#ehm or three times

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (34/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The boat that's actually a yacht - and it's just the two of you.

Warnings: fluff, minimal angst, Google translated French, no knowledge of boats

Word Count: 3.9k

series masterlist

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A/N: we're back bitches!!! love you. feedback is appreciated!

"What do we need?" you ask, taking a sip of your coffee. "Apart from Kika's spontaneous photos, I've only taken pictures of inanimate objects so far. And the one of you."

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "When Joris and I take photos together, we'll pack a bag of different clothes." When you raise an eyebrow in confusion, Charles purses his lips. "We always take several photos, for several posts. If we don't have time to take new pictures, we always have some in stock that we can use without them looking like old pictures."

"Okay." You put your mug down on the work surface in front of you. "Anything else?"

Your roommate grins. "Your camera."

"Haha." You toss it off with a kitchen towel. "I mean, do you need anything else in the way of props or anything?"

He shakes his head. "Actually, no. Everything you could possibly need for a photo shoot is already on the boat." He nods towards the hallway. "You just need long clothes in case it gets colder later."

You nod. "All right. Then you pack a bag with the things you need and I'll pack one with clothes I can wear if it gets cold later." You walk around the kitchen island towards the hallway. 

"And don't forget your camera." You can even hear the smirk, which is why you give him the middle finger without turning around. 

As you stand in your room, you don't really know what to pack. 

Although it's supposed to be twenty degrees outside - which sounds totally surreal for a day before Christmas - your weather app tells you that it's going to be almost three degrees at night. 

"How long are we staying on the boat?" you shout loudly so that Charles can hear you. You throw a large bag on the bed. 

"No idea," says Charles calmly. When you turn around, he's standing in the doorway. "You and I can leave after the pictures. Or stay there all day. Or the night." He shrugs his shoulders. "There's no time when the boat has to be back in port."

You sigh. "I'm afraid that doesn't help me much." You point to the bag on the bed. "I can't pack my entire closet, Charles. Tell me what to pack." You look at him pleadingly. 

"All right." He enters your bedroom and looks around before reaching for some clothes lying on the floor. "Here, the sweatpants are good. If you want to lie out on the sun bed in the evening, you'll need these." He tosses them to you. You catch them and fold them up to stow them neatly in your bag. "Do you have comfy socks or something?" 

"Ehm, yeah," you say, pulling some out of the pile of clothes Kika left there and tucking them into the side pocket of the bag.

Charles kneels down on the floor and sifts through the pile at your feet. "You'll definitely need a thick sweater. It's going to be pretty windy when we're out at sea." He rummages around in your clothes until he fishes out a black sweater and holds it out to you. "Tada."

The first thing you notice about the sweater is that it's not yours. The black hoodie is too big to be yours. The second thing you notice about it is that it's the sweater Charles gave you the night you went to your favorite place. 

The night Charles showed you his talent on the piano. The night you almost kissed. It feels like it was a lifetime ago. 

You can't tell Charles that you don't want to wear the sweater, even though it's incredibly comfortable. It certainly still smells like Charles, although perhaps not as strongly - after all, he hasn't worn it for days. You don't want to be wrapped up in his scent and be at risk of getting weak. The distance that needs to exist between you is the right thing to do. 

Charles looks at you questioningly from the floor and you realize you've already hesitated too long.

"That - that's not my sweater," you simply say. 

Your friend examines the sweater in his hand. "Really?" he asks, confused, smelling the collar. "But it smells like you."

You shake your head. "That's yours. You - uh - you lent it to me when we went to petits mondes," you explain as he folds the fabric and puts it to one side. 

"Oh. Right." He looks at the sweater before his gaze lands on you again. "You can keep it if you want."

You wave it off. "It's all right. Thanks for letting me borrow it. But it's yours after all, so..." You step nervously from one foot to the other. 

Charles watches you for a moment and then turns away. "All right, then. How about this one then?" He pulls another sweater out of the pile of laundry. This time it's actually yours. It's white, with red stripes on it and the collar reaches up to your chin. You definitely won't catch a cold in this. 

"It's good," you reply with a smile and catch it as he throws it to you. You fold it before putting it in your pocket as well. "What about your clothes? Do you want them in the bag too?" you ask him, hoping that he will take his clothes separately and not infect your clothes with his smell. 

Charles gets up from the floor. "I'll pack my own bag. You still have to pack your camera," he smiles, patting non-existent dust off his pants. "About the trip to the port..." he begins, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You grab your camera bag and stow it next to your clothes in your bag. Hopefully the spare battery is charged. "Hmm?"

"I suggest we take your car and I'll drop you off. Then you won't have to walk far to get to the boat," he explains. "I'll park your car in a side street and then join you. Then we won't be seen together."

You look at him, confused. "Can people just get on your boat like that? Aren't you afraid that some crazy fans will suddenly come out of - I don't know - your cabin?"

Charles has to smile. "Someone will be waiting for you there. They'll let you on the boat."

Embarrassed, you curl your lips into a thin line. Of course there's someone at the docks to make sure no one sneaks onto strangers' boats. "Okay."

You stand opposite each other, undecided, until Charles takes the first step. "I'll just pack my bag and then we can go." Smiling, he disappears from your bedroom. 

While Charles stuffs everything he can find into a bag, you gather some snacks in the kitchen to take with you on the boat. Charles has hinted that there would be a cook on site, but you might not be there for too long, so a proper meal wouldn't be worth it. 

As you prepare some sandwiches and put them in a bag, Charles appears behind you. "Are you ready?" he asks, leaning on the kitchen island. 

"Yep," you reply and place a few small bottles of water next to the sandwiches. When you look at Charles, he grins. "What is it?"

"Nothing." His grin almost reaches his ears. "There's water on the boat too, you know."

You roll your eyes. "I've never been on a boat before." 

Charles raises his eyebrows briefly before shrugging his shoulders. "It's not as special as you make it out to be."

You squint your eyes a little. "Only rich people say that."

He tilts his head. "Do you want to go on the boat or not?"

"Like I said," you start the sentence and grab the snacks, "only if I can steer it once."

Charles reaches for the keys to your Renault. "Don't you dare crash it," he warns you as you walk towards the elevator. He presses the button and a short time later the doors open. "That boat was expensive."

"Don't worry," you try to reassure him. "I'll just hold the wheel firmly and steer straight ahead." You wink at him and step into the elevator. 

Charles has to smile and follows you. "I think I'll only let you take the wheel on the open sea. There's much less risk of you ramming other boats."

"You have a lot of faith in me," you say with mock hurt and put your hand on your chest. 

"I do," he says seriously. "I'd trust you with my life."

-

You walk uncertainly around the various walkways. 

Before you got out of the car, Charles said there would be a man standing in front of his boat to help you find it. You would also have to say a password so that you would be granted access to Charles' boat. 

"For security," he explained. "We don't want everyone to get on the boat."

With your two bags on your shoulders, you walk past a few boats that certainly cost more than you'll ever earn. But nowhere is there a man to signal that you are in the right place. 

There are a few people at the harbor, but no one pays you any attention. They are chatting with friends, frolicking on boats and enjoying the warmth of the sun one last time before the year is over and winter finally sets in. You walk past them with your head down. 

Cautiously and indecisively, you walk on and the boats become yachts on which great parties are sure to take place in summer. They are big and nice and you wonder whether you should google one of the types to find out what price range the yachts of the rich and famous are in. 

You are torn from your thoughts by a man. "Madame? Vous cherchez quelque chose?" are you looking for something? 

Somewhat taken by surprise, you stop. You are standing in front of a large, white yacht. With its two floors, it towers above its neighbors by quite a bit. 

"Uhm," you look at the man uncertainly. "Je cherche le bateau d'un ami," you explain. I'm looking for my friends boat. 

The man raises an eyebrow as if he's wondering what you're doing here. Your uncertainty and searching eyes probably made you stand out immediately. You don't fit in here, that's for sure. 

When the man doesn't answer, you try the password Charles told you. "Chicken?" you ask uncertainly, but when the man smiles at you and reaches for your pockets, you exhale with relief. 

You've found the boat. Thank goodness. 

The man helps you onto the yacht and leads you past the sun bed into the interior, which is much bigger than you imagined, and places your bags on a couch. A couch. On a boat. How crazy. 

"Voulez-vous boire quelque chose?" would you like something to drink? He smiles kindly at you. 

"Non, merci," you thank him and look around. On the floor, next to a couch and a small bar, is the steering wheel, which you hope you'll be able to take the plunge on later. To the right, a staircase leads down to the lower floor, where there are not just one, but three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. 

Astonished, you run your fingers over one of the large beds. The fabric is soft and pleasant against your skin and you can almost imagine how comfortable the bed would be if you snuggled up there after a day in the sun. 

"I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't find my boat." 

As you turn around, Charles is standing at the foot of the stairs, watching you. Without further ado, you sit down on the bed behind you. "I was looking for a boat too. Not a castle on the water."

He has to grin. "The boat is still relatively small compared to the ones that dock here in the harbor in summer."

You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

He takes a step towards you. "Really. I'm the outsider with my little boat. There's nothing under five stories." He bites the inside of his cheek. "How do you like my boat?"

You nod. "Your yacht is really nice." You grin at him and take a look at the bed you're on. "But why do you need so much space at sea?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I usually spend the summer break here with my family. Not all of the time, of course, but when we go out on it, it's quite a few days. And I'll be damned if I'm going to share a bed with Arthur."

You try to suppress your grin, but unfortunately you don't succeed. "Why? Does he kick while he sleeps?"

"No," says Charles, leaning against the bed at a little distance from you. "But he used to steal the blanket in the past and then I had to freeze all night."

You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have just fought for it?"

"Believe me when I tell you I tried several times," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "He practically wraps himself up like a burrito and when that happens, you've lost."

"Then I know who I'd never share a bed with," you joke, but Charles looks a little more serious.

"I hope so." Before the mood can turn negative, he smiles at you. "Are you ready? Shall we go out?"

You look at him excitedly. "Oh yes." You jump off the bed and smooth out the creases you've left in the comforter. "How long will it take us to get outside?"

"Not long at all. I think twenty minutes and that's it," he explains, turning to head up the stairs.

When you reach the top, Charles gets behind the wheel. You look at him, confused. "Are you driving the yacht?"

"Yep."

"All the time?"

"Yep." He grins at you. "Except for the time you're at the wheel, of course."

You want to jump up and down with excitement. "And where's the man who let me on the boat?"

Charles presses a few buttons and the display in front of him comes to life. "Thomas? He's left the boat."

"Are we all alone?" you ask uncertainly and sit down on the couch. "I thought you still had a chef on board?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "You brought some snacks with you. Thomas also packed some food in the fridge in case you and I want to cook something later."

You purse your lips. You would spend the whole day on the water with Charles. Alone. And you would take pictures of him, which he would post on his official Instagram profile. And you would cook in the small kitchen in the basement. The distance you want to maintain between you seems to be shrinking somehow. 

"You're not going out on the boat with me to kill me and get rid of me discreetly, are you?" you ask him jokingly. 

"Believe me. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it on our first day," he grins and puts his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you ready?" Charles asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and small dimples form in his cheeks as he looks at you. 

Gorgeous. 

You smile back. "I'm ready, captain."

He winks at you. "Let's go then."

Concentrating, Charles steers his yacht out of the harbor between the other boats. The rocking is surprisingly pleasant and not as bad as you expected, so you lie down on the couch and wait until you arrive at your destination. Charles remains silent for a while, so you don't say anything either, worried about disturbing his concentration, but while he steers the boat, you start working on your camera settings and think about which one would be best for your shoot. 

After twenty minutes, the yacht comes to a halt and Charles turns to you. "Alright."

Excitedly, you get up from the couch and follow him outside to the sun bed you had your eye on when you boarded. As you look around, you are amazed. You can still see the land in the distance, but you are so far out that it almost merges with the horizon. Although there is a sea breeze blowing around you, the sun is so bright that you don't freeze. It's reflected on the clear water and you want to put on a bikini and jump in. 

Charles seems to notice your gaze. "Next summer, I'll take you with me and then you can swim and sunbathe here until you get sunburnt."

You smile at him. "I'll gladly take you up on that offer." You glance back inside. "Do you need to get changed or are we going to start straight away?"

Charles snaps his fingers once before pulling his shirt over his head and disappearing towards the interior. You try not to stare after him and you ignore how wide his back is and how his muscles move under his skin as he puts his shirt down on the couch. He opens his bag and pulls out a white shirt. When he turns back to you, you turn away quickly, hoping he hasn't noticed you watching him. 

"Ready when you are."

Charles changes clothes more often than you can imagine. He has different outfits ready for every pose and every location on his yacht, which he slips into in order to take the best possible picture. In between, you take a sandwich break on the sun bed and enjoy the warm sun on your skin before getting back to work. 

It doesnt take long for you to figure that Charles is the perfect man for the job. He's so easy to work with, even though he jokes most of the time and you surely have more photos of him looking funny than serious. But you enjoy it the way it is. Happy, free, without a care in the world.

When you have finished and Charles is happy with the photos you took, he suggests going home in the evening. You nod and sit down on the couch. 

When he looks at you expectantly, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What is it?"

"I thought you wanted to steer the boat." In his hand, he holds a bandana that he ties around his head to control his hair, which is messy from the constant changing of clothes.

You widen your eyes. "I thought you were messing with me."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Why would I do that? There's nothing and no one here that you can put at risk. And you won't be steering for long." He leans against the seat in front of the wheel. "If you want, the seat is yours."

Excited, you get up from the couch and get behind the wheel. Charles explains everything to you and you try to concentrate on his words as best you can, but he is so close to you that his scent of perfume, a little sweat and him envelops you. 

With his help, the boat sets off and you jump up and down on the seat with joy. Your hair is blowing around your head and it's so loud that you almost scream. "Oh my God! How fucking awesome is that?" You don't even notice that you've let go of the steering wheel.

"Hands on the wheel, you crazy woman!" laughs Charles, holding the wheel tightly. As you look at him, you see a spark of the Charles you know. The Charles that existed before yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you apologize and put your hands back on the wheel. "Oh my God! Can you take a picture of me?" 

Charles takes two steps back and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "Smile, please."

You grin so wide it almost hurts, but you can't stop. It seems so unbelievable that you are on a yacht and even get to steer it. 

You smile at Charles, tears stinging your eyes. A few days ago, you were almost homeless, all alone and on your own. There aren't enough words in the world to describe how grateful you are for the Monegasque who took you in. Who took you into his heart without hesitation. Who was there for you without batting an eyelid.

Fuck, you love him. And nothing in the world will ever change that.

"Thank you."

He lowers his cell phone. "For what?"

A tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. "For everything." 

Charles takes a step towards you and you would love to take him in your arms and never let him go again. But he stops an arm's length away from you and smiles at you. "I would do anything for you."

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, so you avert your gaze and look ahead again. Monaco is getting closer, but you would prefer to stay here. On the yacht and on the sea. You don't want to go back to reality yet - not if you can be here with Charles. The way it was before.

"I don't want to go back yet," he voices your thoughts and puts a hand on the wheel. When you look at him, he smiles a little brokenly. "I don't want to go back yet because I'm afraid that things won't be the same between you and me. That I'll lose you. And I don't want that." 

His words hit you so hard that you can't breathe. You would love to take him in your arms and kiss him and reassure him that you belong to him like the sand belongs to the sea, but that's not the way Charles means it. 

But you don't care how Charles means it. You belong to him - no matter which way.

"Then let's not go back," you suggest. "We - we can stay here and we won't go back until tomorrow."

Charles' smile looks forced. "And then?"

"Then we'll go home." You bite the inside of your cheek and purse your lips. "To our home."

Charles exhales in relief, as if the elephant that had been standing on his chest had finally gotten off of him. As if he had been underwater for too long and could now take his first breath. He would love to stay here forever, with you, far away from the reality of all the pressure he is under. 

As you smile at him, the pressure seems to fall off him. As if he has finally reached his destination, wherever that may be. Like he's home. 

Fuck, he'd do anything for you if you just asked him to.

He motions for you to let him into the seat, and as you swap places, he brings the yacht to a halt. As the engine shuts down, he slides off the seat and turns to face you. 

"Have you ever gotten drunk on a boat before?"

[aurorawritestoescape]

TABLE FOR THREE

Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 3,2k

Summary: you’re having a great time on your date but a man from your past interrupts it and makes it…better?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm, not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, infidelity (reader’s, in the past), manhandling, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, degradation, slut shaming, m!oral, cum eating, mutual masturbation, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, light spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism (they don’t get caught),mention of violence, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: this is filthy, y’all. Big thank you to an insanely talented writer @bonezone44 for inspiring me with this post. Smooching and hugging @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and screaming about this story with me. Love you all, hope you’ll enjoy it!💖 dividers by @saradika-graphics

PT 2 WHO’S YOUR DADDY? || MASTERLIST

Your boyfriend Dave and you are having dinner in your favorite restaurant. Your regular booth is tucked in a corner, hidden from the prying eye of the other guests. You two love coming here because you can enjoy each other without being seen, thanks to the tall backrests. Now you’re laughing, kissing and Dave’s hand is resting on your upper thigh, barely covered by your short skirt. His thumb is caressing your soft skin and your mind brings you back to the night before when he was railing you while you were sucking on the thick finger and moaning like a whore.

Suddenly a man plops on the seat in front of you with a smug smile.

Joel fucking Miller.

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ you repeat in your head as your heart freezes.

“Hello, sweetheart. Knew it was you. Saw you in the window passing by.”

He motions somewhere to the right of you and you inwardly curse his sharp eye.

“Want to introduce us, baby?” Dave asks with a cold tone in his voice and throws his arm around you in a possessive gesture.

You clear your throat and say as calmly as possible while panic twists your stomach.

“It’s Joel Miller, my— ehm, old friend.”

Joel chuckles, “Well, if old friends fuck like rabbits and live together for 3 years then I guess I’m that.”

He keeps laughing as you’re boring your eyes into him.

“Joel is my ex,” you admit, highlighting the last word with an expression of disgust on your face.

“Ex?” Dave repeats, narrowing his eyes and taking in the man sitting in front of him — older than him, much older than you, a broad torso under a worn out denim shirt, a big fist resting on the table and by the look of it, the man works with his hands. Joel seems to be calm and confident, but judging by the way you tensed, the break up wasn’t pleasant.

“Would never imagine you with a guy like that, sweetheart,” Joel says with a smug smile.

“And what guy am I?” Dave’s voice is coated with steel.

“Not like me, pal. I’m a simple working man, and this one always went for sweaty dirty men like me. You’re all suited up,” his piercing eyes slide to you and he asks, “Shootin’ out of your league, sweetie?”

“Fuck you,” you bite back and Joel smirks. You wanna slap his face so much but Dave takes your chin between his fingers, turns your head to him and looks into your eyes. His gaze under the furrowed brows scares and excites you.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Ok, Dave,” you mewl with a little nod and return your eyes to your troublesome ex.

“It’s her business who she dates. And mine. I guess your relationship ended badly, and I’m sorry, but shit happens, man. Move on.”

It’s so hot how calm he is and you feel your core burn with desire.

Dave pulls you closer to him with his arm still resting on your shoulder and rubs your collar bone with his thumb. Joel’s eyes follow his movements and he rasps,

“Don’t be sorry for me, pal. I’m fine now but ya gonna get burned if you don’t drop this slut.”

“You motherfucking piece—,” you sit up ready to start a fight but Dave’s hand, that a second ago was caressing your skin, flies to your throat and he pushes you back to the seat, not squeezing your neck but holding you seated by his side.

He shushes you and you can’t help but gush.

It’s a usual thing for him to be rough with you in bed, you love the way he manhandles you, breaks you every time you fuck, little by little, making you his. But he has never shown this side of him out of the bedroom. The idea that he’s so dominant with you around people sends electricity of arousal through your body.

With widened eyes you see Joel’s lips twist in a satisfied smile and anger burns your insides with a scolding ire. Only your boyfriend’s steady voice slightly calms you down.

“Joel, you seem like a reasonable man. What would you do if some asshole interrupted your date and started calling your girlfriend a slut. What I would probably do is break his jaw and then his legs.”

Not losing his smug smile, even after hearing your boyfriend’s threat, Joel raises his hands in front of his chest and explains,

“I don’t want any problems with you— it’s Dave, right? I’m doin’ you a favor. Givin’ you advice. Keep away from this minx. She’s good to look at and great to fuck but she’ll use you and then sleep with half of your crew.”

You curse and Dave puts his palm over your mouth. It’s big and warm and you feel your panties soak more.

“Crew?”

“I work in construction. I found out this bitch had slept with half of my team. Married guys, single. She was a hungry slut and I don’t think anything changed.”

He laughs and you try to take Dave’s hand off your mouth but he grabs your wrists with his strong fingers and keeps your hands on your lap.

“Sit still and let me listen, kitten. Or daddy will be angry.”

You swallow loudly, as your nostrils flare and pussy aches. Only your eyes can move now, darting between the two men.

“I like you, Dave, you have her under your thumb. I was too soft and kind with her. And women like her don’t appreciate kindness.”

Joel’s eyes shift between you and Dave as he continues, “Don't tell me you haven’t noticed. ‘s her nature. Her needy cunt always craves a fat cock. And oh boy, she always knows how to find it.”

You growl under Dave’s palm and he tightens his grip in warning.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear and then turns to Joel with his eyes narrowed.

“I believe you.”

You hum in protest, wriggling in Dave’s steel embrace, and he takes his hand off your mouth.

“Dave, don’t listen to him, he’s just jealous.”

Joel chuckles, shaking his head.

“You can’t deny the truth, sweetheart. I caught you with a guy’s dick in your mouth, my friend’s dick. And then I beat the truths about your affairs out of the others.”

You glance at Dave with scared eyes but he isn’t looking at you. His pensive gaze is set on Joel.

Then he turns his face to you and blood freezes in your veins.

“I did notice how you looked at the waiter just now, kitten. And that bartender. I know you gave him your number.”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to protest, but he interrupts you.

“Joel isn’t lying. I can tell.”

“He is! I didn’t …”

“Enough!”

You immediately shut your mouth, as soon as Dave slightly raises his voice. He trained you well after all.

“Fuck, good job, man. Look at her. So obedient but still a little feisty.”

Dave smirks and you see pride in his eyes when he hears your ex’s words.

“And she knows how to take cock, huh?” Joel looks at you, adjusting a bulge in his jeans.

You’re glaring at him but your mind bursts with images from your past, him pounding into you, his huge cock stretching you so deliciously and then pumping you full of his thick cum. His skilful fingers could make you explode in minutes and you’d never forget the way he ate your pussy. Dave is perfect in bed but Joel was unforgettable.

“Look at ‘er, she’s probably creamin’ right now, the way she’s starin’ at me.”

Dave smirks darkly and looks you over.

“Let’s find out.”

With that he shifts in his seat, slightly turning his big body to you, and his hand on your thigh slides up and under the hem of your skirt.

“Dave”, you breathe in sharply, widened eyes looking at him.

“Shh, baby, I’m just gonna check.”

His hand pulls your skirt up and he sees your black lacy panties. Joel grunts and leans forward placing his big hairy forearms on the table so he could see what Dave is doing.

Your boyfriend’s thick fingers slip under your panties and you blurt out,

“I’m wet because of you, Dave.”

“Is that so, kitten?” Dave asks but doesn’t look at you. His dark gaze is set on your clothed cunt as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to his and Joel’s eyes.

“Fuck, Dave, you’re the man,” Joel praises your boyfriend and you see hunger in the older man’s eyes. You’re so turned on right now, you know you’re dripping.

Dave tsks when he spreads your folds apart and your cunt blooms for them - your clit throbbing, skin glistening with your slick. The cold air hits your pussy and you softly moan.

“Dave, people could see,” you whine and try to close your legs but Dave’s hand stops you and you feel his lips at your temple when he says, loud enough for Joel to hear,

“Let’s ask your old friend to sit next to you and cover you from the passers-by. Will you feel more comfortable, baby?”

You glance up at Joel and though you hate his guts, you can’t deny that you want the fucker.

You nod and Joel’s lips stretch into a wide carnal grin.

He gets up and you salivate at the sight of the huge bulge in his jeans. You desperately want to see his cock, touch it, lick it, su—

Dave interrupts your thoughts, shifting to the side and pulling you with him to make room for Joel. The seat is meant for two people and when Joel plops next to you, turning to you a little, your body gets sandwiched between their huge frames. You feel so small, so helpless around the two men and your clit twitches as the arousal floods your core.

With your pussy still out in the open, you glance at Joel when he wraps his arm around your waist and fans your cheek and chest with his hot breath. The familiar scent of cigarettes, whiskey and Joel's musk hits your nose and you quietly whimper.

“Missed me, babygirl?” He’s leaning to you and you move away, pressing your body closer to Dave.

Your boyfriend reads you like a book. He knows that you’re acting skittish but it’s just a facade. You want it, you want them both.

“Baby, you did wrong by Joel. I think we need to apologize. How about we let him play with your pussy? Daddy won’t be mad, I promise.”

You look into Dave’s eyes and see that he’s not lying.

“Ok, daddy,” you purr and Joel barks a laugh.

“Told you she always wants it. Our little slut.”

You bite your lip hearing ‘our’ but Dave shakes his head.

“She’s mine, Joel, don’t forget that. But I see that she hurt you, and you have a right to punish her. Use her however you want.”

Joel throws him a nod. “That’s fair.”

With that his big calloused hand cups your pussy and slightly squeezes it. You look at Dave as he watches your ex’s hand touch you and his blown out eyes send another surge of wetness into Joel’s palm.

“I missed your sweet cunt, babygirl,” Joel whispers in your ear while his middle finger slips between your folds and he prods your soaking entrance.

“Fuck, she’s so wet, Dave. I remember how she used to soak me, her slick was fuckin’ everywhere. Wonder if she tastes the same.”

You see his finger leave your pussy as he brings it to his mouth and licks it clean.

Dave groans and you moan, watching Joel taste you.

Suddenly you feel a slap on your pulsating clit and you jerk, crying out a little too loudly. You cover your mouth with your palm, scared that the people will notice what the men are doing to you but Joel and Dave only chuckle.

“I fucked her last week in a changing room and she moaned like a little slut but now she’s all embarrassed.”

“I loved it about her. She looks so innocent but when you get her going… fuck, she jus’ loses her mind at the sight of a cock.”

You feel your cheeks burn but Dave doesn’t give you a chance to wallow in your delicious shame and inserts two thick fingers into your wet hole.

You moan his name and he kisses your cheek, before he begins sliding them in and out of you in steady rhythm, whispering obscenities in your ear,

“My little slut,” “bet people can see us”, “you don’t care, right?”, “I know you’d make us fuck you right in front of everyone”, “play with our cocks, baby, c’mon.”

When you hear his command, your hand immediately darts to his bulge and you hastily unbuckle his belt with one hand, open his dress pants and pull out his stiffening cock out of his boxers.

“Don’t forget about your friend, kitten,” Dave rasps, spreading his legs wider, and you unzip Joel’s jeans and take out his already hard manhood.

Their cocks are exposed now and standing at attention, both gorgeous, long and thick. Joel’s is a bit girthier, but you salivate looking at both of them. You can’t deny it, you have a great taste in men.

You spit on your hands and grab Dave’s member with your left hand and Joel’s with your right. They both grunt, when you start sliding your hand up and down their throbbing cocks and you revel in the sense of control they’re giving you. Their slits are leaking on your skin and you glide your palm over their fat tips, gathering their precum to make the cocks wetter.

You’re a mess yourself, the seat under you is getting slippery because of the juices seeping out of your pussy, thanks to your boyfriend’s fingers.

Joel is softly growling, watching your hand pump his cock and Dave working your cunt. “Fuck, I missed you so much, babygirl,” he admits and grabs the neckline of your top. He tugs it down exposing your naked breasts, your perked up mipples and Joel takes one between his index finger and a thumb and shakes his hand up and down. You whimper at the pain that swiftly morphs into pleasure while your tit is bouncing. Joel hunches down and takes it into his hot mouth, gently sucking on it. Your hand flies to run through his hair and your eyes flutter shut, as your climax approaches.

“Come for us, kitten. Soak my fingers,” Dave orders and Joel pushes you over the edge when his fingers find your pulsating clit and he swirls it with his pads while his mouth is still latched on your puffy nipple. Both Dave and Joel are playing with your cunt and soon you’re writhing between them, as waves of euphoria are lapping at your body. You try not to scream but it’s almost impossible, so you bite your lips till you taste blood, desperately trying to hide your ecstasy from the people in the restaurant.

When your orgasm subsides and you slump in your seat, breathing heavily, Joel’s mouth leaves your breast and their fingers part from your messy pussy.

You languidly stroke their cocks, feeling them thrum in your hands.

Dave turns your face to him and kisses you, licking into your mouth, claiming you as his in front of the other man. While your lips and tongues are caressing each other, you hear Joel almost moan from the pleasure your hand is giving him and you part from your boyfriend to whisper,

“He’s gonna come soon, daddy.”

“Want his cum, kitten?”

You nod and he smiles.

“Sit on my cock so I can fill you up. And give your mouth to Joel.”

“Yes, daddy.”

You fix your top and Dave helps you to sit on his stiff member. You both moan at the sensation but Joel curses at the absence of your hand on his ready-to-explode cock.

When you lean down, bringing your mouth to his length, the older man coos, “what a good little slut. Want my load, babygirl?” You look up at him and breathe out a sultry ‘yes’.

“C’mon, milk our cocks, kitten,” Dave commands with a light slap on your ass and you clench around him, making him grunt.

You take Joel’s manhood in your mouth and it’s like those years apart didn’t happen. The taste of his skin, the shape of his cock are so familiar you moan, thinking how much you missed it.

Dave slowly rolls his hips into you, holding your hips with his strong hands and his length slides in and out of your clenching wet hole. You feel the second climax build fast, so you move your hips up and down to make him fuck you harder.

“Man, you did wonders with her. She’s such an obedient little slut now,” Joel praises your boyfriend as their cocks are filling your body from both ends.

“It’s a work in progress, but she’ll be a good girl in no time.”

The way they talk about you like you’re not here, like you’re not pierced on their hard cocks is so delicious that after one hard thrust from Dave, you explode, unravelling on your boyfriend’s manhood as your moans are muffled by your ex’s fat length.

Your trembling body sends the men over the precipice, and Joel starts spurting his warm cum in your mouth and you drink it, hungrily slurping till the last drop. As soon as you’re done swallowing your ex’s load, Dave pulls you up by your shoulder and presses you tight to his body, wrapping his arm around your waist, the other hand splayed on your chest. You feel warmth in your core as his manhood is pulsing inside your pussy and filling you up with his big load. Joel tucks his softening cock back in his jeans, watching your boyfriend’s balls draw up and pump you full while your hole is stretched around his girth.

When Dave stops coming, he carefully lifts you up and quickly pulls back your panties. You sit back down between the men as Dave softly kisses your lips in gratitude and then orders you,

“Don’t spill a drop, baby. Want you to soak your little panties through.”

“Can I see?” Joel asks the younger man, not you, and Dave gives him a short nod.

Joel brings his hand to your pussy and pulls on the band of your underwear. He peeks inside, seeing the creamy cum coat the gusset and your puffy folds.

“You're so fuckin’ hot, babygirl. Did so good for us.” Joel mumbles in your ear and you glance up at him with a little smile. You can’t deny it, you loved this fucker.

As if reading your mind, Joel shoots you a wink and looks at Dave again.

“Was nice meeting you, Dave.” Then he takes a card out of his wallet and puts it on the table.

“If you wanna share the progress, training this one,” he nods at you, “give me a call.”

Then he gets up, adjusts his bulge and leaves the restaurant.

Thank you for reading!❤️ Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more filth for you, lovelies!🩷🌸

Pt 2 Who’s your daddy? || Masterlist

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag

Also tagging the ceo of the Dave York agenda @janaispunk 😘💕

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕

[sugastae]

I imagine Megumi to be that type to somehow land a girl. Like he’s dating you, you two are dating and he does acts of service in the most nonchalant way ever. He would go out of his way to make you feel special but without using words. It could be gift giving, baking something you like, buying stuff you see while window shopping, or going out on dates.

I imagine Megumi to watch you rave over one specific thing one time and forever he will remember and associate it with you and will always buy it for you when he comes across it.

He’s a gentleman too and would always hold your hand but never fully make eye contact when he does cause he’s so blushy and cute about it. Although, he’s never said the words ‘I love you’ he’s shown more than enough that he deeply cares for you. He’d buy you shoes, clothes, chocolates, flowers, and even undergarments (hehe) and none of those things will ever compare to the amount of love you have for each other, despite not ever having the three words reciprocated.

I imagine Megumi never saying ‘I love you’ till he’s ready to unionize as one with you. Not that he’d ever second doubt your feelings for him but because he wants to make sure every word out of his mouth is said with true intention and complete honesty. Also he would always chicken out and instead look away as his face flushes red.

I imagine Megumi Fushiguro saying I love you with such intensity that anyone would assume he was threatening you. Eyes wide with adoration and words so softly spoken.

“I never say this but… ehm… I love you.”

[dominantslasherking]

Billy and Stu with dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+. Backstory: You always manage to catch Billy and Stu's eyes on you, whether it be in the college classroom, or when you're purchase horror stuff, they always seem to follow you. Even in your house you still feel their gazes

The dimly lit college classroom was buzzing with chatter, but not loud enough for the professor to call on anyone. Minding your own business as you were taking notes and sketching little side characters on your notebook out of boredom. Eyes were lingering on you, It wasn't the typical glance or side glance.

The lingering eyes were strong and made you feel a cool sensation run down your spine. With a simple turn of the head, you spotted the two. Billy and Stu, how could not know them? Not only did they garner attention all over the college campus. You would always, always catch them staring, although they may be fast to react and look away.

It can't be a coincidence they just always stare at you, not to mention being in the areas you were, your favorite locations, dining areas.

But the really not-so-funny part is, every time you do end up making a friend at this college, they end up disappearing. It had gotten so bad that even your fellow students grew weary of you, believing you were the infamous 'scream' killer.

However after a night in jail and the kills were happening when you were locked up, you were cleared of suspicion but of course not from the college students.

Once the class ended. You made your way out slinging your bag over the shoulder and sighing.

Almost meticulously, with severe calculation Billy had bumped straight into you. He gave a pretty smile as Billy watched you pick up his books. "Thanks, hah," Billy said his eye gleaming with an intense undertone of desire and pure want.

"It's my fault, I should watch where I was going...lost in thought." Your husky voice mutters, stacking Billy's books neatly in your hand before returning them, noticing the subtle hand movement of Billy where his hand brushed against yours.

Turning your gaze to Billy's friend Stu. Stu was silent, his eyes roaming you. The typically loud and humorous friend was silent strange enough, he licked his lips and gave a big smile. "Wow! I love that shirt!" Billy's face fell at Stu's words, elbowing him in the stomach, not enough to cause him severe pain but make him go 'ow'

"What was that for?!" Stu muttered with a pout. "You idiot, his shirt is just plain gray! what do you mean you like it?" Billy scolded, hinting that he knew Stu was checking [Name] out, and now you probably knew that Stu was eyeballing you.

"Ohhh." Stu muttered, as they continued to whisper and bicker among themselves.

Your chuckle made them pause. "sorry, sorry, you guys are just--funny that's all." You spoke softly, you thought they were cute. Bidding them goodbye, you walk out of the classroom.

Billy stared at stu.

"Whattt? Not my fault he's so sexy!" Stu grumbled out.

<<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>>>

Later that day. You were at the DVD shop, looking through the thriller/horror second, making sure to get your hands on some classics.

With a loud and abrupt clank, your gaze faltered on the row across from you.

"Oops, did I ruin your guy's peeping session?" Randy had asked Billy and Stu. Stu gritted his teeth, Billy gave a urked glare. But the two of them knowing, your gaze was on them resisted doing something they were dying to do. They would just have to get back at him later.

"Wow! [Name], Thriller & horror movies? Nice dude!" Stu cheered pretending as if he didn't already know that about you...

Stu had started to chitter-chatter with you, while Billy was shooing and waving Randy off. Soon after Randy complied (after rolling his eyes and snarky comments) leaving the three of you alone.

"Ehm,--Well Billy and I, we love those types of genres!" Stu happily said as Billy's attention was now drawn to you, his feverish gaze landing on your lips every time you spoke. Taking a pause you spoke, "Really? why don't you two, come over sometime, we can watch them together?" You ask, as the two slashers freeze, slowly turning to look at each other and then back at you.

"What's the matter?...you don't want to---" Before you could finish what you wanted to say, Billy cut you off. "No-! No, we would love to."

Nodding you smiled, "Sure next time in class, we should set up a time and date." After bidding farewell, and purchasing the movies you got, you left, leaving Billy and Stu to celebrate together.

<<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>>>

Pausing the movie, you itched the back of your neck, a feeling of a sense of dread washed over you. You had it again. Like someone, was watching, analyzing, observing you.

"Fuck." a whisper, under your breath, as you got up to check your popcorn. Walking to the kitchen, you take out the bowl of popcorn, setting it down as the phone rings.

"Hello?" "What's your favorite scary movie, [Name]?"

[mabelstone]

Imagine Being Loved by Me

hozier x f! reader

part three of lullabies <3 | part two | masterlist

cw: 18+, nothing too serious but a bit teeeny bit of smut

word count: 3.2k

taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure

Three weeks have gone by since I walked in on Joe piledriving another woman in my bed.

Three weeks ago after a beautiful morning of jazz music, pancakes, and instant coffee, Andrew drove me back to my house to pick up my car. I sent him away with an earnest hug, putting on my bravest face as I let myself inside. No shit, there were rose petals on nearly every inch of floor board. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, instead, tiptoed upstairs into my room. Joe was asleep in bed, and I nearly tasted my breakfast for a second time that morning. Instantly, I felt nauseated, the type that makes you hot and dizzy and want to run away and never come back.

I pushed the feeling back down, determined to grab all my shit and forget this tainted cell of a house I once loved more than anything. Furiously, I began stuffing all of my clothes into a suitcase. Then in another bag, I took everything that belonged to me; sheets, towels, everything down to the last teabag. I was fuelled with rage, huffing and puffing my way around the house, lugging my bags out to my car. Oh, fuck. My keys.

Where are my car keys?

I searched the house like a mad woman, tearing apart the couches, looking in every cupboard and under every piece of furniture. Nothing. I called Andrew, asking if I'd had them at the bar, as if he'd know the answer if I didn't. "Ehm... just your house keys? I tink..."

"I tink you're no help," I mocked, hanging up with the briefest of smiles before I was playing detective again. I searched for nearly an hour before caving in and waking Joe.

I shook his shoulder roughly, standing back with my arms crossed once he finally stirred awake.

"Mmm..." He groaned, and I waited patiently with a scowl for him to realise it was me and not some broad off the street. "Oh, you're finally home."

"Where are my keys?" I deadpanned, fuse shorter than ever. I wasn't in the mood for the slightest conversation with him.

"I missed you so much, babe," he sighed, pulling my stiff body into a hug. I peeled myself away from him, repeating myself.

"Where are my keys, Joe? I left them in the fruit bowl, and now they are gone."

"Let's talk first before we make any hasty decisions," he coaxed, pulling me by my wrists onto the bed beside him. "I can't explain how sorry I am."

"Joe, please."

"I've been up all night crying, my heart is broken," he sighed emphatically, taking my hand into his. Oh, you're the heartbroken one? "I can't imagine a life without you."

"You weren't thinking that way when you were fucking the girl you met at my show."

"You hadn't had sex with me in weeks! I was getting desperate-"

"Just stop," I barked, throwing his hand off of me. "Give me my car keys so I can leave. This doesn't need to be any harder than you've already made it."

After minutes of brutally painful back and forth, he gave me the keys to his safe. I unlocked it to find my keys and an open jewellery box with a sparkling engagement ring. He was sitting on the bed, eyes filled with optimism, and I almost fell for it.

My phone buzzed and I saw a message from Andy.

You haven't crashed your car have you? X

I took my keys and closed the safe, turning on my heels out of the bedroom.

"Um, what the fuck?" Joe called out as he followed close behind me, roughly grabbing at my arm when I was halfway out the front door. "I just proposed to you, and you don't even have the decency to say no?"

"No," I replied, unlocking my car and tossing my bags into the boot.

"What? Babe, don't throw this away," he began to cry, clearly panicked.

"I haven't thrown anything away. You have." I shoved him away by his chest, just about ready to boil over with anger. "You have destroyed any shred of trust I had in you. It's over, Joe."

My tough act began to slip as my voice shook, climbing into my car and slamming the door shut before he could see how hard this really was on me. He screamed something inaudible at me as I drove away, and I watched him sob into his hands from the rearview mirror.

I cried the entire drive to my mums, ignoring the hundreds of calls I missed from him.

Andrew and I continued to spend time together. I spent many nights at my mums place while I tried to look for a house. I didn't have rental history as Joe wouldn't put me on the lease... because I didn't have rental history. "Babe, it'll just make everything harder," was once his excuse.

When my step dad would get unbearable, Andrew would invite me to spend the night. These nights would frequently begin with me sobbing about how broken hearted I was, and end with him and I snuggling on the couch to a movie. Innocent enough, sure. But after weeks of abstinence following six years of frequent sex, I was pent up. So pent up to the point where I would have to excuse myself for some time alone with his retractable shower head. Many of my thoughts of Andrew were so explicit, you'd think they were from the brain of a teenage boy who'd plough through two boxes of tissues a day. This of course left me feeling inexplicably guilty and beyond confused.

Tonight, we drank wine and sang cheesy duets together. We clumsily danced and laughed until we cried. He had the coordination of a newborn giraffe, and though I'd never admit it to him, I wasn't much better. He drunkenly rambled about how in a perfect world, he'd own a cottage in Wicklow and keep bees. I told him how I'd be a florist who sold my Irish friends' honey.

As if routine now, we'd share a blanket on the couch and watch a movie. Last night was Superbad, tonight was Inception. Andrew mindlessly carded his fingers through my hair, and with the comfort that brought me mixed with the wine, I was out to it within minutes.

His beard tickled the inside of my thigh as he continued to bite and suck at the sensitive skin, eyes boring holes into mine with a devilish grin.

"C'mon, Andy," I whined, throwing my head back in frustration. I closed my legs over his head, desperate to feel his mouth on me where I needed it viscerally.

"Patience, darlin'," he tsked at me, spreading my legs wide before him again. "Look so fuckin' gorgeous right now."

"Please, just touch me," I begged, reaching a new peak of arousal that was actually causing me pain. "Anything, just fucking touch me!"

He just chuckled, locking his arms around my thighs, pulling me closer to his face. He continued to place hot, wet opened mouthed kisses along my thighs, his beard scratching over my clit for a split second, and I swore I was on the brink of orgasm immediately. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, impatience taking full control of my autonomy.

He licked a languid stripe up my clit, causing me to let out a guttural moan, arching my back beneath him. He pushed me back down by my hips, one hand easily reaching my breast as he toyed with my nipple.

"Fuck, Andy," I cried, eyes screwing shut as every single nerve ending of mine came alive.

"Look at me," he ordered, the low rumble of his voice vibrating against my core. Without warning, my orgasm rippled through me, each nerve erupting like fireworks as I chanted his name.

I woke up panting, taking a moment to realise I was laying with Andrew on the couch. And processing the fact that I actually just orgasmed in my sleep.

"What's a'matter?" His voice was soft and concerned as he turned his head to face me.

"Weird dream," I laughed breathlessly, heart still pounding in my chest. This happened far too often. I almost wanted to spill my guts and confess everything he made me feel.

"Dreamin' of me, huh?" He grinned down at me, and I felt my cheeks burn.

A moment's silence.

"What?" Please tell me I wasn't moaning his name in my sleep.

"I'm jokin'," he laughed, averting his eyes back to the TV. "Unless you were."

I laughed along too, though in my head I was screaming. 'Unless you were,' what the fuck does that mean?

The credits rolled over the screen and like routine, we got off the couch and went to our separate rooms. Except this time, my heart didn't settle, and I didn't get much sleep.

We went about our days as usual, as if I didn’t fantasise about him every waking moment. I worried that I was catching feelings, and catching them far too fast for someone who'd only just gotten out of a 6 year relationship.

I couldn’t help it. I was infatuated. Infatuated was an understatement. I was completely and utterly enamoured by Andrew. I wanted to be in his presence every moment I could. I often told little white lies so I could spend the night, even though our we remained within a strictly friends only basis.

He was kinder than any man I’d ever met, insisting on having to open every door for me, sending me off to bed with a glass of water each night, and waking me with coffee just how I liked. He was gentle and tentative, always fast at identifying cues when I was upset.

But that’s all we were - just friends.

I began to crave his touch, desperate for any opportunity to feel his skin on mine. He’d often play me a new song he’d written, and I’d watch on with hearts for eyes as his skilled fingers worked his guitar effortlessly.

I saw it in his eyes too, sure he wanted me how I wanted him. I dreamt of climbing into his lap, kissing him until my lips were swollen or until he couldn’t take it anymore and we’d need to take off our clothes to satiate our desires.

But I couldn’t.

When it felt like we were moving in that direction, I’d turn ice cold. Though my heart was begging me to love him how he deserved, my brain knew this was probably just a rebound. And someone with a heart as golden as Andy's didn’t deserve the hell grief I’d cause him.

So I brushed off each pet name as if hearing them didn’t cause my stomach to do acrobats. I treated each night on the couch as if we were simply best friends who enjoyed each others' company. As though there was no other option than spooning on the couch where his scent became hardwired into my brain. I’d act as if I couldn’t feel his hard on pressing into the small of my back most nights. I’d pretend I’d have no idea what he was really doing when he’d have to excuse himself halfway through the movie to ‘make a call.’ It’s just how it worked for us.

And often, I wondered if it was torturing him as much as it was me.

We pulled up at the venue, Andrew of course opening my door for me, offering me his hand as I stepped out onto the kerb. I thanked him and we headed in together, turning a few heads as we did so. Not that this was unusual, he was 6’6” and painfully handsome, after all. He’d also given himself quite the name, rumours of a few producers attending tonight in hopes of setting him a deal.

“Remember me when you’re famous and touring the world without me,” I fake pouted, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

“Well obviously, nobody forgets their muse,” he bumped his shoulder into mine, that cheeky grin stretched across his face. “Besides, I owe you that much for giving me something to write about.”

I nearly choked on my drink, raising my eyebrows at him. “And what songs are written about me, hm?”

“The monster mash?” He kept a straight face, giving me that duh look at the same time.

“Oh, shut up, Andrew.” I laughed, acutely aware of the man who just sat beside me. “I’m being serious! It'd make me happy to know.”

“You’ll know when you hear ‘em, baby,” he grinned, throwing back his glass of champagne. Baby. My heart leapt from me, and in that moment I was grateful that he wouldn’t have noticed the deep blush splattered across my cheeks. He was too busy claiming another round of free drinks for us.

“Please tell me that’s your brother or something,” the man sat beside me spoke up, chocolate brown eyes so endearing, thick American accent on his lips.

"I sure hope not," I joked. His face fell, and I realise how that could've been misconstrued. "No- he's not my boyfriend either. We just sing together."

He put his hands together in prayer, looking up to the roof, mouthing, 'thank you, God.' I laughed at him, shaking my head. He had dark brown curls similar to Andy's, his were just more tame and much shorter. Full lips that twisted into a dopey smile, and if I weren't so confused with my emotions, I'd have jumped into a cab and gone home with him without a second thought. "I'm Will," he introduced himself, shaking my hand.

"Y/N," I blushed when he kissed my knuckles, wondering where the hell Andy had run off to. "Where are you from?" I attempted to avert the conversation, regaining ownership of my hand.

"Colorado," he smiled, signalling to the bartender that he wanted to order another round. "And you're a singer?"

"Uh... well I sing, yes," I giggled, the three prior glasses of bubbles gone to my head. "I wouldn't label myself a singer as such."

"Well aren't you just the cutest thing," he grinned, slipping his hand onto my thigh.

"I uh," I stammered, struggling to find the words. "That's very kind," my eyes searched the room for Andy. He towered over mostly everybody wherever we were, standing out like a sore thumb. But for some reason, he was nowhere to be found right when I needed him.

"I'm only in town for the night," he leaned in close to me, his breath hot in my ear, and his hand only getting warmer on my thigh. "Once you're done your little performance, why don't you come back to my hotel and give me an encore?"

Like the Gods had intervened, a familiar calloused hand was grabbing my arm. "C'mon, we gotta go backstage." I looked up to Andy, his expression rigid, bordering on disgust and anger.

"Oh, okay," I nodded, hopping up from my stool, Will's hand quickly retracted. "Uh, see you," I smiled awkwardly, Andrew's grip still around my arm.

"Here's your drink," he let me go, handing my glass to me.

"You saved me, Andy," I laughed, glancing back at the man who'd already moved onto his next victim. "Total wanker."

"Mhm," he hummed, not even looking at me as we made our way backstage.

"Everything alright?" I prodded, his expression unchanging. He didn't reply, instead opened the door to the green room for me. We weren't at our usual bar tonight. We'd been invited to perform at a decently size theatre that just so happened to be full of producers, offering free drinks for the performers. Maybe not the best combination.

The green room was alive with seven or so other musicians, all mingling amongst each other as they awaited their turns. There was a table lined with finger food, and a minibar with premixed drinks. Andrew had made a beeline straight for the snacks table. Typical.

"Um, hello?" I whisper shouted to him, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. "Is there a reason you're ignoring me? Is it because of that bloke? Because I-"

"Yes," was all he replied, taking his food to one of the couches with him.

"Okay," I was surprised with how forward he was, sitting down beside him, honestly perplexed by his rigidity. "...Why?"

"I didn't like the way he was talking to you," he shrugged, still avoiding my eye contact. "He was disrespectful."

"So... why are you icing me out, exactly?"

"I will say the wrong things, better to say nothin'."

This was unlike any way I'd seen him act before. Cold, annoyed... jealous? Surely not.

"Well, I'm sorry I- or he made you feel this way."

"Andrew Hozier-Byrne? You're on in two minutes," one of the stage hands announced, nursing his clipboard on his hip like a baby. "And we're still going ahead with the song change?"

Andy nodded, having a quick drink of water and tossing his rubbish away.

"Song change?" I questioned, following behind him. I made sure to watch every performance of his, even if it meant being amongst the audience when I wasn't also performing.

"Oh, yeah. When I went to get you a drink, I quickly changed my song. No biggie," he shrugged, tying his hair back into a bun, slipping his cap over the top. Jesus Christ, he looked fucking edible.

"What's the song?" I pressed further, still adamant despite the backstage timer ticking '30 seconds.'

"Haven't named it," he shrugged his guitar strap over his shoulders, giving me a wry smile. "It's about you, though."

I blushed deep, unable to form words. There was no space for talking anyway; he headed out onto the stage, leaving me dumbfounded as I watched on.

He awkwardly introduced himself, as he did each night.

And then followed my undoing.

I'd be the voice who urged Orpheus when her body was found.

I'd be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground.

I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee that made him turn around.

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice.

Imagine being loved by me.

Suddenly, there was not nearly enough air behind this curtain as I watched on, awestruck.

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do.

So I try to talk refined in fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you.

I'd be the last shred of truth lost in the myth of true love.

I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of.

That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marvelling at God.

Before he feels alone one time and marries the sea.

Imagine being loved by me.

Fuck.

My knees felt weak, sure my ears were deceiving me. Imagine being loved by me. Oh, but I do.

Sure enough, producers from many labels were flagging him down from the minute his set finished, flooding the backstage where I was waiting for him.

I ended up having to go on straight after Andrew, thankfully. I couldn't think of any words to say, and the ones I could think of were highly inappropriate. Not that he would mind, clearly.

I hung around after my set, making eye contact with Andy here and there, waving him off when he looked like he might leave the conversations for me. I was happy for him. Ecstatic. And the craving for his touch only multiplied tenfold with his subtle admission that he felt the same.

tricked ya!! i am physically incapable of writing slow burn lol i hope u enjoy what i have for u in the next chapter xx it'll be very juicy (and hopefully longer)

i've also added a taglist as per a request, lmk if you wanna be added xo

[springtyme]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 ♡

Carmy x afab!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist

Previous chapter || Main masterlist || ao3 || Next chapter

chapter summary: You and your neighbor share a cigarette, and you have an unexpected chat with his sister... Carmy kind of wants to strangle Richie.

word count: 7.4k

warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Smoking. Food. Angst and fluff. Hurt/comfort. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Strangers to friends to lovers. The beef as found family. Set in season one.

a/n: This chapter was supposed to be about twice as long, but we are gonna wait with the rest till next chapter. this might mean that there will end up being an extra chapter in the end.

"I need some sleep It can't go on like this I tried counting sheep But there's one I always miss"

“I’m Carmen… Carmen Berzatto.” 

Oh… Now the pieces start to fall into place - the tattoos, the exhaustion, the haunted look in his eyes that felt so familiar. A mix of sadness and understanding washes over you.   

“But uh… Carmy is fine,” he adds, the tiniest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Nice to meet you, Carmy.” You smile at him before telling him your own name, feeling a little embarrassed you didn’t tell him earlier, and a short silence follows, before you gently clear your throat. “Well, shall we?” 

“Yeah.” Carmy responds with a small nod of his head as he follows you down the hallway towards your apartment.  The short walk feels oddly awkward and comforting at the same time. 

As you step inside, you gesture for Carmy to follow you into the kitchen. You turn on the cabinet lights and motion for him to take a seat or stand wherever he prefers before grabbing a couple of mugs from the cupboard. There is still hot water on the kettle for you to make a new cup of tea. 

“You want normal or decaf?” you ask, holding up the coffee canister. Carmen’s tired eyes light up a little at the mention of coffee.

“Normal, please, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep anytime soon, and I have to leave for work in three hours” he lets out a soft, breathy sound, something between a sight and a chuckle, the sound weary but genuine, and a clear touch of gratitude in his voice. You put a filter in the coffee maker and pour the coffee grounds into it, the aroma slowly beginning to fill the air. As the coffee brews, you plop a tea bag into your own mug before pouring in the hot water. You take a moment to glance at him, his tired expression evident as he leans against the counter. 

You notice the way his eyes flicker around the room, taking in the small details of your kitchen that must be mirroring his own, before his gaze lands on you. Your eyes meet for a split second before you quickly look down at your steeping tea, feeling  how your pulse quickens slightly from getting caught staring.  

You clear your throat and decide to break the silence. “So, how does a chef end up starting a kitchen fire at 3 in the morning?” you say in an attempt to lighten up the mood, but you immediately cringe at yourself, it probably wasn’t the most tactful question to ask. You’re not normally this awkward, but you also don’t normally have strangers in your apartment in the middle of the night like this. 

“I-ehm… I was actually cooking in my sleep, I woke up to the fire alarm.” He confesses, sounding a little embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck. 

“Oh,” is all you say, not really knowing what else to come up with. You take a moment to process Carmen’s response, trying not to let your surprise show on your face. Cooking in his sleep? That certainly wasn’t a typical explanation for starting a kitchen fire. “I guess sleepwalking and cooking don’t mix well,” you end up replying, feeling a bit silly for stating the obvious. 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding in agreement. “I suppose not.” his voice laced with exhaustion, and another long stretch of silence unfolds between you. You are just about to open your mouth to say something to break it - what, you don’t even know, but you are saved by the coffee machine beeping, indicating that the coffee is ready. You quickly pour the hot coffee into a mug, happy for the natural interruption of the awkward silence. 

“Cream and sugar?” you ask him, smiling politely. 

Carmy nods gratefully. “Just a little cream, please.” You carefully pour a dash of cream into the mug, watching as it swirls and mixes with the fragrant dark coffee before placing the mug in front of Carmen. He takes a sip, his tired eyes closing momentarily as he savors the warmth.

“Thank you,” he says softly, the gratitude evident in his voice. You just smile at him. Taking your tea, you lean against  the counter on the opposite side of him.  

The two of you fall into a now more comfortable silence, the only sound filling the room being the occasional sip of coffee or tea. You cannot help but glance over at him every now and then, taking in the tired lines of his face, the way his eyes seem to hold a thousand untold stories. 

After a few moments of sipping your tea in silence, Carmen breaks the silence, pointing at one of the pictures on your fridge. “Is that from Copenhagen?”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips as you look over at the picture. “Yeah, it is. I got a job offer here in Chicago and thought that it might be time to try something new, I moved here six months ago, but before that I lived in Copenhagen. I like it here, and I’m really enjoying my new job,  but I do miss it.” 

“Yeah, Copenhagen’s really beautiful,” he says, still looking at the picture. 

You lean forward, feeling a spark of conversation ignite between you and Carmen. “So, you’ve been?”

“Yeah, I actually lived there for a while, when I worked at Norma.” He says it so casually, but you can’t help but feel a surge of surprise at his casual mention of working at a renowned three-Michelin-star restaurant. 

“Wow, that’s really cool,” you say, genuinely impressed. “What was it like?” 

Carmy smiles softly, a nostalgic glint in his tired eyes. “It was intense, but also really… rewarding?” he says, his voice trailing off slightly as if lost in memories. “The chefs there pushed me to my limits,  I learned so much during my time there, but, yeah, it was definitely hectic...” He pauses, a hint of melancholy in his voice, he seems to be caught in his own thoughts for a moment before he lightly shakes his head and turns his attention back to you. “What about you, what do you work with?”

“I work in theater, I’m a scenographer,” you reply, feeling a sense of pride as you talk about your passion. “I design and create the visual aspects of the stage production, from the sets to the props and the costumes. It’s a lot of work, but I really love it.” 

Carmen’s tired eyes light up with interest. “that sounds really cool. It must be amazing to see your designs come to life on stage.”

“It is,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “It can be really demanding sometimes, but seeing everything come together during a performance… It’s like the best feeling I know. To know that your hard work is helping give people an experience. I really like that feeling”  

He looks at you with a newfound glint in his eyes. You feel a warmth spreading through your chest from the way his eyes sparkle with genuine interest. “I think I know what you mean,” he responds, a sense of understanding passing between you. “It’s like when you create something with your hands and then see the final product, it’s a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.” 

“Exactly,” you nod in agreement, feeling a sense of understanding with Carmen in that moment that you haven’t felt in a long time. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, both lost in your own thoughts for a short moment before he breaks the quiet. 

“But, I’ll have to admit, I don’t really go to the theater that much,” he says, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Or like, at all.”

You chuckle softly, the conversation now flowing easily between you. “Well, don’t feel bad, most people don’t. And, I’ll also have to admit that I don’t really go to Michelin restaurants that often either… or at all.” This makes Carmy laugh – it’s soft and short lived, but genuine, and your heart sillily skips a beat by the gentle melody of it. 

“That’s fair, but I’m not working at Michelin places anymore,” he says, his voice losing a bit of its newfound bravado and his smile falters slightly, a shadow passing over his features. “My brother, Mikey…” Oh… Michael was his brother, you feel a pang of sadness wash over you as you piece together the connection. “He left me his restaurant, It’s an old shithole of a beef spot. I’m trying to get it back on its feet, but it’s been a struggle, you know?”  

You can see the weight of his words behind his tired eyes, the burden of responsibility and loss bearing down on him. 

“I was in New York… I was the Chef de Cuisine at the Eleven Madison Park, and now I’m back here, trying to revive this place that I can’t even believe is still standing,” Carmen’s voice fades a bit at the end of his sentence, a sense of resignation and disbelief evident in his words. “It’s fucking bullshit.” You can hear the frustration and sadness in his voice, and you feel a surge of empathy for him. “But it also means fucking everything to me,” he adds, his eyes unfocused and tired as he gazes off into the distance before blinking and lightly shaking his head, his pale cheek redding a little.

He looks embarrassed at his little outburst, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he runs a hand through his curls in frustration. “Sorry,” he murmurs, the word hanging in the air as he looks down at his coffee mug. You can see the conflicted emotions swirling in his eyes, the weight of his past and present struggles evident in his posture. 

“No need to apologize,” you reassure him, and another stretch of silence settles between you, the weight of his words lingering in the air. You don’t really know what else to say, so you don’t say anything, letting the quiet moment linger as you both sip your drinks, the only sound filling the room being the steady hum of the refrigerator. 

The atmosphere  hangs heavy with the weight of Carmen’s words, and you can sense how he is starting to shut down. So, instead of pushing for more conversation, you decide to take another approach. 

“Hey, uhm, can I bum one?” you ask, nodding towards the pack of cigarettes you had watched him put in his pants pocket when you had entered your apartment. You have your own, and you try not to smoke at night, but you make an exception, you crave the comfort of a cigarette and Carmen looks like he does too, and being able to offer you a cigarette might make him feel like he has something to offer and ease the tension.

Carmen’s tired eyes flicker for a second, like he is being pulled out of deep thoughts before looking back at you again.

“Yeah, of course,” he replies, pulling the cigarettes from his pocket and handing you the entire pack. “I would have gone down on the street…” he begins to explain before trailing off. 

You shake your head, cutting him off with a smile. “No need, If you’re fine with the fire escape we can go out there,” you offer in a gentle tone.

Carmen’s tired expression softens at your offer, and he nods in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

The two of you make your way to the window, cracking it open to let in some fresh air before climbing out onto the fire escape. The metal stairs creaking slightly with each step as the cool night air greets you as you both settle against the railing, the distant sound of the city humming below you. 

You pull out a cigarette and pop it between your lips before handing back the packet to Carmy. He takes one, lighting it with a flick of his lighter, the orange flame illuminating his tired face. He has a scar, you notice, on his right cheek, which you hadn’t noticed before. It looks like an old wound, faded and barely noticeable in the dim light of the night. You can’t help but wonder how he got it, but you are pulled out of your thoughts as he flickers on the lighter again, this time holding it out for you to light your cigarette. 

You lean in, the flame dancing before your eyes, casting a warm glow on your face. As you inhale, pulling life into the cigarette, the smoke swirls around you in the night air, the ember glowing brightly in the darkness. “Thanks,” you mumble, as you exhale, letting the smoke escape through your nose as you lean back again.  

For a while, the two of you sit in companionable silence, the only sounds being the never-quiet ambience of Chicago  from the streets below. The night air is cool against your skin, but also somewhat refreshing, and the warmth of the cigarettes and the close proximity of Carmen keeps you feeling cozy and content.

The weight of the conversation from earlier still lingers, but as you gaze out at the city skyline, a sense of peace washes over you. You smoke the entire cigarette in silence before Carmen breaks the quiet. “Did you know Mikey?”

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before responding, the few memories you have of Michael flooding back to you. 

“I don’t know if I knew him. We weren’t close, but we were neighbors for a few months. He was always friendly whenever we crossed paths in the hallway,” you say, watching Carmen closely for any sign of emotion. “I had my couch delivered about a week after I moved in, and despite having ordered it to be brought up to my apartment, the delivery guys just left it down on the street. Michael came down. I think he was on his way to work, and this guy came to pick him up and after asking me what happened, they just picked it up and started carrying it up for me. I tried to stop them, I was so scared, they’d throw their backs out,” you chuckle softly at the memory. “He didn’t have to do that, but he did anyway. I tried to thank them afterwards, venmo them or something, but they just waved it off.” 

Carmen listens quietly, his eyes focused on some distant point in the night sky, a flicker of emotion passing through his expression before he clears his throat softly. “Sounds like him,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with memories as he lights another  smoke, silently handing the pack over to you.

You take one, grateful for the distraction as you light it and take a long drag, the smoke swirling around you as you exhale. The quiet moment lingers between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. You can feel Carmen’s grief and exhaustion radiating off of him, the burden of loss and responsibility heavy on his shoulders. 

The silence stretches, and you start to worry that your story about the couch wasn’t the right thing to say, that maybe you had overstepped by bringing up memories of his brother. You rack your brain for something else to say, anything to lighten the mood or make him feel better, but you come up empty. Instead, you simply sit in silence, the only sounds being the gentle buzz of the city below and the occasional drag of your cigarettes. 

You can sense that Carmen is grappling with his own thoughts, his tired eyes gazing out at the twinkling lights below, lost in his own world. After a while, he breaks the silence, dumping his cigarette butt in the rusty tin can you have standing out here for the purpose. 

“I should probably get out of your hair and let you get some rest,” Carmen says, his voice resigned but appreciative. 

You nod in understanding, feeling a sense of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. A part of you wants to tell him to stay, but you also understand that he probably needs some time to himself. “Yeah, of course,” you reply, trying to keep your voice light and he gets up. 

The polite, well mannered side of you tells you to get up and follow him to the door, but your intuition tells you to stay. It seems like he needs some space to process his thoughts and feelings, and you don’t want to intrude on that. So, instead, you simply smile at him and nod towards the window. “Thanks for the company, Carmy. And hey, if you ever burn down your kitchen again, don’t hesitate to knock on my door, okay?” you tease, you want to say something deeper, but you hold back, not wanting to push too much.

Carmen lets out a soft chuckle, his tired eyes lighting up with a hint of amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the coffee and the chat,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips as he gives you a small wave before disappearing back into the apartment. A few seconds later you hear the click of the front door closing after him, and you feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you. 

You sit there for a while longer, the cigarette between your fingers slowly burning out. The weight of the night settles around you, the city’s hum a distant lullaby. You take one last drag of your cigarette, scrunching your nose at the light burn of your lips as you realize it had burned down to the filter.  

With a sigh you dispose of the butt in the tin can, letting it join the others, before standing, leaning against the railing and gazing out at the city lights twinkling below. The night air is crisp against your skin, the silence of the night wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You stand there for a little while longer, lost in your thoughts as your tired eyes capture the beauty of the cityscape below you. The events of the evening swirl around in your mind, the unexpected encounter with Carmy. You don’t know if you overstepped any boundaries, if you said the right things, or if you offered enough support. But you hope you did the right thing. 

With a final sigh, you step back inside, closing the window behind you and letting the night air dissipate. The apartment, that has felt empty since you moved in, feels even emptier now, and that is when you realize that Carmen had been the first person who you have invited into your home since you moved to Chicago. You can’t help but ponder over that as you head back to the kitchen to clean up and finish your tea. Maybe you should invite some of your coworkers over sometime, or actually start on trying to make some friends here. 

You go over to the coffee maker to pour out the leftover coffee in the pot, but you are surprised when you see that it has already been done, and the mug Carmen had used is hanging from the drying rack, along with the other dishes that had been sitting in the sink waiting for you to finally rack up the energy to wash, now cleaned. 

Maybe it’s just because you really, really hate washing dishes or maybe it’s the realization that you have been more lonely than you realized, but the sight makes a weird feeling settle in your chest, and it is too much for you to start processing right now, so you simply set down your mug on the counter and turn on your heel, leaving the kitchen and head to bed. Had you stayed in the dark kitchen for just a short while longer, you might have noticed the forgotten phone next to the sink. 

You make your way to your bedroom, peeling off your hoodie and sweatpants before sinking into the comfort of your bed, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you, that you’re not ready to decipher. All you really want to do right now is to let all thoughts and feelings fade away into the peaceful void of sleep. You don’t have work tomorrow, thank god, so you allow yourself to drift off without setting an alarm, letting the warm duvet envelop you as the beating of your heart slowly lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

· · · · ·

Carmen is flipping through the pages of the folder, he’s barely registering the ideas and suggestions she had put together  for the restaurant.. He doesn’t want to be an asshole, really doesn’t want to, but all this is a lot  and he can’t really deal with a lot right now.

He can feel the beginning of the well-known pounding in his temples, another day, another headache. He wants to be able to fix this place, and he is happy that Sydney wants to help with that, but all he can focus on right now is to get through the day. There is three hours to opening, one of the fucking ballbreaker machines are broken, and he can’t find his fucking phone, he thinks he might have forgotten it at home, he was a bit of a zombie when he left this morning. Last night was something… he’ll probably need 3-5 business days to process, or even better repress it completely from his memory, despite it being difficult. 

“On page 27, randomly, there’s actually some pretty good layouts of just that,” Sydney says, clearly trying to sound casual, but her voice betrays  a hint of eagerness.   

“Page 27?” he asks, feeling overwhelmed by everything in front of him.  

“Yeah, it’s mostly graphics,” Syd replies.  

He knows Sydney’s right, she is smart and capable, and he is not doubting that she has a bunch of good ideas. She is probably way more qualified to run a business than he is, or ever will be, but he can’t see how any of this is realistic. She is right, they are sleeping on to-go’s, but there is no way they’ll be able to manage that right now. 

And, yeah, there is no doubt that they need to make some serious changes, but all Carmen can focus on right now is to keep his head above water. He has issues keeping vendors current, and even scraping enough together to actually pay the staff. 

“Yo, Carm!” Marcus voice calls out, interrupting them. Carmen hands the folder back to Sydney before stepping out of the little office to see what’s now going on. 

Following Marcus’s voice, Carmy swings the doors open to the front of the house where he finds the baker leaning against the front of the counter, and Richie standing behind it with a woman, probably around his mothers age, who Carmy’s never seen before.   

“Yo, what’s going on?” Carmy asks, trying to push aside the headache that is threatening to take over while trying to understand what’s going on with Sydney hot on his heels. 

“No. I can handle this myself, cousin. I got this,” Richie tells him, holding his hand up as Carmen steps into the room. “So… You’re not Ron…” Richie says, now addressing the woman. 

“Ron’s gone. Gone, gone,” she answers, which isn’t helping Carmen understand the situation in the slightest. 

“Ron’s dead?!” Marcus exclaims, leaning a little further over the counter. 

“Who is Ron?” Carmy asks, trying to get a handle on the situation.

The woman turns towards Carmen. “My partner Ron Pager. He passed away. I’m running his routes now.” 

“Everybody’s dying,” Richie says, annoyed, making a half turn in frustration. 

“Nancy Chore, Chicago Board of Health,” the woman introduces herself, offering an explanation to Carmen. “I’m here to inspect the property.” 

Of, course… An inspection, why the fuck not?! Just what this day needed… 

“Okay, Nancy, hi. I’m Carmen Berzatto,” he extends his hand, introducing himself. “I’m the owner.”

“He’s the owner’s brother actually. He’s also dead,” Richie says, causing a raised eyebrow from the older woman. 

“He doesn’t look dead.”

“No, no I’m not dead. My brother is dead.” Carmen clarifies, even though he feels a bit dead right now. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” the woman says with a sympathetic nod. 

“I’m sorry for your loss too,” Richie says to the health inspector, not missing a beat as he continues. “Can I see some kind of identification?”

“Yeah,” the woman replies, holding out her very legit looking badge per Richie’s request. 

“Interesting,” the taller man says, his arms folded over his chest. 

“Is it? What’s interesting about that?” Carmen says, he can’t fucking deal with Richie’s antics right now, he just wants this inspection to be over as soon as possible. Carmy’s been trying to make everyone step up their game in the two weeks he’s been here. He, himself stayed until late last night to deep clean. There shouldn’t be any problems, and if Richie will just behave, everything should be going smoothly… Hopefully.         

“It’s an interesting logo on her badge,” Richie says defensively. 

Carmy decides to ignore him, turning his attention to the inspector. “Nancy, if you need anything, just find us. Make yourself at home. Okay?” He turns around to go back to the kitchen, he has a lot to do and he doesn’t have time to deal with Richie’s shenanigans right now. “Where’s Tina and Ebra!” he calls out as he makes it back to the kitchen with Sydney following him back again, seemingly not done with telling about her ideas to improve the restaurant.      

Carmen had hoped that the interruption would make her forget about it for a while, his head can’t hold any more right now, but he is also mildly curious to hear ideas, and he also doesn’t want to seem like an asshole, it is really nice of her to want to help, so he lets her follow him around as he makes it through the restaurant. 

“I also noted on the prog that it’s not necessarily flour that is expensive, but shipping, so we could just have somebody go and pick it up.” Sydney says as they make it back into his office. 

 “Yeah, Marcus,” Carmen agrees. He can definitely see the logic in that. It’s a good, and actually feasible, idea.

“Okay, sure. Marcus. Great,” she says a little confused. 

“No, it can only be Marcus,” Carmy explains. 

Sydney makes a face of befuddlement. “Why can it only be Marcus?”

“Sweeps, Tina and Ebra don’t drive,” he clarifies. .

“Uh, well, what about Richie?” she asks questioningly.   

“Suspended license.” 

“I saw him drive in this morning,” she points out. 

Carmy just shrugs, he is not sending a man with a suspended license out driving doing work hours, if Richie wants to risk it on his own time then that’s his business. 

Sydney shakes her head lightly, getting back on track. “The point is, it’s one of hundreds of things we can be doing to save costs!” 

“Sydney. Sydney. Sydney,” Carmy interrupts her. “Look, I’m sure this is all correct, but it’s a lot. The job you’re describing goes way outside what I can afford to pay a sous, which I can barely afford already. But I hear you. Okay? I have every intention of turning this into an efficient, respectable place of business run by adults…”

He can see that she is about to say something, but before she can get to it she gets interrupted by an outburst from the front of the house. “That’s a fucking ass of shit!” Richie’s voice bellows.   

“Eventually…” Carmy sighs, stepping out of the office once again to see what’s happening.  “Yo, yo, what’s going on?!” He yells as he pushes through the door to the front again, seeing that most of the staff are already there. A pressing feeling of uneasiness, starting to form in his chest as he steps around the counter to get to where Richie and Ms. Chore is standing, who he had almost forgotten was here. 

“Look… It wasn’t dangerous, Ms. Chore…” Richie says defensively, immediately making alarm bells go off in Carmy’s head.  

“What’s dangerous?!” Carmy demands to know.  

“I discovered a large hole in the tile. Looks like a former gas line next to the stove tops. Not only was it not properly dry walled and caulked, but someone clogged the hole with napkins and proxied over it with some kind of plastic. Grease seeped into the napkins and the proxy became unproxied.” Ms. Chore explains, sounding less than pleased. 

“So what does that mean?” Carmy can feel how fury is starting to slowly simmer in his stomach, threatening to soon be brought to a boil.

“A potential cross contaminate. Additionally, no hot water in the hand station.” The older woman explains. 

The last part makes both Richie and Syd erupt in protest, their voices overlapping and echoing through the room as they try to explain that the hot water does work, the water just has to run for a little while, which Ms. Chore doesn’t seem to be satisfied with. “Health code states any sink near a prep area needs to deliver instantly hot water to prevent the spread of bacteria.”  

Carmen can feel how his headache is now blooming into a full-blown migraine as the chaos unfolds around him. The sound of the voices mixing with the sound of the broken arcade game is starting to feel like an alarm going off in his head. It is like the piercing sound is stabbing through his temples and into his brain. He rubs his forehead, while grabbing the counter with his other hand, trying to ground himself as he tries to push back the throbbing pain. A health code vialation is literally the last fucking thing they need right now.  

“I haven’t even delivered the big one yet.” The health inspector continues and Carmen feels how his stomach drops at her words.   

“There’s a big one?” Fak says from his seat at the counter.   

“And what is the big one?” Carmen asks, breathing through his nose. richie

The woman pulls out a packet of smokes, ‘King Size Sapphire’, Carmen’s eyes immediately looks over at Richie. “Someone left a pack of cigarettes on the stovetop near the burners. Not only very dangerous, but also a potential contaminant.”  

“Motherfucker…” Carmy let’s out. The migraine is now pounding behind his eyes. 

“You can say that again,” Ms. Chore 

“Motherfucker!” Richie echoes, making Carmy’s blood fucking boil .

“Don’t actually say that again, you fucking idiot!” He yells at the taller man, feeling like he could strangle him in this moment.   

“Unfortunately, these violations leave me no choice. I award you a C.” Miss Chore holds the cardstock with a giant orange C out to hand over to Carmy, but he doesn’t take it. He can feel the anger and frustration boiling inside of him, threatening to spill over. The orange letter on the paper mocking him.    

A choir of protests fills the room as the staff tries to defend themselves, but Carmy can hardly hear them over the pounding in his head. 

“You know what, I’m going to caulk that shit right now, okay?” Richie states, trying to plead with Ms. Chore.  

“Oh, it doesn’t matter how fast you do it. I can’t come back to test for 30 days,” Ms Chore says, not missing a beat. 

“It’ll take five minutes, okay?! It’ll take five minutes to caulk.” Richie tries to bargain. “I can caulk! Let me fucking CAULK!” 

“There’s no caulk in the house, dude,” Fak chimes, making Richie yell at him to shut up and Ms. Chore hands over the review paper to Carmy before leaving. 

Carmy thinks he might actually strangle Richie, his head now not only throbbing with pain but with red hot fury as well. 

“You’re bitching me? You wanna run this place?!” Carmen seethes, his voice dripping with anger as he pushes Richie in the chest, his frustration finally boiling over.   

“How do you know they’re not your cigarettes?!” Richie pushes back, making Carmy stumble back a step. 

“Cause I’m not a fucking dipshit!” Carmy yells, seething with a mix of anger and frustration as he is about to push Richie again, but Sydney steps in between before he gets the chance, trying to keep the two men from each other as they yell at each other. Cursing and yelling fill the room as tensions escalate, the staff trying to intervene and the review paper falls to the floor in the commotion. 

“Let’s not do this,” Sydney says, her voice breaking through to Carmy, making him regain his senses. 

“All right. All right,” he says, throwing his hands in the air, trying to calm himself down before turning to Richie. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You are gonna go to the hardware store, you’re gonna get some joint compound. You’re gonna get some caulk and you’re gonna caulk that shit,” he says, his tone firm like he’s giving instructions to a child, despite him saying it with much more anger than he would ever use toward a kid.    

“Okay, well, FYI…” Richie cuts in, as if he’s about to argue, making Carmy wanna punch him. “I’m not your fucking gofer.”

“FYI?! FYI!” Carmen can’t believe he is having this discussion with a grown man. “FYI, you cocked it up, you’re gonna caulk it out!”

“Okay, well, I would love to, but my license is expired, FYI!” Richie retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“I saw you drive in this morning,” Sydney points out, making Carmen turn towards her.

“Sydney, you wanna help, you can take him.”

This makes Richie protest. “No. Time out. I’ll Uber. Thank you.”  

“Surge rates, fucko!” Carmy reminds him, his voice dripping with annoyance. 

“Fine,” Richie says in defeat before looking at Sydney. “But we’re taking my car.”

“I don’t care…” she says, shaking her head. 

Carmen is just glad that they’re leaving. Glad Richie’s leaving because he is fucking angry at him, and glad that Sydney is leaving, because it is clear to everyone that she is far too good for this place, and it makes him feel bad and kind of embarrassed that she has to put up with all the bullshit that happens here.

He just needs a break from annoying pseudo-cousins and over-ambitious sous chefs for a little while. Although Sydney is not officially his sous yet, but he is going to hire her – he’d be an idiot not to, she is probably the best this shitty place will ever see, if she still wants to work here after today, that is…

Carmy picks up the fallen review paper from the floor with slightly trembling hands as the giant orange C is staring back at him. The image burns into his mind, a symbol of failure and inadequacy. He knows that this place is shit and that he needs to make changes, but this is a whole new low.  His head feels like it is about to explode, the pounding in his temples now so unbearable he almost feels nauseous, the ballbreaker jingle of the broken machine, like nails on a chalkboard, echoing in his tired head.  

“Fix that fucking sound. Please fix that fucking sound!” He spits at Fak, half commanding, half pleading.  

“I will fix it. Fak always fixes it. Kids come in, break it, and what happens? I fix the balls. Fak fixes the balls.”

“FIX IT!” Carmy just yells. He wonders if it’s actually happened, after all these years in nightmarishly stressful kitchens, two weeks at The Beef  is what’s finally driven him completely insane as he goes back through the doors to the kitchen.   

Taking a breath and clenching his fists he tries to gather his thoughts. If he changes the plans so that Tina takes over Sydney’s stations while she is gone and he makes family, they shouldn’t get too behind while Sydney and Richie are gone.    

“Yo, Tina! I need you to help me out, chef,” he calls out to Tina, trying to regain a sense of control amidst the chaos. “I need you to take over Sydney’s stations while she’s gone. We need to keep things running smoothly, I’ll make family and help out with prep,” Carmen instructs, his voice firm but tinged with the underlying stress and frustration he’s feeling. 

“Got it, Jeff,” the shorter woman says, retying the strings of her ‘Mrs. Always Right’ apron.   

“Thank you, chef,” Carmy says, really meaning it. He knows she’s having a hard time with all the new changes he has made around the kitchen, and with Sydney coming in and things changing up, but she has been here for a long time and there is a reason for that.  

As they start working and tackling the tasks at hand, Carmen feels how his anger slowly disappears, something else inside him taking over. 

He has no idea how to manage, let alone fix, a failing business, but he knows how to cook. He knows what he’s doing when he’s in the kitchen and he knows that he can rely on his skills and can get into that magical state where he can shut his brain of for a little while, and just fully concentrates on the task at hand – which in this point of his life probably is the closest he comes to relaxing.  

· · · · ·     

You are pulled out of your slumber by the ringing of your phone, the shrill sound cutting through the peaceful silence of your bedroom. Groggily, you reach out to the nightstand where your phone is resting, fumbling for it in the darkness before finally grabbing hold of it. But  as you squint at the screen to see the caller ID, you see that there is none, it isn’t even your phone that is ringing. 

Confusion clouds your mind as you slide out of bed, and it is now clear to you that the sound isn’t coming from your bedroom. You stumble out of the room, trying to locate the source of the ringing, but it stops before you get a chance to pinpoint it. 

“What the…” you mumble before the ringing starts once again, realizing that the sound is coming from the kitchen. You feel a sense of unease wash over you as you make your way to the kitchen, the sound of the shrill ringing growing louder with each step. You enter the room and coming into view is the telephone on your kitchen counter. Confusion wells up inside you for a split second, your groggy mind still in a half fogged state of sleep, before the events of  last night come back to you. Carmen must have forgotten his phone last night. 

You look over at the oven, the digital clock, shocked by how late it is, you can’t remember the last time you woke up this late.  

You step over to the sink, looking down at the phone, the caller ID lighting up on the screen saying ‘Sugar’. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should answer or not. It feels pretty invasive to pick up another person’s phone, someone you don’t really know,  and you have no idea who this Sugar is, maybe a girlfriend? In that case you don’t want to intrude on their personal business, and you’re definitely not in the mood to be interrogated by some angry girlfriend.   

But it could be important, or maybe it is Carmen calling his own phone to figure out where it’s at. You contemplate what to do, but before you can make a decision the phone stops again, the ringing coming to an abrupt halt. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, but after a few seconds the phone lights up again. With a fast beating heart you swipe across the screen before picking it up to your ear, bracing yourself for whatever may come. 

“God damn it, Carm!” A female voice crackles through the speaker, frustration and annoyance evident in her tone. “Listen I know-” 

“Hello,” you croak out, interrupting the woman, not wanting to eavesdrop on a private conversation. The voice on the other end goes silent for a moment, and you can almost hear the confusion through the phone. 

“Uh, hi…” the voice says, the frustration in her tone melting away, being replaced with puzzlement. “Is Carmen there?”

You clear your throat, a little embarrassed by the mix-up. “Uh, no, he isn’t.” You cringe internally at the awkwardness of the situation. “He, uh, left his phone here last night.” And you only cringe even more. “I’m his neighbor, we had some coffee last night.” You quickly add, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so awkward, but you push through. 

“Oh..” the woman responds, her voice softening. “I’m Natalie, I’m Carmen’s sister.”

Relief floods through you, feeling a way more at ease now that you know who you’re talking to as you tell her your own name. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Natalie says, genuine remorse in her voice. “I’ve been trying to talk to him for a few days now, and I was starting to worry, but I think he’s just ignoring me.”

You feel a sense of understanding wash over you, having seen the exhaustion and turmoil in Carmen’s eyes the night before, and knowing about what had happened with Michael you can’t help but feel for her. “It’s okay,” you reassure her. “But, yeah, I saw him last night, we had coffee and he must have left his phone here by accident.” You offer, hoping to ease some of Natalie’s worry

“Oh, thank you for letting me know,” she replies, relief evident in her tone. “He can be a bit of a scatterbrain sometimes. I know he’s been dealing with a lot lately, so I appreciate you looking out for him.” 

You nod, feeling a sense of connection with Natalie, despite never having met her. “Of course, happy to help out.” 

You contemplate whether to offer any more information about your interaction with Carmy, but you ultimately decide to keep it to yourself. It’s really none of your business, but you can’t shake off the urge to help somehow. 

“Hey, uhm, if you give me the address I can swing by the restaurant and drop off his phone. I know I would be fucked without mine.” It’s not like you have any plans and you would probably not leave your apartment today if you don’t have a reason to. “I can tell Carmen to give you a call when he gets the chance,” you continue, hoping to be of some use and to ease Natalie’s worries.

“You’d do that?” 

“Yeah, it’s not a problem. Just let me know where to go and I’ll drop it off,” you offer, genuine in your willingness to help out. 

“That’s so sweet of you,” Natalie says, her voice softens even further, with a sense of genuine gratitude. She gives you the address to the restaurant, and you jot it down on a post-it note. The call ends with a warm goodbye from both of you. 

Forty minutes later, after a quick shower and getting dressed and ready, you’re on your way to the train station, the music in your headphones filling your ears as you step out onto the platform. Luckily you don’t have to wait long before the gray train pulls up, you board and find a spot to stand, not feeling the need to sit. The gentle rock of the train lulling you into a sense of calm, as you let your brain disconnect and enter the weird, cathartic state of introspection that you often seem to get in on public transportation while you watch Chicago pass by in a blur of buildings and colors.  

As the train comes to a stop at the station near the restaurant, you step out onto the platform and make your way towards the address Natalie had given you, it’s just a simple eight minute walk and you’re are there a lot quicker than you would have preferred, suddenly feeling a wave of nervousness wash over you, but you try to push through it, reminding yourself that you are just dropping off a phone and there’s no need to overthink things.

The restaurant is easy to spot, a worn sign hanging above the entrance with the name ‘The Original Beef of Chicagoland.’ You take a deep breath before pushing open the door and step inside.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡

@wittyno @eternallyvenus @eddioto

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 1)

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: language, high-quality banter

words: 2.7k

Summary: You freshly moved to San Diego and were in desperate need for a job. That's how you wandered into the Hard Deck, following the "Help Wanted" sign in the window. Not only is it your first time working in a bar, the crowd it hosts is also very new to you and one navy pilot in particular managed to get under your skin quite qickly...

a/n: I've started working on this story back in November 2023 and haven't touched it since February 2024. I'm halfway through the main story line but I'm kinda stuck. I hope showing you guys gets the wheels working again. Feedback is much appreciated!!

Link to my masterlist

“Hello?”, you asked as you entered the bar. It was a big room with a round bar counter in the middle of it. Tables and booths were spread across the space and hundreds of beer mugs were hanging from the ceiling. But besides that, the room was empty.

“Hello?”, you called out again, a little louder this time. An older man came through a door to your left, a dish towel hanging over his right shoulder and a trey of empty glasses in his hands. “Oh, hey there”, he said as he laid eyes on you. “Hi. I saw the ‘Help wanted’ sign outside”, you explained your early visit to the establishment, pointing towards the door.

“Penny!”, he called out. “Oh no, my name is Y/N”, you corrected him. “Penny’s the boss, darling”, he said and walked past you with a grandfatherly smile to put the trey on the bar counter.

“Sorry”, you said and felt your cheeks burning up. Great first impression, you thought to yourself with embarrassment. “What is it, Jimmy?”, a tall brunette came out of the same door the man had just appeared from. “This girl’s here for the job”, Jimmy told his boss and pointed at you before he started putting away the glasses under the bar.

“Hi”, you said to her when she looked at you. “Penny”, she said and extended her hand with a smile. “Y/N”, you replied as you shook it. “Come with me to my office, I got a few minutes”, Penny said and led you to a booth nearby.

“So, you want to work at a bar?”, she opened the impromptu job interview. “Ehm, yes”, you said and it came out like a question. “Have you ever worked at a bar?”, she asked further. “No, but I learn really quickly and I’m good with people”, you hastily explained. “Tell me a bit about yourself”, Penny continued with a warm smile.

“I just moved here from New Jersey. Two days ago, actually. I’m a hard worker and I really need the job to pay rent, so you can be sure I’ll show up every day super motivated”, you told her and tried to cover your anxiety with humor like you always did.

“This bar is the hot spot for the naval base her in North Island, so a lot of guys with all sorts of ego and authority issues. You’re sure you can handle that?”, she asked and narrowed her eyes a little bit. “I had all kinds of jobs dealing with difficult people”, you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m confident about handling a bunch of drunk guys”, you continued.

Penny looked at you in silence, contemplating your words. “Alright, let’s try it”, she finally said after what felt like forever. “Really?”, you asked surprised. “Yes. We are closed on Mondays, so you’ll have to work every day for the rest of the week. We’ll talk again after your first weekend shift, they’re our busiest nights. If I’m happy with your work and you’ll like it, too, we’ll see where we go from there”, she explained to you and a big smile formed on your face. You shook her extended hand, sealing the verbal contract.

“Jimmy will show you anything. We open at five”, she said and scooted out of the booth and led you over to the bar circle. That was in three hours, you noticed as you looked at the big clock hanging on the wall behind the bar. Suddenly you became very nervous. Somehow you hadn’t thought that you would be working the same day.

She formally introduced you to Jimmy, the other bartender that was working here and that Penny got along with the bar she had purchased three years ago.

“Disrespect a lady, the navy or put your cellphone on my bar – you buy a round. These are the three golden rules in this bar”, she said as she recited the plaque that was hanging in the middle of the bar circle on the middle counter. “If anyone disobeys the rules, we ring the bell”, she continued and reached her hand out and rang a big bell that was hanging from the ceiling and the loud noise rang through the empty bar. “And then what?”, you asked a bit irritated. “Then they have to buy a round for the whole place”, she answered your question with a smile that let you know that she liked it when that happened.

“Wow, that sounds expensive when the bar is full, right?”, you asked. “It is and therefore the rules shall not be broken”, Jimmy chimed in and a deep chuckle escaped his lips. You had to chuckle, too, at his words. “And if they can’t pay, it’s Overboard”, he added and winked at you. “They get thrown out”, Penny answered your inaudible question as you raised your eyebrows. “Okay”, you said and it sounded like a question. “Just wait for it, you’re gonna love it”, Jimmy told you and knocked on the bar counter.

“Okay, I’m gonna leave you two for now. Jimmy, you’re gonna take good care of our new girl”, Penny said and walked out behind the bar. “Sure thing, boss”, he promised with a nod. “We’ll take care of the paper work tomorrow”, she said to you before she left through the door again.

Jimmy spent the rest of the time until opening to give you the basic instructions on how to pour the most common drinks, work the register and running tabs.

Your first ever shift in a bar, you spent mostly handing out drinks that Penny or Jimmy had prepared, opening bottles of beer and cleaning up the empty glasses off the tables. Before you knew it, Penny called out the last call of the night and sent you home as you had finished cleaning up.

Your feet hurt like hell and your back was killing you when you fell into bed but you were happy that you had found a job. Penny and Jimmy seemed nice and you were sure you would get the hang of the whole bartender thing.

Two days later you worked your first Thursday, which according to Penny, would be your first busy night. You had the basics somewhat down but you were still nervous about the evening rush.

You had just started your shift and always spent the first hour restocking the bar, checking the register and wiping down the counter one more time.

When Penny opened the doors at 5 PM a few people already started to come in but thankfully it was still slow going. Penny went back to her little back-room office at the end of the little corridor where you would also find the storage room and the restrooms for the guests.

You were at the bar alone and spent your time cutting some limes. A man sat down at the bar, putting his phone on the counter. “Hi, what can I get you?”, you asked him as you noticed your new customer and wiped your hands on your apron. “A Whiskey please”, he said and gave you a friendly smile. He looked a bit older, maybe in his early fifties? But he still looked very good.

You nodded and grabbed a tumbler from under the bar. Then you turned around and looked at the dozen liquor bottles behind you. You had no clue what a Whiskey bottle looked like.

“Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey”, you mumbled to yourself under your breath. Or so you thought.

“On the far right”, you heard behind you. When you looked over your shoulder, the man pointed at the right end of the line of liquor bottles. You smiled apologetically and walked over. You still didn’t reach for a bottle immediately. “Second from the right”, he added and you finally found the right bottle.

“Thank you”, you told him with an apologetic smile and felt your cheeks getting warm. You were sure they were turning a red color as you filled his glass about an inch tall.

“I’m still new”, you explained your incompetence for fulfilling a simple drink order. “They often keep them in alphabetical order”, he told you and winked at you almost in a fatherly manner, like he had shared a secret to life with you. And in your current situation, he really did.

You turned around and looked at the bottles from left to right. “Huh, she really did. Thank you”, you said to him when you turned back around. “I’ll pretend I didn’t just notice that after three days of working here”, you told him and made it sound like you were sharing a secret with him, too. He chuckled into his glass before he took a sip. His phone buzzed and when he picked it up, he turned away from you to answer a text.

You turned around as well and took a look at the line of liquor bottles, trying to memorize their order. “Y/N, can you get this in the back and bring the next case of beer?”, Penny asked of you as she appeared in the circle. “Yeah sure”, you agreed and took the empty box from her hands.

“You gotta be kidding me”, you heard her say and thought she was talking to you, but when you looked up, you saw her staring at the man with the Whiskey.

“Pete”, she said. The man looked up and turned back around. “Penny?”, he asked, clearly surprised to see her here. And yet this one word carried so much, you felt like you shouldn’t be here.

“I’ll get the beer”, you excused yourself and left the two to themselves. Before you finally left the room, you turned around at the door and saw how they looked at each other. There was definitely some history there. You bit your lip to hide a smile and finally left for the storage room.

When the evening rush hit, you were overwhelmed by the number of orders coming from every side. Damn circle. The three of you tried to handle every order as fast as you could. Penny and Jimmy had a certain ease to them, moving quickly but without haste. You on the other hand ran around like a startled chicken, always bumping into Penny and Jimmy and seemingly always being in their way.

“Here you go”, you said as you handed three bottles of beer to a man, putting the money in the register, already receiving the next order from a woman to your left.

A blonde man in a khaki navy uniform appeared through the crowd, commanding his place at the front of the line. “Three beers”, he said. “Just a moment”, you told him and bent down to grab the tall beer glasses for beers from tap and walking over to the middle of the circle to fill them up.

“Come on, I ain’t got all night”, he said with an annoyed tone in his voice after just a few seconds of waiting. “I’ll be right there”, you told him again, sounding more and more desperate.

You didn’t pay him any more attention as you were in the middle of drawing a beer but he suddenly appeared again in the corner of your eye. When you looked over, you found him behind the bar, just grabbing three beers out of the cooler and prying the caps off with the metal opener. “Hey!”, you called out, putting down the glass you were holding. “Put them on my tab”, he just said and walked in front of the bar again.

"I don't even know who you are", you said surprised by his cockiness. "Name's Hangman. And you gotta be quicker if you wanna earn some tips, sweetheart", he said and winked at you. "And you will never drink here again if I ever catch you behind my bar again", Penny said as she appeared behind you, handing two tumblers with a brown liquid to another guy at the counter. "Your girl needs to be faster if she doesn't wanna start a riot", he said with a southern accent and a cocky expression on his face before he turned around and disappeared in the crowd. You noticed him coming back out at the dartboard as you couldn’t stop looking at him. His boldness fascinated and angered you to no end.

“Hangman…is he for real?”, you asked Penny when you turned around again. “That’s his call sign as a pilot. They all got one”, she explained to you as she added the drinks to his tab. “Most of them go by their call sign even outside of base”, she continued. “His real name is Jake”, she added, all while keep preparing drinks and handing them out. With a cock of her head, she motioned you to open some beers and she handed them out.

"You can't let them walk over you like that, you need to command your space. And your space right now is this bar", she told you. Normally you weren't too shy to talk back, but since you were new, you still needed to test the waters. But you took this as Penny's permission to be a bit mouthier to customers if needed.

You looked over at the dartboard where Hangman played with another guy in Khaki uniform. “Jake”, you mumbled his real name under your breath. And just like he had heard you, he looked over to you, winked and threw the dart into bulls eyes while still looking at you. He probably expected you to be impressed or swoon, but instead you rolled your eyes so hard at him that you feared they would get stuck.

A little while later, when the rush was over and you had time and room to breathe, Hangman and two of his buddies came over for another round. "Three beers, sweetheart. And don't make me come back there again", he said and gave you another wink, paired with a sly smile. It took everything you had not to pull a face of disgust.

Pretty boys like him always thought they owned the world. You learned quite early on that guys like him never even looked your way, let alone were interested in you. And because of that you learned to push down any interest you might have in them and cover it with sarcasm and wit.

Instead of an answer, you opened three bottles and placed them from right to left, Hangman being the last. "8,50. 8,50. 12 Dollars", you said as you placed the beers in front of the men. "Hey, why's mine more expensive?", Hangman asked with knitted eyebrows. "Douchebag tax. And don't call me sweetheart", you told him and now it was your turn to shoot him a cocky grin while you collected the money from his friends.

“You wanna pay cash or want me to put it on your tab?”, you asked him, an image of innocence. He looked at you a bit stunned by your boldness. He probably wasn’t used to be spoken to like that.

"Come on, I ain't got all night", you told him and let him hear the impatience in your voice. “Put it on my tab”, he answered after a few moments, unsure what to make of your behavior and took a sip. You turned around and put his latest drink into the register.

“Anything else I can get you, gentlemen?”, you asked but looked only at his friends. They answered with a smile and a shake of their heads, seemingly enjoying the way you treated their friend and colleague.

The three of them kept sitting at the bar but you took care of other customers.

When Penny rang for last round, she served them their final beers of the night and closed their tabs as you started to collect the empty glasses from the tables.

Just as you walked past the dartboard with a full trey of empty glasses and bottles, Hangman took a step back and smashed into you. The glasses clinked together loudly but somehow you managed not to drop any of them. Your whole body stiffened until the glasses stopped shaking.

“Whoa, gotta be careful there. You don’t want 7 years of bad luck if you break them”, was his only comment. Not sorry for running into you because I’m too arrogant to be aware of my surroundings. “I already met you tonight, it can’t get any worse than that. Also, that’s mirrors not glasses”, you told him with an annoyed sigh and let the unspoken jerk hanging in the air as you walked back to the bar.

“Oh, we’re gonna have a lot of fun”, Hangman said to himself under his breath as he watched you walking away.

next chapter: Part 2

[callmeby-mylastname]

shattered glass

warnings:angst,Mindy being silly, not entirely proof read(sorry guys)

summary:a beautifully blissful relation quickly ruined by five words.

A/N:oh boy has it been wild, i am sorry for not being able to do any requests but i should be back now. Apologies if you don’t even want this anymore but i’ll be putting out fics little by little however all requests will be done soon, once again sorry guys.

________________________________________

Three months. Three months of sneaky touches,secret kisses,lousy excuses to get some privacy. And yet no one knows that you and Tara have been in love the whole time.

“I know your secret Y/N.”

Or maybe they do.

The group are currently at Tara and sams apartment having their weekly movie marathon. And here you are under the shadow of Mindy Meeks as she is currently confronting you on a ‘secret’.

“Wha-what? Secret?pfffft. I Have absolutely no secrets, i am a very honest woman.” You awakardly giggled as Mindy was sill glaring into your soul.

“Oh?so we’re playing dumb? Let me sign it out”

“You, plus, woman-“ you already hated where this was going and so did Tara by the worried glances she kept sending you and her fidgeting hands.

Of course you loved Tara but there are countless reasons why no one can know. For starters, sam does not like you and you are terrified of sam.

“Admit it Y/L/N, you used my excellent movies knowledge to flirt with blonde in film”

Wait.what.

To say a confusing amount of emotions were running through you would be an understatement. On one hand you are overjoyed she infect does not know about you and Tara, however… you would debate your film skills are better than Mindy and of course most importantly you did NOT flirt with the girl in your film class.

“I-im-.what?’ You rather smoothly stuttered out.”Clara? You know one of the prettiest girls in school, not to mention BIG crush on you’

You take a quick glance over at Tara who does not look like the happiest girl in the world with this information.brilliant.

“Please the day Y/N gets a girlfriend is the day the word ends” sam ever so handsomely chimes in, shes sat over near the kitchen island sipping a glass of water.

“Oh no, you’d be surprised Y/N may be a nerd but she actually bags” chad continues, if you do say so yourself make the matter so much better.

You feel Tara’s jealousy radiate off her like she was just hit by a nuke and you were the giga counter.

“I left my phone in my room” without another word Tara stands up from the settee and beelines towards her room.

The group share their looks of concerned glances.

sighing you stand up “ill go check on her” and with that you’re walking right after Tara. blissfuly missing the switch from confusion to the most grinch looking grin coming from Mindy as she watches your figure walk after her.

You softly knock three times, Tara swiftly opens the door locking eyes with you.”hey”you sheepishly slime. “’bags’ huh?” She quotes.

“My love you know how chad is, i only have eyes for you i promise.” You cup her cheeks.

“Ill make sure of it” she grins pulling you into her room, making sure to close the door behind you.

It had been hours since you’ve been able to kiss eachother and it shows because neither of you realised Mindy standing at the door absolutely gobsmacked.

“Oh my actual like god,like jesus can strike me down i Knew it.” hearing Mindys voice you and Tara immediately pulled away. “Mindy listen you cant tell anyone please i-“ and abruptly Tara was cut off with Mindy running to tattle to the rest of the group.

“Woah Mindy you good?’ Sam questions noticing the girl.

“Y/N and Tara are dating” she blurts out just in time for you and Tara to run into the room.

Remember that nice,cold refreshing glass of after sam was drinking? Well it’s currently shattered on the floor landing right beside her jaw.

“Tara.room.now” and she’s storming off. Tara give you a gentle squeeze and runs off fete er sister.

“Ill,just ehm. Ill clean the glass” chad awkwardly runs off. Mindy is facing you, a look of concern mixed with regret, “hey,im sorry i didnt think-“ “no. no you didnt Mindy,im going home”

And with that you’re gone.

It had been weeks since then,chad keeps telling you how sorry Mindy is and Tara has ben completely avoiding you.and trust you were feeling the effects of her absence, you had tried your best to talk to her.

Walking up to her in school?walked past. texting?.ignored. calling?blocked,

It was gone,the most beautiful thing you both had tried desperately to protect ripped away because of a silly mistake.

taglist

request by - @ijustlovemaths (i know it’s been months i’m so sorry bro💀)

[hotgirlssupportlando]

one day x lando norris pt 2

this is a part of my series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and landos lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. ofc not a smooth ride with some angst and fights along the way. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. read first part here pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of this part: lando and y/n crushing hard on each other without the other one knowing. roadtrip to the beach and that kind of cosiness. warnings: a bit of angst? wc: 1,6k part three here

summer of 2017

”are you sure you don’t want the professional race car driver to drive there?” lando said with a concerned voice.

”does this look a race car? it’s a car suited for grandmothers, i could probably run faster than this car can drive. stop being such a wuss now and jump in” y/n demanded. 

lando jokingly crossed himself and told a little prayer before entering the passenger seat. y/n laughed and rolled her eyes at her scared friend.

”i know i only just got my license but i’m actually a decent driver! and besides that i’m the one of us that actually drive on roads, safely, while you’re out there almost killing yourself every other weekend.”

”okay, okay i get it, i trust you, just please keep us alive, i have a race in hungary this weekend” 

”we will just have to hope for the best dear” y/n responded driving away. 

while lando and y/n continued bickering about who of them was the best driver y/n drove along the english shoreline heading for a viewing point. she hadn’t seen him in a while and really missed him during the long periods of being apart. y/n tried her best at concentrating on the road and making a good impression of her driving skills but at the same time she couldn’t stop looking at lando and his beautiful smile. he truly made her so happy with his presence which she hadn’t really realized up until now. 

it was almost a year now since that podium kiss in austria and ever since that their friendship had developed into a special bond. y/n was still crushing quite hard on lando and without her knowing he was too. they’d never really talked about what happened in austria and although they had a very flirtatious friendship it had never lead to anything between them since that podium. this friendship that had now lasted almost a year felt like a once in a lifetime kind of thing and no-one of them wanted to ruin it by expressing their feelings for one another and maybe ruining it all. eventually it had led to them both staying away from any kind of topic regarding their feelings. 

”y/n? what are you thinking about?” lando said waking y/n up from her spiraling thoughts.

”oh, ehm.. nothing. ju-.. just trying to figure out where-, how we’re going to find a nice viewing point before the sun sets” y/n said trying to sound as calmly as she could.

”oh okay, well i know a place. if you just take a left over there and go up that road” lando answered while pointing to a road that was approaching. y/n drove as instructed and after a while reaching a beautiful spot that had a view over the water and a nearby beach. 

”wow this is nice lan, good job. i guess i now know where you take all your girls” y/n winked and playfully nudged lando’s arm trying to seem as unbothered as possible.

”not aaall girls but one thing i can tell you is that this spot has never failed me with the girls, soo-” lando cheekingly told y/n returning the nudge. 

y/n laughed. ”oh you wish norris! i’m not falling that easily, and what makes you think i’m like your other girls? i actually have more than IQ 50”

”heey that last girl actually a decent gcse!” lando whined.

”woow your standards are very high, i’m impressed. you do realize that that describes almost every girl in this country?” y/n joked as lando laughed and shook his head. ”well we will see y/n, don’t be so sure that you can resist me at a place like this” lando winked at the girl. y/n laughed denying it all while thinking that there was nothing that she wanted more than to be lando’s girl. 

—

moments later at the nearby beach

lando was running into the cold water squealing about how it felt worse than ice baths. he looked back at y/n standing on the beach fully dressed with no intention to go for a dip. ”come on now y/n it’s really not that bad!” lando shouted. y/n looked at lando who was clearly freezing and trying to hide it the best he could. ”lan you’re not convincing anyone that it’s not cold, i can see your goosebumps from miles away” she shouted back.

”okay well i bet you’re too much of -”

”lando stop, you can’t just make a bet for everything you want me to do?! that’s not how life works!” y/n interrupted before the curly headed boy could come up with the seventy-third betting game of their friendship. 

lando laughed seeing that y/n once again couldn’t resist his stupid ideas and started to remove her sweater. she continued taking off her skirt and top revealing the black bikini underneath. luckily lando was a bit further out in the ocean so y/n couldn’t hear his ”wow” when he saw her for the first time in that small amount of clothes. he kept admiring how beautiful she was walking down to the water while y/n tried to cover up a bit more of her body with her arms. 

y/n gasped when entering the water and also tried to put on her best show of convincing lando that the water wasn’t at all cold. slowly she waded out in the direction of the boy with full concentration on the coldness of the water against her skin and also on not stepping on any fish. while y/n struggled with this lando chuckled a bit further out in the water without looking away from the beautiful girl approaching him, oh how he had to fight the urge to not run up to her, grab her in his arms and kiss her. but he couldn’t do that. 

”hello? is your last braincell giving up too?” y/n woke lando up from his daydreaming receiving a smile back. as a response he playfully splashed water on her which eventually ended up in them both being totally soaked and heading to the car for some warmth.

—

moments later back at the car the pair of friends were talking in the trunk of the car that had been made to a cosy little space with blankets, pillows and mattresses. both of them were lying on their backs watching the sun set in front of them whilst the waves crashed against the beach. they talked about their future and what they wanted to achieve. the formula 3 driver’s dream future wasn’t hard to guess, formula 1 was of course the ultimate dream but although he was so talented he wasn’t optimistic in getting to that top tier. this however y/n just waved away reassuring lando that if somebody were to get there it was him and tried to fill him with the confidence boosting thoughts he needed to brush away his irrational thoughts.

”but what about you y/n/n? since the day i met you i’ve always been talking about formula one but you’ve never expressed any of your dreams?” he said tilting his head looking at y/n. 

”oh, well i don’t know if i have any specific dreams like you.. it sounds so cliché but i truly just wanna experience so much in my life so that maybe one day i wouldn’t need a storybook to tell my children bedtime stories you know? so i could just tell them about all the adventures i’ve been on instead” y/n responded.

”aaw that’s sweet of you. i’m sure that will happen for you and your kids are gonna be thrilled about hearing all about it. i hope i’ll be a part of at least one of your bedtime stories” lando smiled.

y/n smiled back ”i’m sure you’re going to be, but we both know that i also have too much need of academic validation so i’m gonna have to do something about that first, get a degree in something at least” y/n laughed while thinking about also making her family proud as she was often seen as the ’smart’ one in the family. lando chuckled a bit responding that she was the smartest girl he knew before he opened up his arms for her to come and lay on his chest. y/n snuggled in putting her head on his chest and resting her arm on his stomach. she thanked lando for the compliment although ’the smartest girl he knew’ -bar wasn’t very high to be honest. soon their both giggles died out in to a comfortable silence while the pair were holding each other closely. lando thinking about how he wanted to stay this close to y/n forever and y/n thinking about how lando’s arms were the safest she had ever felt. y/n lied so closely she could hear lando’s heartbeat in the silence. both of them were falling for each other, none of them knowing about the other persons feelings.

”lando?” y/n whispered.

”hm?” lando whispered back.

”can you promise that we will always stay like this? … like friends?” she added as her initial thought about expressing her feelings felt too overwhelming at the moment.

”i promise y/n, always” lando whispered back with a small voice crack revealing tears that were held back. oh how he wanted to tell her the truth.

y/n could feel her heart rip. it killed her slowly thinking about how this embrace and these safe arms didn’t belong to her. and if she never get the courage to tell lando they would never do.

—

taglist

@amberpanda99 @phantomxoxo @landossainz @chezmardybum @lan4cha16

[percynorthwest]

Jegulus microfic - doctor

2/5-2024 @jegulus-microfic words:~1060

cw:medical inaccuracies, pregnancy scare (ig?), complications, ectopic pregnancy

"And how long has the pain been going on for?"

"It started maybe two days ago. But it got so much worse this morning." Regulus replied. "And my shoulders started hurting too, at the same time," Regulus shrugged, "I don't know."

James could see that tried his best to keep his composure, but he could see the pain Regulus was in by his stiff posture and the constant frown on his face.

"And since then, it feels like I'm constantly on the brink of fainting."

The doctor typed quickly on her computer. She too had a quaint frown on her face. James held Regulus' hand, stroking his thumb over the back of his hand. Regulus hand was cold, more so than usual, and he was looking a tad to pale, all furthering James' worry.

James looked up to Regulus' face, and saw how he took deep, rhythmical, breaths, once again indicating of how much pain he was in. His eyes were closed tightly, and when he opened them, he blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. James understood how much he hated this; being so in the centre of attention; being vulnerable; in pain. James raised Regulus' hand to give it a soft kiss.

"And how long ago since your last period?" the doctor asked.

Regulus stiffened further where he sat on the plastic bed. This wasn't a topic Regulus was particularly comfortable with.

"Ehm, two years ago, maybe." He replied, still looking uncomfortable, "It kinda stopped once I got on hormones."

The doctor swirled away from the computer screen, now instead facing Regulus on her chair.

"Are you sexually active?"

James could see Regulus getting immediately red, before he answered with a nod. Then Regulus' frown deepened further.

"But I have an IUD, since like three years ago. And I'm at no risk of STDs or anything" He explained quickly with a now really worried look on his face, looking even more pale.

"It's still highly unlikely, but not impossible." The doctor explained, following Regulus' line of thinking. "I want to be on the safe side though, so I'm going to order some blood test, that will not only screen for pregnancy, and then I'd also like to order an ultrasound."

Regulus was certainly looking a lot more pale now, but he nodded along.

"Both the blood test and the ultrasound could indicate what's going on, not only whether or not it's a pregnancy."

Regulus looked just as worried, but he nodded again, maybe just a tad relieved after the doctor's reassurance.

When the doctor left the room, Regulus dropped his head back on the plastic bed, groaning out loud. James dragged his chair closer to the bed, wanting to support Regulus in any way he could. Regulus dragged his legs up, folding himself up like a ball. James placed a hand on Regulus' knee. He could hear Regulus' uneven breathing, making his heart break further. He stood up, bringing his hands to Regulus' face, cupping slightly and wiping away the few tears that had started falling down his chin.

A nurse or something akin to one, maybe a midwife, entered the room. Both James and Regulus startled slightly, and Regulus immediately wiped away any of the tears James had missed. James didn't sit back down again, wanting to be as close as possible.

"If you could just come with me," she said softly.

They followed her into another room, in the same part of the hospital. The room had stirrups, which made Regulus grip James' hand more tightly. Another nurse sat in the room already, and he seemed to be preparing blood tests.

Regulus was asked to sit down, and the male nurse took two vials of blood, while the other nurse prepared the ultrasound. After the vials were filled with crimson red blood, the male nurse left -thankfully, as Regulus probably didnt want more people in the room than necessary.

The whole procedure was quite quick. Regulus was asked to take his pants off and place his legs in those uncomfortable stirrups, and the nurse could quite quickly confirm that Regulus had a ectopic pregnancy, letting Regulus get down and get dressed again.

"What does that mean?" James asked after Regulus didn't say anything.

"The egg has been fertilized outside of the uterus," she explained. "In your case on your left fallopian tube. It happens to about one in 90 pregnancy, and if one is to get pregnant while using an IUD, the risk increases." Regulus nodded, seeming to be listening in. "I'll have to confer with the doctor, but either you will have to wait it out, under observation, or you'll be given medicines to stop furthering growth. There's also a surgery, if necessary."

She left in order to get the doctor.

Regulus turned to James, with a stern look on his face.

"We are never having sex again."

James immediately burst out in laughter, slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound, so stunned by the exclamation. Regulus was looking straight ahead, but James could see a smirk creeping on his face.

Once James had managed to stop, he turned to Regulus again;

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly, looking intently at his boyfriend's face, trying to gauge his emotions.

"Pretty fucking bad." he said, laughing slightly, but James could see the look of anxiety on his face, as well as a few tears escaping his eyes.

Regulus closed his eyes tightly, and groaned loudly as he pressed the heel of his hands into his face.

"I mean what the actual fuck? This is barley supposed to be possible!"

James didn't know what to say, instead just stroking Regulus' hair, tucking a lock behind his ear.

"I don't know, baby," he murmured, placing a kiss on top of his hair.

"This is your fault, you know." Regulus said, dropping his hands in order to glare at James. "You're sleeping on the couch indefinitely."

"Sure," he replied warmly. He would probably sleep on the street if Regulus so asked.

Regulus turned on the bed, dropping his legs of the side, now sitting turned to James. His face was still slightly crunched up in pain, and tears framed his eyes. He leaned towards James, who immediately engulfed him in a tight hug. Reg sobbed quietly into James' chest. James stroked his back.

"Everything will be okay," He murmured, once again into the top of his hair.

a/n:

i don't have a medical degree or anything, this is from what i've been taught in school and what i've researched online, so this could possibly be incredibly inaccurate, probably most so regarding procedure etc.

[karinab00bs]

can i req for a sumin stayc fic!

A Night to Remember

Sumin x named reader! (i hope u dont mind)

tags: smut, sex, nipple play, (semi?) public sex

”Is this the right road? We’ve been here three times,” Ethan’s words did not sound like a question. The girl who was called just now sighed softly because she didn’t go up the mountain that often. At first, Sumin had refused to join the event for a night of getting closer to each other on the mountain like this because she had no experience. Whether Sumin should be grateful or not because, at least she didn’t get lost alone.

”I don’t know.. This is also my first time.” Sumin could see Ethan’s confused face. Ethan should be able to depend on her being a senior, but unfortunately this time the man who was a year younger than her had to take over.

”Don’t stay away from me; if we get separated, it’s more trouble. I left a trail so that someone could find out that we are here, and please check your cellphone if there is a signal to contact the other student.” Ethan's intonation did not sound patronizing, but Sumin nodded obediently.

The sky was getting darker, darker than usual. Sumin glanced at her watch, and it was still seven o’clock. But somehow it felt like ten already. They should have been resting in the tents by this time and then, half an hour later, gathering around the campfire. But instead, they were lost in the seemingly unfriendly weather.

”Ethan..” called Sumin, and without many words, she held Ethan’s hand, who had just turned his head.

”Your hands are really cold; are you okay? Do you want to use my jacket?” Sumin shook her head slowly. She knew the night was cold, and she didn’t want Ethan to give up the only source of warmth he had for her.

”No, I’m just afraid of getting lost.. Can I hold your hand?” The man nodded, not objecting at all. First, he was also cold; second, Sumin, who was everyone’s crush, was holding his hand. Who would refuse?

”Btw, do you have a tent? I only have a sleeping bag in my backpack because my friend brought a tent.” Sumin had not yet answered. The sound of thunder made the girl jump in place. Ethan approached to hug and calm her. ”It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly. But, suddenly, they felt the drops of rain falling; it poured down on the two people, who did not have time to find a place until they were both soaked. Ethan pulled Sumin’s hand under a tree not far from where they were standing just now. It was still raining, but at least the branches and leaves kept them a little protected.

It was cold; Sumin’s whole body was wet from the rain, making her shiver, and she unconsciously heard the chattering of her teeth because it was too cold. Ethan turned to her and held her cold hands, giving them a gentle squeeze and rub to make them at least warmer.

”Ethan, I think the tent is in my backpack. Can you put it on?” Asked Sumin, the man nodded slowly, then unloaded Sumin’s carier. The girl sat huddled against the tree that sheltered them, her body trembling from the cold, making Ethan try his best to be quick in putting up the tent despite the rain that had begun to subside, not as hard as before.

Sumin closed her eyes while trying to hug herself. Then she felt a warm hand on her forehead and then on both cheeks. ”I’m afraid you’re sick; let’s go to the tent. I’ve put up the tent. There’s a sleeping bag, but if you can… ehm… sorry… you can just undress because your clothes is all wet.”

Sumin nodded quickly. ”Thank you, Ethan..” The sentence was replied to with Ethan’s soothing smile, which makes him look more handsome than before.

The rain began to subside, but the drops were still there. Sumin had undone all the threads attached to her body and got into the sleeping bag that Ethan had brought.

Sumin heard a sneeze from outside the tent. Ethan was cold too; she thought, “Ethan..” She called softly, but it was quite audible.

“Why? Your lips are blue for God’s sake.” Without being asked, Ethan entered the tent and helped Sumin lie back down. The man rubbed his palms together and then placed them on Sumin’s neck until warmth spread from there.

Ethan sneezed again, making the girl, who was still shivering, anxious too.

“Ethan.. come here; it’s still cold in here,” Sumin said while holding Ethan’s hand.

“My clothes are all wet; you’ll get cold,” Ethan gently refused.

“Just take off your shirt.” Sumin could see Ethan swallow. “It’s okay.. Come here.”

“If you say so..” Ethan replied that he was actually still full of hesitation, but why not instead of freezing to death?

Sumin bit her lip because she was still shivering, and now, in front of her eyes, she could see Ethan opening one cloth after another on her body. Well, the man was not typical muscular; he was quite skinny because of his height, but he looked proportional. Just look at how the man’s stomach was formed. Damn. Sumin averted her eyes because she didn’t want to look like a pervert.

“Sorry..” Ethan said it again before getting into the sleeping bag. Sumin nodded slowly. Ethan embraced Sumin’s body, which was smaller than his, in a hug. Slowly, Sumin’s felt more warm; she comfortably leaned against Ethan’s broad chest and tried to close her eyes. But suddenly she felt a hard object touching her womanhood. She looked up to look at Ethan’s face, which turned red. “I swear, Sumin, I’m sorry.. It wasn’t on purpose.

“It’s okay.. Maybe because it’s cold,” Sumin replied with red cheeks as well.

“Y-yes.. Obviously.. It was cold, and there was a beautiful naked girl hugging me so.. Sorry..” Sumin buried her face in Ethan’s chest and blushed. “I won’t do anything to you, unless you let me.. So.. If you want me as I want you.. you may.. do something to me.”

Hearing that sentence, Sumin moved and pulled the edge of the sleeping bag up to cover her head. She could hear Ethan laughing and calling her adorable.

Sumin hugged Ethan’s waist again and buried her beautiful face in his neck. There was silence, only gentle strokes on her head and back. Comfortable. Pleasant. But Ethan’s cock is still hard, still standing upright even though Ethan hasn’t spoken for a while, maybe calming down so as not to be carried away by his desire.

Sumin put one leg up around Ethan’s waist, indirectly giving Ethan’s hard cock access to tuck right into her pussy. She could feel Ethan holding his breath.

“Sumin?” called Ethan.

“Mm? It’s cold,” she replied. It was cold, but that wasn’t what Sumin really wanted.

“Do you want to try it?” Not answering, Sumin just gave a small nod, letting Ethan cheer in the day. “I’ll be slow; tell me if you want to stop. I’m not forcing you.”

Feeling he had permission, Ethan’s one hand that had been wrapped around her waist now began to boldly rub Sumin’s thigh and then slowly move her waist up and down, giving a gentle friction to their bodies. Ethan lowered his head to give light kisses on Sumin’s neck and shoulder, then down to her chest and boldly kissed the top of her breast, making Sumin bite her lip while squeezing Ethan’s shoulder. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of Ethan’s tongue moving around her cold, hardened nipples, and soon sucked gently. A sigh escaped Sumin’s lips when Ethan did the same to her other nipple, but his suction became stronger there.

“Ethan.. ahhh.. mmm..” Sumin couldn’t hold back her sigh because what Ethan was doing to her body was too much for her; just the suction on the top of her chest was making her wet. Damn it, she cursed.

“May I put my dick in?” There was nothing sweeter than that question, and Sumin nodded slowly. And slowly, Ethan makes Sumin lie down while he is on top of her, making Sumin’s face red because now Ethan is looking at her, not like a starving person but with a smile and then a peck on the lips. Crazy, he looks pro in Sumin’s mind; it seems like it is not his first time, but what the hell, Sumin likes his sweet treatment.

Sumin held her breath as Ethan’s slowly entered her, really slowly, and many times Ethan looked at Sumin’s face to see if she was in pain or not. Finally, with a single jerk, Ethan’s entered, fully fitting Sumin’s pussy.

Moans were heard, but out of embarrassment, Sumin immediately hugged Ethan’s body and hid her face, still too embarrassed to be honest that Ethan really made her feel good.

For God’s sake, Sumin also saw the reddish tinge on Ethan’s face, and soon the man began to move his waist slowly, very slowly, as if it might hurt Sumin. “Does it hurt?" He asked softly. Sumin shook her head. “If it hurts, tell me.” After that sentence, Ethan’s waist movements got faster and faster, making his whole body as well as Sumin's warmer.

“A-ahh… Ethan… nghhh…” Sumin’s moans became more uncontrollable; all her shyness and logic were gone; the only thing left was pleasure because Ethan was now stomping on her right at Sumin’s weakest point until she moaned even more crazily.

“Sumin ahh.. mmhh..” Sumin squeezed Ethan’s back, leaving strokes from her nails.

“Ethan.. again.. anghh…” hearing that Ethan precisely stomped on her favorite spot many times, roughly making Sumin look up with both eyes closed.

The man felt impatient; his movements had begun to be less gentle than before but still did not hurt, so Sumin did not protest much, letting the man warm their bodies with this activity.

Sumin’s legs wrapped around Ethan’s waist until Ethan’s went deeper. Making her womanly walls twitch and massage Ethan’s firmly.

Ethan thrust into her again quickly and deeply, making her moan in pleasure even though her back was covered in scratches. In one last stroke, both of them reached their release simultaneously, accompanied by a groan of relief.

”Ethan..” Sumin whispered amidst her unsteady breathing.

”What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” Ethan asked while rubbing Sumin’s hair and then kissing her lips once. ”Uh.. sorry, I got carried away..”

Sumin smiled, then one hand tucked behind Ethan’s nape and pushed him closer. She could feel Ethan smiling between their kisses. Sweet. Maybe that’s why Sumin kept sucking Ethan’s lower lip as if it were her favorite candy. While Ethan was busy with Sumin’s upper lip, they deepened the kiss.

”I’ll count to 10 if you two don’t come out of the tent, and I’ll report that both of you are committing perversion on the mountain.”

Sumin and Ethan panicked as they both hurriedly picked up clothes that were not fully dry and put them back on, while in the front, Sieun’s voice was heard counting to five.

”Nine… ten. Come out, or I’ll break the tent.”

Ethan came out in a hurry while putting on his jacket and smiled at Sumin’s classmate.

”Your shirt is backwards, Ethan,” Sieun looking at her friend. Sumin and Ethan exchanged glances, and then both looked down in embarrassment over what had just happened.

[nr1chaedickrider]

???

i got this idea MONTHS ago, i got finally motivation to continue this small drabble, read on your own risk, toxic!namochaeng (chae is kinda the nice one in this?), innocent!reader, idk if what happens here is 100% consentual, thigh riding, exhibitionism,use of drugs (im not an expert on this topic so dont cry if this is unrealistic) stay away from drugs pookies and also maybe this is the only time ill write something like this idk idk! im experimenting with my writing style

It was stupid, it is stupid.

Maybe you're just stupid for listening to Chaeyoung when she said "Come visit us in our apartment, I got something we can use. Unless you're scared."

And actually, the goal was just to make new friends at the university, but you didn't think you'd be standing in front of the door of an apartment that's quite far away from the university. A pungent smell hits your nose and you frown. Should you really be here? Was it really a good idea to be standing in front of an old apartment at 11 pm where three women you hardly know live?

But you can no longer think about it as Nayeon opens the door for you, a grin on her lips.

She yells through the apartment,

"Chaeyoung! She really came!" Nayeon lets out a giggle, the only thing you can make out is Momo in the background, you think that's her name, giving Chaeyoung $20.

"We made a bet, looks like she's about $40 richer now," Nayeon says, pulling you inside before slamming the door. She runs to Chaeyoung and gives her $20 too, you think you've never seen her so happy.

"Do you want to join us too? Or would you rather stand there?" she says and laughs, Momo laughs too, Nayeon takes a sip from her beer. You shake your head and walk over to Chaeyoung and sit down on the floor. Now it really hits you.

A joint, four lines of cocaine, and a few cans of beer are on the table.

"Oh," is your only reaction as you stare at the substances.

"I'm Momo, we're not in the same class but I study sports," she says, an actually nice smile on her lips.

"You already know Nayeon, you two have English together right?" Chaeyoung asks, you nod and Nayeon immediately starts laughing out loud.

"Don't be shy dear..." she holds the joint to her lips and slowly takes a drag, she exhales and a small cloud of smoke forms. She looks at you and holds the joint out for you to take a drag.

"Ehm... I-"

"Are you telling me you've never smoked a joint before?" Chaeyoung asks as she looks at you both, Momo just quietly sips her beer. You nod and look at the floor, Chaeyoung laughs a little, but then pulls you onto her lap and takes the joint.

"I can show you," she says, and at that moment it feels like she's the normal nice girl from your art class who you might have a little crush on. You nod.

"I'm going to take a drag and blow the smoke towards you, you inhale it, okay?" You nod again.

You watch as her plump lips touch the joint, she takes a puff, and as announced, she blows it towards you, you inhale it and cough, Nayeon pats your back to help, Momo comes closer.

Only now do you realize what the situation is actually like, you on Chaeyoung's lap, on her bare legs because she's only wearing shorts, Nayeon so close to your right, Momo to your left. You feel yourself blush and everyone starts laughing at the sight of you being so confused.

"Try it yourself now..." Chaeyoung says and hands you the joint, you look at her, then at the small joint between your fingers.

"I don't know..." you say and look away, Nayeon grabs your chin, but somehow so gently. She lifts it up so that you're forced to look atleast to one of them. Your eyes fall on Chaeyoung. Nayeon comes closer and whispers in your ear,

"You don't want to let us down, do you? We're your friends." she whispers, but loud enough for Momo and Chaeyoung to hear, both grinning and nodding.

"She's right, we don't want anything bad for you, a little fun never hurt anyone" Momo says, you look to the cocaine on the coffee table.

"What about this...?" you ask, Chaeyoung laughs.

"I don't know if we'll get to that today" she says, you nod slowly.

You take the joint between your fingers and bring it to your lips, slowly taking a drag, your eyes water slightly and you have to start coughing as little puffs of smoke come out. Nayeon caresses your back, Chaeyoung your thighs, her cold hands on your warm body sends a shiver down your spine.

"Well done," she says, you feel yourself getting a little dizzy, but you try to ignore it.

"See, it wasn't that hard," says Momo, taking the joint out of your hand as she takes the last puff.

You suddenly feel a finger on your skirt, you look at Chaeyoung and see her smile, again the one she usually only showed in class when you were working together. You smile slightly too as you relax (you're not sure though if its because of the smoking or because you feel safe..),

Nayeon's hands are on your waist, she moves you back and forth on Chaeyoung's lap, you hold a hand in front of your mouth to keep your voice down, Momo starts kissing your neck, her lips moist and soft.

"Don't hide your moans, pretty girl.." Chaeyoung says, taking your hand away, she lets you hold it as she tenses up her thigh, adding extra stimulation.

Momo's hands move down to play with your tits through your thin shirt, your nipples getting hard immideatly, making Momo let out a breathy chuckle.

Nayeon keeps her attention to rocking your hips back and forth on Chaeyoung's thigh.

"You're doing so good" Chaeyoung says as she watches you, the praise making your head even fuzzier than it already is.

You feel your body going a little limp, hoping that is normal while smoking. You moan quietly while holding onto Chaeyoung's hand, your body twitching when your clit hits her thigh in a certain angle.

"Are you close baby?" Nayeon asks, you nod as your grip on Chaeyoung's hand gets tighter, making her giggle a little. Nayeon begins to move you faster, like a little toy with no ability to move on its own.

You bite your lower lip as your moans get louder and you feel yourself getting closer, Momo praising you as she pinches your nipple and kisses your neck, biting it a little to leave marks.

"I'm-" you start saying uncohorent things as you cum onto Chaeyoung's thigh. Twitching and gripping her hand until you slowly stop moving and fall down on her chest, passing out immideatly.

"We should've been friends earlier.." she says and the other girls agree with a smirk, looking at the untouched cocaine.

[aurorawritestoescape]

SWALLOW || Joel Miller x f!reader || 650

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, m!oral, cum eating, soft Joel, pet names ‘babygirl’, ‘sweetheart’

A/n: I need Joel Miller in my mouth! I wrote it fast to satiate the need. no beta-ed bc she’s asleep @milla-frenchy 😘 hope you all will enjoy this lil thing♥️

MASTERLIST

*****

“Hey, hey, shit, wait, sweetheart,” Joel gently places his warm, slightly sweaty palm under your jaw and lifts your head off his hard cock. You whine missing his throbbing manhood in your mouth.

“Gonna come soon, babygirl.”

His brows are pulled together as he’s looking at you with an apologetic smile.

“Ok,” you nod, blinking at him with an air of confusion in your blown out eyes, and then gently lick his glistening tip. You dart your tongue out more and press it to the underside of his head ready to swallow his whole length again.

With a grunt Joel sits up straighter and, placing his big hands on your cheeks, makes you pull his length out of your mouth again.

You grunt this time, frustrated by the lack of his cock between your lips.

“Joel, what?!”

Your anger makes him chuckle but you don’t share his cheer right now. You’re digging your nails into his hairy thighs, as your eyes are boring into the man.

“Ya sucking me so good, I might come in your mouth. Let me come on your pretty tits, babygirl.”

“But —but… I want it in my mouth”.

“Ehm, really? Ya gonna…? Fuck, ok.”

After you reassure him with at least three nods, his hands leave your head alone and he leans back as your lips envelop his cock.

His length, now cold and wet, slides easily into your hot mouth and Joel gently pats your head with a moan of pleasure, “oh, sweetheart…”

You warm it up in your mouth a bit and then begin massaging his cock with your lips and tongue, helping yourself with your hand, hungry, ready for anything he’ll give you.

It doesn’t take long, before Joel takes a sharp breath, his fat cock twitches a few times, his balls draw up in your hand and you feel the first jet of cum hit the roof of your mouth. You hastily take him deeper, sucking around his pulsating cock, slurping loudly, accompanying his low growling. He squirts more and more of his warm load into your mouth but you don’t drink it, not yet.

You curve your tongue, not letting the salty liquid slide out of your mouth or down your throat. You store it, and when his cock stops twitching, you close your lips tightly around it and move your mouth up and off his gorgeous length, trying not to spill a drop. When you lift your head, you see Joel pant heavily with a content smile, looking at you with adoration and gratitude.

“Thank you, babygirl,” he says and you smile back at him, still keeping your lips shut.

He realizes what you want and his face gets dark again as he says,

“Show me.”

While your chest flutters with excitement, you lift your chin and carefully and slowly open your lips. He sits up to see better inside your mouth and you hear him grunt as he sees a pool of his creamy cum, sitting on your tongue.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” is all he manages to say, as he squeezes your thigh and rubs it with his calloused palm.

You close your mouth and swallow loudly, sending his load down your throat in one go. Then you lick your lips, twisted in a proud smile, and he’s beaming at you.

“My sweet girl. So good to me,” he praises you, as his hand wraps around the nape of your neck and he pulls you into his embrace, catching your lips with his.

He’s kissing you passionately, not caring about his taste in your mouth, and now it’s your turn to be amazed.

“I love you,” you whisper into the corner of his mouth and he mumbles back, “Love you, babygirl,” as he’s hugging you tightly.

****

Thank you for reading!😘 Please, comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! It motivates me a lot!🌺

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[milaisreading]

Exes

Author: I wrote this while I was taking a break from studying, so I thought, why not post it as a 1k special! Hope u all like it

Warning: None in particular(?) Some insults are thrown here and there. Y/n uses she/her

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Let's break up." (Y/n)'s eyes widened in surprise as she stared at the boy across the table. This wasn't what she expected to happen on Valentine's day of all times. Both her and her boyfriend were at a café near their school, having a cliché date that (Y/n) really enjoyed so far. The food was nice, the weather was great and overall she enjoyed her time with her boyfriend, but as she came to realize she was the only one who was having a nice time. She put her fork down and nervously gulped, her appetite for the cake already gone.

"Ehm... are you serious, (Ex/n)?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well... I thought that our relationship was doing well and... a break up was the last thing on my mind." (Y/n) laughed nervously as the boy took a deep breath.

"You can't use that brain as usually."

"What-"

"You don't think. I gave you so many passes in the past how your behavior is embarrassing. I mean, you are so loud and eat way too much, it's weird." (Y/n) gulped down a sob as the boy fixed his glasses and continued speaking.

"You should be lucky anyone lasted this long with you. Let's just end this now and never interact again, unless it's school related."

"Alright..." (Y/n) said quietly, not wanting to cause any scene in the café.

"(Y/n)... (Y/n)!" The girl jumped up at the sound of Anri's voice and she shook her head, looking over at the concerned woman.

"Sorry Teieri-san, I for lost in my thoughts." (Y/n) said sheepishly as Anri slowly nodded her head.

"I can see that, but are you alright? You have been zoning out a lot lately."

"Yeah, don't worry. I was just thinking of someone." (Y/n) admitted as they continued walk towards Ego's office. The woman looked at the younger for a moment before smirking and nudging her.

"A boy back home?" Anri teased and (Y/n) smiled sadly, a little down over the recent memory she had of him.

"Ah... you could say that..."

"You don't seem all too happy about him. Did something happen?" Anri raised her eyebrow as (Y/n) looked around nervously before slowly nodding her head. Truth is, she never really told anyone about the break up. Her brother and dad wouldn't be of much help of they heard what he told her, and Isabella would have definitely told her brother, so she just kept everything to herself. Why did she even remember him? Was it the nervousness before the match against Japan's national team? She didn't know, but the memories were anything but pleasant.

"Kinda... we had a bad break up." (Y/n) gave Anri a strained smile.

"You can always talk to me. I know a thing or two about break-ups." The woman said, patting the girl's back. Something in her words hit (Y/n) pretty hard and she started sobbing when the memories started hitting her again.

'This is pathetic...' She thought as Anri started calming her down while pulling her into a hug.

"Shhh... let's go and make some tea, you can tell me what happened if that will help. What do you say?" Anri asked quietly as (Y/n) nodded her head.

"Thank you..."

What neither of the 2 noticed was three pairs of eyes watching them like hawks as their figures started growing farther and farther away.

"Did I hear that correctly? Some nobody caused (Y/n) this much distress?" Karasu grinned maniacally as he clenched his fists.

"I don't know who that asshole thinks he is, but he definitely isn't worth those tears." Yukimiya mused, wondering how he can figure out the guy's identity.

"Murder is legal, right?" Otoya questioned as he looked at his two friends.

"It is, if you plan it correctly." Karasu's grin widened while Yukimiya readjusted his glasses.

"Let's go and inform the rest about this. Maybe Reo can hire someone."

"Ha? (Y/n) had a boyfriend?" Gagamaru asked as Yukimiya finished repeating what he and his two friends heard. Bachira was twitching next to him and some could swear they saw a shadow fall over him.

"Well, I did expect (Y/n) to have been popular with guys... she is so sweet and thoughtful after all." Isagi said with a smile as he thought of their manager, trying to surpass the jealousy in the process.

"Can't believe some guy got to her before I did... well, thankfully he is an ex now." Niko mused as Hiori and Kurona nodded in agreement.

"The guy fumbled so bad, if I was him I would have never let her go." Hiori said as Kurona turned his attention to Karasu.

"There is something you 3 aren't telling us. Spit it out." The boy said, curious about the menacing looks the three had.

"Yeah, while I understand you 3 being jealous, there is something off about the way you guys are acting." Chigiri chimed in.

"Ohh... you guys want to know?" Otoya raised an eyebrow.

"Yes we do. Quite obviously it's something important when Karasu nearly broke his water bottle." Barou sighed, pointing at the bent item.

"Well, that asshole not only broke up with her, but he seemed to have done something worse." Otoya said as he cracked his knuckles.

"And waht would that be?" Aryu asked as the room fell silent, everyone looking at the trio in anticipation and bloodlust.

"We don't know yet, but it was quite bad when she broke down in tears. I will give him a punch for every tear he caused." Karasu grumbled as the rest froze at the statement. Sure, they saw (Y/n) upset at times, but crying? Never, and it was something they never wanted to happen. But alas it did, and they needed to get revenge.

"Did you get the name of the asshole?" Rin asked as he was shaking in rage.

"Sadly no, otherwise you guys would be 3 players short." Yukimiya answered as calmly as possible.

"Ne~ Reo, can you somehow figure the bastard's name out?" Nagi groaned as he pulled on the shirt of an equally pissed of Reo. The boy tsked, if only he had his phone.

"Can you make murder legal?" Bachira chimed in, ready to let his rage out on the unknown boy.

"I will try my best, that bastard lost such a treasure and treated her poorly too." The purple-haired boy groaned.

The day of the big game came and everyone at Blue Lock was beyond nervous and excited, this game will decide everything. The stadium was filled with fans and families, who came to cheer the players on. While the Blue Lock players were getting pep talks from their families, (Y/n) was smiling in fondness at them. Niko just stood silently next to her, looking around the place. As (Y/n) turned her attention to the rest of the stadium, she froze when she saw 3 familiar figures.

'Nooo! What is he doing here?! And why are my friends with him?!' (Y/n) gulped as she saw two of her high school friends talking happily with her ex. A sense of betrayal hit her and Niko tensed up at the shift of her mood.

"Are you alright?" The blue-eyed boy asked as (Y/n) slowly nodded her head, laughing nervously.

"Yeah... it's just that I saw someone I didn't expect." (Y/n) said, trying to pull Niko towards the rest of the team, hoping the trio didn't notice her.

"Hey! (Y/n)!!!" The girl flinched as both her and Niko turned to look at a brown haired girl as the blonde next to her waved her hand.

"Ahh! You two are here, too?!" The girl said nervously, letting go of Niko, who observed the trio in wonder.

"Not just us, (Ex/n) is here too! Romantic, right?!" The boy readjusted his glasses and nervously waved at her.

"You know them?" Niko asked and (Y/n) nodded her head.

"Yeah, those two girls are my friends from school."

"And the dude?"

"Oh... we used to date for a short while. I wonder why he is here..." (Y/n) said absent-mindedly as Niko's eyes widened and slowly narrowed, making a mental note of his face.

'That... that dude made (Y/n) cry? The audacity!'

"What took you so long?" Isagi asked as Niko walked into the locker room.

"Yeah, you were pretty cozy out there." Reo rolled his eyes.

"Shut it. I figured out who the trash is." Niko said. Gagamaru raised an eyebrow at the answer and Bachira tilted his head.

"What trash?"

"The guy who broke up and made (Y/n) cry. Literally the lowest form of life for not only that, but also in looks." Niko cringed as Chigiri spit out his water.

"Where is he?! Will I be able to kick a ball in his face?" The redhead asked as Rin shook Niko a few times.

"Why didn't you call us over sooner? I would have thought that trash a lesson or two."

"I would have killed him, to be quite honest with you." Kurona chimed in. Hiori and Aryu held Karasu and Barou back from barging out of the room to search for the guy. They didn't want to upset (Y/n) before the game, now after... after they will turn a blind eye to whatever they decide to do.

"That ugly piece of shit." Nagi muttered.

"Let's just win this game, and after we can worry about him." Otoya suggested, holding back his own anger.

"And what do you suggest we do with him?" Gagamaru wondered, but instead Yukimiya answered instead.

"Easy, we will let Barou, Nagi, Karasu, Rin, Aryu and you handle him. The rest of us will keep (Y/n) away in case she wants to look for him."

"What?! I want to hit him!" Bachira protested.

"We all want to, but we can't just leave (Y/n) all alone, she will grow suspicious." Isagi interjected, more interested in her well-being than in the guy right now.

"And besides, the height of them will be enough to scare him off." Niko added in.

"He is short?" Reo asked.

"Yep. (Y/n) did charity work there." The black-haired boy nodded.

After the game had ended (Y/n) was sent out to get some extra towels and a few other things. The euphoria of the boys winning made her a little bit unaware of her space, so she didn't notice the team watching as she left, nor did she notice her ex running right after her till it was too late.

"(Y/n)! Wait!" The girl froze on the spot and slowly turned around to look at the boy.

"Oh... (Ex/n)... did you need something?" (Y/n) asked nervously, backing away little by little.

"I... I wanted to talk with you. The last time we really spoke..."

"You broke up and insulted me." (Y/n) finished for him, a mix of sadness and anger bubbling up in her.

"Was it really insulting if I said the truth?" The boy raised his eyebrow as the girl clenched her fists.

"Yes, yes it is. You had nor right to tell me all those things, a simple break up would have been enough. Especially when the things I did were normal and not bothering anyone. Please just leave me alone." (Y/n) glared at the boy, who was pretty surprised at her response.

"So Blue Lock taught you how to speak-"

"And you weren't taught any manners." (Y/n)'s eyes widened in surprise as she saw Karasu and Nagi grab the boy's shoulders.

"What are you two doing here?" (Y/n) raised her eyebrow, surprised they left the group.

"We wanted to see where you are. Chigiri needs help." Aryu added, making his presence known.

"Chigiri?"

"Yeah! Come on! I will bring you to him!" Bachira's voice was heard as he ran to where (Y/n) was grabbing the girl's arm.

"Bachira-"

"Let's go!" The brunette cheered, sending a menacing smile towards the shaken up boy and dragged her away. Once out of eyes and ears shot, Rin, Gagamaru and Barou made their presence known and sent the boy death stares.

"So, care to repeat what you told (Y/n) on the day you broke up with her?" Nagi said coldly.

"You can do it civilly or we can force you to say it." Rin added in. The ex gulped as the taller boys sent daggers his way.

"Spit it out, dumbass." Barou demanded.

"Shouldn't we wait for the rest?" (Y/n) questioned Bachira as his hold on her arm tightened.

"Nah~ they will join us soon, anyways!"

[sthavoc]

watched ariana's new mv and was thinking maybe enzo angst where his ex writes the song + mv and he's trying to get into contact with her because he still loves her

࿔* 📞 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: desperate!enzo x singer!fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: after listening to your new song and watching the music video, Enzo attempts his best to reach out to you, but there’s no answer from you.

·˚ ༘ warnings: angst, man crying, desperation, heartbreak, feeling of anxiety.

·˚ ༘ note: I was watching the mv for the first time to get a vision and it touched my heart. imagine just being able to easily erase the memories of a person that you don’t want anymore with just a test? this one is sad for me… idk how I wrote this for enzo.. lloro

It was very clear to Enzo from the moment the relationship ended, that he would give you your space, but there would be a moment where he would try and fight for you. Didn’t matter if it took days, weeks, months, or years. The man would fight.

But his world crumbled after he listened to your new song, and watched the music video.

We can’t be friends.

The term the both of you had agreed to stay at least for the moment. Why did you change your mind? What made it different? And did you really feel like you couldn’t be your complete self around him?

Just thinking about all these questions had Enzo’s head spinning around, with nothing else in his apartment but the laptop in front of him, and your voice coming out of the small speakers. He felt the lump in his throat building with the tears up in his eyes.

He had at least replayed the video three times, going on the fourth. The last scene would hit him like a stone wall that would increase its strength after counting how many times he would come back to it. If it was possible and the naked eye could see, or even the ear could hear so very clearly the sound of his heart breaking, it would sound like a million mirrors smashing all at once. Nothing would be able to stop them apart from you.

The tear ran down his cheek, almost coming close to his lip. He was able to taste the saltiness. His knee trembled nonstop, up and down, with hands clasped in front and resting them on his knee. Debates after debates about whether he should call you or not. His phone was only next to his computer.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn't push your boundaries, but he just wanted to hear your voice and talk about the situation. So he picked up the phone and dialed your number. He let it ring. With his heart hanging on his hand and the feeling of the anxiety of not knowing if you would pick up or not.

And yeah, no answer.

“Please leave your voice message—” voicemail.

Should he leave a voicemail? Or call again? He would call again. If you don’t pick up he’ll leave a voicemail. And so he did, but no answer. Only this time it didn’t even ring. His call was sent straight to voicemail.

“Ehm, hola bonita. Escuché tu nueva canción y quería decir que está muy buena, y el— el vídeo también.” He could feel the swelling growing again, making it hard for him to speak, and swallow. “Solo quería saber si podías hablar por unos minutos pero me imagino que estás ocupada.” He bit his upper lip in an attempt to not let the tears fall, but even as soon as his eyes closed, his lashes let go of the tears. “Regrésame la llamada cuando puedas. ¿Sí?— te quiero… chau.” He pressed the red button.

Sobs were being mixed with your voice singing in the background, and Enzo sitting back down on his couch. The palms of his hands were placed on his eyes as he forced them back trying to stop the tears. That even when he opened his eyes he was seeing stars from the pressure he had added. But there was nothing, nothing could stop them.

He let the minutes pass, and the sniffles continued, with a constant check-up on his phone and still no answer from you. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table again, going into your contact. The photo he had taken of you lying down in bed with his shirt on had remained his contact photo. He didn’t have the guts to change it or even the contact name he had you under. He still had you as ‘mi chiquita’.

He dialed your number for the third time after what had been almost an hour now. He hoped this time you would pick up. But to his luck, it sent him to voicemail, again. This made it no different.

“Nena, por favor… devolmeme la llamada. Se que no queres hablar conmigo pero solo quiero que me expliques si todo lo que decís en esa canción es verdad.” He didn’t even take a moment to breathe as he spoke into the line. “Me estoy volviendo loco. Dejame arreglarlo, sea lo que sea, dame una oportunidad para cambiar las cosas. Te lo ruego.” His fingers gripped the strands of his dark hair. Knuckles were turning white from the lack of blood that dispersed around it.

He stared at his laptop that had other videos of you plastered on the screen and your icon photo on the corner. “Quisiera poder haberme dado cuenta de todo esto cuando estábamos juntos. Tal ves, hubiera sido diferente— las cosas hubieran sido diferentes.” There was a pause in his sentence, but when he was about to start talking again his voicemail cut off. Saying the limit had been reached.

Great.

Enzo felt as if he had let you down. Even now, through the whole relationship. He wanted to fight for your love, but it wasn’t up to him anymore. It was you. You had the final word.

But if your answer was to ever be the opposite of yes, Enzo wouldn't know what he would do with himself.

Either way, something inside him told him he had lost you, that he had to give it up because there was nothing he could do that would get you back.

“El día de nuestra luna de miel, te voy a llevar al mar, y te mostraré, que la forma en la que las olas chocan contra la orilla, es la forma en cómo el amor que siento por vos choca contra todo dentro mí, derrumbándome ante tu disposición.”

Guess that day will never come.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eleven

summary: you receive bad news, but luca is there for you. and it seems like he's intent on continuing to be there for you.

warnings: angst, grief, death, vomiting, fluff, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 3.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist (specifically 'how to mend a broken heart' - al green & 'love' - kendrick lamar; another very will poulter-coded choice)

a/n: pov: it's me warning you that there is in fact angst but trust, babes. trust. after the trauma of meeting donna b in season 2, i wanted to explore characters who had positive relationships with their mothers. so if you have not picked up on it yet, this story is also about mothers **cries because it's too damn sweet. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part ten | masterlist | part twelve

Astrid: Hey give me a call when you’re up. 

I don’t want to worry you, but we need to talk. 

Your fingers hurriedly move to open up the multiple missed notifications that you have from her, holding the phone up to your ear so that you can listen to her voicemail next. 

“Hey… I know you’re probably still asleep right now,” you hear, her voice somber, as you listen to Astrid’s voicemail, left for you at three in the morning. “And I know that you’ve got your do not disturb on. But I really need to talk. Call me when you’re up.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest as your mind races with fears over what this could be about, and as your eyes scroll through the other missed notifications, you see something that stops you in your tracks: 

1 Missed Call from Joe

And it all suddenly feels real, a sense of dread fills your throat, and you can only imagine that it must be an emergency if both Astrid and Joe have called. Your mind races. It can’t be about Joe – if he called too, right?

The severity of the situation forces you to sit up straight as you steal a glance Luca’s way. You’re grateful that he’s such a heavy sleeper as you peel the covers back, tiptoeing out into the living room so that you don’t wake Luca. Your fingers shake as they hover over Astrid’s name, before tapping down on the screen so that you can give her a call back. 

It only rings twice before Astrid answers, a tiredness in the way her voice sounds, as if she hasn’t slept all night. 

“Hey, Astrid. What’s going on?” you ask, a panic that colors your voice as you wait for her reply. 

The anticipation builds in every moment of silence she leaves between the two of you. 

“It’s mum. Ehm…” she trails off, her voice breaking. 

No. 

It’s as if your worst nightmare is coming true – like no matter how many times you’ve rehearsed this scenario in your head, prepared for it, braced for it, nothing softens the blow of the words that Astrid utters. 

“She’s gone. She passed. Early this morning,” Astrid finally says, a sob following. “We’re still at the hospital right now.” 

As Astrid begins to cry, you let her, even though you feel like you can’t breathe. Through her tears, she tries her best to explain what happened and you can feel yourself going numb as you listen. You can barely process what she’s saying as the words wash over you, a deep pain building in your belly with each detail she shares: that mum hadn’t been feeling well late last night, that she had a fever of 104 F and that’s when they knew she had to be taken to the hospital, that she passed a few hours later. 

It was sudden. 

It was quick. 

And now, Astrid’s whole world – your whole world, and Joe’s – has changed forever.

All you can do is attempt to breathe, to listen, and try your best not to drop your phone as your hands tremble.

You can feel it, a sickening feeling that wells up from your belly and into your throat as you croak out:

“Astrid, I’m so sorry.”

“After everything we’ve been through, all the rounds of chemo… I just can’t believe that overnight she’s gone,” Astrid whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. “I just-, I thought we’d have more time.”

“I know. Me too,” you agree quietly. 

It doesn’t feel real, and you wonder if you’re just in denial. 

“I’m so sorry to call like this. But I thought you should know,” Astrid apologizes, clearing her throat as she continues. “‘M sure I ruined your high from the all-night shag-fest with the hot pastry chef, now didn’t I?”

You chuckle, in response to her attempt to lighten the mood. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you called,” you reassure her, your voice soft. 

“I’ve got to go. Joe and I are going to try to grab something to eat and ehm, try to get a hold of Lina. I’ll keep you posted on everything. On all the details, you know… about… anything we do,” Astrid informs you, trying her best to pull herself together.  

“But I just wanted you to know and ehm, well, I know Joe called.”

“No, I-. Yeah,” you stammer through, at a loss for words. “I… I’ll give him a call. And thank you… for calling me. Thank you for telling me.”

Astrid nods solemnly, “She loved you like one of us.”

You swallow, as a stream of tears streak your cheeks 

“Yeah I… I love – loved – her too.” 

You clear your throat, unaware that your hands have begun to shake. 

“And please keep me posted. I’d like to be there… at the funeral. If you think it’s appropriate.”

“‘Course,” Astrid agrees. “I love you. Call you later?”

“Please. And… yes,” you say, adding if it’s a promise:

“I love you too.”

As soon as you hang up the phone, it’s as if your body knows something you don’t – like your brain hasn’t quite processed the news, racing your body to intellectualize everything you’ve just heard, so your body has to take over instead. Your stomach flips, and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with the urge to vomit. You sprint to your small apartment bathroom, throwing the toilet seat up with a clang as you begin to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet, in an uncontrollable physical response.

The sound of you retching, coughing up the last of it, seems to wake up Luca. You brace yourself against the toilet, flushing it as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Your body feels fragile and your mind races as you reach behind you for the towel that lays folded over your towel bar, clutching it towards you. 

“My love, is everything alright?” you hear his voice, as Luca stirs, sitting up in bed. 

The sound of his footsteps heading towards you fill your ears, and as they get closer and closer to you, Luca appears in the doorway, his eyes squinting from how jarring of a wakeup he’s just had. You look up at him, noticing the way his face has twisted itself into a look of concern, swallowing as you rack your brain, searching for a way to explain what just happened. 

“Well, the good news is that I’m not pregnant,” is all that comes out, in sheer disbelief that you’ve chosen to make a joke at this moment. Luca only looks more concerned, more worried, more confused, so you shake your head this time, muttering an apology under your breath. “Uh… remember when I told you… my ex’s mom… she got really sick and we had to move to the UK because of it?”

“Yeah,” he answers, unsure of what this has to do with why you’re stuck to the bathroom floor. 

“I-. Astrid, his sister, just called. She uh…” you trail off, because it feels like you can’t get the words out of your mouth – like if you say it out loud, it’d make it all the more real. 

Your voice, this time much somber, croaks out the words, and you feel sick to your stomach again.

“She passed… last night,” you finally say again, a wave of nausea coming over you. 

“Oh, my love,” Luca sighs empathetically, as his heart falls at the news. “I’m so sorry.”

But before he can say anything else, you’re folded over the toilet once more, caught up in a competition with your own body of which could be worse: dry heaving or vomiting. Instead of leaving, Luca takes a few steps towards you, sitting down next to you as he rubs soothing patterns across your back, as you work this out. What feels like forever, and simultaneously, barely a few seconds, your back is pressed against the wall as you try your best to get your heart rate back down. 

The cold floor and the rigid wall that you’ve pressed your back against feels grounding, perhaps the only thing tethering you to this world. Luca sits with you quietly, but his presence can be felt in tonnes. It’s strong, steady, comforting, with care and love in every single touch and touch he sends your way. 

After a few minutes of letting you stare at the wall blankly, Luca gets up, kneeling on his knees as he offers his hands to you. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you some water and back into bed,” Luca suggests. “I’ll call Jesper and Mathilde. Let them know you’re not going in today.”

You nod, sliding both of your hands into his as he helps to your feet. 

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

“How are you doing, babe?” Luca asks you, as you wake up from your nap. 

You’re grateful that he called in today, after the news, and called in for you as well. After your phone call with Astrid, not to mention hurling the entire contents of your stomach (and then some) into the toilet this morning, you’d crawled back into bed and fallen asleep. It hadn’t been great sleep – more so an avoidance mechanism than anything else, you realize – as you begin to come to. 

“Jesper was just here. Came by to drop off food,” Luca adds, as you move onto your side so that you can face him. “They’re worried about you.”

“I’m not hungry,” is all you manage to say. 

He nods, “For later maybe.” 

He pauses, before repeating his question from earlier. 

“How are you doing? What can I do?

You think it over, only slightly upset with yourself for being annoyed at his question. Of course he’s only trying to be helpful, only trying to care for you through this horrible thing. But it’s not like there’s anything he can do to take your pain away either, which, it’s silly you know, is what bothers you so much about his ask. 

But as you look over at the man who wants nothing more than to love you, and you know he’s only trying to be helpful in an unwinnable situation.

You muster up your best smile, because you want to reassure him that you’re sort of-kind-of-okay, and you’d rather try than be a jerk right now. 

“Come back to bed?” you ask him, your voice lifting at the end of the question. “I think I just want you to hold me.”

“Sounds like something that could be arranged,” Luca replies with a smile on his face, in an attempt to lighten up the mood a little. 

As you lay on your side, Luca curls up behind you, engulfing you in his arms as he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, tangling his legs with yours underneath the covers. And you’re right. It does make you feel better – being held by him – and you’re glad that you chose not to push him away. 

After a few beats, and a thick silence between the two of you, Luca finally speaks again.

“Do you want to tell me about her?”

Do you?

You debate with yourself whether or not you want to, because on one hand you feel weird about it – asking Luca to listen to you talk about how much you loved your ex husband’s mother – and on the other, you’re afraid. 

Afraid it’ll hurt too much. 

Afraid it may break you open. 

Eventually, the part of you that leans towards saying ‘yes’ wins, as you answer with:

“Yeah. I think that might be helpful.” 

Luca nods behind you, before nuzzling his nose into the space between your neck and your shoulders. He leaves soft kisses against your skin that have no intention of being anything but a comforting gesture. 

“Astrid said something on the phone earlier. That she loved me like one of them,” you start, your voice caught in your throat as you say it. 

“And she did. She embraced me as her own… like…” you trail off, chuckling as you recall your favorite memories of Aiko Kimura. 

“She was beyond upset to learn that I didn’t grow up pleating dumplings around the table when I was a kid, which was… I think maybe the first thing we ever cooked together. She pulled out all the stops. Made a huge thing of it and made Joe, Astrid, and Lina join us so that I could get the real family experience.”

“And every time after that… she always wanted to teach me something new, something I could learn, carry with me,” you continue, the memories so fond and the feeling so bittersweet. 

“She was all about… slowing down, using the senses, no-recipe kind of stuff. I think it’s where I got so much of my heart from. In my food.”

You’re really not sure how you’re keeping it together, but, you decide, you might as well lean into the sweetness for now. 

“I should do a dish. For her. At the restaurant,” you declare, coming to the conclusion as the words leave your lips. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Luca agrees, leaving another soft kiss along your shoulder. 

“To honor her. You know?” you add. 

Luca only hums in response, his arms wrapped around your frame holding you tighter against his chest. 

You wait a beat. 

Then another, your thoughts, moving a mile a minute from being plunged into grief from this devastating loss. 

“I’m nervous – about going to London,” you confess, softly. You like to ask, usually, if it’s okay – if Luca wants to hear about these kinds of things – but it feels virtually unavoidable. 

“I haven’t been back since Joe and I divorced… since I moved here. But I think I should. For the funeral.”

“Do you think it’ll be soon?” Luca asks, as you turn your head to look at him, checking that this is a conversation he’s willing to have. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I’m waiting for Astrid to tell me. But Lina’s, their youngest sister, has been studying abroad – Singapore – so… I don’t know.”

“I’m just nervous… about it all, I guess. A lot’s changed. I’ve… changed.”

At this point you’re just thinking out loud, no longer able to contain the stream of consciousness that flows from with an ease that makes you anxious. 

Of course, you’ve changed. You have a new life here. You’re a you that you’ve never been before, having shed the layers of your past self like a snake shedding its skin. The realization is striking, while your ambivalence to return to your previous home in your new form feels more and more significant. 

It’s Luca’s turn to be quiet as he thinks over whether or not the idea in his head is appropriate to suggest, figuring, the worst thing you can do is say ‘no.’ 

“I could go with you,” he offers, quiet, yet sure. 

Oh. 

“But if you don’t feel like it would be right… under the circumstances…” Luca continues, in fear of making things more complicated for you. 

“No I-. What do you-, like… in what capacity?” you interject, hesitant about the question that you’re bringing up. 

You’re not sure why it’s taken this long for either of you to articulate it, especially since you’ve already called him your boyfriend to your friends, to your mom, but the naming, the voicing of the sacred label is still something you haven’t done. 

You don’t want to overcomplicate things, considering it already feels complicated, so what you’re really asking him is:

How would I introduce you?

“I was thinking… as your boyfriend,” Luca answers, slowly. “But if you think it’s too much – introducing me during this-.” 

“No, I. Yes! I want to,” you’re quick to reply, reassuring him that you’re still all in, even in the midst of this loss – especially in the midst of this loss. You wiggle your body so that you’re now facing him, your chests pressed together, and you wonder if he can feel yours pounding away. 

“Yes. I want you to come. I… I want to introduce you to them… to everyone, as my boyfriend.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Luca leans in to press a short kiss to your lips before nodding in agreement: “Okay.”

You wait a beat, almost as if you think he’ll take it back, considering the circumstances. Only, he doesn’t, so you have to ask. 

“You would really do that?”

“Yeah,” he replies, simply. 

“I mean.. It’s just going to be a lot. It’s… a fucking funeral,” you continue to list, giving him every ‘out’ that you can possibly think of. “And you’d have to meet Joe. Which I can only imagine will be incredibly uncomfortable considering the circumstances and I’m not even sure what to expect because Joe and I have barely talked in months and I-.” 

You know you’re rambling, but you can’t help yourself. 

“Luca, I don’t know if I can ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to, my love. I offered,” he says, as one of his hands cradles your head, his eyes on yours. 

“Plus, I don’t have to be with you the whole time. I know it’s going to be a tough trip for a lot of reasons. I could give you some space while we’re there too, so you don’t feel you have to entertain me. I’ll go see my mum, catch up with a friend….”

His reassurance seems to quell your nerves and you’re no longer panicking (as much) about introducing your people to your new boyfriend while grieving the loss of their matriarch. But you want him there. You so want him there. You want his support, and when he’s so willingly offering it to you, volunteering to enter the lion’s den with you, how can you say ‘no?’

“Why are you so good to me?” is all that comes out of your mouth. 

“Because I-,” Luca begins, pausing as he carefully chooses his next few words. You watch as he debates with himself, his decision clear when he opens his mouth again to say:

“Because you deserve it, babe.”

It’s then and there that you wonder what he was going to say before, half expecting him to say, ‘because I love you.’ 

But he doesn’t, and in some ways, you’re glad that whatever internal decision he made, that it wasn’t that. It’s not that you don’t want him to, because you’ve been feeling it too. It’s in every pause before you hang up the phone with him. It’s in the moments that you say your goodbyes for the morning or the evening that you watch the impulse, though fleeting, flash through his eyes. It’s in the way that you feel it so deeply in your bones that it makes you ache in the best kinds of ways. 

 You don’t want your first ‘I love you’ to be tainted with the grief and sadness surrounding this moment, but it’s been on your mind ever since your trip to Skagen. You think maybe you dreamed it, hearing him call you the love of his life, but whether or not it was real, those three words have hung heavily between the two of you ever since. 

“Thank you,” is all you say, before you repeat it again. 

“Thank you.”

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

Everything feels off. You can’t cry. 

And you’ve tried. 

But ever since Luca left to run an errand, to run to the store, you’ve felt off-kilter. 

Perhaps it’s because you’ve had him to distract you this whole time. 

Perhaps it’s because you’re trying to be strong for everyone: for Astrid, for Lina, who you’ve been texting with all day – trying to coordinate a time to FaceTime – for yourself. 

Perhaps it’s because you haven’t called Joe yet. 

But, you’ve decided, you really need to cry. 

You pick up the phone, knowing exactly what you need to do, knowing exactly who you can let yourself completely fall apart with. 

The phone rings a few times before the person on the other line picks up, and as soon as you hear the silence on the other line, waiting for you to speak first since you called first. 

“Mom?”

And she can hear it in your voice as it breaks, concern and worry filling her every word and she asks: 

“Oh sweetie. What happened?”

And finally, you can let go.