#but i also can’t watch it on my own so that one’s kinda on hold but it could use some combing through
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ arcane goes gardening <3 • hcs/scenarios !
ˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n: hello :)) this is so me coded it’s scary LMAO but i had to since i also enjoy gardening <3 hopefully this is something i can write about more cause omg i can’t get enough of this
ˋ°•*⁀➷ extra info: suggestive moments while intoxicated, cnc touching, no gender specific reader, a whole lot of flirting ;)
jinx
would be such a lady and always light you up. it’s her favorite thing honestly, she usually carries a lighter around you now because of it. you found out she started smoking cause you found her box un covered on her desk, not that she had a problem with you seeing it of course, but more of just “hey you kinda wouldn’t expect that from me!”. but you did, which is the funniest part.
making her way down the stairs as the sound of metal pieces clank together, she turned her head to see you standing there by her chair. as jinx made her way down the last few steps she greeted you with a kiss, a passionate one at that. she noticed one of your hands was holding the half finished joint, beautifully wrapped with purple rolling paper.
she looked back at you with an innocent face. “could ya blame me? i even made some for you too darlin’” she said softly, moving the box and pulling the few untouched ones behind her books. “i couldn’t keep it alll to myself”
this ended up with you guys seshing every evening, especially on nights where it’s foggy. less likely to get caught since you’ve got vi and caitlyn to worry about. they can’t let the council know you two have “drugs” around enforcers.
because of that fact though, she picked up baking and learned to make infused pastries! you came back to her place as the scent of trees and cookies followed immediately. it took you a lot of power to not steal one while jinx was icing them <3
i feel like this ties to her growing in the undercity but when she was younger with silco he taught her how to roll. as bad as that sounds..i would say she learned by watching more than him actually teaching her. she would take papers and filters here and there and just practice all the time. making comments about how the colors of the paper were pretty every time he got a new pack.
ugh she’s so a good kisser when stoned it’s un real. you’ve told her about it once and she laughed at you, but you were serious. “i think maybe YOU were a little too high, i kiss you like that all the time!”. she would protest every time until one night both of you got extremely touchy, and one thing led to another. safe to say, you were not too high <3
viktor
my man absolutely loves weed. even attempted (and successfully managed) to grow his own. knowing viktor, lets be honest, he’s gotta have some secret rooms or spaces to do his own shit. like he genuinely lives in the lab how could he resist. so, one late night he told you to come by, which is pretty rare for him since he really is a workaholic. by the time you got there viktor had everything set up, pretty lights everywhere, he looked handsome, and it was just the two of you<3
time goes by and both of you are sitting near a window, he pulls out a small book and gives it to you. as you examine the cool old leather, he opens the book with his fingertips, to the pages on the inside carved out. it would hold a lighter and 3 joints perfectly wrapped in pink rolling paper.
viktor smirked at you, “i thought you’d get a kick out of the pink, dítě (baby)”. he motioned for you to take one as he grabbed the lighter out the book. as you pressed the paper against your lips, the crack of the lighter followed as you took the first hit . or two, or three.
you passed it to him not long after, his gaze fixed on your face and your eyes as you became more and more intoxicated. as he took a few pulls himself he put it out on the windowsill. both of you sitting there relaxed as ever, in the most vulnerable position.
since then, he would leave you joints in the pocket of your jackets. always with a little note on the side. he would also throw in pieces of candy with it too incase you craved something sweet.
one night you came into the lab after taking an edible jayce and jinx gave you. they of course didn’t mention they were infused, but your first instinct was to find viktor before it really hit you. he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek wrapping his hand around your waist. you then explain to him why you’re really there and he lets out a low giggle. “they really played you huh?” he followed with as his hand slid up your side. his cold hands made it even worse to ignore the feeling. skin to skin, he wasn’t joking when he said he was into it.
usually when you’re stoned and all up on him, he takes such advantage of it in the best way possible. his hands are almost always touching you, teasing and making you feel good without overwhelming you. sometimes you don’t even notice hickeys on your body until you’re fully sober. of course when you went to ask viktor about it he tries to play it off, but the blush on his cheeks and the smile he can’t hide say otherwise<3
silco
a guy who favors cigars but weed just for you. i feel like his hands are shakey sometimes now so he has trouble rolling, especially all those years of teaching jinx he’s earned a break. hence why he surprised you one day with a bong. see through red glass and shaped like two cherries. he thought you wouldn’t mind it, especially since you’ve been talking about getting a new one.
at first you were nervous to open the box once he told you it was glass (..shocked he didn’t break it himself) but it was totally worth being careful cause it’s the coolest thing you’ve ever received. he even got you a cute lighter that matches.
during nights where he’s up and can’t sleep he’ll pull you over so cuddle and sesh together. having your back against his chest as the sound of his cigar popping and burning fills your ears. you would be using the bong here, practically hotboxing his office and laughing when people walk in to you both higher than the sky.
i feel like he would also have a special drawer dedicated to all his trees. and then have a special compartment for all your stuff <3 refilling things when you run out so you never go a moment without, it’s the father tendency in him.
i think his favorite saying is “you need a break, mon cherie” as he drags you into his office for a sesh. he never really cares if you have “one more thing to finish”, he doesn’t want you overworking yourself, that’s his job really!
if you both had to go somewhere around people (after seshing) he would totally just give you his clothes. next thing you know both of you are matching, you smell like him, and honestly you look great in his coat. he’s also definitely the type to check on you often incase you smoked a little too much and can’t handle it. “mon amor are you feeling alright?” “do you feel okay, love?” “is this too much for you, sweetie?”
sevika
she’s so mama ugh. nothing but the best from sevika honestly. she’s always prepared for you with anything you ask for. she always has her cigars and such but there’s a special part just for you.
since you’re with her almost all the time, you’ve grown to find comfort in the scent of cigars. even the clothes you wear end up smelling like it, but you don’t mind, all you think about is her. it took her some time to get used to you though, but what caught her the most is that you..weren’t afraid of her?
she hasn’t met many people that match her freak, so it was a big refresher when you came along. but her favorite moment will always be when she caught you smoking in her room. sevika’s huge frame leaned on the doorway as she watched the smoke leave your body. you put your arm out with a j in your hand and motioning her to come sit with you. immediately the door closed as sevika sat on the bed and pulled you into her lap.
“how often do you do this without me?” sevika questioned, looking down at your red hazy eyes. “high eyes have always been gorgeous, yours especially, sweetheart”. sevika thought of these moments as core memories, since she doesn’t usually have time alone with you.
when munchies kick in it’s wraps for you guys. kitchen dates are what mainly pull you two together. i feel like cooking is such a good love language and it doesn’t get talked about enough. (i saw someone point out the fact sevika is obviously an indian queen so that also is gonna apply here <3). she’s very much a fan of cooking dishes from her country and having you try each and every one of them.
totally the type to baby you when you’re bedrotting while high. definitely pulls you on top of her when sleeping to feel your warmth. or you both end up wrapped so tight in blankets you can’t move off eachother ;)). speaking of, in the winter time her room gets extremely cold so both of you guys end up making robes out of her blankets (take viktor styling jayce’s blanket for example<3). she hangs every one of them in her closet during the warmer weather <3
˚₊ · »-♡→ heyy ;)) i hope this fic was enjoyable <3 more of my content will have themes surrounding cannabis/smoking so that’s just a heads up ^_^ if you liked this please reblog & like! it would be very appreciated <3 - drew
#arcane#viktor arcane#sevika arcane#jinx arcane#arcane silco#arcane x y/n#arcane x reader#arcane fanfic#doa x arcane
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now that i’m actually on somewhat of a real break for the first time in a while and i’ve recently completed two of my most time consuming fanfics so… i must ask again
#i’ll actually elaborate on them in the tags this time#white baby 1 is kinda the most taxing… it’s already like 16k words#and i need to do a deep dive of the source material (and secondary source material)#but i also can’t watch it on my own so that one’s kinda on hold but it could use some combing through#white baby 2 has some great bones laid down but it’s kinda complicated#i’d need to come up with some original aspects which i hate in fanfic but are necessary for this plot#so it just requires some Thinking. it’s one of my faves tho#haven’t written a word of white baby 3 but it’s not that complex it’s kind of a one and done type of deal#secret fourth option..#so basically someone else has already said they’d write this fic. but i want to so bad#i haven’t been able to stop thinking abt it i have so many IDEASSSS#but also they said they’d write it sometime… so is it wrong#it would be cruel to steal that right. i can’t do that…#i don’t know. follow your heart in choosing your answer
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Exchange Part 5: Crave
~6k words, kinda brainless smut, mostly Jennie anal
It was so crowded tonight that it was almost impossible to breathe, let alone move. Since word spread that all four Blackpink members were going, it appeared that half the industry was keen on attending. Unfortunately for you, this made it nearly impossible to track down Jennie's whereabouts. You were on the verge of giving up when you felt someone's arms around you from behind.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
That accent was one you’d never have an issue recognizing. “Rosie!” you smiled, turning around to face her. “Where’s Jennie?”
“I thought she was with you!” she shouted over the blaring music. “Come with me, I can’t hear shit here!”
With that, you took her hand and followed her to a booth on the side. Without hesitation, the occupants stood up to offer their seats which you and Rosé accepted. “Stay,” Rosé instructed one of the men who was sitting on the side before she turned to face you. “So just to be clear, no blowjob from Jennie yet?” Rosé asked bluntly, making the guy sitting on the far side of the booth perk up.
“No, I was looking for where you two went.”
“Perfect, me first,” Rosé pushed you back against the cushions and began tying up her hair. She pulled out her phone and tossed it to the guy sitting in your booth. “Put your number in there, you’re my witness in case I need it,” she told him before turning her attention back to you and bending over your lap.
“Rosie what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” she laughed as she unbuckled your belt. “Do me a favor and pull the curtain, I don’t do free shows.”
“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested as blood began flowing between your legs. “Don’t each of you have your own rooms this time?”
“Nah, this is fine, there’s enough cover with the curtain up,” she shot down the suggestion as she freed your cock from your pants. “Plus I need my friend here to witness this just in case.”
The man waved at you with an awkward smile.
“Hey,” you nodded back at him as you got comfortable with Rosé’s hand around your shaft. “What the hell are you talking about Rosie?”
“Just a stupid game that you don’t have to worry about,” Rosé dismissed your question while stroking your cock to life before turning to the man. “Scoot over, you should also get to enjoy this.”
“Oh okay,” he stammered, sliding over in the booth so that he was sitting next to Rosé before placing her phone on the table. “What should I do?”
“Can you take your dick out for me?” Rosé asked innocently, her voice sweet as sugar, as if she was making a completely normal request. She watched the man fumble with his pants before lowering them and freeing his cock. “Is it okay if I touch you?”
“Y-Yes, absolutely!” the man gasped as Rosé wasted no time and grabbed his shaft.
“Just give me a warning when you’re about to finish, that’s all I ask,” Rosé whispered as her fingers toyed at the man’s cock. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah, of course,” he moaned as Rosé began gently stroking him.
“Good boy,” she smirked before turning to you again. “And as for you, no warning. Surprise me, hold my dirty mouth down on your cock and cum all over my tongue,” she moaned before letting a glob of her spit fall from her lips onto your tip.
“Whatever your heart desires Rosie,” you sighed as her mouth finally made contact with your cock. “Fuck that’s nice.”
“Mmmhmmm,” Rosé gagged as she worked your cock with her lips.
She bobbed her head up and down your cock a few times, making sure to thoroughly coat your shaft with her saliva, before pausing with her mouth held firmly on your tip. Then, she started stroking your shaft with her hand, gripping firmly and twisting her fingers slightly with each stroke.
“Fuck Rosie, yes,” you moaned, placing your hand on the back of her head and closing your eyes.
Your moans were her motivation and she squeezed just a bit harder with her fingers while using her mouth to suck on your tip. Her tongue began flicking at your frenulum, working its way to the head and swirling around it. Your cock was throbbing inside the warmth of Rosé’s mouth, ready to explode already.
Just not yet, you couldn’t do that to her. You shut your eyes tighter, mentally blocking out the blaring music, ignoring the sound of Rosé jerking off another man next to you, you let Rosé’s wet and warm mouth become the only sensation in your world. Then, right when she started pushing her lips further down your shaft, you felt this overwhelming urge to go deeper.
With that, Rosé began gagging on your cock as you pushed down on the back of her head, pressing her nose all the way down against your crotch. With your cock fully embedded in her neck, you started pumping your hips upwards. You opened your eyes to see Rosé’s body was fully tensed, a sight to behold truly.
The hand she once had on your cock was now placed firmly on your thigh, pressing into your skin, while her other hand was no longer stroking her guest, instead it was tightly holding onto the table, her knuckles burning white. At this point you weren’t entirely sure how Rosé was holding up, but she made no efforts to back away.
So with that, you went all out. Bringing your other hand to Rosé’s head as well, you started grunting involuntarily as you pushed your cock as hard and fast into her mouth as you could. You went on for two minutes straight, not stopping at all, giving her no break, until you felt you were about to finish. Two minutes of pure heaven, two minutes of face fucking Rosé’s mouth, that’s all you could manage.
As per her request, right when you felt your cock ready to blow, you pressed Rosé’s head as far down as you could. She was a good sport about it, desperately trying to jab at your tip with her tongue right until you began unloading, painting the inside of her mouth. You didn’t ease up until you felt the last of your cum enter her mouth, at which point you finally let go of her head.
Rosé immediately started coughing, spitting some of your cum out into her hand. “There’s so much,” she croaked, looking up at you with her eyes watery. Then, before you could say anything, she scooped it all back into her mouth, shutting her eyes before swallowing.
“You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned as she started wiping her eyes dry.
“Thank you,” she smirked before picking up her phone. “Fucks sake, you completely ruined my makeup already.”
“My bad,” you chuckled as you pulled your pants back up. “Guess I got excited. You still look beautiful though.”
“Yeah no shit? My throat is burning,” Rosé whined as she tried to wipe her smudged mascara off. “But thank you again, just do me one more favor.”
“Anything for you after that.”
“If you find Jennie, send her up to my room.”
“Sure,” you agreed. “Is everything alright?”
“Fucking perfect,” Rosé put down her phone and turned to you with the brightest smile imaginable. “We had a little bet over you, and I just won.”
“A bet? I feel used,” you feigned annoyance. “How could you do such a thing?”
“You feel used? Excuse me?” Rosé burst out laughing. “What about my poor throat?”
“You have a point,” you laughed before inhaling sharply as Rosé bent over and gave your sensitive tip a few final licks, sucking on any remaining cum. “Fucking hell, someone’s horny tonight. I’ll be seeing more of you later, I hope?”
“You have no idea how badly I’ve needed this night, and you also know where my room is, I’ll be up there for a bit with my new friend. You’re of course welcome to join me whenever you fancy,” Rosé leaned forward and kissed your cheek before standing up and holding her hand out for the man. “Come.”
The two of them left for the elevators, the man barely being able to hide his excitement as he skipped alongside Rosé, leaving you alone and looking for Jennie. It was a pleasant surprise when you found her within minutes despite how packed the club was tonight - you just had to follow the biggest crowd.
There she was, on her knees wearing nothing but some skimpy panties in the middle of a circle of men, shoving her pussy against some guy’s face while half the crowd jerked off. As soon as she saw you, her face lit up and she ran over towards you, ignoring the whines of the men who just lost their entertainment.
“I found you!” she slurred as she jumped onto you, pressing her bare tits against your face.
“You did, good job,” you grabbed Jennie by her ass, holding her up. “Where’s the rest of your clothes?”
“I don’t know!” she replied cheerily, smiling at you as she leaned back. “Do you like my tits?”
She was drunk as hell, you thought to yourself as you carefully lowered her. “Yeah, they’re lovely,” you smiled back, giving them a quick squeeze before looking around for her clothes. “Oh,” you flinched as Jennie shoved a glass into your hand, spilling half of the contents onto your shirt.
“Drink with me!” she held her own glass up happily.
“Alright, but we’re taking a break after this one,” you replied, clinking your glass against hers and downing the half of the shot that didn’t make it onto your shirt. “Now give me that and come with me,” you took her glass from her and grabbed her hand, guiding her away from the crowd.
“One more drink,” she giggled, clearly enjoying herself a bit too much.
“We will, but first let’s find somewhere quieter, okay?” you bargained with her, pulling her hand.
“Why? I’m having fun!” she swatted away your hand playfully.
“We’ll have more fun still, but I need you to come with me first,” you urged her, wrapping your arm around her waist to stop her from falling.
She pouted her lips, forming a cute little frown as she looked up at you. “But everyones being so nice,” she whined.
“Yeah, because you have your fucking tits out Jennie, now come on,” you started to lose patience.
With a reluctant sigh, she leaned into you and latched onto your arm. “Fine, as long as you promise to fuck my ass.”
“Yeah, right, whatever you say.”
She let go of your arm and stopped moving. “I’m serious,” she glared at you, crossing her arms. “Tell me you’ll fuck my ass.”
“Okay fine, yes Jennie I will fuck your ass,” you sighed. “Now can we go?”
“Do you mean it?” she stared at you with doughy eyes, flipping back and forth between anger and plead.
“I do,” you reassured her as you took off your coat and wrapped it around her before taking her hand in yours again. “Now come on.”
“Why do you have to be so responsible,” Jennie mumbled as she followed you down some hallways into a private room.
“Because one of us has to be,” you chuckled, closing the door behind her and locking it. “And because I care about you,” you added as you walked over to a mirror in the room and took off your vest, taking a look at the state of your shirt.
“Did I do that?” Jennie cried as she noticed your shirt. “Let me fix it.”
“It’s fine Jennie, it’s just a shirt,” you tried to stop her but she was having none of it.
“Stop it!” she whined, wrestling your shirt off.
Once she got it off you - which you only allowed because she was about to tear it - she tossed it aside and pressed her mouth against your skin, sucking on your chest. Her lips were warm and soft, roaming your body freely.
“Jennie,” you tried getting her attention but she was on a mission to rub her tongue over every square inch of your body at this point.
“Oh yeah, I gotta do this before Rosie,” she slurred her words as she dropped down to her knees. “I need you to cum in my mouth.”
“Rosie already got you beat there,” you informed her, but she didn’t care at all, ignoring you while yanking down your pants. “Jennie, how about you just rest for a bit, we’ll do this later.”
“No,” she slurred, face full of determination as she lowered your underwear as well, her gaze fixed on your cock. “Let me make it up to you for ruining your shirt.”
“You seriously do not have to do anything right now, really.”
“Why aren’t you hard?” she pouted as she looked up at you. “Do you hate me?”
“What? No, of course not,” you groaned, accepting the fact that Jennie was going to be difficult until you gave her what she wanted. “Alright, come here,” you stepped out of your pants and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and motioning for Jennie to take her place between your legs as you stroked yourself slowly.
She smiled brightly before crawling across the room and planting her mouth firmly on your cock. It felt nice, there was no denying that, but you could tell she was struggling. She sucked on your cock for a couple of minutes in silence, moving slowly, breathing deeply against your skin, failing to keep a tight seal with her lips. Then suddenly she stopped - she leaned back and bent over, taking deep breaths.
“Jennie? You good?” you gently rubbed her back, leaning down to take a look at her.
“Yeah I’m…” she paused to take off the coat you wrapped around her earlier, struggling until you helped her. Once it fell to the floor, you could see she was sweating, and her face lacked energy. “...I’m good.”
“Come here,” you picked her up from her armpits and sat her down on the bed next to you. “Sit tight for just a second, I’ll be right back.”
She nodded, confirming at least she was conscious, but she was really not in great shape. You quickly walked across the room and filled a glass of water, bringing it back to her. “Drink,” you held the glass up to her lips for her as she took a few small sips. “Do you feel nauseous?”
“No,” she mumbled before pushing your hand away and bending over your lap again.
“Whoa there Jennie, not yet,” you picked her back up, scared she was about to throw up. “You need to rest for a bit.”
“I’m fine, please I need to suck your cock,” she whined, trying to fight your grip. “Or else Rosie will win.”
“Jennie, babe, Rosie already won,” you informed her gently. “Finish drinking this.”
She looked so incredibly distraught as she accepted the glass, chugging the water in one go before handing it back to you. Her gaze dropped to the floor, and you could see a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “I really want you to fuck my ass,” she murmured, still looking down, a hint of vulnerability in her voice. “It feels so good.”
“We’ll get to that, I promise,” you reassured her, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “But first I need to make sure you’re fine, and you need to rest.”
Jennie slid off the bed and onto her knees, turning around and bending over the side of the bed, her eyes glistening with a mix of frustration and pleading. “I don’t want to rest,” she insisted firmly, looking up at you. “Please, just fuck my ass, I promise I’m fine. It’s all I can think about.”
“Jennie…”
“Just for a bit? Please?” she whined, shaking her ass side to side as she begged you with her eyes, her voice full of longing. “I really want your big dick in my ass.”
Seeing her like this made it impossible to deny her, not that you really wanted to, your cock was throbbing at the idea of it by this point. “Alright fine,” you finally gave in. With Jennie literally begging for you to fuck her ass, who could blame you?
Her face lit up and she got more comfortable, sticking her ass up higher, arching her back and pressing her elbows into the bed. “Finally, you can go as hard as you want.”
As you lined up behind her, yanking her panties off her body, you slowly eased your tip into her asshole as she spread her cheeks with both hands for you. She was so fucking tight, especially since the only lube was from the bit of Jennie’s saliva still on your shaft. It was almost unbearable how snug her asshole’s grip was on your cock. You barely got two thrusts in before Jennie interrupted.
“No! I need you to really give it to me,” she moaned, looking back over her shoulder. “Fucking destroy my asshole.”
Just a few shots of alcohol and Jennie turned into an absolute freak, but you weren’t going to complain. In fact, you found yourself smirking as your next couple of thrusts were significantly harder, hopefully to her liking. You were spreading her asshole wide with each thrust, working her body as she became increasingly vocal, each pump eliciting a mix of harsh moans and screams from the tight girl.
“Oh fuck, I’ve missed this so much! I needed this,” she cried out, shoving her face into the mattress. “Keep going, don’t stop!”
Not that you were going to, actually you had absolutely no plans of stopping at this point. Her asshole felt so fucking good. The tight, warm squeeze, massaging your cock with each pump - you’ve missed this almost as much as she did.
“Harder, right there!” she begged, her voice rising as your cock found the right spots. Each push drew more squeals of pleasure from her lips. “Please, fuck!”
It was becoming too much for you. Her enthusiastic moans were infectious, giving you strength that you didn’t know you had, each time your cock slammed into her asshole you could feel a surge of invigoration coursing through her entire body.
“Please, more! Give me more!” she screamed out, clenching her fists hard as she surrendered to the sensations.
At this point you couldn’t physically go any harder. Jennie’s ass cheeks were rippling with every thrust, her entire body being shoved into the bed without any remorse. She screamed, moaned, made all sorts of noises, and you just kept going - kept jamming your cock up her tight ass. It felt fucking divine.
“So fucking tight,” you grunted, pressing deep down on her hips with your hands, squishing her soft body beneath you.
Your cock was burning up with pleasure. It felt almost too good. Each and every thrust up Jennie’s ass felt better and better for you as her tight body began molding to your cock. Jennie’s asshole was perfect. With how hard you were jamming yourself into her, you could even feel your balls swinging up, slapping against her dripping pussy.
The strength in your body was failing, going this hard for this long was exhausting, yet somehow you were still pumping into her asshole. So fucking tight. Your fingers were even starting to hurt with how hard they were pressing into her body, but you didn’t care. Your cock was ready to blow. Her asshole was too much, you couldn’t hold on any longer. The thought of pulling out and painting Jennie’s sweat-soaked back with your cum was appealing, but the tight grip her asshole had on your shaft erased that idea from your head.
With a final few pumps, your cock erupted inside her, spewing your cum right into her asshole. You filled her up, still pumping away as your white mess began leaking slightly with each thrust. Jennie had gone mute, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of your cum filling her up. She just took it, she took all of your cum right up the ass, holding still for you, coaxing it out of you. As you eased up, letting the final few spurts of cum exit your body, Jennie let out a long, satisfied sigh, her body relaxing, her asshole loosening up against your cock just enough for you to slowly pull it out.
“Wow,” you muttered, on your knees behind her, admiring the fountain of cum spilling out of Jennie’s asshole right now. “That was amazing.”
“Fucking amazing,” Jennie echoed, reaching a hand behind her to gently rub your cum around her asshole. “Holy fuck I’m going to be feeling this tomorrow.”
“You are such a fucking slut, have I ever told you that?” you chuckled as you got up to your feet.
“Yeah, but I’m your dirty little slut,” she moaned as she turned around, sitting with her back against the edge of the bed. “Fucking hell that sobered me up quick,” she added before opening her mouth wide for you.
Just as she wanted, you slipped your cock into her mouth, holding it steady as she slurped away, cleaning you off.
“By the way, Rosie told me to send you to her room.”
Jennie took a final few licks of your cock before releasing it with a pop, looking up at you. “Oh right, the stupid bet,” she sighed. “You really fucked that one up.”
“How’s it my fault you were busy sitting on some random dude’s face and flashing your tits to the whole club?”
“I was fucking horny,” Jennie scoffed. “And that was absolutely because of you.”
“Is that right? You get horny when I cum on your face?”
“I’ll bite your dick off.”
“And then who are you going to beg for when you need your asshole fucked?”
“Fuck you,” she spat before starting to get off her knees.
“Not yet,” you pushed her back down to her knees and grabbed her hair. With your other hand, you grabbed the base of your cock and pushed it forward towards her mouth. “You can get up when I tell you.”
She did just as you commanded - after shooting you a dirty look of course - licking up your cock, bobbing her lips up and down slightly. What she probably wasn’t ready for was when you yanked her hair, shoving your cock deeper into her mouth as it stiffened up again. “That’s right,” you teased, taking a firmer grip with your hand and pushing your cock even deeper. “Open that throat up for me,” you whispered, giving her cheek a light slap with your other hand.
Jennie, to the best of her ability, tried to open up wider. Your cock was embedded pretty deep in her mouth, but instead of pushing that final little bit, you pulled back completely, leaving Jennie desperately gasping for air, coughing and spitting, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.
“You’re not done yet,” you grabbed your cock and slapped it against her cheek, giving her just a second to spit the excess saliva out before you shoved it back into her mouth. “Open your fucking throat,” you ordered her, this time forcing your cock until it was fully embedded down her throat, the back of her head being pressed against the side of the bed.
The sound of her gagging was beautiful, something you had grown to appreciate, especially since you knew how much she loved gagging on your cock. You let go of her hair and leaned forward even more, supporting your upper body with both arms on the bed, and began pumping your hips slightly, making sure to keep your entire length in her mouth as you pushed against her jaw.
Her warm saliva was dripping out of her lips and onto your balls as they pressed hard against her chin, your cock probing the back of her neck while she gagged. You relished in the warmth of her throat for a bit longer before pulling back and releasing your cock, resting your shaft against her face.
“Fuck you,” Jennie cried out, gasping and panting, letting her spit flow freely down her chest. “The fuck are you going so hard for?”
“Did you not hear yourself just a few minutes ago?” you taunted her, rubbing your cock against her forehead.
“That was for my asshole, not my neck,” she snapped back, turning her face away from your cock.
“And that’s next, don’t worry,” you smirked before picking her up and tossing her onto the bed. “But this time, I want to see your face.”
“Fuck you,” Jennie repeated, but there it was, that glint of desire, the true feelings Jennie had as soon as she heard you were going to fuck her ass again - she couldn’t hide them.
“Cry about it all you want, I don’t give a fuck,” you snarled as you reached for her ankles, yanking her body to the edge of the bed before lifting her legs up and placing them on your shoulders. “Just lay there you dirty little slut, we both know you’ve been dreaming of this.”
No witty or sassy response this time, instead Jennie just glared at you, at least she tried to, but her face couldn’t hide how much she was enjoying this as soon as she felt your tip prodding her entrance again. She was just as addicted as you were, but she was too ashamed to admit it.
It didn’t matter. What did matter was how Jennie’s asshole opened up for your cock. At this point, her body was a perfect fit, adapted to taking your cock again and again. You eased forward slowly, leaning in and pressing her legs forward as your cock slowly entered Jennie’s asshole once again.
“Ah,” Jennie let out a soft moan, scrunching her face up as she adjusted to the tightness. “It’s so fucking big.”
“You’re a good little slut,” you whispered, encouraging her as you gave a few half pumps into her ass. There was such a stark contrast from the roughness from earlier, now it felt like there was far more passion being shared between you two.
“Your good little slut,” Jennie whispered back - it was endearing in a way. “Fuck that little asshole as much as you want, it’s all yours.”
“I know it is,” you grunted, leaning forward and slowly pushing your cock in and out of her body. You could feel your cock twitching, it felt so good, as you watched Jennie’s expressions change with each thrust. There was no urgency, no rush, you got to really take it slow and enjoy the tight massage her asshole was giving your cock, pressing down hard on every individual nerve, opening up beautifully for you.
Jennie, now with her eyes shut, brought one hand between her legs and began making circles with her fingers, rubbing her clit to the same tempo as your thrusts. She kept going, playing with herself, moaning softly, her pussy leaking as she touched herself. Then, as her back started to arch up, she slipped two fingers into her pussy, inserting them in tandem, synchronized with how your cock pushed into her asshole.
“I’m going to fucking cum,” she mumbled, her mouth shooting open, eyes squeezing tighter.
With that view before your eyes, you bent forward, hips still pumping slowly, and grabbed both of her tits with your hands, leaning closer to her face before whispering into her ear. “Then do it, cum for me, my little slut.” She started fingering herself faster, and now it was your turn to match her pace. You began shoving your cock harder inside her, enjoying how her asshole was getting tighter and tighter by the second. Her body was building up to climax, and you could feel it through her asshole. After giving her nipples a sharp pinch, forcing a sharp squeal from her lips, you reached your hand up towards her face and grabbed her before whispering into her ear again. “Come on, let it happen, fucking cum for me.”
“I am!” she cried out, her body writhing softly as if the pleasure was too much. “I’m fucking… fuck…”
Coherency didn’t matter at this point. She was right there, so close, and with a final few pumps of her asshole she yanked her fingers out of her pussy and began rubbing her clit vigorously, squirting onto your stomach.
“There it is,” you teased, picking up the pace of your thrusts as you felt your own orgasm rapidly approaching. “Dirty fucking slut, cumming all over me.”
“I am… your dirty slut…” she gasped, body going limp on the bed, her hand sliding up her chest, softly squeezing her tits.
Her pussy, glistening and soaked, looked fucking amazing right now, so unbelievably fuckable, but you were completely committed to her asshole. You reached forward with your hand, playing with her folds softly as you pumped away, your cock getting closer and closer. Her asshole was still squeezing your cock hard, but it was starting to loosen up as she relaxed, especially now that you were playing with her pussy as well. It only took you about a minute or so before you were ready to cum again thanks to Jennie’s tight asshole.
This time, even though your body desperately wanted to fill her asshole again, you settled on another plan. With your final few pumps, priming your cock until it was just one final pump away from busting, you pulled out and bent forward, grabbing Jennie’s hair and yanking it towards you with one hand. With your other hand, you grabbed your cock and began stroking it as hard as you could.
Within a couple of seconds, you began unloading onto Jennie’s face. Spurt after spurt, you made sure each one landed on her. She had her eyes shut tight as you plastered her cheeks, nose, forehead, and chin, coating every part of her face with your cum. Even as your cock stopped launching cum, you pulled her face closer and pressed your tip against her forehead, letting the rest trickle down her face.
Once you felt like you were done, you slipped your cock into her mouth one more time, having her lips squeeze out any cum you had left as you pulled back. Then, all that was left was for you to enjoy the view of Jennie’s face completely coated in your cum.
“It’s a nice look,” you chuckled as Jennie slowly opened her eyes, wiping them clean so that she could see. “Don’t wipe too much off, I’m walking you to Rosie’s room like this.”
“You’re the fucking worst,” she whined as a smile formed on her lips.
“I know,” you sighed, collapsing onto the bed next to Jennie. “Give me a minute, get dressed and we’ll go up.”
“Dressed in what?” Jennie laughed, falling onto her back next to you.
“Good point,” you turned to your side to face her. “I wasn’t kidding, it really is a nice look.”
“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes, turning to face the roof in an attempt to keep your cum on her face. “Am I really walking through the club like this?”
“Be grateful I’m not making you crawl,” you teased, reaching over and cupping a tit in your hands, toying with her nipple. “Maybe I should, make sure everyone knows you’re my toy.”
“Please don’t,” Jennie whispered, as if she was actually a piece of your property who would do anything you told her to do. “Everyone’s already going to be looking since I lost my clothes.”
“Here,” you got off the bed and picked your shirt up off the ground, tossing it to her. “You’re not getting my pants though, so put your panties back on.”
“Thank you,” Jennie smiled, lifting herself off the bed before suddenly groaning and falling back down. “Fucking hell, it still feels like your dick is in my ass.”
“Take a minute, we’ll head up to Rosie when you’re ready,” you reassured her as you got dressed. You picked up her panties and walked over to her, taking a seat next to her on the bed and flipping her onto her stomach. Gently, you rubbed her asshole for her. “Does that feel better?”
“Barely,” she moaned into the mattress. “Is it bleeding?”
“No,” you replied before inserting the tip of your finger into her.“Dickhead,” Jennie squealed, slapping your arm. “Alright let’s go, I’ll manage.”
---
A/N:
Probably not my best work, but I just had to let some random horny into a fic. Funny enough this was supposed to be a pretty plot heavy Jisoo chapter, but somehow it turned into pure PwP. Oh well, expect the next chapter to be heavy on the Jisoo plot (probably with some other member smut too, whatever happens in Rosie's room is still to come).
I'm running short of time for my break, but I promise I've still been working hard on my fics! I'd like to release a few more in the upcoming weeks, and I'm expecting my next post to be Kazuha. I also have recently thought of some one-shot ideas, so I might just randomly drop something that isn't part of one of my current projects. Stay tuned!
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You asked for some smut suggestions for Logan, and I got one:
So like…I mean…Logan might be on the short side, but he’s still big! I mean, like,,,those hands 🫣 It would be nice to see a fic to do with Logan and a little manhandling. but not like in a BDSM way, more like a “I am very strong, and here’s a little reminder” type way. Might seem kinda silly but I’d enjoy a fic like that lol.
NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB!Reader Ask and you shall receive!! I've spent like the last four days working on this and atp I can't looks at it anymore lol. I'm not super happy with how the beginning is written, but I still think it's alright enough to post lol. It's a lot more tell than show compared to most of my other fics, and I was halfway tempted to reformat it into headcannons, but I didn't feel like it. Anyway, hope you like the way I included the manhandling lol! Hope it turned out okay :) Also, might or might not be tall logan. I'll leave it up to yall to assume, I'm just short af so there's not a single person in marvel who wouldn't have to look down at me lmao.
Edit:FUCK I FORGOT THE READ MORE! TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Seriously, you will be blocked. Masterbation, lil bit of a scent kink. Sexual frustration. Manhandling. Jealous Logan. Creampie. Logan calls you "sunshine" and pretty and shit. I'll add more if I can think of any.
You had a problem. You’ve had a problem. And it really didn’t seem like it was getting any better. It didn’t help the fact that it was incredibly embarrassing, either.
You couldn’t get off. It’s not like you ever struggled with it before, but lately, it felt like you were fighting a losing battle. At first, you didn’t realize why. Maybe it was because you moved into the X-Mansion. Nerves because you’re living somewhere new, right? So you change it up a little. You got comfortable, had a glass of wine or two, and picked up a raunchy book. Yet every time you slipped your hand between your thighs… Running circles around your own clit, trying your best to finger yourself to your finish, you just could never quite hit that peak. It was safe to say you were beyond frustrated.
Lucky for you, most people didn’t notice. You try your best not to be too uptight or mean, but there are just some things that you can’t quite hide from certain people.
Logan’s noticed that something is up with you. You can tell he has, seeing the looks on his face, nose scrunched up in a way he’s catching into something that he just can't quite place. You’re assuming it’s your own pheromones, but hey, as long as he doesn’t realize what it is you’ll be fine, right?
Maybe not.
Eventually, you finally realized why you were having so much trouble getting off. All it took was one training session with Wolverine, and you knew immediately. You weren’t sparring or anything like that, hell, you knew before you even hit the danger room floor. Logan was in a bit of a mood today, although not as grumpy as he can be- and he’s trying to be patient with you. You can tell. But you’re having trouble focusing today- and you have been for a while. He can tell you’re not at 100% just by the way you hold yourself, and spends about 5 minutes watching as you struggle to reset the Danger room panel before he’s finally fed up with it.
“Jesus fuck. Here, let me do it.” Logan grabs you by the waist, pulling you to his chest with one arm as the other reaches around you to reset the panel. It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive before, but the close contact? The smell of his aftershave and the sound of his voice growling in your ear?
oh.
Oh.
You were having trouble getting off because you had a thing for Logan.
You’re practically stunned when he pulls away, standing there with a flushed face and something rather embarrassing pooling in your underwear for the first time in a while. You had to quickly excuse yourself before you ran the risk of him catching onto anything coming from you. He’s a little confused for a second, but you can hear the sound of his low chuckle as you scramble away.
First thing you do? Go to the store.
It's not a random errand. At least, not entirely. You had meant to go out with Storm to grocery shop later this afternoon, but you told her you could really use some time out of the house by yourself, which she completely understood. You had the list and everything, it was only a coincidence that you passed by the cologne section on your way to pick up some toothpaste. The sight made you stop for a minute, the gears grinding in your skull. You spent just a few minutes curiously sampling the bottles until you found one that smelled a bit familiar… Should you? No, that's a bit strange. But really, what was the harm, right? I mean, who would know?
So you bought it. You felt a bit embarrassed afterward, knowing what you bought it for, and ended up letting it sit in the drawer of your side table for a good while. Until another desperate attempt at fucking your own brains out, that is.
You were sweaty and uncomfortable in your bed, sleep shirt sticking to your skin as you struggled to pump your fingers in and out of your tight cunt. It’s been a while, and it shows. You couldn’t even get your favorite dildo to fit inside of you, only adding to your frustration. Touching your clit hardly helped much, leaving you as unsatisfied as ever. Eventually, you give up, lying there as you sigh to yourself. You turn over in your bed in a huff, halfway temped scream your lungs out into the pillow you bury your face in. Instead, you let out something that sounds more like a whisper than a yell, letting the air in your lungs deflate as you let your feelings out. You roll over onto your side when you’re done, halfway tempted to be done with it entirely and go back to bed when you catch sight of the nightstand drawer, slightly ajar. The amber bottle of liquid stares right at you.
You open the drawer some more, picking up the bottle and looking at it as you wonder if you’re actually going to do this. But you’re ridiculously horny, and tired, and you know you’re gonna have trouble falling asleep in the state you’re in- so you end up spraying the smallest amount on your pillow.
It’s…nice. The pillow is warm from where you had been laying on it, and despite how strong men’s cologne could be, this one isn’t quite so striking. At least, not in the amount that you used. You relax back into your bed, pressing your face into the pillow and laying there for a moment. You start thinking about Logan… His calloused hands running across your skin. How his lips and tongue would feel against your own, trailing down your body to your breast. Your hand trails down to your clit as you imagine it as his own. You imagine him behind you, pressing you to the bed as he growls into your ear. You think about what his happy trail would feel like against you. What his cock would look like, feel like, pressing into you. Your legs twitch and shake as you see stars underneath your eyelids, the scent of Logan hitting all the right parts in your head and going straight to your cunt.
Holy shit.
Your orgasm lasts what feels like forever. Your legs are still shaking as you whimper from oversensitivity and pull your hand away, panting as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t cum that hard since… ever. Maybe the cologne was worth it, after all.
You felt really good the morning after. You found yourself humming in the shower, more energized at breakfast and morning drills. No one had said anything, but you knew there were a few who were relieved to see you back to your usual self. If anything, the only person you noticed acting very differently around you was Logan. He was more tense than normal. He scowled a lot, spending less time in your presence. You’d strike up a conversation that would only last a few minutes before he would make an excuse and leave. It made you a little disappointed. But you knew him and knew he had good and bad days, so you brushed it off at first. But a week, two weeks- almost a month went by, and still no change. You felt scorned almost, silently rejected by the guy you had finally realized you were practically in love with, and to be honest, the only man who could get you off just by thinking about him- and boy, did you get off while thinking about him.
You’ve almost resigned yourself to the fact that Logan wasn’t interested when he corners you one morning. He’s leaning up against the wall of the hallway, waiting for you when you step out of your room. It makes you jump a little, closing your door quickly behind you, knowing damn well you hadn’t washed your sheets after fucking yourself to the moon and back last night and fully not wanting the smell to hit his nose. All Logan does is narrow his eyes. Shit.
“Who is he.” He asks you. The question completely derails your train of thought. And you furrow your brow, confused. What was that about?
“Who is he? Your guy?” He asks again, but it does little to clear up your confusion. You’re halfway wondering if he’s being serious at this point, stepping away from your door as you cross your arms.
“What?” You ask. Logan huffs when you respond to him, cocking his head at you in a way that's more sarcastic than curious. The way he’s looking at you is doing some things that you don’t think you’d like to admit, eyes narrow and scrutinizing as you struggle to keep eye contact with him.
“What do you mean? What guy?” You repeat back to him, starting to get a little frustrated. He snorts, rolling his eyes as his scowl lingers. He steps closer, looking down at you from less than a foot away with that angry stare.
“Don’t play stupid with me, sunshine. I can smell him on you.” You ignore the way the nickname makes you shiver a little bit, too busy shrinking into yourself when you process the extent of his words. Smell. He could smell someone on you. Something. Oh god, this was embarrassing.
“Oh! That- It’s not what you're thinking!” You say, face flushed red. You’re flustered beyond belief, doing your best to convince him to leave it be, and it’s not going so well for you.
“Sure it’s not.” Logan huffs. He starts to take steps forward, closing in on your personal space.
“It’s not. I can promise you that.” You’re anxiously fiddling with your fingers now, taking a step back for every step he takes. He looked predatory, unlike any time you’ve seen him before. You haven’t even seen him like this in the danger room, even less so on the battlefield.
“Just tell me who he is.” Logan is adamant about it, his scowl beginning to turn into a frown. Your back hits your door, kickstarting your heart in surprise. You hadn’t realized he had backed you up so far.
“I can’t!” You say, in the beginning stages of becoming absolutely exasperated, and already incredibly embarrassed.
“Why not!?” Logan Snaps, stopping just inches away from you. You cover your heated face, pressing your palms into your eyes until you see shapes, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die right then and there.
“Would you just leave it!” You shout, but Logan’s having none of it.
“No, I won't!” Logan grabs your wrists and moves them away from your face, holding them in front of your chest with a grip lighter than you might have thought. You groan in utter frustration and mortification, looking him dead in the eyes as your angry mouth starts speaking before your reasonable brain can fully catch up.
“Jesus Christ Logan! Do you expect me to just whip out the silicone and show you?!” Your eyes widen as soon as you say it, slamming your mouth shut as you finally catch up with yourself. Logan is staring at you in absolute shock, jaw almost slack at the confession.
“...What?” He asks, slowly. You wince, looking off to the side before deciding it's a bit too late to get the cat back into the bag.
“Its… Cologne. What you’re smelling. I use it to uh, help me…” You make a sort of gesture with your head, praying that you won’t actually have to spell it out for him. He’s still in shock as he looks at you, hands frozen with his fingers wrapped around your wrists. He clears his throat when he comes to, an unreadable expression on his face as he slowly steps forward again, close enough to press his forehead against your own as he presses you against your door.
“You’re that pent up, you need cologne to help you get off?” He asks, and you don’t know what to say, cat catching your tongue as he leans forward. The side of his face brushes against your cheek as he leans down a little, the action making your skin prickle. One of his hands releases a wrist to slide up and across the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side as he takes a big sniff of your skin. He’s practically nuzzling you, angling his head so that he can smell the scent on the back of your head where you rest against your pillow at night.
He’d noticed it before, at night when most of his anger had worn off, sometime after he started to pick up the scent on you. The undertones, the top notes. But now with you this close, he can tell that it wasn’t another man he was smelling. No. It was just you. Your scent being drowned out by the smell of something that he could finally tell smelled rather suspiciously like his very own aftershave.
“...Don’t tell me that you wanted it to smell like me.” He asks after a moment. You almost flinch at the sound of his deep rumble, turning your red face away from him. You swallow, feeling like you are absolutely burning up as you nod- right as Logan catches the unmistakable scent of arousal.
“Fuck”
You’re sure the sound was more animal than man as he cups your cheek rather aggressively, pressing his lips against your own in a rather desperate kiss. It takes you a second to return it, eyes wide as you process just what was happening. It didn't take long for you to melt into his desperate kisses though, every nip and brush of his teeth just like you imagined it would be. He presses his knee in between your thighs, finally releasing your other wrist to grab ahold of your hip instead. You accidentally let out a whine when he grinds your hips against him, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to explode. He curses again at the sound, both hands sliding around you to lift you against the door.
You practically squeak in surprise, the noise caught by Logan’s mouth on your own one more time before he trails down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You gasp as he presses against you, his hips beginning to grind against your own. You’re having a hard time thinking, biting your lip as you do your best to stifle your sounds.
“Logan-ah, can we… head inside, please?” He only grunts in response, shifting your weight as you both begin to fumble for the doorknob. He gets it before you do, hardly stumbling as the door behind you swings open. He’s kissing you again before the door is even closed, kicking it behind him. As preoccupied as you are, you at least have the common sense to reach over and try to lock the door before he carries you over to the bed.
He plops you down onto the mattress before he crawls over you, eyes half-lidded and just as lustful as your own. He pushes you down as you try to sit up. His breathing a little hard, pupils dilated to a size you had never seen.
“Now I know why you closed the door so fast,” Logan smirks, having picked up the lingering scent of your sex on the sheets right away. You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off. His tongue snakes into your mouth, and you find that you can’t really remember what you were going to say anyway. He kisses you again and again, distracting you as he reaches above your head. He pulls away when he has the pillow in hand, and you know just by the look on his face that he knows exactly what he is holding.
“Hate to break it to you, but this doesn’t exactly compare to the real thing.” He snarks. It makes you laugh, and for the first time in a while, you see a genuine smile spread across his face.
“Yeah.” You respond, taking the pillow from his hands and tossing it to a far-off corner. “I know.” You could revel in his smile for as long as he’d let you. Logan’s kisses start off sweeter this time, at least for a moment they did. They begin to become more and more rough as hands start to wander and clothes start to come off. His shirt is first to go, your hands running up and down the hair that spans his torso. Logan is quick to remove your shirt and bra in one go, one very small step away from cutting off your clothes entirely. He gives himself a minute to appreciate your breasts, pinching and teasing you by sliding a hand up the middle of your sternum, the back of his hand brushing the side of a tit as he watches you squirm underneath him, arching your back to push your chest out, practically begging him to finally touch you.
“Patience is a virtue, Sunshine.” Logan says, causing you to scoff. You glare at him a little and all it does is make him chuckle a bit.
“Don’t be mean.” You whine. He laughs a bit harder as he finally lowers himself to your chest. He keeps his eyes locked on your own as he brushes the blunt ends of his teeth across the soft skin, but he’s never been the most patient man. It doesn't take him long to give in to you, sucking on each breast individually, massaging the soft skin of the opposite as he does so.
“Careful.” He growls when your own hands begin to wander, touching him over the fabric of his jeans. He releases your nipple with a pop, bearing his teeth as he presses his face back into your neck. You don't pay much mind to that, rather enjoying the grunts and sounds he makes as you slowly stroke his covered hardness from base to tip. You can't imagine how restrained he must be feeling. You can’t help but smirk a little as your hands drift up and down, before oh So slowly unbuckling his belt. Logan is agitated, practically bucking his hips into your hands to get you to just get over with it.
“Patience is a virtue.” You quote, only earning a restraining hold on your hands once again.
“Fuck that.” Logan growls. He holds you by your wrists, pushing them above your head as he uses his free hand to remove his belt and frantically unbuckle his pants. You'd be complaining if it weren't for the view of his straining cock, slapping against his abdomen as he pulls his pants down.
You don't get to stare for too long before he flips you on your stomach like you weigh nothing. He lets your wrists go to pull down your shorts and underwear, a sticky string of your slick thinning as he pulls the items down.
“Fuck. You're this wet from just that?” Logan asks you, taking two fingers and sliding them through your lips from behind, spreading his fingers to let himself see the mess you've made of yourself already.
“...shut up.” You mumble, more focused on the feeling of those very same fingers sliding back and forth across your cunt, the tips just barely brushing against your clit every time. Logan chuckles, sliding one hand under your lower stomach to lift your hips with ease. Your hips buck as he slides a thick finger inside of you without warning, slowly sinking down to his knuckle with ease.
“Might not even need foreplay at this rate.” Logan rumbles behind you, eyes set squarely on the sight of your pretty pussy spread wide open for him. You can only moan in response as he pulls it back out again, plunging a second finger into you this time. Your hands clutch the sheets as Logan begins to finger fuck you to his content, curling those thick digits to hit that one spot juuust right. You try not to buck or squirm too bad, halfway wondering if this is all just some wet dream.
“Logan-” You call out for him through your moans. He only hums in reply, preoccupied at the moment.
“I- god- I need your cock, please.” You're not sure if it was the phrase or the begging, but it makes Logan groan. You feel embarrassingly empty as he pulls his fingers out. You hear the sound of him stroking his hard cock with your slick, groaning and humming to himself before he picks you up. He leans over you, adjusting to you your hands and knees as you finally feel that thick, thick cock grinding against you. You gasp at the way it feels, feeling Logan smirk against your back.
“Having second thoughts?” The tone of his voice is teasing, but you know there's more than that behind the words. You vehemently shake your head, grinding back against him a little as you protest. Logan swears under his breath, holding onto your hips to keep them still as he sits up.
Both of you groan each time the head of his cock catches on your clit, Logan thrusting through your lips again and again as he lubes himself with the wetness you provide for him. You gasp when his head catches on your slot, notching just right.
Logan pushes into you so slowly, and you feel like he's thicker than you ever imagined he would be. You're impatient, desperate. You push back onto him in an attempt to take him in more, but his hands on your hips stop you.
“Believe me sweetheart, you don't want that yet.” Logan tells you, straining himself with how tight you feel around him. He soothingly rubs his thumbs against your skin, pressing into you until you have him completely, balls deep inside you.
“Please, please. Logan, Please, I need you to move.” Your begging starts to sound like nonsense to your own ears, but it makes Logan gasp all the same, his cock twitching from where it's buried inside of you. You practically cry in relief when he finally begins to thrust Inside of you.
His hip smack against your ass with every thrust, the sound of the slap mixed with the sounds of your love and the headboard hitting the wall a lewd and filthy symphony. Even better than your own moans were Logan's himself. Each and every groan and growl above you gave you a whole new array of things to imagine while fucking yourself- if you ever had to do so again.
You whine and whimper with every strong thrust, Logan slow and forceful with every movement. It felt like he wanted your insides to memorize exactly how his cock feels inside of you, and you doubt you'd ever mind it. He filled you perfectly, hitting every sweet spot inside of you.
Your arms are shaking. Struggling to hold yourself up with each and every rock of the bed. You barely start to buckle when He catches hold of you, an arm snacking under your chest and pulling you towards him. His hand spans your collarbone as he holds your back against his chest, holding you up as he continues to fuck you like no one before. You're closing in on that sweet release when his hips stutter a moment. His teeth dig into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you there close to him without breaking the skin.
“Are… are you -ah- close?” You ask. Logan only responds with a short and simple - “Fuck!” - before he pulls out of you.
You don't have time to whine about the emptiness before he's flipping you around, kissing you again as he pushes your back to the bed rather aggressively. He's quick to sling your legs over his arms, folding you in half as he sides fully into you in a single thrust. He's hitting you so much deeper in this position, chest pressed against your own as his thrusts continue to stutter.
Logan kisses you again, a bit differently than the last ones have been. These kisses are tender, sweet. A stark difference between his needy, frantic thrusts. There's a line of spit between you two as he pulls away, half-lidded eyes meeting your own. You’re closing in on your peak, and you can tell he is too. The pleasure is too much for you to handle at once, and you can't help but squeeze your eyes shut.
“Look at me.” Logan grabs a hold of your chin, your eyes flying open as he thumbs at your lip and holds your head still. “Don't look away.” His hips stutter some more, the both of you groaning as you clench around him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you finally cum around his cock. The fluttering of your walls are more than enough to send Logan over the edge, his cum warming your insides in thick spurts. Logan buries his face into your neck, groaning as you ride out both of your orgasms.
The two of you lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Logan lets go of your sore legs, massaging your thighs as he presses sweet, comforting kisses to your cheek and temple. His hands wander up and down your sides, doing his best to soothe your aches without you even having to ask. -not that he would ever admit to having a soft side. Who would believe you if you told them that The Wolverine was a cuddler after sex anyway?
“Why didn't you just tell me?” You ask after a long moment. Logan hums, his Face tucked into the crook of your neck.
“Tell you what?”
“That you were jealous.” Logan only snorts at that, playfully pinching your side.
“Jealous of what? Your cologne?” He returns. You slap him on the shoulder as he chuckles at you, unable to stop the playful smile on your face.
“You mean the cologne that you thought was a whole-ass guy?” Logan stops at that, instead choosing to cover your mouth with his palm as he tucks his head closer.
“You're a lot prettier when you're quiet. You know that?”
#Prepare yourselves this one is a biggin#x men#x men comics#x men headcannons#wolverine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan drabble#logan howlett#wolverine x men#wolverine smut#x men wolverine#wolverine x reader#smut#marvel smut#marvel fanfiction#marvel reader insert#x men reader#x men smut#marvel#deadpool and wolverine
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HOW JUNGKOOK WOULD TREAT HIS BIMBO GF 🍥
pairing: established relationship, bf!Jungkook x bimbo!fem!reader genre/tags: smut, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, piv, unprotected sex, an*l, oral (m receiving), t*tty f*cking, drooling, use of the word daddy (only once)
**old repost from my deleted blog (05/24/23)
- Having a drop dead gorgeous girlfriend was a given for Jungkook, he loved the fact that y’all were both smoking hot and turn heads everywhere you go
- The stark contrast between your appearances drove him insane
- His aesthetic was more dark and mystique, is also heavily tattooed while you always wore pink and pastels, having bare skin
- Is so enamored with the idea of you being the total opposite of him, he always feels like he’s corrupting your sweet innocence
- Kinda treats you like you’re his eye candy anywhere he goes, has you wrapped up on his arm like it’s a leash
- He’s been debating getting an actual leash for you since you constantly trip and fall whenever you’re out with him
- You were just so ditzy and clumsy… it was your character flaw yet Jungkook saw it as an endearing quality
- Also loved that you were an airhead, clingy, and always wanting his attention ;( makes the joy of him coming home to you all the more thrilling <33
- Always buying you pink and girly thingsss
- Whenever he sees something hello kitty or barbie related he instantly thinks of you and buys it
- CONSTANTLY wants to spoil you, omg this man would spend every dime he could on you just to make you happy
- He looooves taking you out shopping because that’s your favorite activity !!
- He splurged on you the other day, buying you any color of that Dior lip oil that you were obsessed with, it was worth it since he’d be the one taking it off your lips afterwards
- Jungkook enjoys watching you try on skimpy outfits for him, the shorter the skirt the better— don’t get him started on the way your hardened nipples peek out the fabric of your shirts…
- Likes to play dress up with you like you’re his personal doll
- He’ll put you in a pink lace slip dress one night and the next he’ll have you wear white see-through lingerie for him; that is only when you two are in private of course
- Frequently teaches you new things so you keep up to date with current news and other events, he knows you aren’t the brightest but you have a heart of gold and do your best to comprehend everything he tells you !
- When watching movies you often pause to ask questions about the film because you don’t get it
- Jungkook made you watch ‘Inception’ with him one time and it absolutely rotted your brain
- He enjoys explaining the movie to you in a babying way, dumbing it down for you to understand it as your mind is blown away by all the knowledge he drops on you
- Laughs at your inability to comprehend the plot and pats your head while teasing you
- “Awww, you poor little thing…can’t even understand the simple concept of a movie.”
- It really really really turns him on when you wear high heels, the higher the heels the higher the tent in his pants grew
- You wore the sexiest 6-inch stripper heels for him and he fucked you out completely while you had them on, he thinks he might have a heel fetish or something
- Absolutely adores your bright & bubbly personality !! Will praise you any time he hears you say something smart
- “Did you know that Sloths can hold their breath longer than Dolphins???” You would ask him randomly.
- “No I didn’t, but thanks for the fun fact babe. You sound so cute when you talk about things you’ve discovered.”
- “It was on the back of my Snapple cap, how cool is that?! See look!!”
- He will never not be impressed by your lack of awareness, you lived in your own little bubble and he wanted to shield you from all harm and scary things
- Is sooo completely obsessed with your body
- Your bouncy tits, your curvaceous hips, and your cute plump butt was the perfect sight to send the blood rushing to his cock
- Loves. To. Fuck. You. So. Dumb.
- Uses your hole like it’s a fleshlight and loves cumming inside you repeatedly
- Dumping all his cum into your little bimbo cunt was the only thing he needed in his life
- Often catches you drooling at him, when you do this he scoops it up with his finger and puts it back in your mouth
- His favorite part of sex with you is seeing your fucked out face
- The stare you give him while you deepthroat his cock was enough to make him combust
- “Look so pretty with my cock stuffed in your mouth, such a pretty little slut for me..”
- The way he would degrade you but praise you in the same breath confused you in many ways yet you enjoyed every minute of it
- Your makeup would be all smeared, mascara would be runny, the Dior lip gloss he bought you fully transferred to his cock now
- Can never choose between if he likes doggystyle or cowgirl more since both positions he gets to look at your assets with a nice view
- Lots of titty fucking, loves having your big round tits around his cock, making a mess all over your chest once you milk him clean
- He owns all your holes, he likes to use your tight little ass from time to time
- After lubing it up nice and gently, he would go to town on your ass just pounding into your fuck hole viciously
- “What a fucking whore you are, gonna keep fucking your tiny hole until I pump every last bit of my seed in you.”
- Turns him on so fucking much when you start babbling and unable to speak proper sentences
- You’d whimper and hiccup with frustration from the way his cock made you feel
- His love language will always be making you feel so low. So small compared to him that you don’t even feel worthy of his presence at times
- “Can’t stop drooling all over yourself? Already too dumb and fucked out to continue, hmm?? Oh never mind, you’re already dumb…just shut up and take daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are, you were made for taking cock anyway.”
#jungkook headcanons#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x female reader#jungkook fluff#bts smut#bts x reader#bts x fem!reader#jungkook scenarios#jungkook imagine#jungkook drabbles#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook imagines
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ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ
pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader
genre: smut <3
summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.
w.c: 3.3k
warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing
a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33
song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)
“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”
“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”
She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”
You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”
“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.
“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.
“Where are you going?”
Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”
The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.
-
“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.
San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.
Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”
Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.
You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.
“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.
He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.
Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.
“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.
You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”
Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”
“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”
“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”
One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.
As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.
“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,�� his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”
You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.
San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”
Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”
Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”
And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”
“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.
“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”
“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.
Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”
“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”
“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.
However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”
Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.
“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.
-
“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”
“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.
“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”
“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”
“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.
“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”
“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”
You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.
“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.
Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.
“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”
Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.
Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”
Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.
“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”
San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”
Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.
San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”
“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.
“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.
Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.
Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.
San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.
Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.
“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.
Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”
Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2023.
#cultofdionysusnet#cromernet#scheduled post#ateez#ateez smut#ateez oneshot#san ateez#choi san#san smut#ateez fanfiction#ateez x reader#wooyoung ateez#wooyoung smut#jung wooyoung#wooyoung x reader#san x reader
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op monster trio x fem!reader nsfw headcanons
EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors need to scram)
a/n: remember, these are hc’s and just my opinion!
don’t forget to like, reblog, and comment to support my work! mwah <3
“just enjoy this”
luffy:
very talkative and vocal during sex
always just says whats on his mind
“wow, you’re so wet for me already”
“you look so pretty when your face scrunches up like that”
“that feels good. go faster”
not shy at all about moaning and can get really loud sometimes
like there will definitely be noise complaints
kinda a pleasure dom, but can also get really needy sometimes
wants to make sure you feel just as good as he does
“does that feel good?”
“how’s this?”
“you like it when i do that?”
loves bringing food into the bedroom (obviously)
aphrodisiacs? yes
licking whipped cream, hot fudge, caramel, etc, off your body? yuh huh
and his stamina is HIGH
he also gets really excited about trying new things, and will try pretty much anything once if it’s something you’re into
one of his favorites is mirror sex
spreading you out on his fingers or his dick and making sure you watch yourself
he just wants you to see the beautiful view that he gets to see
plus then he gets double of you, and more you is always good
loves when you get vocal, so if you’re on the shyer side he will definitely work overtime so he gets to hear you
will make it a game to see how loud he can get you
he also speaks portuguese bc it makes sense and also i said so !!!!
sometimes his language setting accidentally switches to portuguese when he’s fucked out
“vou meter em você ate você gritar meu nome”
goes crazy when you say his name
even crazier when you get so cockdrunk that you start babbling nonsense
honestly he can’t help but laugh
like full on belly laughing like a maniac while he’s breaking your brain
but he just thinks you’re the cutest and he can’t contain himself
sometimes he’ll have a conversation with you while you’re in that state, acting like he can understand anything you’re saying
“feels good huh?”
you’ll whine out something indecipherable in response
“yeah i know!”
he’s always happy if you tell him what you want and how you’re feeling
because he just loves you so much and he wants you to enjoy it too
because he thinks you deserve the world
can also get pretty dominant/demanding sometimes without even realizing it, just because he’s so blunt
he’s just a man who knows what he wants and goes for it
if he’s especially needy, he gets a little more rough with you
holding your hair as he fucks your mouth, because your eyes look so pretty when you look up at him like that
or fucking you hard and fast to chase his own release, leaving bruises on your hips from how tightly he’s gripping them
even then, he’ll always do frequent check ins to make sure you’re still enjoying it
messy kisser
loves kissing and licking and nibbling all over your body
definitely leaves marks
he’s also not shy about PDA, (mostly because he does not understand the social construct of what is and is not appropriate to do in public), so he loves when he gets to see his love marks on you the next day
thinks u look rly pretty with his love all on you
he’s really good with his mouth
could eat you out for hours, and wont stop until your whole body is shaking
big fan of face sitting
definitely more of a tits guy
always smiling into your kisses, wether he’s sweetly kissing your lips, leaving a trail down your body, or teasing your clit
loves to make you squirm, so edging you is definitely fun for him
he likes seeing you be all needy for him, especially since he’s usually the needier one (can you blame him)
definitely also challenges himself to see how many times he can make you cum in one day, and keeps track of his records
really enjoys using his devil fruit powers on you too, and laughs in excitement when it makes your eyes roll back
always gets you both water and plenty of snacks afterwards, falling into a comfortable conversation or putting on your favorite movie
zoro:
you’re the only person he feels comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with, and he trusts you with his life
you are always his number one priority, no matter what, and that naturally carries over into your sex life
he’s extremely attentive to you, in and out of the bedroom
knows your body better than he knows his own
always knows exactly what you need and just how to make your eyes roll back
he’s a “just relax and let me take care of you” kind of guy, and all he cares about is making you feel good
after all, you always make him feel good, even without doing a single thing
but of course he soaks in anything and everything you graciously give him
he quietly feels undeserving of your love, so he’s really big on being praised
your sweet words only spur him on to make you cum even harder
usually more of a soft dom
but if you ask nicely, sometimes he’ll let you take care of him when you know he needs to just relax
he’s gentle with his strength and careful not to hurt you
likes to fuck you hard but slow, wanting it to last as long as possible
he lives to hear your pretty noises of overstimulation as he makes sure to hit the right spots with every agonizing thrust
your legs held over his shoulders so you can feel every inch of him
doesn’t pick up his pace, even when you’re trembling and trying to move your hips against his
“i’ve got you. just enjoy this”
not super talkative, but definitely gets more vocal the more comfortable he gets being intimate with you
lots of grunts and groans against your neck
sometimes an occasional moan or curse will slip out
when he does talk, it’s soft and low, whispered for only your ears to hear
his voice gets a little deeper when he’s like this, and it grounds you and shakes you to your core somehow at the same time
he loves kissing you, and pouring every feeling he can’t put into words onto your lips
rly likes watching your face to see every pretty little expression you make
likes seeing how good he’s making you feel
also really big on eye contact
wether he’s fingering you, eating you out, fucking you, you’re giving him head, whatever, he wants to look into your eyes and watch them as they get all glassy
“hey, look at me. keep your eyes open”
a little bit into dacryphilia , because it feels so intimate to him
making you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure that it brings you to tears, then kissing all your tears away as you fall apart for him
he’s also really good with his fingers because of how much dexterity he’s built up in his hands from all those years of swordsmanship training
the reason he also has insane stamina ^
if you get bratty with him he’ll get bratty back (he’s a part of the sassy man apocalypse)
sometimes if you’re being particularly bratty, or when he gets cocky after a really good training session, he can get a little more riled up into being more talkative and commanding
but he still never loses that softness, because to him you’re angel on earth, and his love and adoration for you is overflowing
“if you’re that needy, just ask for it. don’t need to make a fuss”
“that’s it, keep going”
“go ahead, you can let go for me”
“tell me what you want me to do and i’ll do it, but you have to use your words”
if he’s feeling really confident, he might pin you against his surface of choice while he ruts into you, licking into your mouth to savor your taste
^ he feels guilty at first for being rough with you, but any fears of him being selfish fly out the window when he hears you moan his name all desperate and hoarse and fucked out
“you like it when im rough like this, huh?”
“what was that, honey? you gotta speak up”
“i know you’ve got one more in you, baby, don’t hold out on me”
no matter what, he always makes sure you cum at least twice before he does
he’s not super into pda, but he secretly loves when you leave marks on him
especially when you scratch up his back or his chest
they feel like battle scars and make him feel all proud and shit
he’ll “discreetly” show them off walking around topless, but he’ll still glare at anyone if they make a comment about it
he also joins the pda train anytime he sees you talking to another man that isn’t a part of the crew
or any time he’s drunk off his ass ^^
thigh/ass guy
he loves feeling your body shutter and twitch from his touch
he doesn’t smile too often, but you sometimes get lucky enough to see it
he’ll hold your jaw up and smile lazily into your sweet kisses while he fucks you deep with his fingers
constantly longs to show his devotion to you, and takes his time to make sure you feel it
lots of sleepy and lazy sex
also shower/bath sex
he lives to hear your sweet sounds
he will not stand for it if you try to hide your pretty little noises from him
“c’mon, don’t do that. let me hear you”
“don’t get all shy on me now”
“there’s my girl”
he’ll always put a pillow under your hips
he likes to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible
he also just finds it really hot when you arch your back
he’ll fuck you so good that you genuinely cannot stand after he’s finished with you
then he’ll run you both a warm bath, hold you to his chest, and wash off your body and your hair as you both relax into the comfortable silence
sanji:
worships the ground you walk on (seriously considered starting a religion)
loves to be romantic and set the mood
cooking you both a nice intimate dinner, lighting candles, peppering rose petals, giving you massages, etc etc
but once you guys actually start getting intimate, he cannot WAIT to get his hands on you
but he still respects you and treats you like a fucking queen, because to him you are
not an exaggeration by any means either, he will build you a throne
he asks permission before kissing you
won’t touch you unless you give him permissiom
will do or say genuinely anything you ask him to, no questions asked
but will also pathetically rut his hips against your clothed cunt while you make out and cum in his pants if you allow it
he can get rock hard just at the sight of you
not even in a pervy way, it’s just that you’re sooo sexy and everything you do is like his siren song
definitely a sub
loves receiving, and feels blessed with every ounce of pleasure you grant him
but making you feel good gives him just as much pleasure, because he worships you after all
knowing he’s the one making you feel good really gets him going
he’ll worship your body for HOURS with no expectations to receive anything in return
he can get off untouched just by knowing he’s making you feel good
loves eating you out, and is extremely talkative
more than willing to be on his knees for you at any time
loves praising you (of course) and is always eager to encourage you
“you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen”
“you taste so sweet, mon amour”
“want you to cum so badly, sweetheart”
“please let me help you come undone my love”
he loves when you praise him too
however, he also goes crazy when you get a little mean
likes it when you use him for your own pleasure after a restless night or a frustrating mission
or when you edge him for hours as punishment for making a flirtatious comment towards another woman (atp he only does it to get this result)
he is also not beneath begging !
sucker for romance during sex too
loves holding your hand while he makes you see stars or while you let him use your mouth
kissing all over you while you both fall apart
babbling and whining against your lips about how much he loves you
loves when you mark him up, and will proudly show them off
practically gets heart eyes every time he looks at you, but his eyes are BULGING when he sees your perfect tits
loves sucking on them while you ride him
very cheesy and dramatic lines and pet names, but they all come straight from his heart and he means every single word
really likes it when you pull his hair
definitely whimpers and whines and moans your name like a prayer
says “thank you” when you let him cum because he’s so polite
probably has a breeding kink
definitely has low stamina at the beginning of your relationship and doesn’t last very long, but builds it up over time
still makes sure you’re more than fully satisfied even if he’s already finished
would let you tie him up, blindfold him, gag him, whatever you want, and he would enjoy the fuck out of every second
he would still complain and whine about not being able to touch/see/praise you a bit though
super passionate kisser
also always extremely sensitive, because it’s you
lots of cuddles and kisses and sweet words after the two of you are done until you fall asleep with your limbs tangled
asks are open!
#brairslair#brairs hc’s#one piece smut#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece luffy#one piece zoro#one piece sanji#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#vinsmoke sanji#luffy#luffy x reader#op luffy#luffy smut#luffy x y/n#monkey d. luffy smut#monkey d. luffy x reader#roronoa zoro smut#zoro smut#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#zoro#op zoro#zoro x you#zoro x y/n#sanji#sanji smut#sanji x reader#monster trio
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REPETITION / RARE LOVE
pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)
genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content
tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting
warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.
WHAT TO EXPECT
it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)
OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.
SEQUEL OUT NOW!
“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.
“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”
you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”
mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”
“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.
you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”
“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”
you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”
you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”
“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”
“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”
you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”
“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”
“i don't want an answer.”
“…”
"because i'm going to move on from him!"
"..."
“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”
“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”
“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.
—
yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”
you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”
“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”
“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”
yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”
you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”
“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”
“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”
you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.
“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”
“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.
“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”
you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”
“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”
“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”
jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”
you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”
he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”
—
“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”
you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”
“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”
you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”
five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.
he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.
“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”
“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”
“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”
you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”
time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”
“zuha, hi! did you—”
“yep, i got your lip gloss.”
you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”
mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”
kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”
“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”
“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”
“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”
“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”
“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”
mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”
“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”
you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”
“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.
“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”
“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”
mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”
you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”
“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.
“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”
kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”
jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”
“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.
swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—
you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”
he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”
you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”
you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”
“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”
“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”
“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”
you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”
the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.
as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”
mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”
“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”
he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”
“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”
he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”
—
an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.
the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.
big gyu: u look good
big gyu: kinda basic tho
you: yea i thought so too
you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.
candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.
however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.
you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”
you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.
“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”
you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”
“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”
jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”
you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”
“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”
“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.
big gyu: niceee thats hot
big gyu: u should get this dress
big gyu: pls
big gyu: pls
you: …girl why are u begging me
big gyu: because.
big gyu: you’re getting this dress right
you: no i’d die of overheating in it
big gyu: and it’d be worht it
you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...
you: wtv this one's rejected.
you: i still have another dress to try
you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.
“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”
you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”
“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”
“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”
mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”
“ugh, alright, give me five.”
in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.
“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”
you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”
“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”
“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”
his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”
you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.
“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”
jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.
“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”
“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”
you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”
he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.
as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.
entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.
you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.
you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”
“can i talk to you for a sec?”
you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”
“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”
“but, the others—”
“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”
out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.
you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”
you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”
“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”
you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.
you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”
you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”
sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”
you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.
the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.
sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.
—
the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.
you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.
his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.
“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”
you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”
mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”
you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”
mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”
“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”
he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”
“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”
she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”
you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.
“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"
“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”
he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”
you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”
“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”
“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”
“who’d be the father then?”
your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.
“did something happen between you two?”
“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”
mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”
you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”
“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”
“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.
you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”
after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.
“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”
“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”
“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”
“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”
“don’t be like that, y/n.”
“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”
mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)
“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”
“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”
“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”
mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"
“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”
he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”
you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”
“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”
“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”
he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”
you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”
“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”
“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”
“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”
“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”
“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”
“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.
mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”
you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”
—
“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”
“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”
hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”
the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?
hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”
hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”
“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”
he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”
you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”
“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.
“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”
hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”
“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”
“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”
you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.
he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”
you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”
ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.
it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.
that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.
but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.
“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”
“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”
he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.
“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.
“you’re right. routine is good for people.”
“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”
“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.
“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”
he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”
“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”
“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”
your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”
“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.
“do you ever think we should be more?”
mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”
“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”
it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.
if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.
“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.
you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”
mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”
“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”
“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”
it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.
“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”
this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”
“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”
you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”
“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”
mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.
you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)
he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”
“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.
“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.
as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.
his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.
so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”
you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.
he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.
“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.
“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.
he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."
—
mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.
it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.
he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.
it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.
the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.
space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”
mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.
“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”
“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.
maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”
jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”
“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.
“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.
the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.
or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—
you. you’re here.
almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.
when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.
mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.
he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.
“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”
mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.
“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.
you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.
“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”
jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.
but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”
the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.
that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.
you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.
“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.
you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.
you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”
he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”
you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”
“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.
“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”
when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.
mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”
but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.
“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”
“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.
you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.
but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”
when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”
and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.
but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.
you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.
“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.
“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”
“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.
jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”
“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”
“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”
“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”
you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.
suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.
your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.
you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.
he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”
you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”
you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.
his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”
mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”
of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.
so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.
“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.
that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.
you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”
ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.
back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”
“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”
“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”
“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”
you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”
“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.
“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”
you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”
mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”
you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”
with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”
you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”
suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.
you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”
—
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.
anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!
#mingyu x y/n#mingyu x you#mingyu x reader#mingyu svt#svt fics#svt x reader#jeonghan x reader#kim mingyu#kim mingyu x reader#mingyu fics#kim mingyu x y/n#kim mingyu seventeen#seventeen fics#seventeen imagine#mingyu imagines#mingyu fluff#mingyu smut#svt smut#svt fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst#mingyu angst#mingyu x you angst#kpop fic#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#mingyu. i love the man. pls.
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“MY GIRL” SATORU GOJO X BLACK!READER
summary: gojo is known for having talking stages with lots of people, which leads you to doubt that you’re not just another talking stage. but, after talking for a while, he finally wants you to be his. he’s willing to do whatever it is to prove you’re his and show you how he really feels.
includes: implied “situationship”, fem terms and pronouns used, player!gojo, lover girl!reader, confession, eventual smut, fluff, lots of praise, oral f! receiving, penetration, possessiveness, corruption kink if you squint
it’s no secret that saturo gets around. he’s had his fair share of entanglements, flings, and hookups. but, you were different.
when he had a crush on you, he found himself more nervous than usual. his brain couldn’t function properly- even worse than its natural state of aloofness. he’d blabber about you to everyone. namami, geto, kiyotaka, shoko, hell even his own student itadori— he’d talk about you to megumi nonstop for gods sake, and i promise you that boy was tired of hearing about you.
then, he finally got you. he finally got the courage to make advances on you. to his surprise, they were reciprocated. you two would flirt, stay in each other’s dorms, go on “links”, you both even get to the point of falling asleep on the phone and good morning texts.
and he actually treated you very well. he was sweet, showered you with compliments, and he didn’t even hide you from others. but, a part of you still had doubt. you were aware of his past and didn’t wanna look dumb. your friends would make little jokes about you being “delulu” and always pointing out how whipped you were, so you’d be more than embarrassed if he ended up playing with your feelings.
these were all the thoughts going through you head before you knocked on the man’s apartment door, coming to hang with him after he texted you and asked you to come chill with him.
you always said yes, of course. but then again, you always said yes. it’s almost pathetic how weak you are for him.
“hey gorgeous~” the door opens almost instantly and you’re greeted by a blue eyes with a bright smile. his hair is down and he’s in a tank top, exposing his surprisingly muscular arms. his sleeper build is one of the things that has you so whipped. you smile back at him and hug him, his arms going to squeeze your waist. after a few seconds you release yourself from his hold and make your way to his bed as if his place is practically yours.
he finds his way next to you and watches as you immediately go to scroll on your phone. however, he seems…off. usually, he’d be more touchy. or, he’d also be on his phone or be on the game. he’s just watching you this time, as if he’s contemplating something. you finally look at him, cocking your eyebrow.
“may i help you, sir?”
he laughs, almost as if he was embarrassed (which he kinda was— he didn’t notice he was staring). “nothing, just thinkin’.” you softly laugh in return, going back to your phone. “about what?” you mindlessly asks. he takes a second to pause, then you hear him take a deep breath.
“i want you to be my girlfriend.”
now, it’s your turn to pause. you’re stuck in place as your brain tries to process what he just said. gojo, “mr. bitches”, satoru just asked to cuff you. you have to be dreaming.
“what?” is all you can say. he sits up, and looks directly at you. “y/n, i wanna make you mine.” you struggle to make eye contact with him, at a loss for words. “i know we’ve been talking for some months and i just…i really really like you— a lot. i can’t stop thinking about you and i can’t see myself with anybody but you. i want you- fuck it, i need you in my life so bad. you’re everything i look for.”
your face heats up as he’s sitting there, confessing his feelings for you. you finally get the courage to speak. “i really like you too, satoru. and honestly, i been waiting for you to ask this for so long. i know it seems stupid, but i just… i don’t wanna see you with anybody else. and sometimes i just-” you cut yourself off, not wanting to ruin the moment. his face softens and he grabs your hands. “what? you can tell me anything, gorgeous, i swear.”
“…do you really mean this? i don’t wanna just be…i don’t how to say this… another one.” you finally let it out your chest, and he looks down at your hands. then, he lifts you up and has you straddling him on his lap as he makes direct eye contact with you. “baby, i swear there is nobody else i could want but you. i don’t care about those other hoes or anybody else, they got nothing on you..”
his eyes fall to your lips, and he takes another breath. “i love you, y/n, and i just wanna be able to call you my girl.” your heart is beating rapidly by now, and you wrap your arms around his neck. “i love you too, i’m yours.”
you both lean in and close the space between you two. your lips collide with his, slowly moving in rhythm with each other. his hands squeeze your thighs, then he holds your waist and begins to take control. he flips you over, and his lips quickly find their way to your neck. you let out a small whine as he sucks on the skin, eagerly making his mark on you. he kisses and bites all over “mine…all mine…” he breathes into your neck.
instinctively, your legs spread and he subconsciously grinds against you. this earns a moan escaping your lips, and he pulls away. “you want to?” he asks. you frantically nod, but this time he really wants to keep things romantic. you’re his girlfriend now, he wants to prioritize making you feel loved over wanting to get off. “you sure? i wanna hear you say it, love.” you look at him with needy eyes, ones that cause an erection to start to grow in his pants. “please.”
“say no more, baby.” he dives back into your lips, hands tugging at your bottoms. he pulls them down and plays with the hem of your underwear, still keeping a steady rhythm as he kisses you.
your hand goes to unzip his pants. as you try to pull them down, he stops you. usually, you’re first to go down on him, but he wants this time to be different. “let me take care of you, i got it.” he says with a sweet, loving smile on his face as he pulls away. then he slides his finger through your clothed slit, already feeling how wet you are. you hum as he teases you, getting you all worked up for him. his thumb slowly finds your clit. “that’s it baby, relax…” he rubs you through your underwear and you moan again, squirming under his touch. another reason you’re so whipped for him: he always knows how to make you feel good.
“toru..please…” you whine, looking down at his hands. “well can you look at me first, baby?” he teases, and you can hear the smirk on his face before you even look up at him. then, he slides his hand in your underwear and toys with your clit, sticky with your arousal. “mhm…good girl~” he cooes as you moan out for him. your eyes threaten to close as pleasure swirls all through your stomach, still aching for more. just as that feeling arises, he dips his ring finger into your pulsing hole and your eyes roll back.
satoru watches your every move as you writhe under him, adding another finger as your slicks begins to spill out and making you squirm even more. then, he pulls them out and brings them to his mouth. he licks them clean, watching in satisfaction as you look to him for more. without a word, he leans down to your soaking heat. all while keeping eye contact, he kisses your clit.
you gasp, and he takes no time sucking on the sensitive bud. “f-fuck~” you moan, gripping onto his hair with your hand. he hums as your freshly manicured nails dig into his scalp while he works you with his mouth. you sing out for him as he laps your pussy with his tongue, running it through your folds and dipping into your hole. “baby, i’m c-close…” you cry. he only moves his tongue faster, drawing harsh circles on your clit. finally, you let you on his tongue with a long, strung out moan. your legs shake and your grips tightens on your hair as you cum, him slowly sucking on your clit through your orgasm.
he lifts off with a pop! then kicks off his pants and boxers, his fully erect dick springing out as he climbs on top of you. he strokes himself, kissing your lips and giving you a taste of your own arousal. “you ready, princess?” he breathes out, and you hum in response, lifting up your legs.
he lines himself up with your entrance, and easily slides in due to your previous orgasm. you both moan in sync, him burying his face in your neck. he pumps into you at a slow pace, each thrust deeper than the one before. he finally bottoms out and your eyes roll back in ecstasy as you moan out in pure bliss.
“fuck baby, you tight as fuck…” he rasps as your walls clench him as he moves in and out of you. he kisses you, then looks into your eyes as he makes love to you. “my pretty baby, always so good for me.” his thrusts slowly begin to quicken and your mouth falls open. “yeah, you like that?”
you hum in response, turning your head and burying it into the pillow as your hand grips his arm. “fuck s- mmm- s’ good…” he smirks as he rolls his hips, fucking into you even deeper and reaching for the spot that’ll have you melting. you whine as he fucks you, sending pleasure all through your warmth to your legs and stomach. “i know baby, ah shit- you love this dick don’t you?” he says as he leans down to your ear. “mhm~” you respond instantly, slick dripping out of your cunt. “mhm…so fucking wet for me.”
“yeah.. who’s pussy is this? huh?” your walls clench from the question and you’re barely able to answer” “y- fuck! yours…it’s all yours~”
“yeah this my pussy, all mine.” his words send chills down your spine, putting you in a trance as your orgasm builds up in your stomach. then, he pulls out, immediately picking you up and placing you on his lap. he finds your entrance, and positions you above his dick. you slowly slide down all the way on him.
“fuuuuck, just like that…” he moans, feeling your soaked walls tightening around him again. you eagerly bounce on his dick, moaning loudly from how you can feel every inch of him. he then places his hands on your ass, setting a pace for you and guiding you. “cmon ride me baby, just like that..such a good girl for me, yeah?” you can only moan in response, drowning in pleasure as a familiar knot builds up inside you. “‘m gonna cum…” you cry out.
he snaps his hips up inside you, causing you to nearly scream as he repeatedly slams his dick info your g-spot. you moan out his name and a smile is plastered across this face. “go ahead, cum for me baby. cum all over this dick.” and you do just that, creaming all on him as you bury your head into his neck, moaning his name and several curses.
he turns you back over, still buried inside you as he begins plunging into you. his hand presses one of your legs against your chest as you cry and moan from the overstimulation. “fuck baby i love you…love you so much~” he moans as he chases his own high. finally, he lets out a loud moan as he pulls out, cumming all over your stomach.
you both catch your breath, and he manages to lift himself off you. after finding a towel and cleaning himself off, he crashes onto his bed and pulls you on top of him.
“i’m yours.” he says, sweetly kisses your forehead. he squeezes you tight as if you were gonna fly out of him arms, and you smile into his chest. “i love you, baby.”
“i love you too, toru.” and just like that, you were finally his.
@ rumisgf
#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x black reader#gojo x black reader smut#gojo smut#jjk satoru#jjk smut#nanami kento#jjk nanami#jjk x black reader#jjk x black y/n#black reader smut#getou suguru#satoru !!
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I read some funny headcanons de ontem pra hoje about characters reaction to their future kids travelling to the past to meet their past selves, and couldn't help but think about the JJK men's reactions lkkkkk.
How do you think they would react if their future kids with us travelled to see them (and specially us)?
Could you do their reactions? It's okay if you don't want to, I just wandered that it would be fun reading in your point of view 🥹🥹
Anyway- thanks for the Toge headcanons 😭🙏🏽
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔
Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta. Inumaki.
◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
He would stay silent for a few seconds as he looked closely at the small kids, a wide grin appeared on his face. “Oh~ Who do we have here?” He kneels to look at them with a proud look, “Heh, you’re my kids? I mean, you kinda do take after me, good-looking and all.” Then he looks at you, still with that wide, proud grin, saying, “We should get married and have babies as soon as possible!” out of impulse. But he does mean it deep inside.
◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
He’d be surprised at first but then he’d let out a gentle smile, warmth filling his heart at the sight, “These are our kids?” He urges his future kids to come to him with a soft wave of a hand and hold your hand with another to stand by his side as you two look at your kids together. “They’re the perfect combination of you and me. How adorable.” He’s definitely looking forward to raising them with you when the time comes.
◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
He looks at them in silence with a slightly confused look on his face. “Huh? The hell did these brats come from?” He looks at them running around and then towards him, pulling on his robe and jumping to his lap. “Hey, watch it.” He looks at you with a smug smile, “You seeing this? It’s our brats from the future,” he chuckles in amusement, letting the kids to whatever they want to him. They’re the only ones who have the pass to do so besides you.
◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
“What is this?” He looks at the small kids running towards him. He’ll let out a faint smile as he kneels to ask their name. He’d grab his kids’ hand, admiring how tiny their hand is compared to his. “I’m guessing you are my kids?” He makes sure, and then says to you, “We made such beautiful children together.” He’s already thinking about how he would raise them in the future.
◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
He’ll be so taken back, a bit shaky also. “This is our kids? My kids?” He asks you, his eyes looking at the kids in front of him, clinging onto his pants. He’ll sit down, placing the kids on his lap, already loving them. “They’re cute, I’ll tell you that.” He smiles, attention on them. “I’m sure they get their good looks from you, my dear.” He doesn’t want to let them go once it’s time to part ways, hiding a few tears on his sleeve.
◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
He’d scratch the back of his head in confusion, “Hm? My kids you say?” He looks down at the kids who look exactly like him. “Looks like we’ll be having our own kids, after all, darling. Be prepared.” He chuckles shortly before approaching the kids, “Hiya, there, kiddos.” He ruffles their hair. “We did a good job making them, heh.” He smiles proudly.
◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈
He’ll be so confused, like, where did these kids come from? And why do they look like him? He looks at the kids with deep thoughts. “My kids? With you?” He asks quietly, looking at the kids and then at you, a slightly surprised look appears on his face, “Oh...” He’d make an effort to interact with them, and he can’t help but let out a small smile, thinking that he does have a future with you.
◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
He’d be dumbfounded and speechless for a moment and would look back at you before speaking, “These kids are ours? Really? Man, I’m just too shocked to speak clearly right now. They’re adorable!” He’d smile at the kids and start playing around with them. “Can we take them home and show them to everyone?” He asks with a bright smile on his face. “They’re too cute to be left behind.”
◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀
“Oh, my...” He looks at the kids who are running towards him, hugging his legs. Once he found out they’re his kids from the future with you, he’d let out a blush and smile in delight, showing them to you, “Look, these are our future kids.” He’ll hold them gently as if he would break them, “I’m so happy. We’re going to be their parents in the future.” He just can’t wait to start a family with you.
◈ — 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 🍙
He stays silent for a while tugging your hand to grab your attention, “Tsuna Tsuna,” he points in the direction of the kids that are approaching you both. “Konbu.” He raises a hand to greet them as friendly as he could. Once he realizes they’re his kids from the future, he’ll be stunned, “Sujiko,” and look at you with a knowing look, “Shake.” He smiles in approval after interacting with them.
Anonnie, I hope I did your request justice 🥹
#ೋღ—物語.#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jjk x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk headcanons#jjk hcs#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jjk scenarios#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#itadori x reader#itadori yuji x reader#yuta x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader
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soooo like idk if u write angst. But from ur page i feel like u would be good at it. Maybe like a theo x slytherin!reader who like gets bullied by them and it’s kinda unrequited love and one day she gets entirely done with them and doesn’t leave her room for a while because something happened. Then classic theodore nott goes for a smoke seeing her alone in the courtyard or something and feels a little bad and they talk and he realizes how much of a dick him and his friends are because reader “is so done with all the shit” and plans to try and leave
bully theo nott x slytherin reader
angst
not exactly sure what to title this one but i hope it’s enjoyable, i don’t do angst much but it’s so much funnn
𓆙
while going to hogwarts seemed to have been most young wizards escape, you unfortunately didn’t have the luxury of seeing it that way. ever since you’ve started at hogwarts and were sorted into slytherin you haven’t had such an easy time. granted now that you’re a 6th year you have a few friends, however one thing stayed the same since you’ve started; you were constantly bullied by the most popular of the slytherins.
you genuinely didn’t understand what made them dislike you so much, you didn’t agree with their pureblood praises though you were a pureblood yourself. maybe it could’ve been the fact that you weren’t necessarily the richest, coming from a lower class wizarding bloodline nobody knew of your family and simply getting the money together for your school supplies was often a challenge.
you tried everything you could to drown out any bullying, trying your best not to let any of it effect you or your studies. unfortunately due to you also being a slytherin not even your common room was an escape for you.
walking out your dorm as quietly as possible you held a book tight to your chest tiptoeing down the stairs making your way to a secluded chair, you sat down in front of the low fire and read to yourself silently for a few minutes before hearing laughter echoing from down the hall muffled voices becoming clearer and clearer.
trying to ignore the voices you regrettably recognized you kept your head down and in your book, not even reading the words simply trying to keep your breath at an even pace. “mate is that y/n” said a muffled voice. not looking up you closed your eyes tightly really hoping to be left alone. you had hoped coming down at one in the morning would give your freedom, not anxiety.
before you could process it there were footsteps heading towards you and a flick on your forehead “are you that dumb that you can’t even read a book, i mean don’t know your eyes have to be open for that” mattheo laughed at his own joke elbowing theo who was egging him on chuckling himself. “don’t touch me.” you gritted through your teeth still sitting looking at both of the mocking boys.
you attempted to get up and rush off to your dorm but mattheo grabbed your arm “you didn’t answer my question, that’s soo rude” he mocked still gripping your left wrist. “let me go” you protested struggling to get your arm free as theodore watched snickering. “alright let her go i’m trying to smoke” theo huffed snatching the back of mattheos jacket and dragging him along.
a large breath you had no idea you were holding onto fell out of your mouth the second they were gone. you plopped right back down into the cold leather chair and silently sobbed. so many thoughts ran through your head about how differently you should’ve handled the situation, how you should’ve shoved him harder, maybe you should’ve screamed, maybe if you just knew how to stand up for yourself. maybe you were stupid?
everything these boys did effected you so much to the point you became a shell of the person you were. your grades weren’t the worst, but the more the boys would mock, the more they’d tell you how dumb you were that you were a lost cause, you unfortunately began to believe it even if you didn’t admit it to them directly. never giving them the satisfaction of seeing you break down, never letting them know how it effects you.
“i think you might need a jumpscare warning, next time don’t come to class if you wake up like that” draco mocked giving you a disgusted look the second you sat down on the end of the slytherin table. a small eruption of laughter fell from all of the boys and their little follower pansy parkinson. “you guys have no clue i swear this morning her eyes were so swollen she looked like she got stung by a bee” she snickered trying to gain the boys attention.
not wanting to deal with this today you got up and walked out of the great hall not looking back. you didn’t feel like you had the mental capacity to deal with them and so you made your way to the only place you knew you could breathe.
you made sure to watch out for any oncoming professors and for filtch, knowing you’re not supposed to be out on the astronomy tower at this time of day or year. the walk was as long as ever and luckily most of the halls were empty besides a few students making their way to the great hall.
finally reaching the million stairs you made your way up to the tower slowly walking up taking your time. you began to think about everything these people put you through, thinking about how much everything they do makes you hate yourself and this school more and more everyday.
not a day went by that you weren’t picked on at least once by one of them, this realization and sad reality made a stream of tears fall down your face as your legs walked up the stairs starring down onto the wooden steps.
just as you were beginning to reach the top of the steps you quietly sniffed smelling an odd odor. you couldn’t quite put your finger on what you were smelling but you continued till you were at the ledge of the astronomy tower sitting down. you sat looking out towards the clouds covering the sun and tried to control your breathing and stream of tears.
once your tears began to dry up you noticed a thick trail of smoke coming from the right of you. you looked behind you and there stood theodore nott. he walked over cautiously, and here you were coming face to face with someone you definitely did not want to see. “ah, y/n what brings you here” he spoke taking a drag of what appeared to be a cigarette. you didn’t know wether to answer or just leave but you spoke out cautiously “attempting to get away from you and your goons” you huffed turning back around to face the clouds.
“come on, you know i don’t bite” he chuckled and you just shook your head in annoyance looking back up at him, “you don’t bite yet you’ve bullied me for over six years makes perfect sense theodore” you rolled your eyes standing up to face him. “seriously.-“ he scoffed “you know i’m like the least brutal of them i don’t even touch you” he added taking another drag. it was almost as if he was mocking you even more without even realizing it.
“i don’t care if you think that just because you don’t fucking touch me that it makes it okay?? you watch your friends bully, touch, and harass me nearly everyday what about that makes you any less of an awful person than them.” you let it all out with more emotion that intended yet the small tears coming out were nothing but anger induced.
“listen y/n i didn’t think it affected you that bad we make fun of so many people” he shrugged scratching the back of his head not sure how to react to your outburst of emotions. “that’s your problem, you don’t ever realize that you’re bullying your own housemate. you and those fuckers haven’t left me alone since year one and for what? all because i stood up to a fucking bleach blonde bitch? like seriously you take orders from a daddy’s boy and a guy who’s practically an orphan.” your voice was getting louder and louder, soon enough you were face to face with him just yelling.
“look y/n im sorry okay i swear, i don’t like doing it alright why do you think i never touch you i try to get these fucking assholes to leave you alone you’re just an easy target to them” he tried pleading with you but you weren’t having any of it. “what makes you think i’ll believe you?” you scoffed “you’re trying to excuse yourself all because i stood up for myself?? and what exactly do you do to get them to leave me alone because that obviously isn’t working” your tears dried back up and now just pure anger was holding you together.
“you see when i tell them just to come on, and most times they just say something to you and don’t even touch you.” he was searching your face but your expression stayed the same “have you ever heard of telling them to just stop? and what about me seems like an easy fucking target” you didn’t know what to even ask of him anymore not even understanding yourself why you were still standing here.
“y/n come on.” he looked at you but you didn’t budge just awaiting his response. “you said it yourself you stood up to malfoy, he didn’t like that so it started it. listen overtime it got more than that i guess matt went at you cause your grades are- were better than his . and well pansy goes after you because you’re hotter than her, blaise just goes along, and enzo does whatever enzo does.” he shrugged attempting to explain this twisted reasoning.
“well why do you go after me? because all of this shit seems so unserious for all of you to make me want to leave hogwarts and even this world all together.” you scoffed still heated at these other absurd reasons. he looked at you for a moment contemplating before he sighed “look i really am sorry i didn’t know it was that bad” he pleaded ignoring your question.
“i don’t care if you’re sorry or not that doesn’t take back all of these years theodore. and besides you don’t even have the fucking balls to tell me why you bully me so obviously you don’t feel sorry” you began walking away from him and he reached out grabbing your arm “y/n i just told you so many times i tried getting them to stop, look i don’t know why and i don’t expect you to feel the same but i just over the years ive wanted you more and more and look i just knew i couldn’t ever have you.” he loooked away yet still held onto your arm.
you stood there almost in shock. here you were complaining about everything your bullies put you through to one of those said bullies, and he confessed his crush on you. you didn’t respond just staring at him. “what.” you managed to let out. “i know it’s insane.” he sighed “look i don’t expect you to forgive me but i’ll try and get them to back off.” he spoke up letting go of your arm and walking off.
you didn’t follow or speak up to him, just allowing him to make his way back wherever he came from. sitting back down at the railing you took a deep breath trying to piece together what exactly just happened.
i’m not sure if this is good enough to match what was asked but i hope so😭
#slytherin boys#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter smut#harrypotterboys#harry potter reader insert#fanfic#draco malfoy#tom riddle#smut#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theo nott x reader#theo nott smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#slytherin boys x you#slytherin boys react#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin#harry potter fanfic rec#harry potter fandom#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x reader#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x y/n#blaise zabini smut
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Two Steps Back. | Advanced Payment
logline; it's time to retrace your steps. both of you.
[!!!] series history, this is the thirteenth; nothing distresses me more than when i see people read this out of order PLEASE BABY PLEASE
Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. constant headache was actually in season 3? my brain. my power.
Or, maybe you'd like a playlist made especially for this chapter? Consider this my Fishes special.
portion; 17k new record again, please god tell me it gets shorter from here on i'm so. tired..
possible allergies; you will know exactly what trigger warnings you need upon reading seeing the first line. Also! I watched Season 3, and injected some lines from it into this, including the finale. I don't consider it full spoilers, because it's an entirely new context, but you might wanna catch up before you read this one!
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader so excessively gendered, in this chapter. my bad.
it's my birthday so if you typically lurk legally you have to tell me your thoughts on this one! Also it's once again the new longest, so like. cmon.
“What are you, Amish?”
You blink, craning your head back to look up at this annoying giant. You’re too tired for this shit. This is your one day off this week and you’re spending it fixing faulty lights with your dad, at some shit diner. Why did you agree to start coming on jobs? Why’s this guy gotta bother you on your lunch break? What’s wrong with you not wanting to smoke? Pardon you for not wanting to kill yourself with tobacco—
“Ah, no, I’m just uhm—” You gesture your hand to your head. “I get migraines, kinda easy, so I can’t, uh— Can’t indulge.”
He nods, he opts to stand next to you, while you’re sitting on the curb. At least the smoke will blow over your head, this way. You try to eat your lunch in peace. He does not let you have this moment of peace.
“Jack, right?” He nudges your foot with his. “That’s what your pop’s calls you, at least?”
“Yeah. Everyone calls me Jack.” You nod. Guess this is a conversation now, whether you want it or not. “You’re Mikey? The owner?”
“The Original Chicago Beef, in the flesh.” He nods, and he says it like he’s proud but he doesn’t look it. He leers at your partially consumed tin foil wrapped sandwich. “You bring your own lunch?”
You shrug. “Uh, yeah, grilled cheese with pork—”
“Why would you—” The door to the kitchen swings open, as Mikey grimaces. You both turn your heads to see another guy come out— Oh it’s that one, the one that cannot stop talking about his divorce— Mikey consults him. “Yo, Rich, do I look like some jamoke, to you? Just wonderin’.”
Rich, tilts his head, and his legs follow after him, “No, cousin, whatssup?” He takes the cigarette from Mikey, when it’s offered up.
“Well, our little fixer friend here—” Mikey nudges you, again. “—seems to think me a fuckin’ ass.”
Now when did you say anything like that? “Wha—”
“Stop making lunches, I’ve been watching you come in here with your little lunch pail the past few jobs, you eat free ‘ere, aright? You’re workin’.” Doesn’t matter what you said. Mikey sees you. Mikey’s always seen you.
‘workin’’ is a bit generous. The most you do is hand your dad tools, hold a flashlight, and ask too many questions. You definitely could do more, but he knows you're too tired. He really just wants to spend time with you. You pretend to not know his ulterior motives.
“We’re gentlemen here, sweetheart.” Rich bends down, so you can see him past Mikey’s frame, at your level. He reaches a hand out for you to shake. “Richie. Jerimovich.”
You’re not gonna remember that. You take his hand and shake it. “Jack. It’s— I’m just Jack.”
You’ve only got one hand on your sandwich, to shake Richie’s hand. So, like a school bully, Michael takes your loosened grip as his opportunity to grab it from you. “Yoink—!”
You whine, “C’mon—” “Let me make you a real fuckin’ sandwich, sweetheart—” “I’d just like my sandwich, alright?” “Oh, it’ll be your sandwich, alright? You think I don’t make good sandwiches? Richie, she doesn’t think I make good sandwiches.”
“Fuckin’ insane, cousin.”
You attempt to defend yourself from the peanut gallery of one guy. “Not what I said!”
“Why do you keep bringing lunch, then?”
Because it’s easy? Because it’s orderly? Because you’ve been in a full state of autopilot for the last threeish years and every day you’ve eaten the same breakfast and made the same lunch and then you go on your shift and then someone nearly dies and sobs in your arms and then you sit on the edge of the ambulance and you eat your grilled cheese and pork? Because if you break the routine it’s all gonna hit?
“I just like making my own lunch.”
“Well, stop. You’re breaking my heart.” Michael takes a bite of your sandwich. You click your teeth. Germs. You’re going to chastise him, but he doesn’t let you. “You like pork more than beef?”
“I think beef is fine.”
“Not what I asked.”
You take too long to respond, meaning the lie won’t be believable, so you have to tell the truth. You have to tell The Original Chicago Beef that— “I… I like pork more.”
“How dare you—” Barks Richie, the guard dog, apparently. Mikey stops him, putting a hand up.
“No, no, I asked the lady a question. She’s wrong but I asked. Fair’s fair. We express our fury like gentlemen, Cousin.” He nods, to himself. Thinking. About what is beyond you. God, so much for a lunch break. You point to your sandwich in his hand.
“Can I have that back—” “No. I’m makin’ you a goddamn real sandwich.”
You all but growl, really. You start to stand up. God, this guy is pushy. “I just said, I prefer—”
Mikey’s already making his way back into the kitchen, with the last half of your lunch as hostage. “Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ pork sandwich, aright?”
Mikey’s guard dog stamps out the butt of the shared cigarette, walking backwards into the kitchen, following Mikey but watching you. “He’s gonna make you fuckin’ pork, aright?”
“Aright!” Is all you can yell back, at your wits with the two dumbest most stubborn middle-aged geezers you’ve ever met.
Richie holds the door open for you, so you don’t get locked out. Alright, maybe he is a gentleman. You hear Mikey’s voice ring, from inside the kitchen. “And if you’re not doin’ nothin’ for your dad, try to fix the fuckin’ coffee machine, would you?”
This fucking guy.
You have waved at him a couple times, here and there, while helping out your dad. But now, you’ve officially had Michael Bear Berzatto in your life for a solid ten minutes. Doesn’t feel like it.
Carmen Anthony Bear Berzatto has officially not had you in his life for ten minutes. Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like you’ve been gone for years. But you’re probably still just outside, talking to Richie and Syd. How is it still Friday? What time is it? Almost six? They’ve still got four fucking hours of service to go? No, that’s a good thing. This is a good thing. Doesn’t give him time to think. Everyone needs to stop staring at him.
What a fucking monster. What did he even say? He can’t remember anymore. He remembered ten minutes ago, and now it’s gone. Completely walled off in his memory. What did he say? Why did you make that face? What did he say to Richie, again? Why did you step in front of him? What did you say, again? What did Richie say? What happened? He can’t remember. He knows he did something fucked up but Carmen cannot remember what happened twenty minutes ago. That’s bad, right?
“I need hands!” Carmen does not recognize the fact that he’s working until he hears his own voice.
Right. He’s on expo. He’s doing expo. That’s what was happening twenty minutes ago, he thinks. That’s what was happening, right? Doesn’t matter. This is what he’s doing now. Fak comes back in and takes the tray to run. He looks around for a moment, confused.
“Where’s Tony?”
“She’s gone.”
Fak pauses. You don’t leave, that doesn’t match up in his brain. It doesn’t really match up in Carmen’s either, but this is what’s happening now. “What’d’you mean she’s gone?”
“I mean she’s fucking gone, Fak.” Carmen barks back, practically. Such a fucking monster. Could Fak tell him what he said? Doesn’t matter. Carmen nods to the plate. “Table twenty-five, go.”
“...Where’d she go—” “Fucking go, Fak!”
There is a loud, thrumming buzz. The type that goes off after a game. Or maybe after a wrong answer. Expo clock. Since when did it have a sound setting? The kitchen flinches, including Carmen, including a meek-made Neil, and look to the clock behind them.
Time has stopped. 0ERR is all it displays now. The sign ‘EVERY SECOND COUNTS’ is real ironic, now. What the fuck happened? You would know. You’re still outside, Carmen could get you. Carmen could get you and say he’s sorry for whatever happened. The back of his head feels like it’s hemorrhaging. He needs to go to a doctor. Maybe a paramedic. Carmen could get you, ask you what he said, and also ask if he is actively dying, right now.
“Fak.”
“Carm?”
“Table twenty-five.” Carmen points at the plate again, with his sharpie. Then points behind him, to the broken clock. “Then fix that.”
“Why not call To—” “Do you want a fucking job here or not?” “I—I do—” “Then do your fucking job, Fak.”
Carmen doesn’t need you. The Bear doesn’t need you. They can function just fine. Everything’s fine, without you. Everything’s normal. Everything is the way that it should be. He is shaking so much— When did he eat? Has he eaten? What the fuck is wrong with him? What happened twenty minutes ago? Or was it twenty-five? No. That’s table twenty-five, he’s mixing up his numbers. What time is it? He doesn’t know. The whole kitchen doesn’t know what time it is, anymore. You are gone and so are the minutes.
Fak leaves, with the plate. Shrunken. Following orders. Carmen just turns everyone into himself, doesn’t he? What a fucking monster. He knows how bad it is to be him, and yet he still does it. Look at the orders, Carmen. Run fucking expo. So fucking slow, Carmen. Look at the orders.
The crumpled piece of paper you handed him twenty minutes— Thirty? Fuck. The fucking note you handed him some amount of time ago. It sits on his table, next to all the actual orders. He rereads it, instead of the five cavatellis he’s supposed to be yelling about, right now.
Walk-In Hotfix, $80
Plumbing Repair (Service + 4 Hours), $250
Oven Wiring Fix (House call), $70
Oven Hotfix + Replacement Thermocouple, $120
Non-Gratis: Pinot Grigio, -$20
Advanced Payment, M. Berzatto. -$2,500
You forgot the booths. And taxes. And you should probably get paid a half day, for serving for the past half hour. You also forgot all the times he called you, texted you, came over, the bookshelf you brought him, the basil, the rosemary water, cleaning up his trash, every time you tried food for him, every time you told him everything was going to be okay, every time you made everyone breath in here like it was going to be okay— You forgot everything you do. Priceless. Easily, you are owed millions, from Carmen.
He flips over the note. He reads Sweeps’ quick scribings from David, the fucking asshole out front, the fucking asshole in his head.
Cherry + Lamb, good flavour. A lot of elements. Fresh, Unique. Overall good? Ig? Weird tone.
Said he’d like to speak to ‘Wine Girl’ (ick), mentioned Michelin connect? Number = Connect? (Ick)
You didn’t eat the cherry and lamb dish. That just connected, in his head. You didn’t get to eat it. Not only did you not get to eat it, the motherfucker outside did. Fuck. You were trying to be nice, but you’ve fucked him. Unique is practically a slur to his Exec. Carmen has fun when he makes things for you— He plays— That’s not what his Exec wants. He wants two elements, max. The fact that David actually liked the flavour is nothing short of a fucking miracle. Carmen could throw up. He’s definitely getting an ulcer, again. Where’s your Tums? Fuck, you took it with you, didn’t you?
It’s embarrassing how many rules he forgets to implement, when he cooks for you. Boundless, unrestricted— When he cooks for you. Doesn't cut a single concept. It’s mortifying that someone other than you ate it, let alone David fucking Fields.
Carmen’s eyes feather, almost closing, but not completely. He scratches his fingers through his hair, destroying the cast of gel it’s been stuck in. His curls are desperately trying and failing to reform. It doesn’t matter how much he runs his hands through it, he cannot get it to smell like you again. He cannot find you in himself, he cannot find you in his kitchen. That’s what annoyed him, earlier, wasn’t it? That you were everywhere? That you were carved in, everywhere? He thought he didn’t want that?
His knees bounce where he stands, he bumps into his jacket under the table. Right. You left it. Are you cold? Turtleneck was thin. You looked so good. You always look good. Better, in his clothes, but you always look good. Did he remember to tell you that? Probably not.
“Where—” Fuck, he really is going to throw up. “Where we at on Booth Twelve’s dessert tray, Chef?”
You said it was okay for Carmen to give your number out. You gave your dish out. You shelled yourself out, for Carmen. It feels like a cave is being hollowed out, in his throat. He is so angry and he doesn’t know who it’s for. He doesn’t know where to put it. Is that what happened twenty-three— twenty-four minutes ago? Did he give it to you? No, he gave it to Richie, right? That’s how it started. Marcus hands off the dessert paddle to expo, silently. No one wants to talk to Carmen. That’s probably fair. What did he say? Probably bad. It’s already huge they haven’t walked out on him, yet. Has anyone walked out, yet?
Marcus is here, Syd is still out back— Well, actually, she might’ve left with you, she should if she can. Are you still out there? Tina wipes her eyes, working at the oven you fixed thirty— No, forty— Fuck— Earlier. It’s probably the onions from the broth making her tear up. No, it definitely is. Fak is out front, Sweeps is out front, Richie is still out back.
What did he say to Richie? Something about kids? There are no servers to hand off dessert to stupid fucking booth twelve. Carmen cannot keep looking at the family he’s ruined, in whatever way he managed to ruin it. He grabs the dessert tray. He’ll deliver it himself. He can do it all himself. He’s good by himself.
You’ve been out of Carmen’s life for 0ERR minutes. Yeah. That’s exactly how long it feels like.
“Try it try it try it.” You mumble, hurriedly, excitedly, to Marcus. The bread guy. He’s the nicest of the bunch, so far. You hand him the mug. He takes a sip of the coffee you’ve been perfecting for the last six jobs here, give or take. You’ve been in The Beef’s life for two months or so.
“Holy shit.” He nods, digesting it— Actually digesting it, which means— “It’s edible.”
“I know!” You all but shout, too excited to hide it. You’ve finally figured out how to make this thing produce what it’s supposed to— Instead of what is essentially arsenic with coffee flavouring.
Your excitement makes a line cook behind you grimace. The one you’ve still got yet to win over. “My ears, kid.”
“Sorry.” You reply lightly. Your back is turned to her, so she can’t see you cringe to Marcus, crying for help, practically. He’s sympathetic. He kept saying you just need to prove yourself, but it’s been taking forever, what else can you prove?
He decides to fast track you. “Yo, T.” She nods. She respects Marcus. But you’re just some girl that’s been in her walkway for the past seven weeks. “Try it.” He hands her your edible coffee.
She rolls her eyes, already nonplussed, but she takes the coffee. She is genuinely impressed, for a split second, before it turns into a coy sarcasm. “Wow— You’ve made not poison, great job, baby.”
“I’m gonna get better.” You respond instantly. That’s something you noticed Tina likes. Quickness. “I’m gonna make you a good coffee.” Determination, too.
“Bold.”
“Thank you—”
“No.” She pushes the coffee to your chest; you grab it before it spills. “I like it bold.”
God, she’s so scary. “Heard.” She’s so cool.
She watches you, for a second; wants to see if you crack. You don’t, thankfully. She folds. She finally kinda likes you— Or rather, is willing to admit it, in some small way. “You can come tonight.”
You can come to family, tonight. It takes everything in you not to cheer. You should mix them drinks. Or is that too try hard? No, it’s the perfect amount of try— Right? It was your old party trick in college, you should use it. Prove yourself.
“Cool.” Is all you can say, without seeming like a desperate nerd.
You've been slowly cutting away at every relationship in your life, par for your family— And even that hangs by a thread— And you thought you were fine with that. You thought you were good like that, but once you got used to The Weirdos of The Beef, you cannot help but desperately want friends, again.
Every moment you get outside of your twelve to twenty-four hour EMS shifts, you spend it here. You’re tired, but it might actually be worth it; to talk to people instead of rotting in your apartment for half a week every week.
What month is it? March? When's Squid's birthday again? Did you miss it? It's the one time a year you get to talk without the underlying pressure that you have to hang out now.
Happy Birthday, what have you been up to? Oh, same thing as last year? You're irrevocably a different person now but you're also still the same? Nothing much? Same here. We should see each other soon. We won't. I won't say I love you because I don't want to be weird. Even though we used to say it every day. I will never know you like I used to, and so I won't even try. Same time next year?
Working in The Beef reminds you of her. Reminds you of the other stubborn cook in your life. Was in your life? Don’t think about that. Sometimes you hear her dad's voice out front, buying himself a half-hot half-sweet braised beef sandwich. Sometimes you think about going out there and saying hi. Sometimes you think about asking about Syd. Sometimes you think about asking how the catering gig is going. Sometimes you think about asking if she needs you anymore.
You never do.
“Aye.” Mikey claps your shoulders, bringing you back to earth. You didn't even realize he was behind you. He digs his hands in, a sudden and always painful massage. His preferred way of saying stop fucking tweaking. He leans over your shoulder, looking at the coffee cup that doesn't look as pitiful as it usually does. “Good job, kid.”
“Thank you—” “Now figure out how to make it worth drinking.”
You scoff, rolling your shoulders to push him off you. “I'm fuckin’ trying!”
His hands stay in place, but his massage does become gentle, and actually decent. Per usual. You’re not sure how he always manages to get the knots. “T say you can come to family?”
You had to get all yeses that you are now in fact family to join for family. You look over your shoulder to face him. “Mhm.”
“Good.” He looks around. “Your dad here?”
You nod. “In the basement, something about your furnace? It's fucking beyond my skill set, so I'm up here until he needs me.” As much as your dad started doing this to hang out with you, heads got too hot with you fucking up which tools to hand him one too many times; repeatedly yelling same team in a more and more distressed tone did not seem to be helping either. Whatever. Gave you more time with the coffee machine. You’re going to make this thing your bitch, one day. One day this thing is going to sing for you.
“Oh, good.” And with that, he's already pulling you to his station. “You can help me with family brisket, then.”
“Nooooo—” “If you want family you gotta be family, Jack.”
You whine, but you don't mind this at all. Mikey sees you. Mikey knows you; probably better than he should. He knows you always need something to do.
“Pork?” “Pork.” “Fine.” It's your recipe, so you must oblige.
He's good. Mikey is good. Mikey pays attention. Mikey's made the cycle break in a way that doesn't hurt.
Carmen needs to apologize to Richie, for never taking his stress over running front of house seriously.
Carmen hates being out front already and he’s only just stepped out. Why is everyone looking at him out here, too? He should also apologize for whatever he said forty minutes ago. Thirty-five? Doesn’t matter. What’s important is handing this dessert tray to the fucking jagoff. The man who Carmen dreamed of becoming, the man who he’s now scared he’s become. David Fields. Former Executive Chef. Too many accolades to list.
“Dessert is served, hope you enjoy, Chef.” Carmen manages to bite his tongue for this guy, so why can’t he do it for the people he actually gives a fuck about? He’s a fucking coward. He swallows, setting the dessert paddle down in front of the stupid five fucking guests. Far too big a party, for a fucking walk in. And all they got for dessert was the fucking tasting paddle? Why are they skimping now? Assholes. All of them. Carmen knows all of these people. Well. Knows their faces. Remembers working with them, but never really talked to any of them. Why would he? He was focused. He was good.
“Thank you, Chef.” Says David. It feels like lightning, to hear those words. But not in a good way. It should feel like an accomplishment, to hear this guy say anything remotely positive, to Carmen, but it doesn’t. It feels the opposite, honestly. Feels like something’s wrong. Getting this guy’s approval is wrong.
This is the part where Carmen is supposed to leave. This is the part where the server goes back to the kitchen and continues their job. But he can’t. He’s stuck in place. He’s back in front of the fire, and he’s not putting it out. Carmen swallows hard and his spit feels like glass all the way down his throat. His Exec stares at him, nearly coy— Like he knows. Like he can see the invisible snake coiling around Carmen. Like he knows that Carmen desperately has something to say.
“Let’s have it, Chef.” David goads.
Fuck it. Fuck everything, fuck it. Not like the night can get worse. “Can we step out, for a second, Chef?”
“Lookit this.” Mikey pivots his phone to you, for you to see a photo he's just been sent.
It's of… “What the fuck is that?” You've got no clue. Some weird spiralling array of colours.
“I've no fucking clue. Food? Apparently?”
It's April, and Mikey has let you in. You will not realize how big a deal this is until it's too late. But right now, you're just happy to be hanging out with him before open. Without your dad, too.
Their most frequent regular’s favourite chair broke, one of the legs just fully gave out underneath him. It's an easy fix. Mikey could probably do it himself. Fak or whatever the fuck his name is could absolutely do it himself. Mikey called you, instead. Called you. Not your dad. You think this'll be your first and last solo job. Naive.
“Carmy?” You assume, he's the only person that's on that rich people shit. Michelin Star Chef, baby boy with big dreams.
“Yessir. He’s still killin’ it.” Is all Mikey says, tucking his phone away. You frown at him, screwing the chair leg in, sitting on the floor. He groans. “Don't gimme those eyes, Jack.”
“You should reply!”
“He doesn't need a fuckin' reply.”
You tilt your head, the look you give him translates to ‘Are you forreal?’
He just sighs, exasperated. “You don't get brothers, Jack.”
“I literally have brothers, Michael.”
“Yeah but it's—” He gestures to the general air, attempting to explain nothing. “It's different. We communicate different.”
“Sure.” You can admit that. “I'm sure the dynamic is very different brother to brother, brother to sister. But like—” You jiggle the chair leg, alright maybe it's not that easy of a fix. “It sucks bein’ the baby, I know that much.”
“You're the baby?”
“Yeah, why?” You lift your head from the chair back to him. “I got middle child energy? I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”
“No, no— Oldest.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Thought you were one of me, Jack. My own blood.”
You scoff. But it’s not something you haven’t heard before. You’ve got the blood of people who’ve had to take care of people. “Well, being the only sister kinda made me the oldest sister.”
You pad your hand around the floor, searching, before looking up to Michael, again. “You see the fuckin—?”
He tosses you the chair leg cap, before you can finish asking for it. “You’d like Nat. Similar ideologies.”
“I would love to know how your younger sister fuckin’ survived you, that’s for sure.”
He laughs, at that. “She’s a trooper. Surrounded by some of the worst men Chicago has to offer.” He looks at the coffee that you painstakingly crafted for him, this morning. “This is actually kinda fuckin’ good, Jack.”
“Do you have to add actually and kinda?”
He rolls his head back, neck straining. “For what you had, it’s fuckin’ perfection, alright? Happy?”
“Fuckin’ delighted.” You throw the chair up onto its legs, and it stands. “You?”
He gets up from his seat to try out the chair. He takes the coffee with him. There’s a split second where you’re scared that actually this was too hard a job for you and Mikey is going to fall and the hot coffee is going to careen everywhere and fucking scald him and you told him he needed to get a first-aid kit in here but he hasn’t gotten around to it yet—
Mikey sits, and the chair works. He takes another sip of your chai coffee blend, like a vote of his confidence. He never had any doubt you could get the coffee machine to work, never had any doubt you could make a good coffee, never had any doubt you could get the chair to stand strong. Mikey has always always believed in your capabilities, even when you haven’t, and has always been happy to prove yourself to yourself. Mikey is really good at being an older brother, you think. And forget that he never texted back the real baby of his real family.
“Fuckin’ delighted, Jackie.”
“Never fuckin’ call me Jackie.”
“Heard.”
Two executive chefs stand in front of a restaurant, there’s probably a joke in here somewhere. Carmen doesn’t care to find it. He watches your car drive out onto the road, out of the corner of his eye. That’s it, then. You’re gone. He fishes a pack of cigarettes out from the chest pocket of his chef’s uniform.
“You should quit.” Says David, so high and fucking mighty. As if he doesn’t house a bottle of wine daily.
“I’m aware.” Carmen lights it anyways. You don’t smoke. Did his mouth taste bad, every time he’d kiss you? Probably. You probably just bore it for his sake. Maybe that’s why you so rarely went for his lips. He takes a puff, it doesn’t calm him down.
“Your hair is fucked.”
“And the food?”
“Busy. You can lose the basil and eggplant. You’ll re-learn.” David tilts his head, thinking, smarmy. “Someone got in your head.”
“Someone other than you, yeah.”
“Awe.” David smiles, something he so rarely did in the kitchen, but perfected in public. His tone is so perfectly pouty, like it’s disappointing he’s not the only one living rent free in Carmen’s brain anymore.
Carmen steadies his eyes forward, to the street. He cannot look his own personal nightmare in the eyes, but he can say what he’s always wanted to say. “Why are you such a fucking asshole?”
“How am I an asshole?” “Can you stay ‘til after close?” “You’re welcome.”
Carmen turns his head to face him now, eyes wide like plates. “I— I’m welcome? For—For-for what?”
“You were an okay chef, when you started with me.” David doesn’t fear eye contact. David’s probably never had a bad day in his fucking life. “And you left an excellent chef, so you’re welcome.”
Carmen’s never even heard the fucking word excellent come out of this man’s mouth. Let alone to describe him. It doesn’t feel good, for some reason. It still doesn’t feel good to receive praise from him, despite the fact that he’s everything.
“You…” Carmen needs a second, to catch his breath. He probably should quit smoking. “You gave me ulcers, and panic attacks, and— and nightmares— You— You know that? You understand that?”
“Yeah.” David’s entirely unfazed. All he’s heard is a list of benefits, in his head. “I gave you confidence and leadership and ability— It fucking worked.”
Is this what it working is supposed to feel like? Is this what it feels like to function? Is this what it means, to make it? If it is, then what the fuck does not making it feel like?
“I’m— I’m, I’m— I’m actually fuckin’ stunned, right now, I—” Carmen rubs his hands over his eyes. “My life stopped.”
“That’s the point.”
“That’s the point?”
“You wanted to be excellent. You got rid of all the bullshit, you concentrated, you focused— And you got excellent. And it worked. You’re here.”
You’re not bullshit. You’re not bullshit and he shouldn’t have done whatever he did to make you leave. Carmen is anything but excellent, without the people behind him, and he’s realizing that now. He’s an idiot, because you told him this, the second day of knowing him you told him this. He has a wonderful team— A family— A family he now considers you a part of. And he tanked all of it, everyone— Why? Because he had a bad fucking day? Because a dish got sent back? Because he fucked up tremendously? Boo-fucking-hoo, Carmen. It takes an idiot like David, who thinks he’s a genius, for Carmen to realize they look exactly the fucking same— And that is the actual thing that’s mortifying, tonight.
The real mortifying thing, isn’t that you were so fucking sweet and considerate of his stupid fucking brain and his stupid insane aspirations— It isn’t your dish. The mortifying thing is he prioritized the man in front of him, in any regard. It’s mortifying that Carmen made you feel like you had to prioritize the man in front of him.
“I just— I just made the—The only fuckin’ good thing in my life leave because— Because you got in my fucking head.”
David just raises his brows, like Carmen’s fucking stupid. Like there’s not a problem here. Because to him, there isn’t. And once again, the stupid fucking Exec repeats. “You’re welcome?”
“I’m—” The door opens, and for a moment, despite the fact that he watched your car disappear minutes ago, Carmen still thinks there’s a chance it’s gonna be you; begs a higher power that it’s going to be you. It’s not. It’s Richie.
“Hey asshole—” Richie stops, when he sees David. “Ah. You’re needed, Chef Carmen.”
“Cousin— You’re needed, pronto.”
“Not your Cousin.”
“Heard and resented.”
Richie’s had a habit of calling you cousin, lately. You pull your head out of the back of the Ball-Breaker arcade machine. Its controls are allegedly on the fritz, but you’re pretty sure Chi-Chi just sucks at this game. “Whaddya need? Do I have to run front a-fucking-gain?”
That was a fun out of nowhere three hour shift with zero restaurant experience— Par for bar. It will not be the last.
“Nono— Just a cuppa coffee? More like six.”
You kiss your teeth, tutting him. “You know how the fuckin’ machine works—”
“Want your coffee?” He corrects, like stroking your ego will make you fold. It does. You stand up, stretching your legs.
“Fine. Just get me a list of everyone’s—” He slaps a folded note against your forehead. “Orders.”
“Fucker.” You take it off your head to read. “Whatta ‘bout Mikey’s?” He’s missing from the list.
Richie shrugs. “Surprise him, he’s out back— In one of his moods.”
You don’t know how uncommon it is for Mikey to be so out of it. You’re meeting Mikey during his slow but certain downward spiral, but you don’t know that. No. How could you? No, so you think it’s normal for Mikey to occasionally leave rooms and turn inward.
“Aye aye, Rich.”
He kisses your temple as you pass him, making an all too aggressive ‘muah’ noise, because that’s what fake Italians do, as a form of thanks, and lets you go work your magic on the coffee machine.
You’re pretty integrated into The Beef, at this point. How long has it been? You don’t really need this list of orders, but it’s good to visually ingrain in your brain. You’re thankful to Mikey for investing in a bunch of Torani’s syrups for your coffee dreams. You’re here enough for it to be worth it, anyways.
You’re probably gonna start being here a lot more, soon. Well, maybe.
You haven’t told anyone yet, about what your dad told you this morning. That he’s gotta retire, soon. Like soon, soon. Now, you’re faced with a decision— Keep going with this EMS thing until your body fails and you need to be wheeled out by your own coworkers, or take on ownership of a small family business directly after the fucking pandemic. Really good options, here.
You’re leaning towards the latter, at the moment. You’re leaning towards being called here, for half your jobs. It’d be hard to make ends meet on just whatever crack change Mikey is able to pay you— But you used to bartend in college— You could work dailies whenever you’re short. Probably. It probably won’t be that hard. Could it be harder than what you’re doing now? Could it be harder than watching someone flat line? Probably not.
Ebra, watered down black coffee. T, two sugars, one milk, cinnamon and chocolate syrup. Marcus, spiced coffee. Sweeps, water in a deli cup— A delicacy. Richie, two sugars, cinnamon syrup, ideally boiling hot.
But to be fair, people need someone like you. People need paramedics. Is it selfish for you to decide you can’t handle it anymore? Should you let your body break before you let yourself go on one? Fuck. Fuck. Where’s Mikey? You’re feeling the knots build up again.
Out back. Richie said he’s out back. You pick up your coffee, and Mikey’s— cinnamon and caramel, this time— And head out back.
And you see a sight that you’ve actually seen plenty of times.
You’ve just never seen it in the back alley of The Beef. You’ve just never seen it happen to a friend. You’ve just never seen it happen to Mikey. You don’t drop your coffee cups in some sort of dramatic shock, or anything like that. Because that would take time. It’d take too much time to be shocked. You just turn around, immediately, partially crashing into the door as you run back in, breaking the mugs and spilling scalding hot coffee over your hands and chest— You don’t feel it, you don’t give a fuck.
“Cousin!”
You’re a mom friend. That’s what Syd used to say. You carry Tums, painkillers, cough drops, pepto— All in your purse or pockets. You keep a lighter on hand. You keep safety pins— All ranging in size, just in case of a clothing mishap. You keep kid’s band-aids in your wallet. You’re a mom friend. Everyone used to find you also carrying a naloxone kit a bit dramatic, like you were overdoing it. You always hoped they were right; that it would never be used. Regardless, you'd always replace it when it expired.
“Cousin get my fucking bag, now!”
“Right.” Carmen’s honestly kind of surprised, to be needed. But it’s probably just cover, to talk. People don’t typically need people like him, especially not Richie. He nods to David. “Chef.”
“Chef.” David nods back. He looks at Richie. “Where’d your translator go?”
The fuck? Richie does not look phased, at all. He also looks like he’s been crying— So it might just be that nothing phases him, right now— But at the very least, Carmen would expect some surprise. So this disrespect must not be new. Why didn’t he tell him?
Maybe he did, actually. Maybe that’s what happened forty minutes ago? How’d that lead to you leaving?
“My what?” Richie knows exactly what David’s getting at, but he asks anyways, to embarrass the fucker.
But David doesn’t feel embarrassment, it’s just not in him. “Your somme.”
“She had to leave early.”
“Ah,” He nods, “You’ve got her number, by chance?”
A deep and sharp exhale, through Richie’s nose, as he desperately tries to be a good host. Tries to be star material. But he runs his tongue across his top teeth and he just can’t bring himself to bite it. Richie hates both of the men in front of him right now. “I do, I do, actually— I’ve had her number for three years, memorized, y’know why?”
David shrugs, delighted to upset someone. “She your wife or something?”
A sharp, terrifying chuckle, honestly— One that hides any sign of a smile. Rich steps forward. “Oh, I should be so lucky. I would be so fucking lucky, if a woman like that—” And he pivots his head, to speak very deliberately, to Carmen. “Decided for some Godforsaken fuckin’ reason, that I was worth an ounce of her precious time— Let alone her hand.”
“If only, truly, David.” Still looking at Carmen, squarely in his face. “If fuckin’ only. If I had someone like that— I’d be on hand and fucking knee, for her.”
“Chef.” Carmen’s talking to David but looking at Richie, but that might also be because he can’t look anywhere else.
“Chef.” David shrugs, whatever fight here is beyond him. He doesn’t fucking care. Carmen knows the Michelin thing was bullshit—Certainly David can put in a good word, but inspectors are anonymous, that’s the whole point. But his stupid fucking Exec wanted to see if Carmen would stoop so low as to take the bait. It also wouldn’t hurt to get your number, you’re perfect. Carmen doesn’t think he’d have taken the bait, but the fact that he’s not sure speaks volumes.
David steps back into The Bear, and an Executive Chef and his dead brother’s best friend stand outside their restaurant. There’s a joke in here somewhere, and it’s probably Carmen.
“I’d fucking kill him.” You shake your head, when Mikey tries to brush off the end of his story like it’s no big deal. “I can’t believe no one fuckin’ said anything.”
“They might’ve.” He sniffs, arms crossed— Guarding himself. He sits opposite of you, both sitting on the floor of his office, backs against either wall. “But I couldn’t fuckin’ hear anything but him— And then the fucking car, obviously.”
You can tell he’s trying to move on. He wants you to ask if his mom was okay. You don’t honestly care, and you don’t care if that makes you a bad person, either.
“You’re not nothing, Mikey.”
It’s close to midnight, a humid but cool August midnight. A week or so, since Mikey’s overdose. You’re finally christening your jumpsuit with a patch from The Beef, on the left shoulder. You do keep stabbing yourself with the sewing needle— If you were sleeping beauty you’d be fucking dead.
“I know.”
“Mikey, you’re not.”
“Don’t fucking Good Will Hunting me.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.” You both laugh, but you’re still stuck with him, at that dining table, in your head. You’re still hearing Uncle Lee screaming, despite never actually hearing it. “They should’ve said something.”
“It’s different when you’re there.” He shrugs, again. “Hard to speak in those rooms.”
Your lips stay tight, for a moment. There’s a long silence of just staring at each other, because you want him to know that you’re completely serious when you say— “I would’ve said something.”
“Sug tried to say somethin—” “She told you to stop, that’s bullshit.” “She was mediating—”
“And why the fuck were you the one that needed to calm down, exactly?” You frown, deeply. You don’t have anything against Sug, but this story just rubs you the wrong way. The way no one was on his side verbally. “Just cause you’re the guy, means you can’t stick up for yourself? I hate that shit.”
He thinks on that, for a moment; because no one has ever said the thing out loud, never acknowledged it. He nods, tucking one knee up to rest an arm on it. “It sucks, being the guy.”
“It fucking sucks to be the guy!” You shout back, emphatic, practically jumping to agree— You jab yourself again. “Fuck, ow— Yes, it sucks.”
“And—” You’ve really opened a faucet for him. “And no one wants you to acknowledge that you’re the guy— Like you can take the compliment, but you can never say ‘I know, I’m doing it on purpose.’”
You poke at the tip of your nose with one hand and then to Mikey with the other, bang on. “No one wants the guy to know they’re the guy!”
“We always know!” “We always fucking know!” “We’re the guy on purpose!”
It’s rare for people like you two to talk and actually get along. The typical stereotype is that two sweethearts will always end up butting heads, too intimidated— But instead, you’re both just able to honestly commiserate over being who you are. The Guy. The Dependable One. The Head.
“You shouldn’t have to always be good and—and like, understanding of every single fucking person— Especially when they’re a dick!” You yell, exasperated. “You are allowed to fucking stick up for yourself!”
He tightens his lips in a line, because he agrees, but he has been so trained to lay down and take it. To take the teeth; it’s one of the many many jobs of being the guy. You know it just as well. He sighs, “I know.”
“You’re worth standing up for, Mikey.” You emphasize. They should’ve said something. It shouldn’t have been on you. You shouldn’t have had to defend yourself. They should’ve protected you, like you did for them. Like you always do for them.
His eyes flicker, a bit. He clears his throat and punches his chest, shaking his head out of it, because if he doesn’t, he might actually fucking cry, and that’s not what the guy does. “Okay.”
You nod. “Okay.”
He kicks your foot with his. “Now tell me some fucked up thing that happened to you, Jack.”
You laugh, and it quickly turns into a groan as you try to come up with something. “I uh… Oh! I fuckin’ hate the nickname ‘Jack’, that’s something.”
“Oh?” He leans forward, teasingly intrigued— You’ve thrown him a bone, because you’re the guy, too. He’s able to focus on this in lieu of himself.
You nod and continue. “My dad gave it to me, when I was really really little, like five or six— And it was ‘cause I like— For a kid, I was really into uhm, like— Like everything?”
“Like a nerd?” “Like a nerd.”
You chuckle. “I liked helping him go on jobs, and barely being able to hold flashlights. And I liked learning what all the wires and the pipes do— I liked doing chores and like— Making shit for people, or doing shit for people, if it made ‘em happy.” You’re a little too zoned in, on your sewing. The motion helps keep you grounded. “And so he would go like Awe, my helpful little Jack of all Trades, you can do it all.”
You pull the string up and out of the fabric, taught, dramatically high. “Which like, of course he was trying to be like, a good dad and hype me up— But my kid brain just garbled it and translated ‘you can do it all’ to ‘you have to do it all.’”
“Damn.” He cringes but laughs, sympathizing. “You got ‘guy’d’ at fuckin’ five?”
“Well, when did you get ‘guy’d?!” You snap back, he takes a moment to think about it, sighing.
He shrugs. “Probably five.” “Exactly!”
You both laugh, a bit too aggressively, honestly; compensating for the sting. Mikey sniffs, adding. “So that’s why you hate it? ‘Cause of the weight?”
“‘Cause of the weight.” You nod. “Like a constant reminder, that I need to be like— constantly at service.”
“Yeah.” He nods, eyes looking down. Thinking about far too much, and though you have become his closest confidant, there are still parts of him that he won’t show. “Drinking helped?”
“Drinking helped.” You close the last stitch on the patch. “Which is funny, because that whole thing started from wanting to be helpful.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that?”
“There was uhm—” You can’t help but laugh a little, at the ridiculousness of it. “There was this girl, and she was my best friend, and she fucking loved— Or I guess still loves— Cooking. And even as a dinky little highschooler, she’d have me try shit, and it’d be like— So luxe.”
“Right.” Mikey smiles, thinking of all the dishes that have been foisted on him by the precocious cook in his life.
“And I wanted to be like… equally impressive. So I started doing research on wine pairings and shit, so I could have something to talk to her about, have somethin’ to say other than wow great job— Because I could tell she always wanted more.”
“And so you became an alcoholic?” “I haven’t gotten there yet!” “Well stop burying the lead!” “Oh don’t you point a finger when it comes to burying a fucking lead.” “Oh, fuck you.”
“Anyways!” You clap a hand on your knee, casting aside the completed sew job. “I’d give her pairings based on research— still teens, so we couldn’t drink yet, but she appreciated the thought. And then I went to college and she went to CIA and we were talking and then we graduated and suddenly we weren’t…” You knock your fist against your hand a couple times. “We weren’t talking, anymore.”
“And so you became an alcoholic?” “Kinda.” “Oh. I was being sarcastic.” “Yeah, dontchu feel guilty as fuck now?” “What happened?”
“It was easy.” You shrug. “I started working at pubs in college, I was getting free drinks all the time, I was trying more wines for her— I didn’t really see it as a problem, because like, I didn’t do it to function, I never reached for anything like ‘oh I fucking need this.’”
“That’s how it starts.”
“That’s how it fuckin’ starts.” You nod. “Then suddenly we weren’t talking and I became an E-M-T, and then suddenly I was watching people y’know, live through the worst moment of their lives or die, and I— Suddenly I did need that drink.” You should’ve just called her. She would’ve done a lot more for you than a bottle could. But you were stupid and tired, and still are.
“Who coulda thunk it?” “I know! Ridiculous.”
“How long you been stable, again?”
“Six months, four days… But who’s counting?” You laugh, and so does he.
You’re both very literally counting. And the buzzer of a timer going off on your phone reminds you of that. You both stare at it, in a daze, as it officially hits Twelve in the morning. Once you silence it, you look to Mikey.
“Michael The Bear Berzatto, you have officially been sober for twenty-four hours.”
He smiles, no teeth, but he smiles. “Gimme.”
“Be patient!” “I am being the most patient a person can be.” “Yeah that’s fair.”
You opt to go for the cupcake first, a big One candle sticking out of it. “This is stupid.” Says Mikey. “Have some fucking whimsy in the face of adversity.” Says you, pulling out your disposable camera.
“Do we need photos?” “What the fuck else are we gonna put in my folder?” “I dunno, write me sonnets.”
“Do you want sonnets?” You ask, and the worst part is Michael can tell you’re being sincere. You would write him sonnets, if he only asked. You would do anything, if he only asked. You quit being an EMT, immediately after seeing the state he was in, last week. You are here for Michael, and he only has to ask.
He shakes his head and blows out the candle when you lift the cupcake to his face, and he makes a wish to whatever higher power exists, that he won’t drag you down with him.
You thread a 24 Hours in Recovery chip onto the embroidery thread you were using and tie it off. When you present it to him, he bends his head down. “Chip me.”
“That’s not what chip me means.” “It means something?” “I’m pretty sure chipping someone means shooting someone—” “Well Google it, Chip.” “Well, fuck, ok— Chip?”
He shrugs, “Better than Jack, no?”
You throw the necklace over his neck, like you’re knighting him. You grow a great degree softer. Even when he’s deliberately not supposed to be The Guy, when he’s supposed to be working on himself, he’s still your guy. Still looking out for you just as much as you look out for him. He will never realize that you consider the exchange equal.
“Yeah, better than Jack.”
“This sobriety thing is going to be easy.” “ —Okay, so— The thing is, everyone kinda says that after twenty-four hours and then a week or two in, it actually hits—” “It’s gonna be so easy.” “I love that you think that and I want you to keep that hope up, I also think maybe let’s just be easy on ourselves if it gets hard—” “It’s not gonna get hard.” “That’s what she said—” “Fucking gross!”
He throws his arm over your shoulder, a loving noogie, but a noogie nonetheless. You try to hit him from below, it’s a failed flailing. You both start laughing and he stops, opting to just hold you there. You hold his forearm with your hands, and sigh.
“...Even when it’s not easy, we’re on the same team, okay? Don’t forget that. That we’re on the same team and I love you.”
He squeezes you a little, bicep curling. In fifteen seconds you will complain that he’s choking you, but right now, he says, “I’m not gonna forget you love me, Chip.” and neither of you know this is a lie, yet.
“I’m sorry.” Carmen sniffs, is he actually going to cry? Holy shit, he might cry. “I don’t know what I said—”
“You don’t know what you said?” Richie scoffs, he can’t help but laugh. “You don’t know what you fuckin’ said? Ah— It’s— It’s all good, man. You don’t know what you said, so it’s all good—”
“I’m apologizing—” “Nonono— No— It’s all good, I don’t need a fuckin’ apology. I know how you feel now, so it’s all fuckin’ good.”
“I love you—” “You love me? You love me? Oh, that would’ve been nice to hear half a fucking hour ago.”
Has it really only been thirty minutes?
“No— No, you know what?” Richie takes a choked breath, pressing his index finger over his nose and mouth, then points it to Carmen. “If that’s what your fuckin’ love is— I don’t fuckin’ want it. And I don’t want that shit for Chip, either— So leave her the fuck out of your fuckin’ love or whatever the fuck you think that is, too.”
That one hurts, because it’s true. Carmen can’t say anything to that; the silence just eggs Richie on more. “Oh, was that a low blow, to you? Cause I’d say saying it was her fault was a pretty low fucking blow— Kinda below the belt shit, if you ask me—”
“What?”
A silence louder than anything either of them have ever heard hangs in the air.
“Fuck you mean what?”
“I said what?” Carmen’s spit still feels like glass, he is destroying his throat. “What—What did I say?”
Stunned, Richie is stunned. And he can’t tell if Carm’s lack of cognizance in the situation makes him more or less angry. He’s pretty sure it’s more. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Cousin, what the fuck did I say to her?”
“You said she failed him.”
Yeah, Carmen’s gonna cry. Carmen is absolutely going to cry. Not weeping, but a tear. Just the one. Just the one, and the dry heaving. The dry heaving and just short of falling over, managing at the last minute to fall onto his rear. He slides his back against the full length window of The Bear. All the guests will get to witness his full blown meltdown. Who fucking cares. He cards through his semi-matted hair, again— It’s not fucking working. It’s not working and he might as well tear his hair out because there’s no reason for it anymore if you're not in it.
“I am a monster.” Not said like a question, not said with emphasis, not choked. Completely monotone. Zero pulse. Said as a fact as simple as the sky is blue. And it is. Because now that he remembers that one thread, he can follow it back. “I am bullshit.”
It’s hard to kick someone, when they’re down. It’s hard to say all the things you want to say to a person, when they’re just saying it about themselves. Richie just stares, debating his options. He could so easily choose to destroy what’s left of Carmen. Frankly, Carm’s sitting at the perfect angle to kick his fucking teeth in. Richie came out here with full intent of throwing Carmen through the window. Came out here with the full intent of proving he’s a fucking problem.
“...I don’t know how to fix it.” But Carmen looks up at him, with a never before seen level of humility. “How do I fix it?”
His best friend loved this guy, and unfortunately you also seem to be on the verge of loving this guy. And even more regrettably, Richie loves this guy. He shrugs, and to any onlookers, his response would seem to be lacking any level of empathy.
“Stop being you.”
“You don’t love me!”
“Of course we fuckin’ love you!”
“You don’t fucking love me!”
Like tidal waves, Richie and Mikey crash against either side of the walk-in freezer door. Mikey desperately trying to escape the freezer; you and Richie desperately trying to keep him in.
Your phone rings, in the middle of this. “Ah, shit, she’s calling back, hold on—” You slide your back off the door slowly, giving Richie time to place extra weight where your body was to keep it closed as Mikey relentlessly slams. He’s pivoted to screaming like— Well, a bear, now.
You move just a few feet away— Enough to fog up the yelling, but not enough that you couldn’t run back to Richie if his arms start to numb.
“Yo, T.” You answer, thankful that somebody has finally returned your fucking calls. To be fair, it’s painfully early— But how is no one awake an hour before they have to clock in? C’mon.
“We’re doing this because we love you, fuckin’ numb nuts!”
“Don’t be fuckin’ mean when he’s in a vulnerable state!” You kiss your teeth, yelling to Richie behind you, just as Tina tries to say hi.
“I am not a fucking patient, Chip!” Another slam, another violent jiggling of the door handle. You’re pretty sure that shit is going to break off one day, if he keeps doing that. You don’t know how right you are now, but you will in a year or so. “Open the fucking door!”
You only remember you’re on the phone with Tina when she pipes up, vaguely hearing the yelling on her end. “...Two week milestone going well?”
“Just fucking peachy, T.” You grimace, rubbing the space between your brows. “You think it’s healthy to lock him in the freezer? I feel like we are fucking this up.”
“Why’s he in the freezer?”
“Guess who was—” You turn your head to Richie, when you speak into the phone. “So fucking stupid— And left his fucking xanax just out in the open with his unfinished breakfast?”
“I apologized—” “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, Cousin! Now open the fucking door!”
“Yeah, I think freezer is the right call.” Says Tina; you’re both not sure if that’s true, but at the very least when he’s in there he can’t hurt himself or either of you. But fuck, he must be cold. Maybe that’s good for his nervous system? Every yell just mounts with guilt— But you’re his sponsor now. You are not his friend right now, you’re his mentor and you’re meant to do this. This is definitely— slam— the right thing—scream—to do.
“Yeah, probably.” You nod, to no one. “Well, basically, if you can let everyone know to just— Not fucking come in, today, or at the very least not come in for like— At least three hours. Maybe six. It’s not like you can work anyways, the freezer’s off limits until further notice.”
“You sure you don’t need us to come in?”
“Ah, T, that’s a nice thought but—” You wince, as you hear a crash from inside the walk-in. “I don’t know if it’s better or worse, for more people to witness this.”
Richie can tell what the crash is, because he himself has dropped shit an innumerable number of times in that walk-in before. “—Did you just knock over the fuckin’ stock—” “Fuck yourself! Fuck yourself! This is my fucking restaurant! Let me the fuck out, Richard!”
“Let’s just say call me back in three hours.” Is what you settle on. You don’t want to see this, and you don’t want anyone else to have to see this. And when Mikey eventually comes out of his rage state, he will be glad that the only two people that actually saw him like this, are his two closest friends. “Can you let everyone else know?”
“Yeah baby, I’ll let ‘em know.” First time Tina’s called you baby with sincerity instead of sarcasm, you wish you could savour it, but you’re so distracted with everything else that you really don’t even notice it. “Keep yourself safe too, alright?”
“Okay, Mama.” You reply with what is really only half sarcasm, and let her go. You sidle up to Richie, back on holding the door closed duty. Backs against the walk-in door, holding Mikey in, despite punch after punch after punch. He’ll wear himself out, eventually, but you’re terrified about how long that’s going to take. So is Richie.
He nods to your phone. “How long?”
You don’t need to check to know. “In six hours, he’ll be at two weeks.” You wince as one of Mikey’s hits against the door very directly targets your back, putting it in knots. “But it’s not like he’s suddenly going to go, oh well it’s been two weeks so I’m normal now, though.”
Richie just nods, pensive. “M’sorry.”
You shake your head. “I was just bein’ a bitch, we’re all getting used to it, I gettit, just try to be safer.”
He nods again, looking down at you as the beating seems to slow down. Richie tries to imagine a world where you two aren’t here right now; for some reason, he finds that universe more miserable. “We’re so fucked.” Because here it’s you two. You’re so fucked but it’s you two. It will take more than a year for you to figure out that’s how Richie feels.
“I know.” You punch back against the door, alerting Mikey— Not that he wasn’t already alert, and speak to both of them. “Same team, though!”
One last resounding body slam into the door, with everything Mikey has— It moves, just a bit, but not at all enough to open it. And then, a long silence. To the point where you and Richie look at each other, worried if Michael has somehow just died in there. But then a quiet voice speaks, like a white flag being raised.
“Same team.”
You look to Richie for permission, he’s just as clueless as you are here, as to what the right call is. With the most trepidation one could have, you put your hand on the handle and just start to pull on it, not even close to opening it. But Mikey notices the way the hinge moves by a hair, on the other side.
“Don’t open it.” You know he’s up to the door, just opposite of you. Not capable of looking at you; not capable of looking at him. “Six hours. It’s just six hours.”
But you can hear each other. And maybe that’s all you really ever needed. To be able to hear each other, even when he’s not here.
“Six hours. Same team.”
“I don’t know how.” Carmen’s nose twitches. “I don’t know how to stop being fucking—Garbage— I’ve tried—” “Have you?”
It’s a bit knife twisting, from Richie, but necessary. “Have you done the work? Cause it’s— I don’t think you have, Carm.”
“...What the fuck kinda work can I do, to fix me—?” Richie snaps his fingers, pointing at Carmen, interrupting him. “That— That is the exact fuckin’ problem with you, Cousin.”
Carmen almost rolls his eyes, putting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “What, that I’m self-aware?”
“That you just fuckin’ give up.” “I don’t just give up—” “You do! You give up and you go wah, I’m a Chef with issues and I’m gonna make it everyone else’s fucking problem—” “I am asking for help—” “Are you? Because the last person that helped you just ran out crying.”
Richie exhales, eyes closed. There’s a long forced silence, as a few tables full of patrons exit The Bear, awkwardly shuffling past what is clearly a crisis between the people that have been serving them tonight.
“That was below the belt, I’ll admit.” Says Rich, once they’re out of earshot.
Carmen just shakes his head, though he cannot look at Richie, though he can’t refute anything.
Richie steps next to where Carmen sits, and like an olive branch, Carmen lifts up his arm to offer his cigarette. Richie accepts, thank God— Thank you, for softening him up, because if you hadn’t, again, Carmen would be going headfirst through the fucking window right now.
“Don’t yell ‘t me—” That honestly hurts more than getting thrown through a window. “But I don’t think you got Andrea, at all.”
Andrea? Oh. “Chef Terry?” The Ever’s owner, Richie means.
“Andrea.” Richie nods, taking a puff. “Every second counts— I don’t think you got it.”
Carmen just shrugs, shaking his head, sure, he worked there for years and Richie worked there for days, but sure, he’s the one that didn’t get it. “Yeah? What’d I miss?”
“It’s not meant to make you fuckin—” He gestures to the general form of Carmen. “Tweak. It’s not about speed or— or— like firin’ off on all fuckin’ cylinders.”
“Then what is it?”
“It counts because it counts.” Richie hands the cig back to Carmen. “It’s— The fucking—” He kisses his teeth, trying to figure out the best way to explain. “When you took like, a million goddamn years to make that fuckin’ mont— Mont— What was it?”
“Montmorency.” Your cherry sauce. Carmen spent too fucking long reducing it, yesterday. He redid it like five times. He’d redone it so many times the autopilot in his brain fucked up that fucking plate yesterday, and it threw his entire life into a spiral. No. That's not what happened. He threw his life into a spiral.
“That was worth it, cause it— Cause it took time. Does that— Am I making any fuckin’ sense? Terry did this shit better, fuck.” Richie rubs a hand over his face, you’d probably be able to explain this better too. “It’s not the thing you’re doing that makes it count, it counts because you’re doing it.”
The value is in the time, not what is delivered. It does not need to be the most special, hyper condensed, hyper focused, upper echelon second to count. It will count because it counts. Time spent is worth it, no matter what was bought. Every second you spend, will always count. All the work and the not work and the love and the not love— It all counts. It counts because it counts. You care therefore you care. Any effort made is good effort.
Why does Carmen keep taking eons to learn what you are always trying to tell him?
The door opens, again. Instead of more patrons, Syd steps out— Wondering where the fuck her Exec and Host have gone. “Are we good?”
“No.” Says her Exec and Host. She nods, that’s good, cause she’s not good either.
“Who’s runnin’ house?”
“No one.” Lies Syd, Tina’s running the back, Sweeps is running the front, but she wants to freak Carmen out a little. She grabs the cigarette from Richie. “Burn the money, I say.”
“So, what you’re asking me to do— If I’m understanding, correctly, which— I might not be— You want me to take all my money, okay, and place it in a fucking furnace? Is that right?”
“So I’m sensing—” You curl your hand in the air. “A touch of hostility, which is fair.”
Bargaining with Uncle Jimmy isn’t the easiest thing in the world— Especially when this is your first time meeting him— And you’re begging him for money. Well, helping Mikey beg him for money.
“Listen, Uncle, please.” Mikey swallows, leaning in, elbows on the table. It’s nearly the end of January. New year, fresh start. No better time to pitch a half-baked pipe dream in the middle of The Beef’s dining room. “It’s not like I’m brand new to the restaurant gig— We turn profit, here, we can fuckin’ pay people.”
“Can you pay me?” “We will—” “Or you could just let me cut my losses—” “I wanna do something real, Uncle.”
“Why’s she here, again?” You shrink, when Cicero points at you. You swallow.
“I’m here as… Proof… That he wants to do something real.” You have to stop yourself from doing jazz hands, doubling down on the awkwardness will not make it go away, that is sadly not how that works.
Jimmy stares, for a moment, the cogs in his brain almost audibly whirring, as he stares at the space between you and Mikey, where you sit, at the other side of the booth. “Are you having a fuckin’ baby or somethin?”
The visceral reaction from your side of the booth is immediate. The worst part is he’s not even the first one to ask something like this— No, the manager at Wells Fargo was.
“What the fuck!” “Come on, Uncle…” “Do I— Do I look like a Milf, what the fuck is going on—” “She could be my daughter!” “Alright— So that is a little far, but the sentiment—”
“Alright, shut the fuck up, what is so fucking real that I’m suddenly going to hack up—”
Mikey tosses his necklace onto the table. It shouldn’t be physically possible, because it’s on a string, but it still manages to roll for a comically long time, like a coin, over to Jimmy. To thine own self be true. One Month.
“You will not be giving your money to some fucking junkie, Uncle—”
You wave a hand, interrupting Mikey. “Verbiage.”
He swallows and nods, taking the note. A hard lesson to learn. “You will not be giving your money to— To— You— You’re gonna give your money to someone who is trying, alright?”
Uncle Jimmy hasn’t looked up from the chip since it landed; Mikey continues. “And— And I’m gonna bring Carmy on, and we’re gonna do like—Like high level shit. Like a real fuckin’ Michelin level—”
“How many times have you gotten to a month?”
“First time.”
Jimmy frowns, crossing his arms. “How many times have you tried getting to a month?”
“Five.” Michael says, “Six.” you correct. Christmas was hard. Christmas was extremely fucking hard. You weren’t with the Berzattos, upon Mikey’s request— And neither was Carmen, upon Mikey’s ignoring him completely. And that made things a little fucking hard.
Jimmy just nods, arms still crossed. He’s forming some sort of plan, in his head, you’re just not sure what it is yet. He looks to you. “So you’re his sponsor, then?”
“Yessir.” “Do you feel qualified to do that?” “No-sir.”
Mikey kicks you under the table, your proclivity for honesty is not doing a great job selling this whole restaurant idea. You kick him back. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to feel qualified.”
“You sober?” “Not really.” “Well that’s kind of a key factor, I’ve heard.”
You sigh and lean forward, putting your hands in your lap. This is Mikey’s Uncle— Well, is he, actually? Unsure. But he gives as much of a fuck as you do, so you spill your guts, because you know he’s poking because he’s worried that some kid is taking care of Mikey and it’s the blind leading the fucking blind.
“I’m stable. I drink, sometimes— But never more than one glass, and never multiple days in a row. I’m coming up on a year, I still attend A-A— Though not as often as I’m told I should— And I’ve told Mikey that turbulent month long benders and a full blown decade long opioid addiction are not the same thing and I really shouldn’t be his sponsor.”
Mikey leans forward as well, then, meeting your level. “And I told Chip— And our coord— That I won’t do the program without her.”
After a long moment of silence, taking his time to digest every bit of information, Jimmy nods to the folder on the table. “N’ this?”
“It’s like a… Proposal?” You look to Mikey for help, he shrugs. This motherfucker— You’re not even a stakeholder in this, why are you talking? You turn back to Jimmy. “It’s like a promise.”
You open the folder, there’s loose sketches you’ve put together of The Bear’s signage, plus Carmen’s original piece— It was fun and weird, to work off of an artist you’ve never met before. There’s also cut outs from the New York Time’s and Food and Wine magazine showing off his award winning talents.
“We make money now.” Mikey finally chimes in, crossing his arms. “Imagine what we could do with him.”
“It would be cool!” You wingman. A little too excited for someone who’s never even breathed in a Michelin restaurant. “It’d be cool to have, like, a fine-dining establishment on North Orleans.”
“Or you’d completely cut out the audience that already likes The Beef.”
Mikey defends, “The people don’t know what they like, yet.” while you spread out some more papers across the table, showing off screenshots of food Carmen’s texted, that Mikey has never replied to. “They will like this shit— It’s— It’s art, Uncle. When they see this, they won’t give a shit about sandwiches.”
“They’ll give a shit about the price.”
“Uncle, I’m the guy.” Mikey uncrosses his arms, straightening up his posture, because now it’s serious. “I can— We can do this.”
As you continue to spread out papers, Uncle Jimmy stops you, seeing a peculiar page in the pile. He points to it, so you fish it out and hand it to him. He squints. “Joint bank account?”
You nod. “It’s so I can keep an eye on his spending and withdrawals.” Mikey tries not to wince at the fact a kid is in charge of managing his finances. You try not to wince at the fact that despite managing his finances, he's still reset six times.
“Y’know banks are a fuckin’ scam, right?”
You do not entertain Jimmy for a second, finally losing your whimsy. Your leg is shaking underneath the table— Thank God these tables are bolted. “I know that this is the first time in twenty years that my best friend is keeping savings.”
Not just living paycheck to paycheck, anymore. Not spending every penny on painkillers, anymore. Mikey is saving up because now there is a future to spend it on. Cicero swallows, nodding, eyes looking down, thinking deeply.
When he speaks again, it’s to say the most insane thing you’ve ever heard. “Ten grand a week.”
Your reply is in sync with Mikey, both jumping forward in your seats. “What?”
“Every week.” Jimmy pushes the chip back to your side of the table. “Every week that you keep going, that’s ten grand.”
You flail your hand under the table, grabbing for Mikey’s— He does the same, and it’s like a contest for who’s going to break who’s hand first, with how hard you’re holding each other.
Mikey’s first to ask the question, “Is that… Starting now or starting since I—”
“I’m so glad you asked, fuck no, that’s starting now.” He points to you, now. You flinch. “You’re gonna piss test him every fuckin’ week. I’m not fucking around about this.”
“Right. Heard.” You can only nod, because if you express anything else, it might just be screaming forever and ever. He pivots back to Mikey.
“And it’s gonna be cash— It’s not going in that fuckin’ joint, aright?” “Heard.”
“...Alright. Deal.” Cicero comes forward in his seat, and shakes Mikey’s hand. And despite not being a stakeholder, he reaches for yours, too; you shake it, and after a moment, he ruins this excitement stirring in the room, moving out of the booth. “I gotta piss, now.”
When he leaves for the bathroom, Mikey leans his head to you, putting his chin on your shoulder, whispering, “Art of the deal.”
You push his face away immediately, laughing. “Shut the fuck up! Why did you make me lead that shit!?”
Tomorrow Mikey will relapse again, and you’ll reset his necklace for the seventh time, but you don’t know that yet. Carmen’s gonna be so excited, when he finally comes back to Chicago and gets a sober brother and his dream restaurant. You’re excited to meet the guy, one day. Fingers crossed he likes you.
“That was fucking nuts.” Sydney decides that’s the best way to surmise it. “Like more than usual.”
“I’m aware.” Carmen can only nod, and despite the fact that he’s just going to lie down and take this, it does not remove the bitter feeling in her heart at all. Syd’s fucking mad, and she wants him to know.
“I’ve— I’ve literally only ever seen her cry like, like during Pixar movies or when we graduated. Like she just— That’s not a thing she does. I, I’m so— I literally don’t know what the fuck to do, right now.” For a second, she thinks her vision is flickering. “Oh my god, am I finally having a stroke?”
The three restaurateurs look up to see their neon white logo of a bear’s head, flickering and occasionally buzzing out. Richie’s the first to speak, as they all blankly stare at it. “Who are we gonna call, f’this?”
If this was yesterday, or maybe even if this was an hour ago, it wouldn’t be a question as to who they’d call. Carmen scratches the back of his head, the flaking hair gel is getting itchy. “Ted?”
“Who’s Ted?” Asks Syd; that’s not Tony, Terry or Tommy.
“Ted Fak.” Richie and Carmen answer at once, she almost gasps.
“They’re multiplying?”
Richie rolls back into his memory. “There’s eight— No, fuck, nine of them— I always forget Avery.”
Sydney just nods and hugs her shoulders for warmth. They all keep staring at the flickering bear, like moths.
“I don’t—I don’t have anyone, except her, y’know?” Syd sniffs. “Like after my dad, it’s— it’s literally just her. She’s my best and only friend.”
Carmen presses the palms of his hands over his eyes, “Heard.”
“I don’t want to choose between her and my career.” Carmen thinks she’s pausing, so he waits, but she’s not talking. That was the end of the sentence.
“Heard.”
“If that’s what getting a star takes, I don’t want it.” That’s huge. That’s a big statement, from Syd of all people. That gets the men to turn their heads from the light to her.
Syd continues to stare at the flickering bear, which lights up the two single straight streams of tears perfectly. It’s silent. She’s not snivelling or anything, she just shakes her head in tight swivels, biting her inner cheek. “It’s just— it’s just not worth that.”
“How can I fix it?” Maybe Syd will have a better answer than Richie did, something a little more actionable. She finally flits her gaze from the light down to Carmen, where he sits.
“Can you stay after close?”
“—Nobody in this motherfucking city knows transit etiquette— Why does everyone get on and go ‘wow I love standing in the walkway’— I’m so— There was so much seating just ahead of the blockage, Mikey, I’m so pressed, I’m literally—” You massage your brows, finishing up your rant from this morning’s commute. “I can’t. I can’t.”
“If you weren’t a little passenger princess, this wouldn’t be a problem, Chippy.” “I have my fucking license! I just don’t have a car!” “Then buy one!” “With who’s money!?” “Mine?”
A terrible running joke, from Mikey, is telling you to spend his money— The money he gets from staying sober. The money he’s saving for The Bear. The reason why he thinks this is funny, is because you have no fucking idea where he’s been putting it. But you know he hasn’t spent it, so that’s all that really matters.
You just huff, leaning back against the wall of his office as you watch him work, arms crossed and cringing as he futzes with the wiring. “You’re going to light us up like a Roman fucking candle.”
“It’s Jewish lightning—” “Top twenty-thousand reasons we do not say that— Number One—” “It’s gonna work! Just trust me!”
Mikey’s office looks a lot more lively, lately. He never cleans up the mugs of coffee you give him, every morning. He says it’s his way of tracking which flavour is his favourite, since you’re always switching up. It will never change from the chai spiced blend, and you both know that. It’d be more accurate of him to say he likes the sticky notes you tack on to each mug, saying you love him and saying he needs to keep going.
“I could fix it, y’know.” At that, Mikey turns away from his distressing handiwork to look at you.
“I know. But I wanna prove I can, too.”
That hits you right in the chest. You want to tell Mikey that he never has to prove anything, with you; never has to lift a goddamn finger. But he would hate to hear that. “Okay.”
You hear from outside the office, the back door opening. “Child incoming, no expletives please!”
“What the fuck is an expletive?” Mikey asks you, whispering.
You whisper back, leaning forward off the wall to close in on him. “It’s what you just did.”
Eva runs in, the way that kids do— The way they kinda waddle. Immediately up to you and Mikey. Uncle Mike and Aunty Chip, she calls you both. Sometimes Uncle Jack— Because she hasn’t completely grasped the concept of gender yet— Good, no one should.
“Watch!” You have yet to even say hi, before she immediately attempts to do a cartwheel in the middle of this very small office.
“Good job, Evie!” You clap, after she just barely lands safely on her shins.
She nods, “Can you do that?”
“Honestly? I don’t think I can.” You look up from her to Mikey. “Can you?”
“Can I cartwheel?” He stumbles back, slapping his hand over his chest. Gutted. “Can I cartwheel? Eve— She doesn’t think I can cartwheel.”
“Insane, Uncle.”
“Not what I said!” You can’t hold back your laughter, what a shining this kid has taken to her dad. “I’d love to see it, I really would!”
Mikey just shakes his head, kissing his teeth. How dare you offend his honour, in this way? This forty-two year old man can absolutely cartwheel with the best of them. In five minutes he definitely isn’t gonna eat shit in the dining room of his restaurant. He pats Eva on the shoulder. “You go with your dad and clear out some tables out front, I’m gonna need space.”
“You’re gonna break your neck, Mike.” Richie chimes in, standing in the doorway now, waiting for Eva to return to him. “I don’t wanna plan your funeral.”
“Please, you would plan a terrible funeral.” “That’s bull—”
“Expletive!” You cover Eva’s ears. She just laughs, looking up at you with that cute and bizarre blank kid stare. What a little patoot.
Richie looks to you, forgetting the bit for a moment, “Y'need a grocery run, tonight?”
You nod, removing your hands from Eva, but then she holds them there. Goddamnit, kids are an awful idea but she's fucking cute. “Pay you gas money in the form of Wendy's?”
“Marone!” Richie exclaims, poorly, grabbing your face by the chin and top of your head to kiss your cheek just short of a million times. “The perfect woman—”
“Not Italian!” is the synchronous reply from you and Mikey.
Richie rolls his eyes, “Not Italian— Fu—”
Eva interrupts him, taking as much as a shining to you as she does her father. “Exp—Expultive!” She looks at you for approval and you nod in delight.
“Just go set up front, would ‘ya?” Mikey brushes Rich off, the man just rolls his eyes, picking up his daughter from you to fly her off like an airplane.
“Let's set the stage for your Uncle’s neck injury, sweets. Bwwwwrrr—” Richie makes good airplane noises. Richie’s a good dad. You will never find a good time to tell him this. You watch Mikey’s back flex, as he cracks back into the hole of wires in the wall. He's been working hard on a lot of little things lately.
You will not realize he is trying to make things clean and square, until it is too late. Right now, you’re just happy, because, “You’re already at three weeks again, and you haven’t even noticed.”
“Oh, I fucking noticed.” He doesn’t face you, when he says it, but it’s with a hearty chuckle. He’s noticed it violently, he’s just getting very good at the first month, now— Well acquainted with the burn out. “But now there’s money on the line, I can’t lose.”
It’s not that money’s on the line. It’s that his brother is on the line now. And Mikey couldn’t do this for himself— but the guy could do it for his brother. So he’ll just be the guy, that’s what the guy’s do. Six hours, same team. Nine weeks, Mikey, come on.
“Well you’re doing good, I’m proud of you.”
“You believe in me?” He says it like he doubts your conviction. You nearly punch him in the back of the head.
“Of course I believe in you.”
Mikey bites his inner cheek, though you can’t see his face. “...Why are we keeping the candles?”
Ah. You’ve still got the one and two candles in his drawer with a lighter, ready for the next cupcake. They’re slowly but surely melting with each reset, eventually they’ll be incomprehensible. Do you believe in me? If you do, why are you saving them? Do you think we’ll need them? That’s what Mikey’s asking. You scoff.
“You’re so stupid.” “What the— I confide in you and I get this—”
You interrupt him, arms crossed. “One day, one week, one month, one year, fuckin— When we get to double digits? Ten months? One decade?”
He’s mum, at that. You add. “We’re getting our fucking mileage out of these candles, Mikey. I believe in you.” You think Mikey has a future, still. Mikey knows he doesn’t. He changes the subject because if he doesn’t, he’ll tell you everything and you will stop it.
“I want you to start talking to Carmen, when he comes back.” You should’ve asked Mikey why he was so certain Carmen would be coming back. But you weren’t smart enough.
“What the fuck?” You snort. “Okay, out of literally nowhere—” “You’d like him.”
“He sounds very nice.” “He’s not. He’s a—” “Ball buster, yes, you’ve told me.” “He’d like you.” “Why?” “Cause you’re you.”
“Wow, pretty inarguable there.” You can only smile, unable to see the wheels turn in Michael’s head. “Guess we’ll be besties.”
“I meant talk like talk—” “Are you trying to hook me up right now?” “He’s a virgin, so it’s definitely not a good deal for you—” “And— And why are we talking about your brother's sex life— Did we already explode and this is hell?” “I just want you to be prepared for what you’re getting into, he gets performance anxiety so—” “Mikey!”
“You’ll talk to him?” Mikey turns away from the wall, wanting you to look him in the eyes and promise him.
You shake your head and roll your eyes, but stick a hand out for the Berzatto to shake. “Yes, Bear, I’ll talk to your virgin Michelin star ranked brother.”
“Thank you! I ask for so little.”
After close, after everyone but Carmen, Sydney, and Richie leave, the three make plans to meet in Michael’s office. Carmen will go in ahead to hide your folder because he doesn’t want to see it himself and he absolutely doesn’t want anyone else to see it. Even if one of them could very well explain it, because he’s fucking in them. It’s fine. He looks at your wrapped up painting in the corner of his office. Carmen considers for what feels like a decade, whether or not he should open it. But he hasn’t earned a gift from you, so he doesn’t— Not for now, at least. He hasn’t earned your art right now.
Underneath your ICE folder is his notepad— The one he was scribbling recipes for his Exec into, the one he scribbled your recipe into, and underneath all that torn up paper— His list, from this morning. The non-negotiable rules he wanted— Wants? To add to The Bear. There’s twenty-seven. Half of them are spelt wrong as he wrote them while absolutely losing his shit, this morning. This list did not go over well, when it was proposed during family, at two in the afternoon. Some of these could still work though, right? At least the technique and the boxes and the—
Richie comes in, not knocking, and immediately spots the list. “Oh good.” He grabs the notepad and rips off the twenty seven points. Leaving only the title, NON-NEGOTIABLES.
“Come the fuck on—” Says Carmen. Richie rolls his eyes, tossing the list onto the desk. Richie can tear him and his stupid fucking list a new one another time— Richie and Carmen can sort out their own part of the fight in a week, when they take a twelve hour road trip. Right now though, they are both completely focused on you.
Sydney comes in with two labelled deli containers of coke. Time codes and everything, she can't turn it off. She hands one to Rich, the other one is for herself. That’s fine, soda on Carmen’s shredded throat really wouldn’t be great right now anyways. She takes a sip, looking over Carm's shoulder. “Oh, we’re doing a real list, now?”
Carmen just sighs, letting the dig go, because he deserves it. He clicks his pen, sitting down, ready to write, without hesitation. “Go.”
Richie leads, “You need to fucking relax.”
“Lay off her,” Sydney waves her hand over her neck. “Leave her the fuck alone, for like a week, minimum.”
“No— What? No— You should call her like now—” “Absolutely not the right move—” “Solve it hard and fast—” “Why hard—?”
“I’m just gonna wait.” Carmen decides, typically Syd is the right one, anyways. Plus if he hears your voice right now he might throw up and he doesn’t have your tums, anymore. “Next?”
“An exorcism.” Richie doesn’t laugh, when he says it. “Also read fuckin’ Runnin’ on Empty— By Doctor Webb.”
The two cooks just look at him, like Richie’s grown five thousand heads. He groans before they even say anything. “I’m fuckin’ well read, shut the fuck up— It’s—” He snaps his fingers, pointing to Carmen’s list, “It’s an audiobook, too, on fuckin’ Spotify— Listen to that shit on your commute you have no excuse.”
“Yes, Chef.” Carmen writes it down, he also writes down under things to look into, catastrophizing, while he’s at it. Richie watches over his shoulder, and adds, “Look into sublimation and behavourial dysfunction.”
Syd’s still reeling over the sudden character growth. “You need to relax with the self-help books.”
“Yeah, well you need to read Mark Wolynn’s ‘It Didn’t Start With You.’” Richie’s got lists of books now, instead of zingers. They somehow hit harder.
She’s got no come back for that other than a surprised pout and nod, taking her own phone out to write it down. “Yes, Chef.”
Carmen pipes in, not looking up from his list of to dos “Should I also read that one—” “Yes.” “Heard, Chef. Next?”
“It cannot be on Tony to be your fucking punching bag. If you’re tweaking— Keep that shit between you and your therapist—” Syd switches from her notes app to search, “We’re finding you a fuckin’ therapist.”
“Is that covered in our contract?” Didn’t he write it? Carmen doesn’t know.
“Doesn’t matter. Also I don’t know, but doesn’t matter.” Syd hasn’t read it yet. She also doesn’t know.
You are worth a couple out of pocket fees. Well, more importantly, Carmen is worth a couple out of pocket fees— Well, alright, he’ll discuss his weaknesses of self-prioritization with the therapist.
Before Carmen can even say next, Richie adds. “Also you smell like shit.” The hair gel is pungent in a bad way.
And before he can defend himself, Sydney adds, not looking up from her phone, “We’re going to fuckin’ Kohl’s after this and we’re getting you a skincare— And haircare— routine. You’re seconds away from breaking out, I bet you use fuckin’ Palmolive dish soap.”
“Well— I’ve been using Tony’s, actually—” “We know.” It’s a completely synchronized interruption.
“It’s been her signature scent, since highschool.” “Who do you think took her grocery shopping when she didn’t have a car?” “I thought I was having a flashback everytime you walked by in the kitchen, this past week.” “You should go back to it.”
“I know. I will.” He’s got every intention of re-upping on your shampoo and conditioner, when he’s taken on a shopping spree to get his shit together. Hopefully you won’t mind him copying you. “No more Five in One.”
“You’ve been using fucking five in one!?”
Carmen thought, yesterday, naively, that he would do right by you on Friday. He didn’t, he did the very opposite— But even if he did, that’s weak shit. Carmen’s not gonna do right by you for just one single fucking day. Carmen’s gonna do right by you, for the rest of his life. The three get to well over twenty seven points, and he has every intention of showing up to it. He’s gonna be your man, and he’s going to fucking earn that title. He’s going to prove it.
“Okay. So can you tell me what happened on February 22nd?” She’s a shit therapist. You’re imagining both you and her dead in your head. You’ve been imagining a lot of people dead in your head, for the last two weeks. Every time your dad comes to check on you, you imagine that he’s a ghost.
You imagine having a passing conversation with someone, maybe catching up with Syd, one day. And she’ll ask you ‘Meet any interesting people?’ and you’ll say ‘Yeah. But he killed himself.’ That’s gonna suck. You didn’t prepare for that one. So you need to prepare now. Look at all of your friends and family, and imagine they are dead— And introduce them as such. ‘That’s my friend Richie, he died.’ Make it hurt now, so it doesn’t hurt then.
You didn’t prepare enough. Didn’t do enough. Countless little mistakes and moments you missed. The therapist is looking at you, oh right, it’s your turn to talk again. You’ve told her all these cute little stories but now she wants to hear how the sad shit went. Or maybe it was all sad shit. Maybe it’s all coated in a film of grief, now.
You’ll tell her that Mikey was very thorough, with his plan that you didn’t know about. He waited until he thought you were out of the city— When he knew you’d be out of the city. When your sister in law delivered your nephew and you went to Oak Park to visit.
Just days before, you celebrated three months of sobriety with him and Richie— You’ll tell the therapist, excitedly, that this was his longest streak so far, it took him a year to reach three months— It was a big fucking deal. You were beaming all day. You didn’t realize, however, that days after Uncle Jimmy had made his deal with you two, that Mikey did the math. Figured out exactly how many weeks he’d have to be sober, to get three-hundred grand.
Thirty weeks. Roughly seven months and two weeks. He did it. Not in sequence, but he did it. You’re still not sure where that money is. Uncle isn’t either. Maybe Carmen will figure it out. It’s meant for him anyways. You’ll say that Carmen will figure it out in such a way that she asks— “And do you hold animosity? Towards his younger brother?”
You look at her like she’s a psycho, because she is. Replying incredulously, “I don’t fucking know him.”
‘My best friend Michael is dead.’ ‘My best friend, Mikey, is dead.’ Doesn’t sound right. Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue.
“Do you wish you did?”
“I really couldn’t say I give a shit, ma’am. Can I tell you about the guy I did know, though?”
She nods, you roll the fuck on. You tell her that the morning after you got to your brother’s place— February 22nd, you all decided instead of staying for the week, as you’d planned, as Mikey planned, you’d instead go home early. Because as much as you wanted to be helpful, having more people in the house was stressing the new mom the fuck out. Understandable. So you took a train back to Chicago early.
You got home, and you found that you’d gotten some mail, waiting for you on the floor, shoved through the mail slot of your door. Bill, bill, invoice, spam, coupons, handwritten envelope— Ah. Mikey’s handwriting. A deep unsettling feeling burrowed its way into you. It just says For Chip. There’s no letter inside. No. There’s a debit card, his, of your joint bank account, there’s a key, yours, a copy of your key to this apartment, and a necklace, his— With his three month sobriety chip hanging off of it.
You call him, immediately. He doesn’t answer the first time. You call him again. He answers on the last possible ring.
The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life— Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call with an old friend.
“Yo, Ice-y!” A classic nickname, reserved purely for phone calls with Mikey. Because in his phone, you’re 0ICEChip, so you’ll show up at the top of his contact list, if he’s ever found unresponsive. Typically a pro-tip reserved for those in hospice care.
You don’t entertain him. “Where are you?”
“I’m just out for a walk, sweetheart.” “Shut the fuck up out for a walk— Where the fuck are you?”
He hums at your snarky tone. “Nephew didn’t take a liking to you?” “I came home early.”
The silence is long, and you can hear the heavy wind coming through his phone. He’s outside. He’s somewhere outside. It’s a cold night. It’s usually not this cold at the end of February, but it really fucking came down, this morning.
“Oh.”
“Why did you leave this shit at my door? Where are you?” You thought of 0ICE but you didn’t think to have him turn his location on? Fucking idiot. Fucking idiot. You didn’t do enough. ‘My friend, Bear, is dead.’ You didn’t prepare enough. “Bear, c’mon, what’s going on? I told you, if we need to reset, it’s two steps forward, one step back, it’s okay—”
“It’s not.” “It is! We will get there!” “I’m not. You’re gonna get there, I’m not.” “That’s not true!” “I love you but we both know this was a pipe dream.”
“Mikey—”
“Chip, I’m not going anywhere. You’re— You’re fucking going somewhere. I can’t— I can’t let— We both know where I’m going and it’s nowhere you should begin to be.”
“You don’t get to make that choice for me. You don’t get to make that call. I decide what I bet on— Mikey, where are you?” You’re walking out of your place, you hadn’t even closed the door before leaving again.
Fucking idiot, you should’ve bought a car. How are you supposed to get to him on foot and train? Fucking idiot. The snow is beating down, the wind is cutting into your face. ‘My best friend died on February 22nd. On the State Street Bridge.’— Why didn’t you get a fucking car? You didn’t do enough. You can’t remember any of your training, right now. What are you supposed to say? “Are you using?”
“No. No. I’m— This is me, Chip.” “No it’s fucking not, Mikey! Shut the fuck up, where are you!?”
“I love you, I didn’t want this to be— I-I—I’m not killing myself, Chip.”
“You’re not?”
You shouldn’t have believed him. You should’ve just kept walking. You would’ve figured out where he was, eventually. You should’ve called the coast guard, or some shit. Should’ve just figured it out.
“I’m not. I’m— I’m okay, I’m really just going for a walk— I-I just— I had a… I— I don’t want you to be my sponsor anymore. That’s it.” It made sense. He didn't want you to feel hurt, so he was hesitant. It made sense.
“Why?”
“Cause you’re a kid, and I can’t make you responsible for what I do.”
“I’m not a kid.” “To me, you are.” “Then we’ll find you someone else.” “Yeah, okay.”
You pause, for a good bit, listening to the shakiness of his breath. “You’re cold, Mikey.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re just cold.” That’s all that’s wrong. He’s just cold and he doesn't want you to be his sponsor anymore. “Go inside, soon. Come home.”
“I will.”
Mikey always had that way of making you think everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t. “Okay.”
“I want you to start treating our joint like an advanced payment, by the way. A million things are always fucking breaking at The Beef, there’s no point in wiring all the time.”
Mikey wants this to be clean and square, too. Because he couldn’t figure out the wiring by himself— He needs to make sure his baby brother is taken care of, he needs to make sure his restaurant is taken care of, he needs to make sure that you have something to do because Michael fucking saw you.
“Yeah, that makes sense.” You nod to no one. “I think your toilets fucked, speaking of.” You laugh, everything’s okay. There’s a long silence, and you think he’s hung up.
“Good. Okay— You should— You should come fix it, sometime soon… Love you, Chip.”
“Love you, Bear.”
You will tell your therapist that after that phone call, you went back inside, cleaned yourself up, unpacked unused toiletries, changed out of your borrowed brother’s sweats into your nice pajamas, because Mikey said he would come home. He said he would come home and you believed him because he never lied to you before. You set up the things he left for you in your handmade clay dish tray; so he can take them back. Just because you’re not his sponsor, doesn’t mean he shouldn’t keep his chips.
You will tell your therapist that you fell asleep on the couch, waiting for Michael. You will tell her you woke up to a phone call from Richie, and all he said, wavering, was, “You should come over.” Richie doesn’t ask things. Richie will always say, come over. You don’t know why that’s the signal you get, since you seemingly must have missed so many other obvious signs, but you know then that your— Your— Your best— Fuck, the knots are fucking debilitating, fuck fuck fuck.
You will not come over. You will walk, in the cold, to your dad’s place. You will not bring anything with you. You will stay there and rot for two weeks, as will everything in your apartment. He will force you to go to this several hour long therapy appointment because he can’t keep watching you do this, and you will resent the woman you are telling all this.
You will continue to see her, for five more sessions, because the first six are covered under your insurance. She will help in a lot of ways, she will hurt in others.
Wells-Fargo will ask if you want to close your account. You don’t want to, but it’ll accrue monthly banking fees, so you take the money out and close it. You buy a shitty maroon 2004 Dodge Intrepid off Facebook Marketplace with the two and a half grand. It barely functions as a car. But it will drive. The next time someone needs you. You can drive. Next time you’ll think of everything, next time you won’t fail.
You stop paying the phone bill, for your business line. It goes defunct. You just don’t think you should be trusted to be helpful, for the next little while. You will blame your father for this, when people ask about it.
On the day of his funeral, you will go. You will go, and you will sit on the curb across from the church, and you will not go inside. It's just not possible. You will buy a pork chop-cheese sandwich from a bodega nearby and you will eat it on that curb and it’s only then, after shoving it down for so long, that you will scream and cry.
You will leave before anyone sees you, and you will go to State Street Bridge, and you will set up a small vigil. You will finnick with the candles and the flowers until you feel they are perfect. They will never get perfect. You just don’t want to leave. You have a tendency to do that.
You will stare at the little stuffed bear, the roses, the picture frame of him, and you will finally say it aloud.
“My best friend, Mikey, died.”
When Carmen shows up, two hours later, not honestly that long after you finally left, he will add a bouquet and a prayer candle. He will readjust all of your work, to his preference, and then readjust it again and again and again— and he will finally say it aloud.
“My brother, Mikey, shot himself.”
No matter how you say it, it won’t roll off the tongue.
And about thirty-nine weeks from that day, you will be in New York, at a wedding, talking with the virgin Michelin star ranked brother, as you promised.
You will have abandoned your bar after making confessions under the counter, and have instead co-opted the single stall gender-neutral bathroom to have ample time and space to tell each other everything you’ve told your therapists. Even now, neither of you can get the words to roll off the tongue.
But Carmen manages to make “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry— I will never be able to surmise, how sorry—” roll off well enough. Alas, he’s interrupted, by a knock on the gender-neutral bathroom door, made by the only fuckers that knows you two are in here.
“Guys I— Guys I don’t know how to run bar, and I don’t think I should’ve been trusted, with this.”
Carmen will not look away from your bleary-eyed face, he will not break his focus even when you laugh at the sudden tension break. He will just tell the Faks to fuck off and figure it out.
“I’m gonna fix it.” Carmen will tell you, and you will nod and say, “I will too.”
Because it’s not just on one of you, anymore. It can be both. The shared burden. The shared grief. No more fucking shoes, because it's all out now.
It’s not negotiable.
I love when tumblr drafts fully start to lag and my macbook lights on fire because the post is too fucking long. I have so much to say about this chapter but I think I will just make a separate post entirely about this. Because I’m. I’m really proud tbh not to toot my own horn but I think I kind of maybe a little bit ate with this one.
Fun fact, that you may or may not believe: The Carmen scenes? Not planned. Fully did not plan to do any of that. This was going to be entirely Mikey flashbacks, originally— There might’ve ended up being more honestly, if I didn’t add Carmen, but after Something to Do when I started writing I was like,,, these cats aren’t cooking, Carmen’s side is missing a second beat before the third. And so, here it is.
I know everyone was expecting a depression week for Carmen— And to be fair, I also kind of was. But I then thought, nah. They’d done too much work, and I don’t think Rich/Syd would allow him to wallow. Like get your shit together, not for you, for her. Ugh.
Speaking of Rich and Syd— FUCK man my heart. The way their scenes from the past and present meshed together in such a deeply painful way I’m sooo SICK WITH IT!!! WHAT DID YOU THINK?!?!! Just fuckin— The way Tony was too scared to reach out to Syd but it’s SO FUCKING OBVIOUS that Syd was on the other side of Chicago thinking the exact same shit i’m SO SICK!!!!! I’M HACKING UP A LUNG HERE!!
Anyways it’s my birthday send me well wishes and an essay on what you thought I’d love to hear it. I know this was a tough one. Thank you for getting through it with me lmao. Tag list! Hope I didn’t forget anyone, pwease note i ownwee add pweople who swend theiw twoughts— It also may or may not hurt my feelings when people don’t read this text at the bottom. It might. It might a lot.
@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @sharkluver @fridavacado @hoetel-manager @mrs-perfectly-fine
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#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen x reader#carmy berzatto#mikey berzatto#michael berzatto#carmen x oc#carmy x reader#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#the bear#the bear hulu#the bear fx
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𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓾𝓹
— ( do note this ask was sent before my rules post was out but ill let it pass bcz it doesnt break any rules )
ah hello ! !! this is the first time im writing for jingyuan sama ..! hopefully its to your liking anon .. <:D tho i did self indulge a lil much on this ... hopefully you still like it x_x
also , yes .! i love ryona . i dig it a lot .. please dont b scared to req anything with dark themes .. i will be cheering you on !
pair — reader x jing yuan
wc — ~1k
contains — sub bottom char, dom top reader, established relationship, gn reader, possessive reader, jealousy, (false) cheating suspicions, reader is kinda fucked up in the head, size difference (smaller reader), thigh humping, dry humping, reader is pretty forceful
you couldn’t stand it.
the way he would ignore you sometimes, when you two just wouldn’t be able to have some pda for the sake of his reputation. it pissed you off.
you want to love him! show him off, maybe. hug him, kiss him, hold his hand.. all in public. but you can’t — because he has a reputation to uphold here. and what made you more mad is the fact you’d hear your own colleagues talk about him. how they want to get with him.
what pissed you off the most about today, though? you heard someone spreading rumors. dating rumors. not between you and jing yuan, no. (you would’ve appreciated that, really) it was between him and some other woman — one that he’s been working with for a good while.
you clicked your tongue, entering his office. even just from your face it was obvious you were in a horrible mood.
“oh?” he started, with that usual lazy smile of his — “my dear, something on your mind?”
he shifted in his seat, adjusting himself so you could sit yourself beside him — which, you do — letting out a tired sigh. “rumours about you again, love.” you respond.
“mm, it’s the one with that woman, i assume?”
you click your tongue again. just hearing anything related to her set you off — c’mon, now.. it’s not like they’re actually together.. your dearest would never, ever betray you in such a way.
but you see the way that woman was — how she was smiling and all. laughing those rumors off, all while clearly enjoying the attention she got. it disgusts you. it worsens your mood more and more as you thought about it.
the general could sense your frustration — almost as if he read your mind. his expression softened a little bit, this time looking at you. watching you biting on your nail, whilst the other hand was balled into a fist, resting on your thigh.
“hey,” you looked back at him. the frustration was clear in your eyes. even you, yourself didn’t get it. what were you so angry about…? you can’t help but take it out on him. “you love me, right, jing yuan?”
“of course I do.” he replies — it’s short. it’s obvious. but in your messed up little head, it felt like nothing but a lie.
“prove it.”
“wha–?”
“prove it, i said.” you lean into him, a hand against his stomach. the gold part of his belt felt cool against your palm. for a second, it gives you shivers.
“here..?” the general’s voice was filled with uncertainty. “the door is still unlo–”
“that doesn’t matter.” you interrupt, “they’re not allowed to come in, right? locked or not. just tell them to leave if someone knocks. simple.”
jing yuan gulped down, eyeing the door once more before giving in — fumbling with his belt. slowly but surely getting that corset-like piece of armor loose and discarding it completely.
he’s so obedient whenever you were mad…
“c’mere.” you pat on your thigh, inviting him to sit on it — he does, obeying you. you were upset, he didn’t want your mood to go even lower. though, due to jing yuan being bigger than you, he was quite hesitant on putting his entire weight — he knows he’s quite heavy.. but you insist he sits down properly.
he felt shy all of a sudden — putting his hands on your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. you didn’t know if this shyness was a result of the position, or the fact the door was very much unlocked — maybe both.
you had a hand on his lower back, as if inviting for the white-haired general — your free hand decided to run through his hair. it’s so soft… how could you not?
jing yuan lets out a whimper, hips moving on his own. slowly but surely running them up and down your thigh. his own legs shaking. you slip your hand into the side of his pants — feeling around his waist. he jolts at your cold hands, letting out a small gasp. those hands of yours continue to trace through his body, feeling his breath grow a little faster. feeling all over his back, his hips, his waist, him. just him.
you wanted to escalate this, though, you heard something. something he feared. a knock at the door.
“jing yuan, sir?”
a voice is heard, calling to the general. you could clearly hear his breath hitch. “a– ah.. who—nnh–!”
those hands of yours continued to tease him. featherlight touches all over his body, teasing him by slipping your hands into his pants every now and then — watching your darling general explain why the person couldn’t come in — stuttering on his words, trying to reason with them..
you felt mean today. you were in a shitty mood, after all.
he lets out a sigh of release when they finally decide to go — whoever that was leaving his office alone for another time. finally, he gets to calm down.
“i love you.” you whisper into his ear suddenly, “you love me too, right? you wouldn’t go for that woman, right? right?”
why did you doubt him, even?
you don’t know, nor did you care. all you wanted to hear was an ‘i love you, too’ from the general.. your general.
his weight was kind of crushing you.. but you didn’t mind it much. you pressed a kiss onto his neck, sucking into it to form a hickey. then another… and another. it didn’t take too long for his entire neck to be covered by them. you loved it.. marking him up as yours (as if wasn’t already..)
“m’gonna–” his grinding was growing a bit more desperate — damn, already?
“go on. show me how much you love me.” — those words made him whimper, closing his eyes. you pulled on his hair, yanking his head so jing yuan was looking at you — grabbing his face with one of your hands and inviting him into a messy kiss — tongue being forcefully shoved into his mouth.
“i love you, i love you, i love you.. mmMH—!” he said between eager gasps, feeling his orgasm washing over him. you could, too — that warm feeling on your thigh.
he wraps his big arms around you, moans being muffled by the kiss. he just couldn’t get enough, can he? he wouldn’t even care anymore if someone came in and saw him this way. neither did you. at least they’d know you were his.
“i love you, darling. please ruin me..”
hsr masterlist ♥︎
#♱ library of ruins .#♱ rabbit hole .#✸ astral express .#✸ cloud knights .#✦ jing yuan .#hsr#hsr smut#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#sub hsr#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#sub jing yuan#dom reader#sub character
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The strongest star (platonic)
This is determination from Whitebeard’s point of view when y/n met him and his crew. I decided to make this to flesh out my first post and also thought it would be fun since y/n is kinda an unreliable narrator in their own way due to forgetting a lot of details and events.
Master-list for the series here
Tag list: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck
for as long as Edward Newgate could remember, he wanted a family
As unconventional as it had seemed he had always dreamed of a family of his own
That was his dream that led him to the sea all those years ago
The freedom to pursue and accomplish this with the oceans cruel and caring waves
He’s old now, a man accomplished and still having his family grow
So when Marco brings a small child aboard Newgate can’t help but be a bit giddy
It’s been years since the Moby dick had such a young one aboard its old planks
He remembers like yesterday it once did
Children he found bruised and starved, cold and alone with eyes begging for warmth and comfort despite how scared they were
He was once like that, and he swore he’d not abandon those kids like others did for him
Those children grew up now to be some of his many kids
Years heavy on them as they are for him
He watched them grow from scared to proud and strong
And most of all he watched them grow to be happy with the family harboured on a couple planks of wood on the high sea
Each night rocked by the waves with full bellies and a smile on their faces
So it’s safe to say he is hopeful when Marco marches up, carrying a small child of about 10?
The youngest on the ship as of now was Ace and a few from the spade pirates that assimilated to his crew
But he hadn’t raised them, Moreso taken them in and not having the opportunity to truly nurture them in the way he had wanted
They were teens, a fraction of their lives already lived which meant he missed out on significant moments of it
He hadn’t been able to meet Ace’s brothers or be sure to in-still in him that he’s loved
Hadn’t been able to convince spade that he was more than what everyone in his home thought of him
As an old nostalgic man Newgate missed the feeling of being there for something important like that again
And he thought for a moment he could have that again until he noticed your eyes
He’s seen the terrified, angry and hopeless that looked up at him once before
Most of his sons whom he took under his wing had a variation of that when meeting him
But yours are….something else
He’s reminded of the night sky
A sight that he’s been more than familiar with his entire life as he looked to the stars and wished for people to call home
Despite just being eyes he sees more
Bleak empty darkness, swirling with the unknown with the distant twinkling flecks of stars
They are all encompassing and unassuming at the same time
Pits of dullness that shows the withered age that only a seasoned sailor could have amongst the cruel waves
A loss of innocence and all that a child should have
Yet at the same time somehow retains some of it despite it all
It’s conflicting and hypocritical all at the same time yet it’s there all the same
Those eyes stare up at him, no fear but instead apprehension fills its place
If nothing before could have convinced him that he wanted you apart of his family than this did
But he’s known from the moment you stepped foot on this ship he wanted you to have a home here either way
On the Moby dick you start off as a quiet presence that later grows into something bigger
Perhaps even bigger than yourself as the his sons and daughters seek out your company like moths to a flame
He can’t exactly blame them, not when he himself wants so desperately to grasp and hold that light
But he sees your apprehension when around him
The way in which you try to skirt around his presence as best as possible
Something you do exceedingly well
So Edward for your sake decides to take a seat back and watch what happens
Waits to see you ease up on your own time
God knows the amount of patience he has from dealing with Roger all those years ago and his rowdy kids
So he knows when to back down and let the stage set itself
Watch the act before his role is to come
And Edward does exactly that
He watches and waits
Eddie watches as you draw the crew in like a gravitational pull
It’s slow at first
Your cautious but you let your guard down
At first it’s with Marco
Being the one to take you onboard he decides that your his responsibility and take to it like the mother hen that he is
Seeing you inured stumbling out an alleyway really hit him hard
Perhaps harder than you had even noticed
It gets worse especially after you seem to brush off your injuries
He hovers around you a lot under the excuse of checking your wounds but you seem to know better
You always seem to know better
But either way you don’t say anything and simply grumble a bit about him
Moreso out of annoyance than actual disdain
But either or, Whitebeard watches as his first commander stays by your side
Eventually getting you to drop some of your barriers ever so slightly
Like the chipping in a wall that would lead to a crack
You talk and Marco listens
As do others who eventually join in on listening to some of your stories as you sit between the rails of the railing
Feet dangling through the gaps and swaying back and fourth as you tell stories
Everyone listens
Some even stop in their trail just trying to hear what you tell Marco as he similar sits beside you
Clawed feet of his half Phoenix form and firey blue wings tinged in gold crackling gently
The real breakdown comes when he offers to fly you around
Everyone can see something in you ignite at that
Genuine excitement only caused by child-like wonder
It’s one of the only times on your stay he had seen it
The child buried beneath whatever had happened to you peaking out from the brush
This was a good sign
One that Edward is glad to see himself as you soar with Marco
Blue flames giving you warmth even with the cold harsh winds
When you eventually land once more Edward can’t help but smile at the surpassingly content expression painting your face
That crack in your defence grows
The next to chip away at that metaphorical wall is Thatch
The cook quickly making his ways into your good graces when he has you help about in his kitchen
You seemingly can’t really stay still, mind always racing and wanting to do something
Never taking the time to relax
Thatch says you take to tasks quickly, finishing as quick as you started much to his surprise and exasperation
Whitebeard laughed at that at the time
So you were quick to pick up things
Knowing tasks like the back of your hand no matter how big or small
He’s also seen it, when you gave some of his sons tips in raising the sails or properly cleaning the deck quicker
Thatch won’t admit it to anyone but himself but Whitebeard knows he cooks more food for you than he’d usually would for someone on the ship
Even when Ace or Teach hound him for more food he angrily shoves them off
Then filling your plate once more
Thatch is the one who tells him of the time you cried eating his meals
Mumbling that it reminded you of her
Your mom
Apparently you don’t remember her anymore
Just the vaguest scent of her meals and a glimmer of a smile she would give when cooking
It….sticks with Eddy more than he’d like to admit
Forgetting was an unfortunate thing that came with time
Whitebeard considered himself lucky in not forgetting much over his years
He still remembers the loneliness of his childhood
The bloodshed and alienation on Rocks’s crew
Going off to make his family after the god valley incident
Recruiting his many sons
Finding some cold and alone while others sought him out as a father
Remembers when he first met the idiot he’d call a rival
How Oden would eventually become his little brother and hearing years later of his death by Kaido
The guilt still weighing on his shoulders even now
So in every sense of the word Eddy considers himself lucky in being able to remember
But you don’t have that same privilege
Your memory fraught with missing pieces
Leaving you trailing off for a moment as you regal a story that leaves everyone on deck listening intently
They all notice that you stare off quite often while doing something
Your mind wandering to whatever is it that your thinking of
Sometimes you even mumble to yourself
Though Eddy is never close enough to hear the mumbles others sometimes mention them to him
Names and places
Dates and times
Events and descriptions
But one thing brought up is something that raises his eyebrow
Things only the Roger pirates could’ve know or seen
He already suspected something when seeing the coat draped across your shoulders
You may think your slick in thinking he didn’t recognize that old thing but Eddie knows better
He’d known Roger far too long and arduously to not recognize his gaudy red coat (hypocrite a voice in the void cry’s out)
When his frien….rival was executed he had noticed the coat he wore was different
A darker red and cheaper material
But at the time he gave no thought to it
To wrapped up in a certain kind of grief to really think twice
But now that coat is on your shoulders
Pristine rose red contrasted with the cyan blue of your bandana and cloth sash
You couldn’t have known Roger, your too young to do so
Plus that idiot had two apprentices not three
So that option was x’d out the list
As him and his commanders talked
But you being a kid of one of his members was certainly a possibility
And the only one Edward could ever imagine Roger giving his coat to was Rayleigh and he had essentially dropped off the map years ago
So the conclusion that your maybe Rayleigh’s kid and that he was potentially dead was the conclusion drawn
It’s safe to say that it is something that weighs on not only his commanders mind but also Edwards
Because of the similar situation to Ace
The only other person you had tried to avoid on this crew for some reason
But maybe you somehow knew of his origin and that’s why? But even that seemed unlikely
Roger could keep his lips shut when the situation called for it
Something that he now praised his dead friend for
But on the topic of Ace…it was odd
You avoided Ace like the plague
Whitebeard understood why you avoided him, the giant who was named the strongest man in the world and feared in all blues
But Ace? He was practically a puppy vying for your attention after seeing you interact with literally everyone but him
He’d never thought he’d see his son who’d used to be like a snippy stray dog now practically begging for attention
But here he was
Well, more like they were since literally everyone else on ship it’s finding this all too hilarious
But also kinda sad
It’s not like they’d force you to get along with him if there had been a solid reason
But seemingly there was none
You just avoided him for whatever reason
Jittering in discomfort and leaving when you saw his signature orange hat
And they’d thought it would remain like this
But like all else Whitebeard sees things change
(Just as he saw the sea change when Roger died and ushered a new era)
The final piece to break down that barrier of yours is Ace
The one besides Whitebeard himself you had been the most barred against
It starts with a small conversation
And then on deck he sees both you and ace talk more
And more
And eventually Ace is placing you on his shoulders with his hat on your head
Or taking you out on striker as the smaller boat races around the Moby Dick
It’s a sight for sore eyes
Ace once again lighting up like a bright flame
The same happiness restrained for when talking of his brothers
Or of that person who had given him the small charm he covets as if it were the greatest treasure
Something he had been initially teased for until revealing its story
The small worn down little sun dangling from his wrist representing someone who he wanted to find once more
To thank for caring for him despite his bloodline
Because Ace saw himself as a blotch on the world rather than a blessing
It was something that Ace had hid well but as his father Edward could see the conflict in his eyes
He Tried his best to resolve it but it had yet to go away
But when Ace talks of the Brothers made over a sip of sake, a small sun charm and now seemingly you
It seems for a moment to melt away
Like the strongest of metal being smelted before hardening once more
So Edward watches in amusement as Ace lets you hang from his arm
Or how his son tries his best to seemingly impress your young eyes with tricks of blazing flames
Ace doesn’t seem to notice though that anything he seems to do leaves a proud look in your eyes
But Eddie does
Whitebeard can’t place as to why but he decides to leave it
Simply enjoying his new child and Ace bonding as if they had knew each other for years
The flame brazen boy igniting excitedly like a match as your smaller hands find his and dance to the drunken shanty music
Singing songs you seem to know and regard with an almost melancholy smile as Binks Booze begins to play
Only giving more evidence to your possible heritage
And then you eventually approach Eddie himself
The fearless Whitebeard, strongest man in the world
Golden yellow eyes staring back down towards yours that reflected a starry night
He asks you about your family in which you answer vaguely
Though he expect no less of an answer he notices that the way you explain it is practiced
And despite how practiced it is it leaves him dealing down worry
You’d been on your own for a decent amount of time now
Just seemingly drifting from how you described it
No one but yourself and the sea to keep you company
Only the clothes on your back and small mementos from travels to carry on with you
Whitebeard ponders who the “friends” you’d made along the way but you don’t say names often
Just nicknames
Sneaky but he’s raised enough rebellious boys to see past all the tricks
You change conversation but Edward allows it
Instead you ask him questions, something no one would usually dare to do when being questioned from him
He’d have to admit you have some guts for a kid
Typically he’d call people who did something like that a brat but he lets it slip this one time
And he answers your questions
If only to try and ease you into seeing that he is more than just the epithet of strongest man
That first and foremost he’s a father and perhaps he could be one to you
But instead you inquired about Roger
Another itch to prove your perhaps Rayleigh’s child
So Whitebeard answers truthfully talking about the man he once considered friend
To be honest Edward never really knew how to quite characterize his and Roger’s relationship
On one hand Roger was a man that Edward had respected deeply. Someone who was not only equal in power but also in kindness
God Roger was so stupidly nice to just about everyone as long as you didn’t somehow anger him
But On the other hand Roger was one of the stupidest men alive
Running head first into a battle with nothing prepared
Roger and him were both Friends and Rivals all at the same time
Along with being two sides of a coin
Men who loved more passionately than anyone else
Men who’d do anything to protect all that they loved even if it killed them
In some sense Whitebeard knows he should be happy in being the “victor” in their rivalry yet he’s not
Because they never did settle a score because there was no score to settle
And Eddie no matter how hard he’d try to deny it missed that goof
For as annoying as he was he was equally charming
Something that was infuriating
Because of course Eddie had to become friends with that man
Of course Roger had to go and get himself killed
And it’s Eddie who’s left to mourn
Eddie who’s left to watch the world change and grow old
Eddie is always the one left standing
And it’s there with that you ask him about mourning and how he deals with it
And Edward can’t help but give a pitied stare
A child should not know grief
A child should not know how to mourn
And yet you do
You always seemed to know something your not supposed to
A thing both equally dangerous to you as it is others
……geez you really must be Rayleigh’s kid
Whitebeard smiles, looking down to the coat hung heavy on your shoulders
For a moment he sees Roger there, smiling at him as usual
He tells you that even when someone is gone they leave bits of themselves in the world
Eyes subtly glancing towards a distracted Ace and Izou who listens nearby
Their presence still lingering in all those that they touched by literal and metaphorical
Because when someone leaves you they never really do
They change you
Mold you into the person you are and could become wether that be good or bad
Because Whitebeard despite knowing Oden and Roger are gone can still feel their presence on this ship
The splinters from when battling Roger as he was flung onto the Moby dick
The room in which Oden carved his name in the wood along with Toki’s within the shape of a heart
Sees glimmers of Roger shining through Ace and his firey temper along with his compassion
Watches Izou mumble under his breath about how Oden would have loved to have been on this adventure
Those 3 sake cups still sit in Edwards office
Below a collection of objects and photos of all his lost children
He still mourns them
As any father would
Still wonders if they would forgive him for falling them
But when he does so he remembers their still there
Their fingerprints engraved on a old grizzled heart
At hearing this you nod, pulling that old coat on your shoulders closer
As if someone was hugging you through its luxurious red cloth
His words have seemed to have comforted you and he’s glad
Perhaps even lifting some of the grief off your chest
If so Edward is happy
Because a child should know no grief
And he’d like to change that
Would like to remold your melancholy little heart back to what it should be
That of a happy child
He and his children itch to ask you to stay
But even when Marco offers you a room here
Or when Ace just straight up asks you to stay
You always reply the same way
That like the sea herself you are untethered
Maybe one day you’d find a place but for now you must keep drifting
You have people to meet
Friends you call family to see once more
Everyone here wishes for you to stay
Some ask their father to perhaps to pull the same thing they had pulled with Ace
But Whitebeard doesn’t relent on wanting you to join by your choice
Even when he feels his will want to crack when one night after talking with you under the starry night you fell asleep in his palm
Curled up and small as he feels small tears drip down and pool beside you
Or when it wants to crack even more when he catches you one night in the crows nest singing
The almost haunting sound echoing and reverberating across the ship
The Moby herself sitting at your side, her Klabautermann joining you in song
Or the almost final blow when he realizes that you breath new life in the ship without even knowing it
It’s unseen by your eyes but Whitebeard knows his sons and his ship enough to know when it’s more lively than usual
How your words capture them
He’s watched as you sat atop a barrel telling tales and seeing everyone huddle around you like ducks
Pausing in their duties or even sitting down to ask questions or for you to elaborate more
Grown men and women enraptured by stories of the sea and all its beauty
Even he himself couldn’t help but find himself entranced by your words
The way in which you tell them all are too detailed as to not be true
But Whitebeard does not relent
Does not stop in his judgement no matter how hard it will be to let you go back on that dinky little ship you called your own
It’s sail made of spare sheets with sewn in patches giving it splatters of colour
But when that happens Whitebeard promises to throw you a grand goodbye
Promises that when you do come back they’d have a room ready
That Thatch would make food that reminded you of a once lost home again
That Marco would tend to your wounds and let you scrape the sky
And that Ace would light up with a flame of a stars intensity
But they never were able to throw that goodbye party
That party would be the next one after the one that was meant to just enjoy being with you once more without having to say goodbye
But then you decided you’d help Thatch after seeing he could barely walk in a straight line, so you paused the celebrations for yourself and went to that kitchen celler
Going to place that damned devil fruit to be locked away
But then minutes ticked by
And so Ace decides he’d go find you, saying he’d have to convince you to tell Eddie of your story about the island in the clouds
The joyful atmosphere continues
And then comes Ace’s horrified scream for Marco
Cutting through the atmosphere as the usually chipper boy runs out the kitchen with you in his arms
Bloodied little you
You sit there in Ace’s arms
Bleeding heavily from a large slashing stab that has your blood practically gushing out and into the ground along with Ace’s arms
Despite that though
Despite the pain you should be in Edward spots an oddly content look on your face
Eyes looking up towards Ace but instead of tears filling them it’s a bittersweet look
The look of I’m sorry
Ace and you sit in Edward’s palm
Your small form cradled by his sobbing son who pleads for you
Blood still fresh on his hands and now smeared across Edward’s as well
A child should never die
Let alone in someone’s arms
For they shall carry that weight of them in their arms forever
So he tells ace to lay you down in his Palm
And Ace can only do so reluctantly
Ace turns to run to Marco who’s dashing across the ship but you stop him grabbing his hand
Making his son pause
You smile despite it all, a bright and beautiful smile that rivals the sun and all stars in the sky
Then looking to his charm as you pull out a similar one nestled in that coat pocket of yours
“You found me” it comes out as a pained rasp that makes Whitebeard’s heart ache
It aches more seeing Ace’s expression
Pure grief
Just utter pure grief
Ace clutches you
Begs you not to leave
To please not leave him after finding you
To tell him who did this to you
Your eyes squint as if trying to remember, but then light up with recognition
You give a small laugh, one that makes Whitebeard go still as does Ace
“Zehahaha”
Teach….thats why he wasn’t on deck
As that happens pieces of you shatter
A bright shining gold flashing in the night sky
Sparks of starlight and stardust congregating in the air
Scattering somewhere into the sky
In a fevered state you utter a last word to Ace
Sunshine
When your gone everyone is in a stunned silence
Because what just happened
But then Whitebeard thinks
He thinks all the way back to Roger
The last time he saw Roger the bastard had gotten suddenly silent asking Eddie if he knew of a song, a myth
A star that once dead formed back once more in a new part of the sky
A song was made about it once, something from the Rumbar pirates that had long died among the waves
But then he thinks back further
Back to those 3 days and nights they had fought on that abandoned island
And then he remembers
As Roger sent him flying with a punch Eddie skidded by the Oro Jackson
And for the briefest of moments he thought he spotted something shining in the darkness of a cracked open door
More rather the peering shining eyes of someone
At the time he tried to question Roger but he was as unmoving as a stubborn horse so Eddie had left the topic
He had forgotten of that experience years later
But now it comes rushing back
As does that myth of a undying star
It seems Roger was hinting at something all along
Sly bastard
Seems you weren’t Rayleigh’s kid after all
Maybe you were more Roger’s kid than anything
But….Eddie had taken in one of Roger’s brats before
His sobbing son is evidence of that
And perhaps he will do so again
“Hmf….sly bastard. Their out there, we’ll find them again” his words are spoken with conviction as a sobbing ace looks up to him, his golden eyes soften at his sons expression “their still alive Ace, just displaced when they die. Roger rambled to me a myth about it the last time we met. A star that never died and reappeared in the sky, I thought it was nonsense but maybe he was right”
“But how-“
“Think my boy. How could they be the one who had cared for you all those years ago when they’re that young? My best guess is a devil fruit” he sees the emotions swirl in Ace’s eyes as his sons nods shakily. Hands clutching the sun charm of his bracelet and scared to let go. Edward’s eyes travel from his son to his other children, the gold that was once softened now hardening once more as anger replaced it. Teach….a son now a traitor had to be delt with.
#determination!#platonic#one piece#one piece x reader#whitebeard pirates x reader#whitebeard x reader#edward newgate#Edward Newgate x reader#thatch x reader#ace d portgas x reader#marco the phoenix x reader
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Roommate trouble
summary: Your roommate Jesse and his girlfriend Dina fuck..a lot. loudly. When you finally get fed up after being woken up by their nightly “activities”, you go to Dina’s dorm for some peace and quiet only to run into her roommate, Ellie.
warnings: Smut (18+ PLZ), Language, modern!au, college!au, making out, thigh riding, fingering (r rec), oral (r rec), dom!ellie, teasing, sub!reader, not edited well (I can’t think of anything else but lmk if you find something I forgot!)
wc: 2.7k
an: HEY YALL!! It's been a hot minute, sorry about that! The shotgun series is still ongoing but this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. I tried to activate my asks or whatever but I’m still kinda new to how tumblr works haha. I wanna meet people in the TLOU community and make friends so come say hi!! Anyhoo I hope you guys enjoy, have a great day I love you ♡ - Lottie
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You loved Jesse, you really did. Starting from move-in day, you guys did everything together, knew everything about each other, and he quickly became your absolute best friend. When he first introduced you to Dina, a girl he met during orientation, you were so happy he found someone as sweet and open as she was. She always greeted you with a hug and smile, even going as far as inviting you to hang out with her and Jesse on whatever date they had planned. Eventually, you and Dina also got very close, going on your own little “friend dates” as she called them where you would go to dinner or just watch a movie. You always joked that if she ever got tired of Jesse all she had to do was say the word and you would sweep her off her feet. As much as you loved them though, there was one thing about them that you couldn’t stand. They fucked like rabbits. Literally 24/7. You actually didn’t even know it was medically possible for two people to get it on this much. You come home from a class and boom- they’re in your dorm going at it. Trying to take a nap in your room? Think again, here comes Jesse and Dina tearing off each other's clothes. You tried to be cool about it at first because you didn’t want to seem bitchy, but you were quickly reaching your limit. And tonight was the night you lost it
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You had a long fucking day, filled with back-to-back classes that seemed to last an eternity and mountains of homework that took you hours in the library to complete. Practically as soon as you got to your dorm and your head hit the pillow you passed out, which is probably why you didn't hear Jesse and Dina come home. What you did hear, however, was a weird grating creaking noise that roused you from sleep. Blinking the blurriness from your eyes, you start to come to your surroundings. The creaking started to get louder and as you become more and more awake, you begin to notice soft moans and grunts coming from the direction of the creaking... - NO. FUCKING. WAY.
“You little fuck gremlins, you’re unbelievable!!!” You exclaim, hucking your pillow in their general direction. The sound of a startled grunt and scrambling from Jesse’s bed fills your ears as they try to cover themselves up, and finally, you turn your bedside lamp on to glare at them. Both of them sit on his bed, messily wrapped in blankets with a light pink dusting on their cheeks, chests heaving as they try to catch their breath. At least Dina looks apologetic, Jesse just looks annoyed you interrupted them.
“I’m so sorry, I-” Dina starts apologizing, but you hold up your hand to stop her.
“Jesse, you're like a brother to me and I love you, but I can’t deal with you right now. Like, just give me a heads up when you two are gonna fuck and I’ll leave, this is traumatizing.” Jesse slightly rolls his eyes but nods, and you can tell he does actually feel bad that they woke you. “and Dina, just give me a chance I’d treat you so right, just say the word. You’ve done nothing wrong ever, and I love you.”
Jesse shakes his head, throwing his hands up indignantly “Why do I get scolded like a toddler and Dina gets hit on?!? Where’s the justice?”. You shut him up with a glare, then focus back on Dina.
“Dina, where is your dorm and would your roommate mind me staying there? Y’all can finish what you started but I’m getting tf up outta here.” After getting the building name and room number, you quickly pack a small go bag with essentials, wrap a blanket over your shoulders, and begin to trudge across campus to Dina’s building. About halfway there you think about how crazy you’re going to look to her roommate, a girl you’ve never met before but Dina had mentioned in passing a few times. The only thing you knew about her was that her name was Ellie and she was an astronomy major. Fuck, what were you even going to say when you got there?? Hey! Our roommates were having a fuck fest in my room, mind if we have a sleepover? You spent the rest of the walk overthinking and trying to come up with something to say when you saw her until eventually, you found yourself on their floor. Wandering down the hallway, you finally stumble on a light wooden door that was decorated with colorful bits of paper cut into the shape of mushrooms that held both Dina and Ellie’s names. Keeping in mind the mini script you made of what to say when you were walking over, you take a deep breath and raise your hand to knock on the door.
After a moment of silence, clattering and distant swearing come from the other side of the door before it swings open. Your mouth goes dry, all the words you had rehearsed flying out the window as you take in Ellie for the first time. Her short auburn hair falls messily around her freckled face and as she lifts her hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes, you catch a glimpse of a tattoo on her forearm. Wearing just a white cotton tank top and black boxers, it was clear that she had been sleeping peacefully before your rude awakening. As you continue to check her out, you’re startled when her voice cuts through the quiet of the hallway.
“Dude, I was sleeping. The fuck do you want?” Ellie’s voice is still thick with sleep as her gaze falls on you. Oh shit, she must think you’re so creepy, just some rando waking her up in the middle of the night and then staring at her. You hastily blurt out your name trying to seem like less of a weirdo in front of Dina’s smoking-hot roommate
“Dina and Jesse woke me up with their... sex stuff? And they go at it all the time and I was kinda fed up so I asked Dina if I could sleep in her bed for tonight and she said yes so... now I'm here and-” Your awkward rambling was cut short by Ellie bursting out laughing, doubling over to clutch her stomach.
“No way dude that's fucking heinous! You poor thing get in here.” With that, Ellie grabs your arm and pulls you into the room, her hand finding the small of your back as she guides you in. “Welcome to our humble abode, that's Dina’s side so you can just dump your shit over there, and that's her bed.” She says, gesturing to the left side of the room. Shoving your backpack to the ground, you make your way to Dina’s bed, observing the room as you go. Ellie’s side is filled with drawings and posters, as well as a guitar that leans up against her bed rail. Pictures also litter the walls, some of her and Dina, some of her other friends, and a few of her with an older man you assume is her dad. Suddenly feeling the night catch up to you, a huge yawn leaves your lips and you crawl into Dina’s bed, letting your eyes fall closed.
“It's nice to finally meet you, Dina talks about you all the time. She didn’t tell me you were pretty though”. Your eyes fly open and you can feel your cheeks growing warm at the compliment.
“Dina talks about you too. It's weird we’ve never met before, Dina always said I would like you” You reply, rolling over to face her to see that she was already looking at you.
“Listen any time those two are annoying you, come over here. You’re always welcome” she tells you, a wide smile stretching across her face
“Thanks, Ellie”
“No problem pretty girl”
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“Ellie they’re doing it again!! They were literally eye fucking all over the room so I made my escape before my vision got assaulted. Again.” You yell, bursting into Ellie's room without so much as a knock. On that first night you stayed in Dina’s dorm, the two of you talked for hours, only stopping once daylight began to leak through the curtains on the windows. She talked about her adopted dad, Joel, what she wanted to do with her life, and her love of dinosaurs. With each word, you found yourself more and more enamored with her. You’d never met anyone like Ellie and from that day on you guys were close friends. Well... you don’t know if friends is the way to describe it. Ellie was almost always touching you, from wrapping an arm around your waist when you were walking together to pulling you down onto her lab when there was not enough room on the couch. At parties, she’d keep close to you, warding off creepy men with a snarl and her arm around your shoulders. You’d both shared countless kisses, some light and playful, others deep and passionate. There was something unspoken between the two of you, you saw it in the way she looked at you, the way she was protective over you like no one else in your life has ever been. You’d never labeled what you and Ellie had, too scared that if you talked about it, she’d get so weirded out by you reading too much into it that she would leave.
“I keep telling you babe, set boundaries with them. As much as I love having your gorgeous face here, you gotta tell them when you need the room.”
That was the other thing, the nicknames she gave you. You don’t think Ellie has called you by your name once since the night you met. It's always pretty girl, gorgeous, or your personal favorite, babe. Wandering over to where Ellie sat on the edge of her bed, tuning her guitar, you flop face down next to her. Hearing her place the guitar down with a dramatic sigh, you feel Ellie’s body moving toward where you lay on the bed. Rough hands grasp your waist, rolling you until you’re laying on your back. Ellie kneels over you, one hand stroking the skin of your waist while the other glides up the side of your body to brush your hair out of your eyes.
“I’ll beat the shit out of Jesse, will that help?” She offers, only half joking, earning a small giggle from you as she smiles.
“My hero” You joke, hand rising to cup the side of her face and squeeze the flesh there. “You don’t have to, I just have to stop being a pussy and tell them. Maybe we can make a schedule or something, I don't know.”
“Oo a fucking schedule, how romantic. I’m sure they’ll love that” She teases and you shove her away from you playfully. Before you can fully shove her away, she grips your arm, using the momentum to pull you onto her lap. Her back leans against the wall and she picks you up slightly by your hips so that she can slide her thigh between your legs.
“Shut up I’m trying okay?” You giggle raising your hand to push her once again. This time though, she catches it and laces your fingers together. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath from being WWE slammed into a cuddle session and you could have sworn you catch Ellie’s eyes flutter between your own and your chest. Did you wear a low-cut tank top and booty shorts on purpose?... maybe. Was it working? Hell yes.
When Ellie finally looks up from your chest, you raise an eyebrow mockingly at her and her face immediately flushes a dark red. You laugh as she averts her gaze and clears her throat, leaning down to rest your head in the crook of her neck. Her hands migrate to rub your back, moving the fabric of your shirt to rub soothing circles on your soft skin. From her neck you try to sneak a look at her face, only to find that her eyes are already locked on you. With a small smile, you once again bring your hand up to cup her face, this time just caressing the skin there instead of pinching. Ellie removes her hands from your back and uses them to grab the hair at the base of your neck, bringing your head up to face her. After only a brief look from your eyes to your lips, Ellie surges forward and meets your lips in a searing kiss.
She bites down on your lower lip playfully, taking advantage of the small gasp you let out to explore your mouth. Without realizing it, you begin to grind on Ellie’s thigh, desperate for friction. You only register you’re doing it when Ellie brings her hand down to grope your ass, forcing you further down on her thigh and quickening your pace. You break the kiss with a soft moan, getting lost in the pleasure until suddenly you find yourself on your back. Ellie slots her body fully over yours, eyeing you up and down with flush cheeks.
“Fuck, babe you’re so fucking beautiful.” She says, tracing her hand along the waistband of your shorts, toying with the fabric.
“Please Ellie” You whimper, practically writhing under her despite the fact that she's barely done anything yet
“Please what pretty girl? Use your words.”
“Touch me, Ellie, please! I-I need you!” You cry out and with a smug smirk, she slides her fingers under your waistband and between your folds
“It's okay baby shh, I got you. Fuck you’re so wet, is all this for me, gorgeous?” All you can do is nod pitifully as her fingers sink into you, a harsh moan tearing from your lips. Her fingers slide easily in and out, your slick walls clenching around her as her face moves to suck marks onto your neck. The pleasure is too much, clenching your eyes shut all you can focus on is the rough pounding of her fingers within you.
“Fuck, Ellie.. feels so good f-fuck” You incoherently babble as she curls her fingers, hitting your sweet spot and making your vision go dark. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your whole body clenching and shaking around Ellie’s fingers as she praises you.
“That's it pretty, you did so good for me. You’re so fucking hot, babe.” Ellie removes her fingers and immediately puts them in her mouth, sucking off your slick with a contented moan. “Fucking delicious, will you let me taste more baby? Please?”. Not finding yourself able to speak yet, all you can do is nod and Ellie wastes no time. Clambering off the bed, Ellie grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge, kneeling before you now bare core. Throwing your legs over her shoulders, Ellie dives in, attaching her lips to your swollen clit with a harsh suck. You loudly cry out, hands flying to the back of her head as her tongue begins to rapidly lick and suck all over. You feel your orgasm approaching more quickly than before and you unconsciously begin to grind down on Ellie's face to chase your release. However, your trance is interrupted by a loud shriek
“OH MY GOD! What the fuck guys, what are you doing?!?!” Dina yells from the now open door, shielding her eyes with her hand. You scramble to cover yourself with Ellie's comforter as the woman herself lets out an annoyed groan.
“Is this what it feels like!?! Jesus, it's like walking in on your parents. I’m so sorry, I’ll come back later!” Dina rushes out and slams the door behind her, leaving you and Ellie alone once again. After a moment of silence, Ellie starts to laugh
“Well, at least she knows what it's like now. I doubt they’ll be causing you problems again.” She says between her giggles, grabbing a pair of her boxers to dress you in. You shake off your embarrassment and begin to laugh as well, taking Ellie's hand and tugging her into bed with you. As Ellie wraps you in her arms, you can’t help but think you might have to thank Jesse and Dina for being such sex maniacs.
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an: I love you guys so much, thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs on my previous posts. Let me know if you guys can access my asks, I wanna get to know yall!! this is my first time writing smut, yall can probably tell LMAO but all feedback is appreciated ☺︎
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader smut#college!ellie williams#modern!ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fanfic
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When Luffy gets injured protecting you ((T ^ T)
my first post ever please be merciful 😓😭
#luffy x reader
(~>\\\<~) part 2:)
reader is kinda nonchalant baddie (ㆀ˘・з・˘)
reader pines for luffy, luffy feelings UNKNOWN
fluff/angst i suppose?
You don’t see him - don’t see the flash of his toothy grin when his rubbery limbs a stretch to reach you, your eyes wide and focused on the knife flying right to your chest. Only when you hear the pained groan leaving a figure from far away, your hazy eyes filled with panic, landing on the bleeding rubbery arm with the knife wedged deep. The skin bruised and rough, evident with previous careless injuries. Hands you are all too familiar with, wrapping around you protectively, firmly holding yours with certainty, now shaking softly at the pain of the knife wedged throug, crimson dripping down.
With no time to waste, the hand twists, swiftly grabbing you by the collar and yanking you smoothly with a soft thump against a firm, panting chest. Luffy. You look up at him, and he’s grinning ear to ear, blood trickling down his temple, lip cut and bruised, faint bruising all over his toned chest, his skin dirty and rough from terrain and faint traces of blood all over. There’s a flicker of something you can’t name in his eyes the moment he looks down at you, holding back pain or something else, though he seems fine other than the knife wedged in his wrist - still holding you protectively. And oh, his hair, sweaty and messy from fighting, draping over his low sleepy eyes which always watched you with such care and observation, the bloodied state he was in annoyingly adding to his charm.
There’s no time to waste. “Hah, that was a close one, wasn’t it?” Luffy chuckles softly down at you, smiling like always, barely even showing a sign of pain, as if he didn’t have a godamn knife wedged through his arm. Your face scrunches up in slight frustration. He’s always been like this, taking it upon himself to protect each and every one of his crew members. You’d found that part of him endearing if not for how often he got injured from it, but it also confused you when he did. You didn’t want him to protect you as just another crew member, you wished for more. But of course, you’d take that to the grave; that’s right, these feelings could never be acted upon. Why? Because you could tell. Luffy had no interest in romantic endeavours. (Oda had made that clear enough).
That’s why you just couldn’t accept his help sometimes. It made you waver. Each time he smiled at you. Held your hand. Ruffled your hair. You can’t stop the soft warmth fluttering through you, nor the way you soften at a mere touch. You try to be stoic, to act nonchalant, but Luffy has that sort of energy you can’t stay away from. The kind that you can’t run from. But above all, you didn’t want to misinterpret his kindness. He was kind to all, treated all with the same care and fairness. So you were afraid. Didn’t want him to push you away, to view you differently than he did as now. So you only bristle at his action, eyes now narrowing down at the knife through his wrist.
“Dont casually interrupt my fight, Captain.” you insist blandly, inspecting his wrist subtly. Luffy only seems to find your stubbornness amusing. “I don’t need your help.” you add flatly, trying not to show the little squint of your eyes in concern as you watch blood ooze out his wrist.
Luffy only chuckles softly. “Even while you’re hurt like this?”
His eyes crinkle softly as he smiles, and it makes part of you squirm with warmth, the other half only growing frustrated, conflicted with your own feelings, only wanting to maintain this farce of the need for this ‘crew mate’ relationship between you and him that you continue to be stubborn and difficult. His words don’t help one bit. Only reinforcing the idea he’d only ever treat you like another precious crew member of his.“You’re obviously the one who got hurt.” You try to point out his bleeding wrist, growing more concerned for him but it only shows as irritation on your soft features.
Luffy is about to speak before another knife flies your way, and he’s immediately pulling you away to keep you out it’s trajectory with his animalistic reflexes, his rough large hand slipping down to grip your waist softly, pulling your body flush against his, his eyes alert and watching for the enemy. Your body tensed ever so slightly with the contact. He leans down to mumble quietly into your ear, “Just leave this to your pirate king,” only to coil his rubbery arm around your waist securely, stretching it to transport you over to Usopp freaking out in the corner, gnawing at his nails as he watches Zoro and Sanji fight, his eyes widening in alarm watching you fly over to him. And it made you bristle softly, the way his whispered words had affected you so tenderly, calling himself “your pirate king,” only spurred your conflicted feelings, so much so you didn’t even get a chance to protest. “wait-“
“take her back to the Sunny, Ussop! Treat her leg!” Luffy calls back towards you both as Usopp miraculously manages to catch you steadily in his arms, eyes going down to your leg. Its a mess of blood and bone. You didn’t even notice, when your enemy found you at a vulnerable moment, breaking your entire leg. Your adrenaline running high, only focused on the knife hurling towards you. Tears prick your eyes in frustration. Again, you’d allowed him to see you like this, weak and in need of “protection,” and he’d let himself get hurt just to save your pathetic little ass. And as you protest while Usopp flees away from the scene with you over his shoulder, you can only look back at your captain who throws you a cheeky grin, flying off, ripping the knife out of his wrist and gum gum bazooka-ing whoever it was who broke your leg.
And god, you hated it, because his smile was the only thing you could hold onto as your vision blurred, Usopp’s panicked voice huffing as he raced back to the Sunny, your adrenaline wearing off. Pain pricks up your leg as your vision blurs out, watching the dash and stretch of Luffy’s rubber limbs as you slowly drift into darkness, slumping into Usopp tweaking tf out.
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tysm for reading!!!! it’d be a miracle you made it down here 😞. It’d be lovely if anyone can tell me what they did and didn’t like! i want to improve! but please be nice 👉👈
#Spotify#luffy x reader#luffy angst#luffy#luffy fluff#first post#new writer boost#straw hat luffy#new writers on tumblr#injured#one piece luffy#monkey d. luffy#usopp#zoro#sanji#one sided pining#one sided love#pining#fluff#angst#nonchalant!reader
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