary that felt.
He’s wrapping an arm around your shoulder, squeezing firm enough to knock a little breath from your chest. “Wouldn’t do it with anyone else, idiot…” A kiss brushes your hair. “Get used to it.”
You smile, tucking yourself against Whitney’s chest. Over your shoulder, he’s looking down the street beneath coiling smoke. Waiting.
Sure enough, Riley and Robin round the corner, holding hands. It’s hard to tell exactly, but it looks as though your daughter is carrying a big stick in one hand – joyously tap-tapping it against the railings. Robin waves.
Whitney waves back, extinguishing his cigarette against the ground. He’d grown to appreciate Robin – they were a total godsend. Riley adored them, and the feeling was mutual.
“It’s cool that you two are still close,” Whitney muses. “Might be cool for Riley to have a little brother or sister or something…”
Before you can reply, Riley’s sprinting over – almost like he planned it. Her stick lays discarded on the pavement, and you can see a crown of daisies looped around her head. Little arms outstretched; she’s running over to you both with the biggest grin wrinkling her freckled nose. No, she’s running to Whitney.Of course – Daddy’s girl.
Whitney scoops her up easily, spinning round as she laughs and squeals and snorts with laughter.
“This my new school?” Riley asks breathlessly. You pick a stray daisy from her dark blonde fringe.
She’s tumbled her over in Dad’s arms; dangling, giggling and wriggling.
“Nah, not here," he kisses her squirming cheek. "You’re gonna go to a better school, squirt.”
#degrees of lewdity#degrees of lewdity fluff#degrees of lewdity fanfiction#dol fanfic#whitney the bully#whitney x reader#dol whitney
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Fuckin' with the Ecosystem- Chapter 3
Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader
Summary: With Carmy receiving Mikey's goodbye letter and you coming to understand the dire financial state of the restaurant, emotions are flying high. The nightmare doesn't let up until Carmy stumbles upon a fuck ton of money which leads him to ask you a very important question.
Warnings: Suicide mention, anxiety, cursing, alcohol.
A/n: This took way longer than I originally planned. This chapter is a long one and there's a lot of emotions. I wanted to make sure I did it right. I'm really enjoying writing this series and honestly I could write about Carmy all day, everyday! I've got big plans coming for this story so let me know if you want me to start a tag list. Please let me know what you think! Any interaction is super helpful for me :)
If you haven't read, here's: Chapter 1 and Chapter 2
Enjoy!
It's Tuesday, and you're very aware of the days slipping through your fingers. When booking your flights, you thought two weeks would be too long but thought it wouldn't be bad to have some left over time to check out Chicago. Now that you're here, you were worried you weren't going to have enough time to go through everything with Carmy before heading back.
You arrive at the restaurant at 9 am to see Carmy already here and the others starting to filter in. As per usual, Marcus has been in since 7am, exploring the world of dessert making.
You take a sip from your hot coffee before reaching over for the leatherbound book on the other end of the desk. You've only flipped through it lightly not seeing anything that would be any importance. But you decided to have a deeper look to see if you're missing anything.
You open it and start scanning it. Each page consisted of a list of numbers with no order or description. Some of them crossed out, other not. The further you studied it, the more confused you got.
Was this the way Mikey was keeping track of this debts? You thought to yourself resting your forehead on your hand as you continued to flick through the pages.
"Carmy" you called out seeing him walk past the office.
He paused and leaned into the doorway, his hair more chaotic than usual.
"Uhh.. you a'ight?" You checking in on him noticing his messy state.
"Y-yeah, good, Why?" He questioned.
You shook your head slightly, remembering the actual reason why you stopped him.
"I'm going through Mikey's notebooks and seeing if there's any notes he may written down, and I stumbled on KBL electric, ring any bells?" You asked moving the book closer to him.
He leans down and furrowed his brows, pausing for a moment. His arm resting on the back of the chair you're sitting on.
"Uhh.." He raised his eyebrows.
His eyes continued to stare at the notebook like his mind was searching for the connection. You noticed his curls sticking up awkwardly and smiled to yourself.
"No...no idea" He eventually said.
You paused for a moment before flicking a couple of pages and point your finger to the same words but with $300,000 scribbled underneath.
"This?" You asked again.
He shook his head and stood up. He had no clue what that was about. Mikey was known for not being clear, but this was a joke at this stage. He made a mental note on how important bookkeeping was going to be when this place got sorted. He was not going to go through this nightmare again.
"Mornin'" Richie yawned strolling by, sporting an original beef zipped hoodie.
"Cousin" Carmy called at him, making him take a few steps back.
You glance up at him and noticed the tiredness still clinging to his eyes.
"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Carmy gestured to the desk looking over at him.
Richie readjusted the strap on his shoulder of his bag and took a step forward. He leaned in, bringing his eyes to the page.
"KBL electric" He said to himself, thinking.
"Fuck if I know" He flickered his eyes and gave a shrug before continuing his way to his locker.
Carmy brought his hand to his forehead, pushing his hair back. He let out deep exhale, continuing to look at the writing in the book.
"Look, maybe I'll come across something else that might give us a hint." You said, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.
"I'll let you know if I see anything else." You brought your eyes back down to the book.
"Sounds good." Carmy stayed there for a beat before going back into the kitchen.
Time goes by, you have no idea how long it been. You hear a light cough and look up to see Marcus.
"Shit!" You gasped to yourself, completely startled.
"Fuck Marcus, a little warning? Maybe a knock?" You said putting your hand on your chest, feeling your racing heart.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He smiled looking down at you.
You brought your eyes down to see him holding a freshly made donut covered in icing sugar. He placed the plate on the desk.
"This looks.. unreal" You grinned picking up the donut glancing up at him.
"Yeah, well... I thought if I was gonna to really start nailing this down, I needed to learn the classics first." Marcus licked his lips, waiting for me to take my first bite.
You take a bite, a big one, making sure you get some of the filling. The dough is fresh and pulls away so delicately. Once you get a couple of chews in, the filling hits your tongue. The sweetest jam awakens your tastebuds. You raise your eyebrows out of pure instinct of how unexpectedly delicious it is. You pull away the donut and look at it to see the rich red filling oozes out of the donut. You bring your finger up to it to catch it before any of it drips off.
"Mhhmm...Dahhmmn Marcus." You called out with your mouth half full with donut.
He instantly beams, shining that big bright smile at you.
"Good?" He asked, angling his head.
"Fuck yeah, way better than good!" You complimented.
You lean in for another bite and stop.
"I can have the rest of this, right?" You double-checked looking up at him.
He nodded, chuffed with himself that he could get someone to react to his baking that way. With Syd and Carmy being critical about his previous attempts, he lacked the little bit of confidence.
You take another bite and enjoy the perks of being around a training prodigy of a pastry chef.
"Mmhh you show..mhh Syd... yet?" You asked with a mouthful of donut.
"Not yet.. I don't think I'm there yet. " He shook his head, putting his hands on his beanie.
"Marcus! Nah, I'm changing that." You swallowed and put the half ate donut back on the plate.
"Syd! Sy-" You yelled out leaning out the doorway over his shoulder.
"No, no- needa still fix-" Marcus put up his hands, trying to block the doorway. It didn't take a second before the swinging door opened.
"Yea?" She popped her head out, wondering what the commotion was.
"You gotta try this!" You said excitedly, glancing up at Marcus.
The grin was gone off his face and replaced with a slightly nervous one. You gave a slight apologetic one back, not wanting him to hate you after this. You reached for the donut handing the plate to Syd at the door way.
As she took a bite, you looked over to Marcus, who had his lips pressed into a fine line.
You both watched her, waiting for her reaction. She took a bite and chewed. After a few seconds, her eyebrows shot up, and she continued to feel the donut's texture between her two fingers, as she was eating it.
"Marcus, this is the shit." She looked up finally giving a big smile before giving him a playful punch in the arm.
The tension from Marcus shoulders melted away. He brought his hands up to his head and took a deep breath, a smile appeared on his face.
Marcus was still new to all of this and wanted to learn as much as possible. He didn't want to get too carried away though. From time to time he felt overwhelmed with all the guidance he would get from Carmy and Syd. He wouldn't know how to use that knowledge to make his recipes better. They were already so established in the flavors they liked. He was only starting to understand the basics.
"I have one recommendation, though." Syd sucked her lip in, still tasting the donut on her lips.
"Yeah, of course." Marcus looked at her eagerly, waiting for her response.
"The filling might be a little too sweet." She explained, dipping her fingertip in the red ooze that had spilled onto the plate and bringing it up to her mouth.
"Okay, that's fair" He agreed.
"Do you still have some of it left?" She asked
Marcus nodded looking at her.
"Here, let me show you something." She turns around heading to the kitchen with Marcus following her.
"Marcus!" You called him making him glance back at you.
"I think it was perfect" You grinned mocking a chefs kiss
"Heard" He chuckled, heading to the kitchen.
Before you know it, it's already Wednesday. You can tell that fatigue is catching. You wake up at 10:30am, sleeping through two of your alarms. You groaned out of bed still feeling like you need another six hours before it even makes a dent in your exhaustion. You unlock your phone to a text from Carmy.
Need to talk bills, let me know when you're in.
You check the time of the message. 6:30am
You get to the restaurant at noon and to say things were hectic, was an understatement. You popped your head into the kitchen to hear Carmy yelling orders more frantically than normal. No one saying a word. You noticed the line of tickets stacked up and thought maybe you would wait a bit for it to calm down.
You head to the office to see Richie on the chair scrolling on his phone.
"Mornin' sweetheart" He glanced up.
"What happened?" You asked taking your coat off.
"Sydney fucked up. That's what happenin'. Cousin blew his fuckin' head, told Syd to get the fuck out. Keep away if I was you" He got up and stretched.
"Gotta go back out now and fuckin' deal with this train wreck, fuck me." He groaned rubbing his face.
"Good luck with that," you grinned sitting down on the warmed up chair.
"Gonna need it." He mumbled, making his way back to the front.
You heard the door open and Carmy voice bellowed with anger before the door closed again and it was muffled.
Carmy stabbed the last ticket on the stack of paper and looked up at the clock. It was the fastest four hours that went by. The relief that overcame him knowing that they got through that catastrophe.
"Housekeeping chefs" He announced wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.
"Yes Chef" They replied as the start to clean up the mess around them.
He made his way to the office to see you sitting there.
"Wha-"
"Don't ask" He stated in the doorway pushing back his hair with both hands.
"Okay" You said taken aback by the bluntness.
He watched you for a moment. You had various bills in front of you. All with the dooming "overdue" print on it.
It was moments like this that he wished he could just walk out. The feeling of drowning in anxiety was unbearable. He didn't have the energy to fight it. He thought about just shutting the place down. Just accept defeat. Try and move on, maybe walk away from cooking for a beat. He would leave Chicago and not tell anyone. Just get away from everything for a couple of months. If he was honest with himself, he didn't even know if that's what he needed. He's been neglecting his needs for so long he didn't know what he actually wanted from life anymore.
You looked up at him after minutes of silence. He wasn't present anymore. He was completely dissociated. You did say anything. You continued to look at the money flow, the account book you put together last week.
"Sorry, I was-" He rubbed his eyes, waking himself up from the negative thoughts.
"Just so fuckin' tired" He mumbled taking another couple of steps in.
You clicked your pen a couple of times thinking about how to phrase the news you had.
"So...What's up?" He asked bringing his full attention to you.
He felt your hesitation.
"That bad huh?" He breathed out.
You looked up to see his face was red and his eyes tired. His hair was wet with sweat.
"Y-Yeah, it is" you pressed your lips together.
You pointed the end of the pen to the electric bill.
"You only have enough money to cover electric bill or your produce order." You said straight out.
"Fffuck," He said quietly, looking down at the bill.
"When does the electric bill have to be paid?" He asked
"In 4 days"
Carmy head dropped, his eyes closed, and he took a deep breath. He wasn't even sure if this nightmare was real anymore. He didn't think anymore shit could get more fucked.
"Carmy"
He brought his eyes to you.
"Let me help," you started, knowing he wasn't going to like what was going to come out of your mouth.
"Let me cover this bill, just so-"
"No fuckin' way. No. " He raised his hand, stopping you in your tracks.
"Bu-"
"Stop, not happenin'." He snapped.
He glared into you, not wanting you to say another word about your ideas.
He couldn't even fathom the idea of you pumping your own money into the place. He's not even paying you. What type of owner would he be - or even a friend? It was bad enough that he had to sell his own sentimental belongings just to have meat to work with for the next day.
"I'll figure somethin' out," he stated.
He sat down at the bench between the lockers. He rested his arms on his thigh, bent over with his head in his hands. Today was.... he couldn't even think of a word. Every time he thinks this place can't go anywhere, it hits a different rock bottom. It's been in his possession for 3 weeks. It'll be closed in the next three if something doesn't change.
He felt a body sit beside him on the bench and gave a side eye. Richie sat next to him. Richie was the last person he needed to talk to right now. He couldn't deal with his bullshit.
Richie leaned over behind the locker and picked up a white envelope before sitting back on the bench. There was a beat of silence between them.
If there was ever a time where Richie felt would be the right moment to give Carmy this. It would be now. He looked over to see Carmy completely defeated and exhausted. Since arriving here, Carmy has put all his energy into this place, and it has fucked him every way possible.
Richie felt relief when Carmy arrived one morning on his doorstep. After the funeral, Richie had chaos released on him. Mikey's family asked when Carmy would come back to take over the restaurant. Sugar trying to contact both of them, to grasp any information on what was happening. Richie didn't know anything and now had to handle taking over the place with no idea what to do. To see Carmy in front of him, he had never been happier seeing him than that day.
Carmy looked over, his face change from fed up to anxious instantly, noticing what was in Richie's hand. Carmy recognized the writing and felt his heart pick up. The writing scrawled on the front with a black ink.
To Carmy,
From Mikey.
Carmy hesitantly took it off of him, not lifting his stare from it.
"What is this?" He asked concerned, looking at Richie.
Richie gestured his hands. He didn't know what to say.
"I don't know," he murmured.
Carmy eyes flickered between the envelope and Richie, not understanding what was happening.
"Richie, wh-what the fuck is this?" Carmy spoke up, grasping the envelope with a firmer grip.
"I don't know..." Richie shook his head gently.
"...And I didn't really want to give it to you 'cause.... it meant he was gone. Um, but, uh..." He broke off, feeling his stomach churn.
Carmy looked at him, feeling pain in his chest. He watched Richie, seeing the grief cascade over his face and realize he wasn't the only one going through this. Carmy placed his hand on Richie leg, Richie brought his arm to Carmy's back and for that moment, they both felt the devastation of Mikey presence finally gone. They sat there for a while before Richie got up, giving Carmy the space he needed.
It ran through Carmy's mind if he should even open the letter. Was it worth the wound that was going to be torn up with reading it. He didn't know if he was going to have the strength to continue today.
He needed to go elsewhere. No fucking way was he having the chance of anyone catching him in this sorry state. He made his way to a side alley next to the building. The cold air hitting his red hot skin making it feel like it was on fire. His heart was thumping. He got on his honkers and stared at it.
Maybe, he should wait til' he's home tonight?
Fuck it, he thought to himself.
He stared at it, in his shaky hands, before taking a deep inhale.
"Stupid" He whispered to himself not wanting to make a big deal out of this.
Even though this was going to be the last contact he was going to have with his brother. It was final. Mikey had the last say. After all the time of Carmy thinking Mikey left him nothing. Somehow, this felt worse because he knew for certain Mikey had this all planned. It made it more real than just hearing about it from people's mouths.
Carmy bit his lip, his feelings whelming up inside, finally it was hitting him.
He flipped it over and start ripping it open quickly.
There it was. Two small sentences in the center of the page.
I love you dude.
Let it rip
His eyes ran over the words again and again. Hearing Mikey voice in his head. Carmy choked back tears, bringing his hand up to his face, his eyes never leaving the words. The lump in his throat became unbearable. He felt his body start to tremble. The pain in his chest became stronger to the point that he held his breath to ease the strain.
After a moment, he took a breath in, feeling agony wash over him.
"Fuck you.. fuck you" He sniffled.
He knew it was going to hit him. It did. This scrap of paper made all the feelings he have been brewing since getting the phone call finally come up.
He took deep breaths and looked up. He focused on trying not to lose it completely. The wave of grief over swept him like he was drowning. The tightness in his chest constricting and releasing.
He flipped over the piece of paper and saw the family's spaghetti recipe wrote on the back. No instructions, just the ingredients. A small smile crept up on his face.
After a few minutes of steady breathing, he pulled himself together. He put the letter into the envelope and shoved it in his pocket.
He went back into the kitchen to see everyone prepping. He noticed Richie's eyes following him as he weaved through the station.
"You a'ight?" Richie whispered, coming up behind him.
Carmy nodded before reaching up for a 28oz can of tomato sauce.
"I'm.. gonna make spaghetti. I need to clear my head for a bit, " he mumbled, bringing it to the countertop.
"Uhh.. okay" Richie hesitated before giving a worried look to Tina.
She shrugged her shoulders making her way to the walk-in.
Carmy knew prep needed to get done but he just needed sometime to turn off his thoughts and get lost in cooking without thinking about it. He wanted his body to go into autopilot.
He added the garlic cloves to the pot and poured in an eye measurement of oil, clicking on the gas ring until a flame emitted on the surface. In another pan, he had half onions getting fried in butter. As they sizzled away, he leaned over to grab a can opener and opened one of the cans before dumping the contents with the onion.
He saw hints of green mixed with the tomatoes and shoved it around to see it was a lump of something. He grabbed it and wiped away the remaining sauce surrounding it.
"There's no fuckin' way" He said to himself tearing off the clear wrapping on the suspicious looking bundle of money. The hundred dollar number facing back at him, he couldn't believe his eyes.
"Cousin!" He urgently yelled not taking his eyes off the hundred dollar notes in his hand.
"Yo!"
"HELP" He shouted back coming to the realization of what might be happening.
You heard the racket from the office, hoping it wasn't another meltdown situation. As you entered the kitchen you saw everyone walk past your with cans and cans of tomatoes.
"Get you ass to work, Chica," Tina grinned.
"What?" You asked, completely confused about what was going on.
"Money." She beamed before continuing her way.
You went to where the cans where stored to see Richie stacking them on a metal tray.
"You're not gonna fuckin' believe this" He snickered.
That evening Carmy gave you the run down of what he thought Mikey did. He showed you the KBL on the lid of the unsuspicious can of tomato sauce. The hint that you were looking for was right into front of you the whole time. Everyone walked past those cans 50 times a day, not blinking an eye. Hidden in plain sight.
For the rest of the evening, everyone got plenty of practice on their can opening skills. Tomato sauce was everywhere. Everyone emptying the cans and pulling out bundles of money. Richie was tallying it up with his calculator. Syd came to join us, completely unaware of the jacket pot that landed on all of you during the day. Carmy spoke to her about what the money could do for them. For the restaurant, and with that, she was reeled it.
Everyone was at an all time high with the sudden change in events, Carmy decided that service wasn't happening for the rest of the day. He knew everyone needed one night of blowing off steam for, hopefully, the new chapter ahead that he had in his mind.
"How many should I get?" You asked dialing the number on the office phone.
"Uh... 10?" Carmy suggested, scratching back of his head.
You order several types of Chicago deep dish pizzas with excited muffled voices in the other room.
You hung up the phone after making the order and looked over at Carmy who was still standing there, dissociated or exhausted or maybe both.
"Well we finally got the hint" You smiled putting the phone back on the desk.
He snapped out of his trance.
"Oh yea, you could say that" He gave a little smile.
You could both hear the happy chatter over in the next room with Richie's booming voice echoing the most.
"My sister, Suga, is coming over."
"Oh that's great"
In the time you were working with Carmy, he would only really bring up Sugar. You knew Mikey existed but Sugar's name came up the most in conversation. You would also see him get phone calls from her time to time.
Richie went to collect the pizzas. You and Carmy joined everyone in the side room. Tina was chatting to Sydney, helping her lay out the long table. Marcus in the corner hooking up his phone with Richie small speaker. Everyone else was scattered around the room talking.
"Hey!" A blonde woman walked in with a big smile on her face.
Carmy instantly drew her into a hug. He leaned back glancing at me before looking back at her.
"This is Suga" He introduced me to her
She smiled over at me and opened her arms to me.
"Oh my god, it's great to finally meet you. Carmy has told me a lot about you over the years" Suga gave me a squeeze before pulling away.
"Really?" You said surprised, not even thinking he would bring you up to other people.
"Same here!" You grinned back.
"We gotta talk later about what the hell is going on" She side mouthed to Carmy before making her way to Tina who was already greeting her.
Richie finally came back with the pizzas and everyone started digging in. You found yourself stuck in a conversation with Richie and Fak
"I swear to fuckin' God it happened" Richie exclaimed telling the story on how Bill Murray is his voicemail.
"I've heard it and it's true" Fak reassuringly nodded at you.
You shook your head in disbelief, knowing it was going to rile up Richie.
"C'mon, you fuckin' believe me, ight?" Richie turned his head to you.
"Well, to be honest, I would have to hear it." You shrugged your shoulders, giving a quick cheeky smile to Fak.
"Fuck it, do you have your phone?"
Fak and I both shook our heads.
"Let me get my phone" Richie felt his pockets trying to place his.
"Hold up" He raised his hand before he walks off towards the kitchen on the mission to find his phone.
As your eyes followed Richie walk out, your sight landed on Carmy sitting at the table talking to Sugar about this evening. You notice his hand was in his hair as he listened to her.
You tell Fak that you're going to get something to drink, asking him if he wanted anything. He said he was good before getting distracted with a song that Marcus had just put on. He boogied his way to Marcus, reeling him in on a fake fishing line.
You made your way to grab a beer out of one of the ice buckets on the table.
"I see you." You hear a voice, and you look down to see Tina sitting at the table picking at her leftover crust.
"Huh?"
She smiled suspiciously before gesturing you to sit down across from her.
"So, how long have you've been..." She rolls her eye towards Carmy at the end of the table.
You glanced over to see him still occupied with Sugar.
"I have no i-"
"Naw, don't play dumb with me. I see the looks you give each other" She narrowed her eyes stilling grinning.
You finally caught on to what she was on about and immediately chuckled.
"Oh no, noth- we're just friends." You smiled, feeling caught off guard on what to say.
"Not in my eyes," she quipped back, taking a drink from her beer.
You looked over to Carmy, and caught him looking at you and immediately took his eyes away. You felt shy all of a sudden. You tried to think back to see if there were any times you and Carmy seemed to be closer to than friends, especially from people looking from the outside in. Nothing came to mind.
"I'm telling you Chica, I'm not judging. Just wonderin' how long has it been going on"
"Well we've never been... together that way" You felt embarrassed explaining to Tina.
She pulled back with her eyebrows raised
"You coulda fooled me" She remarked.
"Here! Here listen" Richie came over shoving his phone in your hand.
You brought the phone up to your ear and on the other end was the voice of Bill Murray.
"Damn," you said to yourself, seeing Richie grin become bigger.
"Fuckin' told you"
You were impressed that you could actually hear Bill Murray and realized that Richie wasn't lying. It's not that you didn't believe him, but maybe didn't take everything he said to heart.
You felt a tap on your shoulder and looked over to see Carmy behind you.
"Wanna talk to you in the office, for a min" He said with a serious tone.
You nodded handing the phone back to Richie. You got up and felt Tina eyes not leaving you until you walked out of the room.
For some reason, your stomach did a flip. What was this about. This is the most relaxed the place has been since you've arrived here. But you could tell Carmy was far from relaxed.
He sat in the chair in the office before leaning over to pull out a foldable chair for you to sit on. As you sat down, you noticed his leg jittering. His inked fingers were tapping on the desk like he was thinking about something.
"Uh.. So I was talkin' to Suga and explainin' everything that happened with the tomato cans and money." He started looking at you.
"She saw all the paper you helped filed and I told her about all the late nights you've been here. Non stop..." He further explained.
As he went on, tension was in the air. You had no idea what he was going on about but him talking more and more made you nervous.
"Carmy" You stated trying to get him to the point.
"Uh.. sorry- fuck" He pushed his hair back and looked down.
"You've been a massive fuckin' help to us. This is crazy to even bring up, so don't worry if you don't wanna..." He continued to ramble.
"I wanna offer you a position here," He finally said.
"What?" You stunned by what just came out of his mouth.
"I wanna offer you a job. I've talked to everyone, and they would love to have you here. It makes sense. You're already caught up on the financial situation, and I trust you."
"Move to Chicago?" You looked down, picking your fingers nervously.
"Uh, y-yeah. I know it's a big ask. I know I still have to pay you for the two weeks, too. But everyone would hate to see you go and-"
"Everyone?" You sputtered out, only realizing after, you said it out loud.
You looked up into his eyes. His blue stare gazing back to you.
"... I w-would, " He stuttered, breaking a small smile.
You felt your heart skip. The thought of moving to Chicago made your stomach flutter. The idea of coming to this place every week made you smile. But most importantly, seeing Carmy daily gave you a weird comfort.
"I have big plans for this place. I would only want people by my side that I know I can count on. One of them is you." He tapped his fingers on the desk lightly.
Your mind went to all the things you would have to start organizing. Your old apartment, moving furniture, driving back to Chicago. It was a lot, especially by yourself.
"I don't know how long-"
"Don't worry, there's no rush. Take the time you need to move here." He scrambled, feeling he was asking a lot from you.
There was a moment of silence between you both. He could tell you were overwhelmed.
"I wanna help you move..." He spoke up, seeing the unexpected look on your face.
".. if only you want," he added not wanting to be too forward.
"Are you sure?" You pressed your lips into fine line.
"Yea, yeah, with both of us, it would be faster. Plus, everyone here could start breaking this place down. " He motioned to his surroundings.
"Look, I'm not asking for an answer now. But, think about it ?" He leaned closer.
You nodded, looking back at him.
Carmy wanted you to say yes. He didn't want to say goodbye. Over the last few weeks, he's gotten used to seeing you. Him going to you moments when he felt everything was falling apart. The rising anxiety he felt imagining you flying off at the end of the week. Him not seeing you come in with coffee for him in the morning. Him making you a quick bite, knowing you would have forgotten to eat all day. In this short period of time, he fell into a routine with you.
The only thing giving him peace was that this place was going to be hectic when it came to renovation that he'll hopefully be too busy to notice you were gone.
"Marcus made us cake! Get some before it's all gone with Richie fat ass. " Tina smirked, leaning into the doorway.
"Go ahead, ill be out in a min" Carmy ushered you away with him staying behind.
"Lovebirds," She muttered, wagging her eyebrows mockingly.
You rolled your eyes, giving her light shove.
Everyone dug into the moist, delicious, double layered chocolate cake. They uttered compliments to Marcus as they took their first bites. It was the perfect thing to end the crazy day. Carmy finally joined you all and picked up a piece of cake that Sydney was guarding against Fak, who wanted seconds.
You both kept separate sides of the room but felt each other's stares. Whatever was growing between each other, you're both hoping it was a wave that would fade away. Just the novelty after not seeing each other for so long. Or maybe the fact that you might not see each other again.
You wanted to think about this straight. It would be easy to get caught up in the fantasy of starting a new life here. You had to think things through, talk to your parents. You knew they were going to question you when it came to your incentives to moving to Chicago. You were apprehensive bringing up Carmy, knowing them hearing a boy's name will ring alarm bells. Did you really want to move to Chicago? Do you really want to commit to a restaurant that doesn't even exist yet? Were you putting yourself through all this trouble just to please a close friend of yours?
These were all questions that were causing you anxiety. You pushed those thoughts out of your head wanting to enjoy one fun night with these group of people that you've become so close with.
"Shots! Shots! Shots!" Richie shouted raising the bottle of Tequila entering the room.
"Here's to a new fuckin' start Cousin!" Richie yelled wrapping his arm around Carmy shoulder pulling him in closer to him.
Carmy grinned, for once giving in to Richie hyper emotions and wrapped his arm around him. His eyes travelled across the room and landed on you. He gestured for you to come over. Richie was pouring shots for everyone. Even if you didn't want one, it didn't seem to be an option.
"I just wanna say.. that I know the last month has been hell" Carmy spoke up bringing the attention to him.
"But, this is the beginning of something bigger than all of us and I know we'll be able to pull it off..." He glanced to everyone holding his cup of tequila.
"So let's make this place something we're proud of...." He paused bringing his cup up.
"and let it rip" He announced
Everyone brought their cups together before downing the tequila.
Chapter 4
Masterlist to other fics
#fanfic#fluff#fanfiction#love#carmy berzatto#carmy the bear#the bear#carmy x reader#chicago#carmy x richie#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear fx#the bear hulu#carmy berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x you#the bear headcanon#fuckin with the Ecosystem#jeremy allen white
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Band of brothers headcanons, how they react to accidentally upsetting you.
I just felt like writing something a little angsty because who doesn’t love that 😈
Eugene Roe:
This mf would be so confused, hear me out ok.
he’s so so smart and kind and caring, legit perfect, but humans do make mistakes! So in Gene’s case I feel like he maybe doesn’t understand why you may be frustrated/ hurt in a specific scenario.
“but I don’t understand, you said it was fine, like two secundz ago.” The boy is DUMBFOUNDED and then because you’re so frustrated and probably just tired for one reason or another, you burst into tears.
genes eyes widen and then he realised he’s probably messed up by not at least trying to understand.
ahhhh he’d spring off his feet, and kinda dither in front of you, a little confused. He’d be SO apologetic and his hands would kinda smooth over your hair, fixing it from where you’d messed it up slightly.
Gene would kinda click that he made you upset pretty quickly, so I think he’d be prepared to do anything he can to make you feel better as soon as possible.
Lewis Nixon:
I feel like with Lewis his drinking settles massive when he meets you, he’s happy and doesn’t need alcohol as an outlet.
But maybe in the early days of your relationship, like you’re in Austria or somewhere, he gets a little too drunk and it completely ruins the plan you put so much effort in for you both.
the morning after is when I think Lewis knows he’s fucked up. He’d spring out of his bed, no hangover could set him back, and he’s hurrying to find you immediately.
turns up at your door all dishevelled and your friend is like ‘no you’re not speaking to her’ but with some pleading it works. She’s ballsy, because he is her superior after all.
apologises like crazy, asks what he can do to fix it? I think he’d genuinely feel such a strong sense of guilt, that whatever he did won’t ever happen again because the sad little look on your face sticks with him for a longggg time.
Babe Heffron:
“Babe, I think you upset her…”
“Wha’? What’d I do?!” Kinda baffled ngl, but either way all he cares about is that you’re upset. I think it would when the two of you were still friends, and he friend zoned you HARD after months of flirting and showing interest. Obviously he doesn’t mean to do this because you’re beautiful and so perfect, and he’s kinda in love with you.
chases after you down the street, well not literally, but he wants to see if you’re okay.
he’s so cute, and you’re so nervous to admit why it upset you, so he kinda takes a good few minutes just putting the pieces together until he’s like. “Oh… OH! You mean? You mean that ya’ upset because ya’ thought I only saw you as just a friend?!”
he’s in awe that you have the same feelings, he’s truly blind to it, but feels bad after because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. He just honestly thought there wasn’t a chance on earth than you’d feel the same.
Joe Liebgott:
Probably says something in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t mean.
Panic immediately after when he realises what he actually said. But you’re so pissed off you just snap right back at him and storm off, getting the space you need.
now Joe can be rash in the heat of the moment, but he isn’t a fool, nor is he mean spirited or nasty. He genuinely cares about you, he hates that he said something just outta pure anger.
you bet he’d be lingering outside your bedroom door, sighing dramatically and knocking as he anxiously awaits your response.
cuddles you like crazy, apologises pretty soon, especially if the argument has cooled down. He’d make it up for you by taking you on a long drive in his cab, buys you flowers, anything you want because you’re his girl and you deserve it.
although Joe can be quite rash, he is a huge softie, so I don’t think it’s EVER a common occurrence when he says something hurtful to you. It’s probably a one off? People always make mistakes, Joe doesn’t take that lightly on himself however.
super gentle with you afterwards, wishes he could truly take his words back. Vows to never upset you like that ever again, and you best believe he sticks to it.
George Luz:
I feel like it would be a joke taken a little too far by accident.
he’d find you crying and he panics omg he’s like “what?! No, no, what’s wrong?!”
Then you’d be all like “is that what you think of me?!” And it takes a moment to click in his mind when he’s like- “oh SHIT!”
panics that he upset you, he’s upset himself for making you feel that way.
but he’s just a big ball of love and reassurance, you know from how genuinely serious he is that he didn’t mean to upset you.
maybe tries to crack another joke after, but this time it’s actually funny.
Ron Speirs:
Ron is a clever man, he really understands your emotions and what hurts them.
so when you’re upset in front of a group of people, Ron has no choice but to remain professional, no matter how much it hurts.
kinda can’t do anything other than just stare at you hoping you’re getting the message. He’s all wide eyed and flustered and wants to move on from whatever they’re all doing so he can attend to you.
it probably eats him up all day after that, more than it does you.
no matter how much you understand why he must act like that, it still stung just a tincy, tiny bit.
ron needs you alone. When he finds you he’s wrapping his arms around you immediately. I don’t think he’d be the best with expressing his emotions sometimes, so he’d mutter apologies into your ear, holding you close so you can’t look back and make eye contact with him.
eye contact would make him nervous- plus why does he kinda feel choked up?!
nah but seriously, Ron would beat himself up for having to act like that around you. He hates it. When he meets you you’ll 1000% see more of an emotional side to what the army does (obviously) so it’s upsetting for him when he can’t freely express himself in front of you.
Bill Guarnere:
“What’d I do?!”
“I think you upset her, Bill…”
“Ahhh, shit…” Bill is DUMBFOUNDED. he has quite a brash sense of humour, especially with his buddies. So when he maybe takes a joke too far in front of them all about you he doesn’t click straight away why you’ve left the table.
like you’d move to sit with some of your other buddies and he’d probably come over with a sigh, sitting down next to you. Lmao I feel like you’d just give him the cold shoulder??
he’s a head strong guy, right, but I think even he’d be a little bit puzzled on what to do. Just watches you in confusion whilst you completely blank him before removing himself from the situation.
probs gives you time and space to cool off before one of his buddies tells him he should get you some flowers or something.
“I ain’t doin’ tha’!”
turns up 30 mins later with a bunch of flowers and lots of hugs and kisses.
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AITA for being a ....homewrecker? (🏝 for later)
I'm not sure that's the right word, but whatever. Basically, I (FtM) met this guy (cis M, we'll call him M) over a year ago and we hit it off pretty quick. It was under extremely unusual circumstances, but for the sake of anonymity, I'll be vague and just say: it was 3 AM, Denny's, T.E Lawrence was involved. Now, I'm pretty wary of most guys who go to my school, given I'm trans and unfit to defend myself for various would-break-anonymity reasons, but M is just the best and is incredibly sweet. Days are easier when he's around, even if it's just through a Discord call playing video games. I started harboring feelings for him pretty much immediately, but didn't plan on acting on them for two reasons:
1) I've yet to be in an actual committed relationship (nobody's wanted to stick around, or we both realized quickly we weren't dating material) and I'm terrified of fucking anything up. 2) ....M has a girlfriend. A super long-term one, at that. Like, they met when they were kids, he's been romancing her for ages, they're going to get married and both openly agree they'd be shells of people without each other. Soulmate shit. She's awesome. She's the sweetest, too. Very thoughtful, and soft-spoken, and so so smart. So, no, I didn't plan on doing anything about my feelings. I'm not the type to hide who I am, so I wasn't going to hide anything, but I certainly wasn't going to DO anything either. That's not my place.
Until, one school break, M comes to me and admits he has feelings. And he's wrecked about it. Tells me I'm the only other person he's really had this for, because it's always been his girlfriend. He's a mess. I thought we communicated pretty well, and we'd both made it clear that nothing was going to happen unless Girlfriend knew about it and approved, because she comes first above all else. (I was the one to say this before him, and he was relieved that I understood.) She is priority. She will always be priority, and I totally get that. I'm just some guy, you know? But the conversation ended with me telling him he should probably let her know about this, regardless of how scary that was, because he's an incredibly touchy-feely guy and if I was her I'd like if this was on my radar. New player: M's best friend. very by the book christian guy. Not at all stuck up, but he abstains from worldly pleasures or something like that! He's cool, we're cool.
Except after break, M's best friend makes a few confusing comments, and suddenly, there's now never been a time when just me and M have hung out since. Girlfriend hasn't acted any differently and is still incredibly warm and wonderful, so I'm pretty sure she still doesn't know. I'm a very giving person and like to shower my friends in gifts, so I was undeterred in giving them both valentine's gifts I had bought them months in advance (extra hand wringing on my part.) Girlfriend was ecstatic, loved her gift, and M loved his too. But then he left to go Cry??? Because he hadn't gotten her anything (I'm the only one with a min $ job). I'm not sure where I stand with him or with either of them, and i'm just so confused. I'm 🤷♂️ about poly, but with the way they were raised (see M's best friend for reference), their feelings are more muddy about it. I want to talk to M, but being alone in the same room is impossible. I don't know if M has been intentionally making sure we're never alone together, I don't know if Girlfriend knows, or what M wants, what Girlfriend would want or even what I want, because I don't know what's on the table. I don't even know if we're in the same restaurant. Girlfriend is going to find out. M is way too touchy feely even with "supervision". (Granted, he is with everyone, I'm pretty sure I'm just the only person who lets him get away with it.) At this rate, somethings going to give, and i'm honestly just waiting for it to happen now. 🤷♂️
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ok but an ask on my rp blog got me thinking. what would stede and ed think the other's biggest flaws are? I think there's a tendency in fandom to sort of "soulmate" them, which makes sense. who wants to see our two beloved guys fight like a realistic couple? (I mean obviously there's still plenty of Big Dramatic Fights in fanfic, but like, outside of that).
here's some preliminary thoughts (I'm not super attached to these hcs so feel free to fight me lol): for stede, I think he wouldn't like ed's tendency to give up the second things start being difficult for him. I imagine ed is gonna be working on this one in retirement, now that he's not doing the thing he's gotten so good at anymore, but he's not perfect and breaking that habit will probably take work. TO BE CLEAR this isn't a "haHa eD's sO adHd hE cAn'T sTiCk tO aNytHiNg hArhaR" thing, this is more about how ed's never had the option to fail until now. his whole life has been succeed-or-die, so failure would reasonably scare him. stede would definitely push him to keep trying past that initial "oh crap oh shit I suck dogshit at this and could never possibly be good" phase everyone goes through when learning something new.
as for what ed thinks stede's biggest flaw is... fuck this is hard. ok, like, let's list stede's flaws. stede can be brazen and rude and bitchy, but never to ed, and often for ed, so ed would love that. stede has self-esteem issues. ed can probably relate to that and it wouldn't bother him if stede needed some extra re-assurance because ed needs it too. stede can be selfish/have trouble understanding others' wants and needs. so far we've never seen him have any trouble at all not being selfish with ed. on a longer timescale I bet it'll happen, but I don't feel super confident definitively saying that's it.
I don't like leaving posts unfinished but this isn't an essay I'm writing for school and I've thought about it for long enough now that I don't think I'm coming up with an answer anytime soon, so hit me with your thoughts!
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Losers Together
A/n: Hey guys! I haven’t wrote a tk fic in so long so bear with me please! Huskerdust has my soul literally.)
It had been a normal day in the hotel for everyone,except for Husk.
He had been standing behind the counter long in thought staring into space.
Everyone in the hotel knew about Husks deal with Alastor. They knew not to bring it up to either of them because it would make husk mad and grumpier than he already was.
The only person who could ask questions was Angel. Husk trusted Angel with everything, perhaps it was from the close bond they had with each other….. I mean to be fair Angel was the first person in hell to ever seen him cry which is reasonable because they were now dating.Husk was trying to avoid thinking about what happened to him with Alastor a while ago but he couldn’t help himself. The more he thought about it the angrier he got. For the first time in a while he started thinking and reflecting on his actions and how fucked up he was mentally. He felt tears in his eyes but blinked them away laying his head on the counter. He started to think about Angel. He couldn’t wrap his finger around why Angel liked him or even…..noticed him? He was a grumpy old cat after all, why would someone as cool as Angel want him? He sunk into to counter eventually falling asleep.
Angel eventually got home from work, today was a good day for him because Val didn’t go too far in the studio and he got off work earlier than usual. Angel was excited to see his grumpy cat lover so they could hang out, usually they never have time to hang out in the day because of Angels work schedule but thankfully today was different.
He walked up to the bar noticing Husk purring as he slept with his head on the counter.
Angel moved next to him and rubbed his ears, most of the time when Husk sleeps at the bar he’s had a bad day so Angel knew something was up.
He stayed there until Husk eventually woke up to Angel softly petting his head. “What the…..Angel? You’re back already?” His voice was raspy and deep from just waking up.
Angel smiled at him but noticed the fur by his eyelids were a bit damp hinting he was crying a bit. “Hey Husky how about we go to my room so you can get some sleep, okay?”
Husk smiled at the offer but wasn’t super tired anymore.
“I’m not that tired anymore but we can still go to your room if you want”He took a sip from his drink then throws away the bottle.
They get to Angels room and decided to watch a movie.
Angel was laying on Husk’s chest as they watched on of Angels favorite comedy movies. He looks up to Husk seeing a sour expression on his face. He pauses the movie and looks up to him. “Hey we can change the movie if you don’t like it baby, I don’t mind” Angel smiles at him softly “are you ok?” He kisses Husk’s cheek looking at him with admiration. Husk looks down at him still wondering how he got such an amazing soul in this dipshit called hell. “Yes Angel I’m fine” He mumbles softly still not acting like he was enjoying their time together.
Angel frowned, “Is it Alastor again?”
Husk ashamedly looked down. “I mean kinda? I dunno I’m just-“ He sighs looking an angel holding his chin. “I just don’t know why you stick with me all the time….im not a good person and I’m not worth your time”
Angel basically gasped. It felt like Angels heart just exploded in millions of peices. If anything Husk doesn’t deserve him. He sat up and looked at Husks solemn expression.
“Babe honestly what the fuck are you talking about?”
Husk was caught off guard and stared at him with confusion “I mean-“ Angel covered his mouth and hugged him. “You deserve the world, if I could give that to you I would.”
Husk hugged him back. He still wasn’t used to getting all that affection and admiration but he didn’t exactly hate it.
They cuddled while Angel continued spilling compliments to Husk u til he was a blushing mess.
“We’re both losers together remember?” Angel smiled at husk as he nodded. Angel was messing with Husk fur eventually brushing up against his sides.
Husk jolted and made a weird expression, he hoped Angel hadn’t noticed but it was too late. Angel smiled at him. “Dang I forgot you were so ticklish that even a tiny brush against your side makes you squirm~”
Husk blushes and grabbed Angels hand tiredly. “Don’t even think about it”
“Too late~ ‘sides you need a good laugh after today”
Soon enough Angel grabbed Husk paws and places them above his head gently tracing his fingers on his sides waiting for a reaction.
Husk didn’t was to succumb so easily and was fighting back the urge to laugh. To be honest Husk never hated when Angel would tickle him but he would never admit that to ANYONE even himself..
“Babyyyyy come onnnn it would be sooo much easier and fun if you would just let loose!” Angel giggled as he watched husk struggling not to laugh as his body twitched with every move angels fingers made.
Husk eventually let go and started laughing, his laugh started with minor chuckles but eventually got louder.
“There’s my smiley baby~” Angels fingers started getting faster and softer as he went to Husk’s ribs and soon enough his wings opened up from all the adrenaline. Angel gave husk a mischievous look.
Husk looked at him panicking while he was laughing still from the tingly sensations
“DOHAHANT YOHAHAU FUAHACKING DAHARE!”
Angel the stared tracing on his wings while leaving a set of hands on his sides still tickling.
Angel thought Husk laugh couldn’t get louder, lord he was wrong.
Husk was laughing really hard but he was also purring in between laughter. Angels whole face lit up
“Oh my god! You’re enjoying this!”
Husk blushes really hard and eventually his laughter becomes wheezes. Angels took that as a sign to stop, he let go of his paw and sat down smiling at him.
Husk was still in a fit of giggles on the floor laughing at the funny situation he got himself in.
“Sooooo you like being tickled husky?”
Husk looked at Angel still out of breath with a faint blush.
“Fuahak off….”
Angel looked at him with a grin “it’s okay I don’t judge baby” Angle rubbed Husks belly removing the ghost tickles. He started kissing husks face all over and hugging him.
“Losers together?” Angel smiles and lets go of the hug.
“Loser together” Husk pulled Angel into a kiss, afterwards they decided to head to sleep ending the evening with cuddles and a few slight tickles from Angel to Husk every few minutes. He didn’t mind though, he loved Angel so so much.
#sfw tickle community#tickle content#tickle thoughts#huskerdust#leehusk#lerangel#hasbin hotel#hasbinhoteltickle
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