#gonna insert a cut in a second

[calicoheartz]

꣑୧ — summary | just thinking about phone sex with her . . . ♡

— warnings | nsfw under the cut. read at your own discretion

read more slutty thots here !

your girlfriend had been away on a work conference for more than a week , and it was safe to say that you were missing , no , craving the feeling over her long fingers in between your thighs.

your girlfriend had called you as she did every night when she was away , whether it was to check in on you or just to hear your voice.

she was staring at you so intently, admiring you as you laid below your fluffy white sheets , merely wearing anything except a pair of black lace panties.

when you adjusted the camera , you saw her eyes slightly widen ; a smirk forming on her lips. You quickly moved the camera to show nothing but your face , muttering a simple “oops , sorry my love” , as you wait for the reaction to appear onto her face.

“oh so that’s what you wanted to do huh? such a needy girl for me especially when I’m away?” she spits out as her voice deepens , eliciting a soft , but audible moan to escape your lips.

you quickly adjust the camera once again to show your legs that were now rubbing up against eachother , a indication to your girlfriend that you were soaked.

“open your legs for me baby”

you open your legs to the widest of your ability , earning a low grunt from your girlfriend , “you’re so beautiful my love, all for me,”

your fingers quickly find their way towards your nipples , pinching them , as you run your soft fingers down them , as your hand slowly creeps its way down to your clit, landing your fingers right into your slit.

she watches you with need , as you had a feeling she was doing the same thing to herself right in this moment.

you slowly began to rub your puffy clit in slow circles , earning a small whimper from your lips , as you mumble ; “I want you so bad right now baby”

she moans back at the comment , throwing her head against the wooden headboard. “I p-promise I’ll fuck you nice and good when I get home hm? just be a good girl and keep fucking yourself with those pretty fingers of yours.”

you began to touch yourself faster , not being able to even think a coherent thought , all your thoughts being consumed by your want and need for her.

you slowly inserted two fingers into yourself , pushing them in and out at a pace that you swore made you see stars. your moans becoming gradually louder by the second , not even worrying if anyone heard , as you could hear your girls breathe hitching through the phone.

after what felt like hours of this euphoric bliss , you felt the familiar feeling of a knot tighten within you , as your fingers curled , hitting your g-spot.

“please baby , please , I’m going to cum” you stumble out, your voice hitting the highest note it practically could.

“let go baby, I’m gonna cum too.”

a/n : aaaa it feels so good to be back!! here’s a slightly longer slutty thot to start the weekend off right 💗 hope u enjoyed besties !!

[simonriley09]

Experienced!Johnny x Virgin!Reader.

Johnny always had eyes for you, no matter who you were with or what you were doing. Your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend was with you? his focus was only on you. You were simply just doing paperwork? he's watching. So when he woke up at night to the sounds of moaning and skin slapping noises coming from your room? he's creeping up to the door and peeking into the keyhole, Watching your boyfriend try to take your virginity but your moans are clearly faked... he's not even rubbing your clit... just a razor burn on your labia.

Your boyfriend didn't even last long.. just 10 minutes and he was walking to the door, leaving you there, cum filled and unsatisfied. Johnny hid as your boyfriend walked out before sneaking in your room. He crawled ontop of you and you froze, looking up at him. "Johnny...?" you whispered. "M'here love. Saw yr' boyfriend leave. Bet he didn't make you cum." He said quietly, staring into your eyes. "But we didn't-" "Shhh... i saw." "... No.. he didn't make me cum.. he only came in me and left." Johnny's hand slowly crept up your thigh, leaving goosebumps. His thumb dragged tight, slow circles on your clit making you squirm and whimper. His other hand unbuckles his belt, pulling it off before is jeans come off too, leaving him in just a shirt and boxers. "Gonna eat tis pretty pussy... yr' gonna cum on my face even if you don't want to, yea?" "But-" He cut you off. "No buts, just relax m'luv." He then layed down on his belly and put your legs over his shoulder, getting comfy before starting to lap at your pussy, getting it wet since your boyfriend didn't have the decency to make you wet. You gasp and paw at his mohawk, toes curling and heels digging into his lower back as he suckles on your clit.

You've never felt pleasure like this, the coil in your belly tightens incredibly fast before you can even warn him you're arching and shaking, letting out a loud squeal as you cum on his tongue. He pulls away before stripping his shirt and boxers off, his fat veiny cock slapping against his abs, leaving a small trail of pre-cum. "Johnny i can't take that! it's fucking huge!" "Y' can. And y' will." He slowly inserted the bulbous tip into your dripping cunt with a squelch, making you let out a soft gasp and clench. He hissed as you clenched, patting your thigh as if to tell you to loosen up. After a while of clenching you relaxed and let him slide the full thing in, he finally bottoms out and stays there for a few seconds before letting out a sharp, slow thrust, hitting your cervix slowly. you let out a soft whine, grabbing his sides as he slowly starts thrusting... it got a bit faster after a while, leaving you moaning uncontrollably. He kept thrusting into you when he suddenly pushed your knees to your chest, ramming his cock so deep into you that you throw your head back and scream out in pleasure, toes curling so hard you swear you can't feel them anymore. Johnny groans, drool coming down from his mouth onto his chin, dripping onto the bed while his brain goes to mush with how good your pussy feels. He's acting on instincts, like a dog in heat, just humping and ramming his cock into your pussy until he cums. You're practically on your 12th orgasm as he continues to ram his cock into your pussy, you've lost all feeling in your legs, they're just shaking and shaking with each thrust. Despite it being 45 minutes in... Johnny still hasn't cum. You squeal and scream in pleasure as his cock slips past your cervix and keeps thrusting straight into your womb, the bulbous head splitting you open on his veiny cock wider than ever. Your brain goes fuzzy as you get cock drunk on the feeling of him splitting you open over and over again. Your back and thighs are aching from the position but it feels so good. Your gushing with each thrust, squirt going everywhere but Johnny doesn't care, he's just humping his cock into the warm hole he has infront of him. Finally after what feels like forever, he finally blows his load straight into your hole, his hips stuttering and stopping after a while as he whimpers. He slowly pulls his softening cock out, watching your gaping hole leak cum and blood. He's panting, he finally lets go of your legs too, letting them fall next to him before he lays down behind you, pulling you into him so he's spooning you. His hand softly rubs circles on your tummy. "Stuffed full?" You nod, still panting as he snuggles his head into your nape, breathing in the faint scent of shampoo, skincare and pheromones you give off. He's now just kissing your nape softly, falling asleep with you. The next day let's just say.. he woke up n broke up with your boyfriend over text. <3

[dceasesd]

why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.1)

oh boy oh boy am i excited for this one buckle up boys it’s gonna be a long one. analysis under the cut (WITH PICTURES!!)

i, like many others, have many thoughts and opinions about juni ba's the boy wonder that i'd like to express. i was having trouble formatting my rant, though, so i decided that it was easiest to just address some of the common complaints i've seen about the comic and jason's characterization and insert my ramblings throughout it. so far i've seen three main complaints:

the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one"

his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character

the neighbor's kid interaction

to start with the first one-- when introducing jason's character, in both the second and first issue, ba uses the descriptors "coarse", "bitter", "hardened", "brash" and, of course, "rageful".

so, yes-- i understand where people are having issues with this characterization. however, even if it's overplayed, it's still important to remember that jason is angry, and is driven, in part, by his anger at bruce and the joker. and, as ba highlights, he deserved to be! completely erasing jason's anger is just as bad as defining him with it.

i also don't think it's wholly accurate to say that ba is boiling jason down to just his anger. it might seem like that when only considering the dialogue and narration, but jason's behavior in the comic doesn't perfectly align with how the narrator describes him. while the narration describes him as "rageful" and could be an instance of generalization, jason's actions throughout the comic are more aligned with two other emotions/motivators: fear and despair. we never see jason get actually, properly angry; the closest we get is when he's seemingly annoyed by damian (which i believe could be performative) and when he becomes violent, accidentally hurting damian.

even in this instance, though, he is not driven to this violence by rage, but rather fear. so, while ba states in the narration that jason is driven by his anger, he contradicts himself by highlighting how jason's sadness and terror motivates his character. this could be interpreted as lousy writing on ba's part, but i'm not going to attribute the paradox to that inference. to me, it actually represents a critque of the "jason is the angry robin" generalization, because it calls to attention the discrepancies between how one is described versus reality, an issue that jason both faces in the comics (bruce using him as a cautionary tale when dying WASN'T HIS FAULT) and outside of the comics, as mentioned previously.

furthermore, this highlights the difference between what jason believes about bruce's perspective and bruce's actual perspective (according to damian). jason believes himself to be a "failure", but damian refutes this by describing his conversation with bruce concerning jason, a conversation that does not align with jason's belief. if you couldn't tell by now, perception versus reality is a BIG theme in this comic (and for jason's character in general!)

i was really fascinated by ba's take on jason, because it veered pretty far from a lot of contemporary comics, most of which do, unfortunately, play with the angry robin jason generalization. they've been doing a bit with his fear, too, which has either been pretty fun or the most awful thing ever (i'm looking at you zdarsky. gotham war was fucked up), but what makes ba's jason stand out to me is how he grapples with his grief.

this boy is so sad. ba's jason might actually be the saddest rendition of him i've seen in canon content. we've seen jason grapple a little bit with the despair rooted in his death and resurrection, mainly in lost days, where he cries 3 (?) times, fresh out of the pit and very traumatized.

even in this comic, though, he reacts to his grief with anger more prominently than sadness. that obviously doesn't mean the despair isn't there, though-- anger is just an easier outlet for it (which i could really get into the masculinity aspects of that, but then this would be wayyyyyy too long).

ba's jason, though? that motherfucker is so. sad.

christ he's depressing. AND THAT'S SUCH A FRESH PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THANK YOU JUNI BA!!!!!!

now i'm pretty sure some people would argue that this rendition in out of character because he's so sad. to me, though, he's still the same jason; he covers up his sadness with anger and pettiness, redirecting his own insecurities onto those around him to mask his true feelings.

ba quite literally illustrates this in the comic. whenever he is being his snide, normal self, he has his red hood mask on; but when he actually opens up to damian and expresses himself truthfully, the mask is off. ba is highlighting how the classic jason anger and bitterness is, in part, a performance and coping mechanism.

this post is already too long, so i'll go over the two other critques in a different post, which i will link below (eventually). if you guys have any thoughts you'd like to share or discuss, my dms and asks are completely open! if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed my ranting. look out for another post soon! :))

part 2 / part 3

[lorynna]

inevitably you will then think back about the nights you used to lie awake in bed, butterflies in your stomach fantasizing about this new guy you met, that you hardly knew by then, imagining how he *could* be, on all the fun dates you would go, the sweet things he'd say to you and the fancy restaurant you'd visit for dinner.

you'd think about the beautiful dresses you would pick out for the occasion and didn't think you'd have to tell him what to wear or that he would maybe out of laziness just show up with jogging pants. you didn't think about all the times the dishes might pile up in the sink or the random socks lying around or eventually having to scrub off the shit stains he leaves on the toilet because he can't even manage to clean up after himself.

and he might tell you that this is just because he has gotten comfortable with you and this has nothing to do with him taking you for granted but I'm telling you that he just doesn't care.

i am tired of hearing work colleagues and friends talk about what they do for their men and laughing about it because it's so normalized that they don't second guess it. I don't wanna hear about how you have to cut up vegetables so small that you can mix it in his spaghetti sauce so he doesn't notice because he refuses to eat those and otherwise wouldn't get his necessary vitamins, i am tired of them talking about how their men fail to complete daily task and give the mental load to their girlfriends/wives and they try to talk it into something positive like: He just told me to manage his [feel free to insert anything here] and I agreed - like at least i can do it how I want it to be done and don't have to second-check after he completes the task. Like... in some kind of way I feel more relieved because when I do it myself I know it's gonna turn out the way it should! " (weaponized incompetence much?)

please learn to leave men that don't add any value to your life. leave men that refuse to make an effort and put yourself first always and don't look back. you alone are whole as a person and you don't need a partner to complete you. you will be fine. you will be better.

[teaspacebar]

spiced chai

pairing: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader

summary: you've been living in chicago for about a year, and you're suddenly managing the coffee shop in the well beloved bookstore, nan's. you meet carmen berzatto on a not-so-good day. you're thrust into the everchanging societal landscape that is making friends in your 20s..

word count: ~9.7k

warnings: language, depictions of mental illness, barista!reader, afab!reader (but tried to be as neutral as possible), neurodivergent!reader, they don't kiss, could be read as platonic tbh but there's crumbs in there if you look, takes place over the course of a few months, probably doesn't follow canon fully (i'm not caught up yet forgive me)

a/n: *dumps this here and runs* but actually this piece of writing appeared in my brain and i've been picking away at it for a couple of months. i feel like i've put more of myself into this fic than with anything else i've written, so this is definitely more of a self insert (pls be kind or don't read if that's not your vibe). i'm queer, non-binary, and autistic and i just wanted to insert that into this space. i feel like there's more to explore here, so i might write more for this if i feel so inclined.

Meeting Carmen Berzatto was not on your to-do list for Tuesday morning.

Not that having to run down to the nearest corner store to grab milk - since the milk fridge was on the fritz…again - at 4am was in your plans either. It always seemed like one step forward, three giant leaps back with the little shop on the corner you basically called home. It was weird, to be thrust into leadership as your manager made an abrupt exit. 

The small bookstore, with an even tinier coffee shop, had been your place of work for the last year or so. You loved it. The people were great, and Nan, the shop owner, was absolutely lovely. She was getting up in her years, but the genuine care she had for the employees made all the difference. She put her trust in you to run the cafe, saying “You have the experience, and the care you have for people shows. I know this. Everyone knows this. Now you just have to see it - have confidence.”

“Confidence my ass,” you mutter, carrying five gallons of milk around the corner.

What happens next might have been considered the beginning of a rom-com, but you’re a realist, and the world is shitty.

There’s a crash, and the distinct sound of three of the five gallons of milk dropping onto the sidewalk. You stare, watching in slow motion as the milk forms into a river, dripping off the sidewalk into the gutter.

The person who ran into you curses, “Shit — fuck, sorry, I—I wasn’t looking where I was…dammit.”

You grip the other two jugs in your arms, blinking out of the haze to let out a hysterical laugh. “Great…cool cool.” Cold plastic bites into your fingers, and you take a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, what else was gonna happen?” You finally look up to see the one you collided with. The man looks extremely uncomfortable, foot tapping like he wants to bolt. Plastering on a smile you shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m the one who thought carrying five gallons of milk would be fine.” You ramble on, trying to ease his nerves, “I mean — why would I drive, like, thirty seconds. Park, get the milk, come all the way back. Seemed stupid…but now there’s milk in my socks.” You grimace, fighting the urge to chuck the remaining jugs of milk in the street so you could also hurl your milk-soaked shoes and socks after them. It makes the ache in your chest sharpen.

“Here, where are you —“

You cut him off, “No, no, it’s okay. I got it, thank you.” You gesture to the door that’s just a few feet away from you. “This is me, anyway.” You adjust your hold on the milk, brushing past the man to pull open the door. You catch it with your hip, not daring to look back as you head behind the counter. You release a sigh, setting the bane of your existence on the black speckled marble. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes. You shake out your arms, biting your lip. “Okay, asshole, let’s get your shit together.” You quickly put the milk into the small fridge below the bar and walk to the back. The squish of your socks curdles your stomach, and you breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell. You take off your shoes, throwing them into a plastic bag to take home. Tossing your socks into the garbage, you grab your replacement sneakers and socks from your cubby. It wasn’t the first time you’ve dropped something on your shoes, it wouldn’t be the last.

You take your time in the back. You had gotten to the shop around 4am, unable to sleep. You were messing around with recipes, seeing if there was a possibility of baking some of the food in the cafe fresh, instead of outsourcing. It was something you put on your own plate, and you didn’t want to disappoint Nan. You had shown up early, looking to try out some muffins, and noticed the fridge had been hovering at sixty degrees all night. You’ll have to grab some more milk before the day starts, but that could be a problem for 8am you.

Walking through the swinging doors, you jump as you see someone at the bar counter. Pressing a hand to your fluttering heart, you finally take in the man that had run into you earlier. A mop of curly hair on his head, white tee, very blue eyes…and standing behind eight gallons of milk.

“Um…” you look between the milk and him a few times.

“The…uh – the door was unlocked. Figured I owed you one.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“How’d you even get it all here?” 

“Made two trips.” His gaze snaps back to you as you laugh, this time more genuine. “Fridge go out, or somethin’?” You’re still staring at him like he has two heads, and he rambles on, “Sorry for just…barging in. I used to go to this place…when I was kid. My sister and I would grab whatever pastries they had left for the day. And, yeah, we’d just sit, read random shit. I work at the restaurant just down the street…’s why I ran into you. Wasn’t paying attention – sorry, again.”

Suddenly, it all clicks. “You own The Bear.”

“Uh, yeah – yeah, I do.”

You feel nervous, out of the blue. Nan hadn’t stopped talking about the Berzatto’s, and Natalie had become a regular while the restaurant was being remodeled. You’re sure you’d seen other employees come in as well, for reading material. You vaguely remember talking to a very sweet man about baking, as he carried a ton of cookbooks in his arms.

You knew Carmen Berzatto, but only through the words of others – and the research you did late one night because you were nosey. To have him standing in the bookstore you worked at, for him to have gotten you milk, is sending you for a loop. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you begin to put the milk in their new home. You really need to call the refrigerator guy again. 

“That’s so cool,” the words fall from your mouth, others staying in your head. 

It's insane that someone like him is even speaking to you. He’s around the same age as you; He owns a restaurant and you’re barely able to run a tiny coffee bar in a bookstore. You’re an idiot who dropped milk onto the sidewalk. Why didn’t you just take the car? You should’ve just taken the car. Now Carmen fucking Berzatto has bought you milk at 5am because he feels bad for you. How pathetic. Call the fucking refrigerator guy.

“Thanks…for the milk.” You back away from the counter, gesturing behind you, “Lemme grab some money from the cash box real quick.”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s really fine, you didn’t have to go out of your way. I’ll be right back.” The itch creeps its way up your spine, and you push through the door as a shudder passes through you. You shake out the twitch, going and grabbing the cash box. You do mental math, trying to see how much you should give him. Did he even need the money? “Idiot,” you chide yourself. Today was not the day for your brain. 

Snagging a twenty and a ten, you rush back out to the bar, only to find the store empty. A groan escapes through your teeth, and you clench the cash in your hands, crumpling it. You walk to the front door, peering out to see if you can spot the chef. He must’ve made a quick getaway. As you turn to get prepped for the day, you spot a brochure on the counter, far away from its home of the stand at the front of the bookstore. Eat Your Way Through Chicago! 

Scribbled on the front is a phone number, and the words:

Fridge  Ask for Fak Say Carm sent you

“Fucking fuck.” You whisper, a smile creeping on your face against your will, “Asshole.”

It’s later in the week when you hear the bell attached to the front door – ding! You poke your head up from where you're arranging some alternative milks under the counter, seeing a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Natalie!” You pop up, an easy grin appearing on your face. “Half-caff?”

She nods, “Please.”

“How are you?” 

“Oh, you know.”

You ring her up quickly, then grab a pitcher to steam some milk for her latte. Natalie walks away from the counter to browse some books. The steam wand whirs, and you watch the vortex inside the pitcher. You touch the sides every so often, waiting for it to get to the right temperature. Making drinks is all muscle memory now, and you tamp the espresso grounds into the portafilter with precision. Wiping the excess from the lip, you lock it into the machine and press the shot button. As the shot pulls, you wipe down the steam wand with a wet cloth. 

“Is this any good?” Natalie has come back over, holding up a book with a half-naked man on the front.

You laugh, “It’s a Nan recommendation, so…” The shots are poured into the paper cup, and you swirl the milk into it, doing a quick tulip design. You sprinkle a little cinnamon over the top, before placing it in front of the woman.

“Smutty then, for sure.” Natalie laughs, then does a little excited gasp when she sees the latte art. “It looks so good every time!” 

“Thanks,” you reply, “Gets covered by the lid, but it’s fun to practice.”

“Too bad you don’t have for-here mugs,” she says thoughtfully.

“Ever the idea-haver! There'd be more spills to clean up – Nan would lose her mind if any books got ruined.” You point to the book still in her hand, “You want me to ring you up for that?” It was early enough in the afternoon that the only other person here was a part-timer, Jack, somewhere between the shelves stocking books. You had convinced Nan to upgrade to a different register system (which ended up saving money in the long run), so you’re able to ring up both books and café products at your register. 

She shakes her head, sighing. “I barely have any time to read, these days. I was thinking about trying out audiobooks? I used to listen to them at my old job, but it’s way too loud in the kitchen for that to work out.” The latte goes to her mouth, a pleasant hum leaving her as she takes a sip. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, Natalie.”

She squints at you, “It’s Nat, c’mon.” A big conspiratorial grin makes its way onto her face, “So, I heard that you got some help with your fridge.”

A sharp pain twists in your chest. “Oh, um…yeah.” You let out a soft chuckle, “It’s working, which is great. Neil was a big help.”

“He said you made him the best hot chocolate he’s ever had,” Natalie taps the counter with her pointer finger twice. “Said he didn’t know how you got his number, though.” 

You shrug, wiping down the counter, “Nan had it. And the usual guy wasn’t calling me back.” Neil had told you the exact same thing, both about the drink and the number. Something had held you back from saying where you got the number from. Embarrassment, maybe? It felt weird, feeling like you owed anyone favors, or that things would be unbalanced. People usually never give without looking to receive.

“Frankie, right? He’s an asshole. Overcharges for everything.” Natalie doesn’t push you for answers, something you’re grateful for.

“Right! He disappeared one time and said he’d ‘be right back’ and then was gone for like, two hours! And he added that to his hourly!” The two of you giggle at the shittiness of people for a minute, when a ping causes Natalie to pull her phone from her pocket.

“I should run.” She reaches into her purse, and puts a five into your tip jar. “Thanks again!” 

As she turns to go, you call out her name. “Would you - maybe - I have some extra muffins. The place we get them from gave us some of the wrong ones…or they’re a tad over baked, or something. I can’t sell them. Would you wanna take them with you?”

“That’s so sweet of you! Yeah, I’m sure they’ll get eaten up.”

You grab the box of muffins, handing them over to her, “Thanks.”

“Thank you, babe.” She leaves with a smile, and you look down to brush the flour off your apron. 

“Hey, guys, I got some goodies!” Natalie sets the box of muffins on the table, where everyone is seated for family meal. 

Neil immediately grabs the box, pointing to the sticker on the top, “You went to Nan’s? Man, I could use a hot chocolate right now.” 

“I’m sure you can walk over there and order one, my love.” Natalie replies, waving for him to put the box back on the table.

Marcus snags two muffins, handing one to Sydney who is sitting on his right. Taking a bite, he stops chewing, eyebrows raised. “Dude,” he nudges the girl next to him.

“Dude,” Syd parrots, popping some muffin into her mouth. “Wait, woah.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” 

“Nat, where did you get these?” Sydney calls to the woman now sitting at the end of the table. The muffins are passed down the rest of the table.

Marcus has started dissecting the muffin, “Macadamia nuts, sick.”

“Oh they’re from Nan’s just down the corner!” She tells them how you offered them to her since they were the wrong ones from a vendor and possibly over-baked.

Syd snorts, “Over-baked? These are perfect!”

“What’s perfect?” Carmy walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Bear, come eat!” Natalie waves him over, pulling him into the seat next to hers. “You’ve been at it all morning, take a minute, okay?” She gives him a look that tells him not to argue, and he huffs in response, but does as she says.

“What’s perfect?” He asks again, taking the muffin box from Sweeps as it’s passed to him. As the cinnamon crumble topping hits his taste buds, he leans back in his chair. “Shit.”

“That’s what we’re saying!” 

Syd and Marcus begin talking over one another, the dull roar of family making its home in Carmy’s ears. He has another bite of muffin, thumb swiping over the sticker atop the box.

Nan’s Books & Brews

Simple lettering, surrounding a doodle of a coffee cup sitting on an open book.

“When did they,” he clears his throat as he leans closer to Nat, “when did they start doin’ stuff like this?”

Natalie purses her lips, “Not sure, honestly. They only had that small coffee machine and that plastic pastry case when we were growing up, remember? I think they added the actual coffee bar right before Covid?” Carmy nods, looking out the windows, a curdle in his stomach.

“A lot’s changed,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Nat sighs, a hand over her stomach, “a lot has.”

A few weeks go by, as uneventful as they can be. You try out more recipes, and the staff of Nan’s is always sent home with one treat or another. Muffins, cinnamon rolls, croissants (which were a bust), and the like. Natalie is still a regular, and Neil has shown up to save your ass more than once. The brochure with his number on it taunts you from where it’s stuck up on the corkboard in the back.

Which is what has led you to standing in front of The Bear, a joe-to-go in one hand, paper bag in the other. An envelope burns in the inner pocket of your flannel jacket. Steeling your nerves, you knock on the door. Some yells are heard from inside, nicknames getting passed around like it’s a holiday dinner. You see a man walk towards you, in a nice suit, and he opens the door.

“Can I help you?” It’s not said unkindly, but there’s a look in his eyes that’s making you nervous. 

“Coffee delivery?” You say sheepishly, holding up the coffee traveler by its cardboard handle.

“Richie, who’s at the - hey!” Natalie immediately smiles when she sees you, and you sigh a breath of relief. Things were easy with her; she had this amazing way of comforting you without even trying.

“Hi,” you wiggle your fingers, still keeping hold of the objects in your hands. “Wanted to say thanks for all the help Neil’s been giving me, and when Nan found out, she insisted I bring over some coffee for the team, so…”

“You workin’ at Nan’s?” The guy - Richie - asks.

“For the past year or so, yeah.” You reply, thanking Natalie as she grabs the paper bag from you.

“Let them in, Richie, c’mon.” She presses on his chest, causing him to back up with his hands in the air. “Come in! I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come by for a tour.” You follow behind her, taking in the layout of the place. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a sense of awe falls over you. She has you set the coffee traveler on the bar, letting you take the paper bag from her hands. You pull out a cup holder with two cups in it.

“One half-caff french vanilla latte for you and…a hot chocolate for Neil.” As if by magic, Neil pops through the door to the kitchen.

“For me?!”

You chuckle as he pulls you into a hug. When he pulls away, he grabs his cup with a happy sound, rushing back into the kitchen when “Fak!” is yelled.

“The fuck Fak get a coffee for?” Richie frowns, causing you to bristle. Natalie swats at him, beginning to explain as you continue to walk around the restaurant. As you pass by a wood table, your fingers tap on it, the sound echoing in your ears. It sends a shiver through you, and a small smile appears on your lips. 

Natalie calls out to you, tearing your gaze back to her. People have begun to swarm around the bar, placing food on it, and your coffee is suddenly surrounded by things that smell amazing. “Did you want to eat with us, babe?” Attention turns to you, and the itchiness in your limbs reappears with a vengeance.

 A tall man, wearing a beanie, grins, “Hey, those muffins were amazing, by the way.”

You sputter, “Oh. Um—“

“Tell the chef, or baker — whoever,” he laughs at himself. “They were fire.”

Warmth rises in you, “Yeah, I’ll pass it on.”

“Babe, lunch?” Natalie says again, louder this time. More of the staff have begun digging into their meals.

“No, it’s okay!” The corner of your mouth curves up in a small smile, this one less genuine than before. You begin to back up towards the door, a gnaw of guilt in your gut as Natalie frowns. 

“Cousin! Food!” Richie yells out, followed by laughter from everyone else.

“I’m coming!” A familiar figure bursts through the kitchen door, “You don’t gotta yell like an asshole.”

Carmen Berzatto stops in his tracks when he sees you; the envelope in your pocket burns hotter. You look down at your shoes, but they just remind you of the milk dripping down the sidewalk.

“Carm,” Natalie introduces you, “they work at—“

“Nan’s.” Everyone chimes in, and you have to stop yourself from flinching. You look over at Carmy, eyes meeting.

There’s a moment where you feel like you’re going to get swallowed whole. The pipes are going to burst and water will fill up the room and you’re going to drown.

You walked straight into a den of hungry beasts, and you’re just a measly rabbit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Natalie’s words are muffled in your ears, but you manage to shake your head.

“I have someone from books covering me, and they barely know how to work the espresso machine.” You force a laugh. It grates against your vocal chords. “It was nice meeting you guys, though.” With a meek wave, you turn on your feet and speed out the door. Rounding the corner, you keep walking until you’re sure they can’t see you. Veering into the alleyway behind the restaurant, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the brick. 

You press your thumb into the palm of your hand. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. It’s over before it starts, but your chest remains tight. A reminder, which will eventually dissipate once you're back in the shop.

The coffee bar, your shield; apron, your armor. 

A door opening causes you to jump, startled. Your eyes meet blue, widening like you’ve been caught. “Sorry! I was just–” You push off the brick.

Carmen seems just as surprised as you, “No, s’fine.” He clears his throat, as the two of you settle into silence.

A fwip of a lighter. Four seconds. An exhale of smoke.

You’re unsure if you should leave, but it’s like the bottoms of your shoes are stuck to the ground. “Did you-” He starts, lifting up his hand that holds a lit cigarette.

You shake your head, “No, but - um, thanks.” Your fingers twitch, and you reach to pull the envelope from inside your jacket. Something that appears so insignificant, held out in the space between you. When he just stares, you wave it a bit, until he takes the envelope with his free hand.

“What’s this?” 

“Cash, for the milk you bought.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“I did.” You bounce on your heels, “I should actually get going this time. Just wanted to give you that but…” He doesn’t respond, something you’re getting used to. You wonder where the man who rambled about reading with his sister at Nan’s went, but decide now is the best time to make your escape. As you start to walk toward the street, you turn, “The restaurant looks great, by the way. Good luck with the opening.”

“Good luck with the opening.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

"Let it rip, Bear."

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“-a complete waste of fucking time.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“I’m really sorry you feel that way, Carm.”

Natalie invites you to Friends & Family.

You don’t go.

The next month flies by. Marcus, Richie, and Syd have joined your little group of regulars. Richie even brings his daughter, Eva, whenever he’s able. She’s a joy and absolutely hilarious to have around. Richie has grown on you, the rough edges of him softening after a few cortados.

One night, he had rushed into the shop, Eva in tow, all but begging you to watch her for a few hours. He was supposed to be off for the day, to spend time with his daughter, but they’re understaffed at The Bear. A few weeks in, which confused you, but questions weren’t asked. You said yes - obviously - and had Eva help you with little things around the shop, until you close. The two of you bonded over a shared love of Taylor Swift while making muffins. By the time Richie came to pick her up, Eva was tuckered out in a loveseat, patchwork blanket tucked up to her chin.

“I owe you one,” Richie had whispered, holding his daughter in his arms.

You shook your head, “You deserve to have time with her.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, bring it up with the Bear himself.”

You weren’t planning on it. The man is barely on your mind. Except for every time someone from The Bear walks in. They look drained, more and more each day. It’s a certain type of pain, to watch people – that once had so much life in them – lose the light that you felt so harshly the first time you walked into the restaurant. You hear inklings; mentions of a changing menu every night, nonnegotiables, and the like.

It worries you. It’s not your place - you’re more than aware of that. But you’ve come to care for these people. And by extension, some part of you wants to see how he’s doing. It’s an odd - biting -feeling. How strange it is, to know someone through everyone else’s eyes but your own. You have to fight back the urge to force yourself into the places you do not fit. You’re resigned to watching from afar, providing comfort behind your coffee bar. It’s what you’re good at. It might be all you're good at.

Some sick twist of fate decides to upturn it all one Friday night.

Carmy had stayed late, to nobody’s surprise. He’d been adjusting the menu, preparing it for tomorrow, when the flashes hit him. He decides to walk it off, popping another thing of nicotine gum into his mouth. He walks aimlessly, trying to push the overwhelming thoughts out of his head. The street is dark - most places being closed - but light pours onto the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of him. Almost a reflex, he peers into the windows.

A laugh of disbelief - more a huff of air through his nose - leaves him.

You’re dancing, headphones over your ears, as you mix something in a large bowl. It’s unlike anything he’s seen - from you or otherwise. There’s a sense of freedom in your movements, so different from the few times he’d seen you before. The tightness in his chest lightens, some, at the sight of you so obviously in your element.

And you're looking right at him.

“Shit,” he mumbles. You tilt your head at him, doing a little wave. He lifts a hand in reply, and you point haphazardly at the door. Before he can respond, or walk away – anything, you’re heading around the counter. A click of the door unlocking, and you pull it open part way.

“Hey,” you say, a little loud. With a wince, you pull the headphones off to rest around your neck. Music can be heard – a muffled, upbeat song that he doesn’t recognize. “Hey,” you say again, quieter this time. Silence passes between you, and he watches your nose twitch. “…did you wanna?” You jut your thumb behind you. You’re almost unrecognizable from the first time you met, calmer, somehow.

“Yeah, sure.” The words come out, easier than he thinks, and slips through the door you hold open. You lock it behind him, turning back around to slide behind the counter.

You grab a muffin tin, beginning to fill each one with a scoop of the batter you had been mixing. You make quick work of it, pushing them into the small commercial oven, wiping your fingers on the towel that’s pulled through a loop in your jeans.

Leaning against the counter, you finally look at him, “Okay, Pick your poison.”

“What?”

“Coffee? Americano, latte, cappuccino?” It’s like you’re trying to read him, wanting to crack the spine of a book and see what’s inside.

“I don’t really do the…caffeine.”

You hum thoughtfully, tapping your fingers on the counter in some type of rhythm. “Can I make you something? Low-caffeinated, of course.” He nods. “Anything you hate?” A shake of his head.

You grab a cup and get to work. You’re singing under your breath - the song that’s playing from the headphones around your neck. With your eyes off of him, he takes a moment to actually observe the shop. Warm lighting, with dark wood bookshelves making it feel cozy without being too claustrophobic. There’s smaller tables, with different recommendations for certain genres. A sprinkling of string lights and hanging plants just adds to the homey feeling, one so different from the pristine, white kitchens he’s used to being in. So different from his own restaurant. The coffee shop portion is close to the front, dark marble countertops and a chalkboard menu - swirling letters describing monthly drink specials.

“Alright, order up,” you call out softly.

Carmy walks back up to the bar, eyeing the cup. Warmth presses into his skin as his fingers curl around it. You mention that it’s hot, to let it cool for a bit. Silence falls between the two of you - in a way he finds comforting. Your eyes flick between him and the counter you’re wiping down.

“Do you normally do this?” He asks.

“The making drinks thing, or the staying at the shop way too late thing?” You give a wry smile. “Could ask you the same.”

He scratches at his nose, “Noted.”

The minutes pass; you go about cleaning the shop, rinsing dishes and setting things up for the next day. It’s an art he’s well versed in. The muscle memory takes over for you, and Carmen becomes invisible. It feels nice, to just be in a place where nobody has anything to ask of him. He finally tries the drink. It’s good, milky, if a little sweet, but it eases the last of the sourness in his stomach away. A timer on your phone goes off, and you tug on a flowery oven mitt to pull the muffins out of the oven. Chocolate and spice invades his nostrils, soothing him even more. You grab one, hissing a bit since it’s hot, and put it on a plate, bringing it back over to him. Leaning over the bar, you reach for forks that are in a metal cup, right near Carmy. You’re close, with no care about being in his personal space. It’s only for a second, and then you’re back in your previous position.

“You can have some, as long as you promise not to be an ass about it.” You hold out a fork for him. The words cause him to cringe, but he takes the utensil from you.

He stares at the muffin, running his thumb on the underside of the fork. “How much trouble am I in?”

You shrink back a little, “W-what?”

He’s met you what - twice? Both times felt clunky, an awkwardness to the both of you. Here, it’s simpler. Under the cover of night, huh? A voice that sounds awfully like Mikey’s says in the back of his mind. His family won’t stop talking about you. Or drinking your coffee.

“The Bear,” he mutters. “They talk to you, right?”

You laugh, surprised. “Do you actually want to know?” You hold up a hand before he can reply, “Actually, no. They don’t talk to me. I see things, sure. But I’m not getting anyone in trouble with the boss.” You’re on the defensive, not even for yourself, but for his kitchen.

“They-They’re not in trouble.” One look from you and he deflates, sighing. “Okay, yeah. Just…just say something.”

“I haven’t even been to eat there.”

“You should come,” he says.

Another laugh - a scoff, more-like, “You think I could afford your place?” You bite your lip, pinching the bridge of your nose. After a moment, you continue, gently, “Do you have any fun?”

“Fun.” The word is like poison in his mouth.

“Yes, fun. I know that food service isn't the best, but it’s good to have fun, or to at least enjoy it.” You wave your hands around, “That family meal stuff you guys do? That’s so sweet, and you have a whole family unit going on in that kitchen, or whatever. If this restaurant is supposed to be the rest of your life, you should like it, at least a little bit, right?” Your torso melts into the counter, and you rest your head on your arm. “And like, maybe? Don’t change the menu every night, or something. It’s new, right? You gotta work out the kinks first before jumping in all-” you blow air out through your cheeks.

A beat of quiet, then, “The menu, huh?”

“Eleven thousand for butter?” You parrot back. At his frown, you hold up your hands, “I’m just a barista, what would I know?” You say it without heat, and yet he feels guilt crawl up his throat.

“That’s not-”

“I know, Carmen.” A sigh leaves your lips, “You asked, so I talked. Again, take everything with a grain of salt.” The words get softer, as if you’re talking more to yourself than to him, “Just remember who’s going down with you if it ends up crashing and burning.”

You stab your fork into the muffin, tearing it in half. He follows suit, lifting a bite of it to his lips. Spice floods his taste buds, and he grunts. You blink up at him, fork hanging from your mouth. He’s suddenly starving, and he eagerly gets himself another forkful. “S’good.” He mumbles through the food. Carmen watches as you process his words, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. You two finish the muffin, and there’s an ominous sense of peace that covers him like a blanket. “Thanks.”

“For yelling at you?”

Carmy lets the chuckle spill out, “If that’s what you call yelling…” He trails off, sobering, “Do you have fun?”

You hum, contemplating. “Yeah. I mean, it’s coffee, at the end of the day. It’s just nice to see people, to make their day a little better than it was. I like to try out new things, to create, to get recommendations.” You stop, seeing him staring at you, “What?”

“You’re different…from the other day, s’all.”

You’re perplexed, scrunching your nose, “Well I had a bad day, the first time. And I don’t do…well, with new people.”

“Unless you’re behind the counter.”

Your eyes widen, something flickering behind them, like he’s seen something you didn’t want him to. “Touche.” Checking your phone, you clear your throat, “Alright, we should probably get out of here if we want any semblance of sleep.” He follows your lead, as you flick off the lights, throwing you backpack over your shoulder. He waits while you lock the front door, small key dangling on a keychain. You turn, looking at him, before holding out a paper bag, “Muffin for the road?”

He grabs it, an odd feeling bubbling in his chest, “Oh - uh, thanks.”

You suddenly look sheepish, fiddling with the strap of your bag, “And if you’re out late again, feel free to stop by. If you need a break, or something.” A beat. “Oh, again, take what I said with a grain of salt, yeah? Just - maybe - try to take care of yourself a little.” You laugh nervously, and Carmy sees the truth of his earlier observation. You’re still more relaxed, but the nerves have crept in as you step outside your comfort zone. Something he knows all too well. “Anyways, have a good night - morning.” You shake your head, blowing a raspberry through your lips.

“Night. Get home safe.” He murmurs. You turn on your heel, walking down the street. He tightens his grip on the paper bag.

Take care of yourself.

At least enjoy it.

You should like it, at least a little bit, right?

Carmy doesn’t know if he truly remembers what liking cooking is like. He’s found little bits of it, in moving back home. In Marcus’ eyes as he creates something new. In Syd’s determination to make amazing food. There’s a passion there that he’s lost somewhere along the way.

He sees it in you, and it calls out to him - the tide being pushed and pulled by the moon. A curious feeling, gnawing at his stomach. A hunger for something he can’t make sense of, but he pulls the muffin out of the bag to eat on his walk home.

Carmy keeps showing up at Nan’s, usually late at night. You didn’t expect him to take you up on your offer, yet a smile graces your lips every time he does.

He was right, when he said you feel most comfortable behind the counter. You knew it, but having someone else acknowledge it felt…weird. Like you weren’t playing your part right. Yet it also felt good, to be seen.

Conversation between the two of you still feels stilted, occasionally, but you find comfort in the quiet moments. And the not-so quiet ones; with music playing at just above a reasonable level, you mouthing the words as you dance around behind the bar. The mask slowly slides off when he comes around, and it’s easier to be goofy.

You think it surprises him. He’s not quite sure what to do, when you’re cruising on the linoleum tile you call a dance floor. But he never tells you that you’re weird, or too much. You’ve maybe even seen him bite back a smile. You swear there’s dimples hiding somewhere — a fleeting thought that you let fly away before you linger on it too long.

“What do you think?” You’ve turned the music down, notepad on the counter, your favorite pen in hand. You click it a few times, sound satisfying the little itch in the back of your brain.

“Not sure if I’m a matcha fan,” Carmy murmurs. You nod, writing down his response onto the paper. It’s almost filled — you’ll have to turn to the next page soon — with different drinks you’ve had Carmy try, determined to find the right one. He’s harder to pin than others, something you’re not necessarily surprised by.

That's partially on you. You're unsure of how much to ask. How much could you poke the both metaphorical and literal Bear until it breaks? You've been enjoying your time, but you've yet to ask him how work is going. He doesn't ask you about your personal life, so why would you ask about his?

There's a curiosity there, though. To see what makes Carmen Berzatto tick. You fear the two of you might be a little too similar.

You turn to go back to cleaning your mess — the reason being a fresh tray of cookies cooling on the counter, when he says your name. “Did you get a new tattoo?”

Gaze flashing to the wrap you have on your arm, peeking out from the sleeve of your shirt, you turn bashful. “Oh,” you hum, “I did. It’s been on my list for awhile. I’m keeping it wrapped at work while it heals - god knows I spill everything all over myself.”

“Can I — What did you get?” He’s just as sheepish as you, a boyish glow about him. You’d never talked about tattoos before. His evidence is on his arms; yours are mostly concealed — easy to hide with the oversized button downs and jeans you wear.

You pull your phone from your back pocket, “Here, I’ll pull up a photo of it.” Placing your phone on the counter, Carmy grabs it, zooming in on the two-headed calf that’s found its home on your bicep. The tattoo is fresher in the photo, line work popping out against your skin. “The longest living two-headed calf lived 17 months. Her name was Gemini — a little on the nose, I think. There’s also this poem by Laura Gilpin, that just kinda struck me.” Your ramble tumbles off, a half smile pulling at your lips. “It’s sad, but the kind that makes you hurt in a nice way? If that even makes sense.” You wave a hand around, then reach to take a sip from his cup.

The matcha settles the nerves hiding under your skin, the earthy flavor dancing on your tongue. As you set the cup back on the counter, you point at his hand, “What’s that stand for?” Your own fingers twitch, fighting the urge to brush them across his own. “S.O.U?”

“Ah, sense of urgency.” He says, fiddling with your phone.

You laugh, quickly covering it with a hand, “Sorry, I — sorry, that just makes so much sense.” Before he can speak, you shake your head, “Not in a bad way, necessarily. It’s just so obvious how little work-life balance you have.”

“We’re literally at your shop in the middle of the night.” Carmen huffs exasperatedly, corner of his mouth curling up.

You hold your hands up, conceding, “Okay, I get it. Misery loves company - or whatever. God, we’re both crazy, aren’t we? We should get out more.”

He hums in response, tapping his phone twice to check the time. Anxiety swells up in your throat, and there’s something biting at your heels. The silence doesn’t feel comfortable anymore.

You said something wrong, the little voice in your head whispers. You lost the script and got too close and now he’s pulling back. How can you fix it? You have to fix it.

“What’s your favorite one?” His blue eyes glance up at you. Invisible hand squeezing your lungs, you stammer, “Tattoo. What’s the one you like most?”

His words come out softly, “A house boat. I, uh, got it before leaving Copenhagen. I stayed in one while I was over there, and put out water for an invisible cat.” Relief floods you as he talks. It’s the most he’s spoken about anything, and you see a glimmer behind his eyes.

It feels a little too close to home.

“You really loved it over there, huh?”

As if caught, he clears his throat, “It was cool…different.”

Different from Chicago, you don’t say. “I get that,” you murmur instead.

You knew what it was like, to run away. The need for escape pushing you into flight as the metaphorical dog chases the rabbit.

You wonder what Carmen’s dog was. Or is. If it’s even a dog at all.

“What about you? What’s your favorite?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts. “Oh! Um, it’s silly.” You worry at your bottom lip.

“You don’t—”

“No, hold on, it’s just,” you push yourself onto the counter with the palms of your hands. Carmen leans back as you swing your legs over the bar, letting your feet rest on the barstool next to him. You lean over, pulling up your pants leg to show the tattoo on the right side of your calf. He stares at it for a moment, confusion clear in his gaze. “See, I told you.”

“Is it a moth, or something?”

“Moth-man, Carmen. Mothman.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“He’s a cryptid. There’s literally stories of a Chicago Mothman.” He peers up at you in amusement, causing you to scrunch your face at him. “I swear on my life Carmen Berzatto, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not.” He laughs, and your chest loosens. You got Carmen Berzatto to laugh. “It looks good, the style is nice,” he gestures to your leg.

You smile, “Thanks.”

Nodding, he goes to sip from his cup. He makes a face, pulling it away from him, “Yeah, I don’t like this.”

He holds it out to you as you reach for it, laughter spilling from your lips, “More grass for me.” You drink, and let the cup rest on your thigh, fingers tapping on the plastic lid.

“I’m not…” Your head turns to look at him, watching as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not really good at this.”

“...at what?” You whisper, scared if you talk any louder you’ll scare him away.

“Talking? Not working? Who the fuck knows,” his hand leaves his hair and passes over his face.

“I’m not either, really.” You pick at your jeans, “But we’re trying, right? You come by more than I thought you would.”

“Really?”

You snort, “Dude, the first time I was surprised you even came in.” Gently, you add, “And you don’t have to be perfect at conversation to be friends with someone.” His eyes meet yours as you nudge his shoulder with your knee. “I’m weird, you’re weird, that’s okay.”

Carmen rolls his eyes good naturedly. His legs are bouncing, and you can almost see him chewing the word around before it finally leaves, “Friends?”

“Friends.” You affirm. Silence passes between you, until a growl comes from your stomach.

The man laughs, looking all the prettier for it, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you groan.

He gets up from his seat, grabbing his denim jacket that’s hung over the chair on his left, “C’mon.”

It takes a moment, but it clicks. “Oh my god,” you gasp out, hopping off the counter. With a speed you only have during a lunch rush, you run to the back. You untie your apron, hang it up on a hook, and grab your tote bag. “Wallet, keys, phone…phone!”

“Out here!” Carmen yells. You grin, rushing back out to the front, bouncing on your heels. “You good?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You shake your keys with enthusiasm. He laughs as you both leave, and you turn to lock up. There’s excitement buzzing through you, like caffeine would if your brain weren’t wired a bit funky. A thought cuts through the haze, “Oh shit, I forgot to–”

“I got the trash.” The street lights reflect off his blue eyes.

Your heart twinges a little, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He gestures with his head, “Now let’s go before your stomach eats itself.”

“Hey Carm?!”

The man pokes his head into the office, one hand wrapped around the door, “Yeah, what?”

Natalie raises an eyebrow, “You busy?”

Carmy scoffs, “Yeah, Sugar, I’m busy.”

It’s lunch time. Marcus has pastries, Tina’s running prep. Syd is around…avoiding him. He tries not to think about it for too long. Richie is who knows where.

Fuck, don’t be an asshole, asshole.

Deflating, he asks, “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I’m spending my hour of alone time figuring shit out here, while Pete watches the baby.” His sister sighs, glancing down at the paperwork on the desk, “I’m managing. Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

He wants to ask about the baby. His niece. But Natalie barrels over the topic to say, “Were you here late the other night?” He must have made a face because Natalie sighs, exasperated. “I know you stay later than everyone else, doing god knows what, but I got a notification on my phone the other night-“

“What notification?”

She rolls her eyes, “The alarm system, dummy. I get alerts.”

“No, yeah, I get that. But I turned it off.”

It could only be from the other night, when he brought you back to the restaurant. He’s not sure why he did — he almost had a panic attack in front of you while debating what to make. It's strange, how much an environment can affect someone. Nan's feels so comfortable to him now, like nothing can happen to him when he's in those four walls. Where was the last place he felt like that?

You don’t need to impress anyone, Carmen. It’s just me, you had said.

Simple words that cut through him like a knife. You asked for comfort food, so he made you grilled cheese with tomato soup. The little dance you did every time you took a bite relit a fire inside of him that had been burnt out by years of working in kitchens.

“I know. I’m asking because the alarm was set, and then you turned it off again a few hours later.” Natalie unlocks her phone, showing him her screen that has some app pulled up with timestamps on it. “Are you sleeping? Look, I know things aren’t great right now—" Natalie cuts herself off with another sigh.

“It’s fine. Things are fine.” At her pointed look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m working on it, okay? Just…are you good? Do you need anything?”

“About 48 hours of interrupted sleep would be great.” Her gripe falls off into a laugh, which he returns.

Stepping into the room further, he pulls the door closer, just a slim crack of clean white light coming through. “I’ve been a shitty brother lately.”

“No…” Natalie snorts, “Okay yeah, a bit. I love you, though.”

He mumbles the words back, tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, “Maybe I could come by, sometime. See the baby.” It’s a blessing and curse how his chest aches when he sees the way her eyes light up.

“I’d love that, Bear.”

“Yo, delivery!” Marcus yells out, pulling the attention of the Berzatto siblings.

“The fuck?” There isn't supposed to be a delivery today.

Natalie gets out of her seat, “Oh thank god.” She ushers Carmy out of the office, pushing past him into the dining room. He follows after her, confused, only to stop in his tracks.

You’re here.

You stand next to Richie, talking animatedly, albeit shy. You’re wearing clothes he doesn’t regularly see you in, the worn denim jacket catching his eye in particular. It’s clear that you aren't working, yet you hold two cups from Nan’s in your hands, a few drink carriers littering a table.

“You’re literally my savior, thank you.” Natalie pulls you into a hug, and you look at Richie with wide eyes. Carmy has to hold back a snort at your expression.

“You should expect this reaction by now, kid.” Richie takes a sip from his drink when you gape at him in exaggerated outrage.

“Shut up, Richie,” Natalie is barely paying attention, saying the words more out of habit. Grabbing a cup from a drink holder, she says, “You’re coming home with me.”

Giggles bubble from your lips, and you go to cover them with the back of your arm. There’s a pull Carmy feels, instinctual, to urge your arm away from your face and hear your genuine laughter fill the room.

Your eyes meet his, finally noticing that he’s there. The smile you give him is earnest, a gentle hello without words. He forces his feet to move, closing the distance. Carmy blatantly ignores the looks both Richie and Natalie are making. You hold out the cup in your hand - the one you weren’t drinking from - and he takes it from you.

Condensation clings to the sides, his name hastily written on the side.

⋆⁺Carmy!⁺˚⋆

There’s a heart in place of the dot at the bottom of the exclamation point, little stars doodled around his name. His stomach flips.

“Iced?” He swirls the drink in hand, mixing it up.

You shrug, “Thought I’d try something different. It’s hot outside.”

“You off?” Bringing the straw to his lips, he hums at the taste. You’re watching him eagerly, head tilted to the side as you wait for his review. “This is nice.”

Squinting at him, you huff, “Not perfect, though.” You type something into your phone — most likely to add to your notebook later. “Had to run some more syrup by the shop. Saw Natalie’s car on the street so I texted her to see if she wanted something to drink. I have errands to run after this.”

“You a regular too now, Cousin?” Richie barks, and Carmy watches as you remember where you are. Who you’re with.

A protectiveness rises up in Carmen, hating the way you recoil into yourself. “Fuck off, Richie.” He looks over at you, “Hungry?”

“Dude, we got shit to do.”

“Richie!” Natalie hisses at the older man, shoving him back toward the kitchen. She calls back to you, “Thanks for the coffee! I promise I’ll come by when I feel more like a human again.”

The customer service clicks into place behind your eyes, “Take care of yourself! Hope the baby is doing well!” Once it's just the two of you, you sigh, knocking the heels of your boots together. “I should get going.”

Carmen nods, “Can I grab you a sandwich, first?”

“Grilled cheese?” You tease, stifling a smile.

He huffs, shaking his head, “Nah, but Ebra’s got window right now. I could throw something together real quick.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He glances down; you’re pressing your thumb into the middle of your hand. It's uncanny, the semblance of himself that is mirrored in you.

“I know.” He wants to, though. “Give me five minutes?”

A moment of hesitation, then, “Okay.”

“Cool.” And he’s off.

Chaos erupts the minute he’s back in the kitchen.

“Since when did the two of you become buddy-buddy?”

“Can we please get back to work? Richie, respectfully, what are you doing back here?” Syd is working on pasta, flour covering her work service.

“I got shoved outta my space, so here I am,” Richie waves his hands around.

The overlapping voices turn into white noise, and Carmy inhales sharply, “Fak!”

“Yes, chef!” Neil appears out of nowhere. Sometimes Carmen thinks there’s a series of underground passages that makes it so easy to get ahold of him. It’s not that crazy of a notion.

“Go and say hello to them, okay? I’m gonna throw together something, give it to them, and then I’ll be right back.” The last part is meant for everyone to hear, but is pointed more toward Richie. “Seriously, just leave it, alright?”

“I’m leaving it,” Richie snarks, but nudges Fak with his elbow. “Think there’s a drink out there with your name on it anyway. Snag me another one of those apple-donut-things too, eh?”

“Fritters!” Marcus calls out from his station.

Carmy sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s queasy; he’ll have to take some pepto later.

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

Let it rip, Bear.

Neil barrels into you, wrapping you in a hug. He talks your ear off for the next couple minutes; you smile when you need to, laugh when you remember.

The yells from the kitchen are playing on repeat in your ears.

They’re talking about you.

The urge to flee tickles the back of your throat. You thought it would be nice to stop by and bring Natalie a coffee, but then you had felt bad about not bringing anything for everyone else, which turned into you jumping behind the bar to make ten drinks. It’s not like you were going to make Morgan, the barista on shift, make them all.

You always had a hard time not working on your days off.

“You should absolutely come!”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You reply, still not fully checked back into your conversation with Neil.

He smiles, “Great! I’ll send you the info!”

Before you can ask what you actually agreed to, Carmy pushes back into the room, to-go container in hand. “Hey, uh, Fak, can you go take a look at the toilet for me?” You barely notice Neil leave, focusing more on how your chest releases as Carmen walks closer to you.

He hands you the container, and you murmur a soft, “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you out, yeah?”

The thought is nice. Glancing behind him, you see Natalie and Richie watching through the window. “It’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You take a step back just as Carmy reaches out to you. You can’t run, they’d see you. Ask questions. They probably see a caged animal.

“Hey,” he whispers your name, “it’s just me.” He’s repeating the words you said to him the night you were here. You tear your eyes away from the kitchen, looking at him. “Lemme walk you out?”

With a nod, you let him guide you out the front door. The warm summer air washes over your skin, and you take in a deep breath. You count the lines in the sidewalk as you pass them, sipping at your iced latte. “It was cool of you to come by,” Carmy says. “And your jacket’s dope.”

He’s trying to make you feel better.

“Did you just say dope?” You peek over in his direction, catching his shrug. “You’re so old.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs, and your smile widens.

You make it to your car, a little thing that has a new problem every other week. It’s been with you for years, moved with you to five different states. More of a sentimental object, than a real mode of transportation. You mostly used CTA these days if you were able, but it was nice to have a car for when you’re running errands all around the city.

“Sorry if they bothered you,” he apologizes, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No, no, no,” you push out the words, throat tightening, arms hugging your middle. “I thought I was going to try to be a human today. May have jumped the gun on that one.” Fiddling with your keys, you continue, “It was nice to see you. Thought you might be a vampire or something, since I only ever see you at night.”

The joke causes Carmy to roll his eyes, “Is that considered a cryptid?”

You perk up at the word, “Oh, don’t get me started.”

He smiles big enough for his dimple to appear, “Oh, yeah?”

“Unless you want me to talk for hours on end. I’ll make a power-point presentation and everything.” You might already have one in the works, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You could - I mean, it wouldn’t bother me. If you did, you know?”

You blink a few times, frozen in shock. He looks shy, almost. Like the first time you met him, but there’s something between you now. A plant that will keep growing - might even bloom - if the two of you keep watering it. He keeps pecking away at your carefully crafted walls that let people see exactly how much you want them to.

Carmen Berzatto keeps seeing you. Whoever that is.

He coughs, scratching the side of his head. “I’ll see you later?”

“You know where I’ll be.”

“Yeah.”

You walk around to the driver’s side of your car, opening the door. You slide in, turning the key to let your car sputter to life. You roll the windows down, and music starts to blare from your speakers. “Kick ass tonight!” You yell the words as you pull away from the curb. You spare a glance in your rearview, watching Carmy wave before he starts walking back to his restaurant.

When you're parked outside your apartment, it hits you. You dig into your tote bag, pushing aside old receipts, chapstick tubes, and fidget toys. You cheer to yourself as you pull your notebook out, favorite pen hooked over the cover. Flipping to the back, you stare at the list of drinks you've had Carmy try.

You think you want to keep seeing him, too. Whoever that is.

You scribble at the bottom of the page, circling it twice.

Spiced Chai ~ HOT, xtra cinn

[gyuwoncheol]

15 Minutes

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: Despite time constraints, no one is as committed to get you pregnant than Cheol getting ready for a concert.

Warnings: Concert!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding, multiple orgasms, quickie sex, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe, children), creampie, public sex, marking, wall sex, dirty talk, getting “caught” while having sex

WC: 1.2k

Author’s Note: may be persuaded to write a part 2 to this. I’m back to my pussy drunk/breeding kink!Cheol brain rot.

Read part 2 here: Room Service

Smut directly under the cut.

“FUCK!” You gasped as Seungcheol inserted a second finger inside you, pumping it as fast as he did with the first one. You bit your lips harshly to suppress the loud moan begging to come out, but you knew that if you wanted to save face, you had better keep quiet.

“Cmon baby, let me hear you” he said, the tone in his voice perfectly matching the smirk plastered on his face as he pinned you against the wall. You glared at him angrily before squeezing your eyes shut, reveling in the feeling of his fingers expertly massaging your cunt.

When you flew in to visit Cheol on tour and confessed to him you were ready to try for a baby, you already knew he’d be a giddy and horny mess who’d make sure you’d end your trip pregnant. But you didn’t expect just how much he was committed to it, making up excuses to get you alone, dragging you to the closest secluded place he could find and fucking you full of his cum. And that’s how you ended up in this tiny unused dressing room by the end of the hall. It was bare, save for one set of drawers and a full length mirror to your right. Just yesterday, on day one of the show, he had his way with you right before soundcheck, in the VIP suite on the 3rd level that overlooked the arena.

“You were so loud yesterday and suddenly now you wanna be quiet?” He taunted, leaving a trail of love bites on your neck

“Cheol!” You hissed, “people are actually gonna hear over here!”

“So? everyone already knows i’m trying to get you pregnant” he said matter of factly, not a single care in the world

“Still!” you wanted to argue more, you really did, but the way his long fingers deliciously curled inside you to graze your most sensitive spot had you bucking your hips and mewling loudly to your husband’s delight, orgasm immediately hitting you from nowhere.

Seungcheol pressed his palm to your clit as his fingers continued to move in you, coaxing your orgasm for your full pleasure. “So good for me, baby”

“Scoups!” You heard two loud voices right outside the locked door, one you could make out as Joshua’s and the other probably a staff’s. Regardless, you froze at the sound, hand immediately clutching onto Cheol’s wrist right by your cunt to still his movements. “Vernon just finished with makeup, when Chan finishes, you’re the only one left.”

Much to your horror, Seungcheol replied with a loud “okay” through the door, confirming to the boys that you were definitely in that room doing exactly what you’re doing

“Be done in 15 minutes!” A stern voice called. Yup, definitely their manager.

“I’m sure he can finish in 10” Joshua laughed loudly before jokingly banging the door once.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, at the younger’s tease, “Fuck off!”

“More like fuck her!”

“I will!” He called out just as you heard the steps outside move farther away

“Babe!” You glared at your husband. Your face and ears beet red at the exchange of Cheol and his best friend. Now would really be a good time for the earth to swallow you whole.

A loud whine escaped your throat at the sudden empty feeling when Cheol withdrew his fingers, but before you could even scold him again, his hands were under your thighs to hoist you up against the wall. “Sorry baby, but we gotta make this quick” he rushed before sinking you down on his hard length, your eyes immediately rolling to the back of your head at the intrusion. You weren’t even aware he had already undone his pants or stick his dick out, but you couldn’t be bothered figuring that out, not when your pussy was trying to fit in your husband’s huge cock.

There were 2 things you were thankful for at this moment: one, that your husband made you cum a few minutes ago so that the slide of his dick wasn’t as painful; and two, his strong and most solid body that kept you secured between him and the wall. God knows your knees wouldn’t be able to keep you upright with the way he’s just sheathed himself in you.

Seungcheol was running out of time but he was no quitter, after two slow pumps in, he was thrusting in you at a fast pace, eager to reach his release before he needs to be on the makeup chair and ready for day 2 of their concert.

“Fuuuuuuck yeeeees” you drawled out as the pain of the stretch had now turned into pleasure only your husband could give.

“Cmon baby, give me one more, yeah?”

“Y-yes, daddy!” Your dropped your forehead on his shoulder as you searched a way to ground yourself but hearing you call him daddy only had Cheol grow more feral than he already was.

“Gonna pump you full like you want, baby. Make you a mommy” he growled, now bouncing you up and down to meet his thrusts perfectly, the motion hitting your gspot at every hit.

“R-right there, daddy! Ri-ight th-there!” You stammered as Cheol pistoned his hips in you, desperate to have you reach your second high before he does.

You got pressed even tighter to the wall as Seungcheol’s large hand squeezed both your cheeks, turning your head to face the mirror “look at you, so fucking ruined already and you don’t even have my cum yet”

“Daddy, please!” You moaned in full volume, not at all caring anymore for anyone who can hear you.

“Really want my babies, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll be overflowing with my cum tonight, darling”

You nodded eagerly as you looked at Cheol through the reflection of the mirror. He was right, you looked ruined. You could make out the white ring of your juices that settled on the base of his cock as he impaled your fluttering hole. The hand that was once on your face had now snaked in between you as he pinched your clit hard enough before pressing circles that had the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Shit!” You screamed when you felt your orgasm wash over you in immense pleasure, triggering your husband’s own release to paint your inner walls white.

“Oh my goood” Seungcheol’s voice shook as he trembled beneath you, head falling backwards at the feeling of your pussy’s tight grip on his cock.

After staying silent a good while, just processing the orgasms you both had, Seungcheol slowly let your feet touch the ground, kissing you softly on your face and your neck, leaving you in a giggly mess as he smoothed down your shirt. When he pulled out of you, he made quick work to tuck his softening member back in his pants. His finger was quick enough to catch the glob of cum that dripped out of you before plugging it back in your cunt, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Now, now. How am i gonna make you a mommy if you don’t keep my cum in you?” He chastised, a devilish grin across his face as he pulled your panties up before licking his finger clean. “you’ll keep it in for daddy, won’t you?”

It wasn’t a question, you knew that much. If anything, it was a threat. “Y-yes” you stuttered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.” you confirmed with doe eyes, squeezing your legs tight as Seungcheol buttoned up your jeans.

“Good” Your husband grinned, a hand reaching to the back of your head as he drove you against the wall again, kissing you feverishly “you better still be full of my cum when i fuck you after the show”

Your moan at his words were effectively cut off by another loud bang on the door as Joshua’s fist collided with the hard wood. “Cheol! Make up! Now!”

Part 2: Room Service

[irisintheafterglow]

um blah blah blah something about knight!katsuki tearing through panicked crowds to find you slumped behind a knocked-over table, paling when he sees the growing red patch under the hand on your side.

"shit," is all he manages to force out, and it's all he can say for the next thirty seconds while he tries to figure out how to get you out of here. "no, no, no. you're not fine, dumbass," he snaps when you insist that you're fine. he registers a figure sprinting towards him with an axe and throws a dagger from his belt without even thinking, the assailant falling onto the dirt. "this is all your fault," he mutters as he pulls you from under the table and into a nearby alley.

"i can't believe you're blaming me for my own assassination attempt," you exhale shakily, your breathing too uneven for his liking. "all i wanted was to pick some flowers."

"we could have had the flowers brought to the palace," he argues, raking a nervous hand through his hair. "but you wanted to see them straight from the farmer's market."

"there's not much we can do now that i am bleeding out," you groan, fighting down the bile in your throat when you see how red your hand has become. katsuki's hand gently but firmly grips your wrist, forcing it out of your field of vision.

"don't look at it. just look at me," he commands, scarlet eyes revealing his panic. for the first time in your history together, katsuki looked scared. "just keep looking at me, okay? i'm gonna move you to a safehouse a few blocks away."

"no, please," you plead with him, grabbing his wrist before he can loop his arms under your legs. "it hurts when i move."

"the other option is for you to die, princess, and i'm not letting that happen," he swears. "i shouldn't have ever let this happen to you in the first place."

"it's not your fault," you whisper, your thumb smearing red across his cheekbone.

"isn't it, though?" the expression of pure grief on your knight's face disappears in an instant and, before you can protest, katsuki lifts you from the ground like you weighed nothing at all. you muffle a broken cry into your hand and squeeze your eyes tight against his chest, shaking from the white-hot arc of pain cutting your side. "just stay with me, princess. you're gonna be okay."

"it hurts, kats," you sob quietly and a part of him dies. "it hurts so much."

"i know it does, baby. just stay with me and the pain will go away soon."

katsuki isn't there when you wake up in the palace infirmary, but the news of the pub bloodbath where several members of the criminal underworld were being investigated reached you eventually. your knight was supposed to be leading the investigation, but dragon keeper kirishima revealed that, after the attack in the market, he had taken matters into his own hands.

he had a single thought as he inserted his dripping sword back into its sheath. long live the princess as long as he lived.

[reallyromealone]

How about part 4 to bakugos brother. The plot has thicken. 🙃🫰🏼

Title: bakugos brother

Fandom: bnha

Characters: bnha ensemble

Fic type: series

Chapter: 4

Pairings: kirishima x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, reader is awkward, broken sibling relationship, reader is siblings to Katsuki, hurt to comfort, neglectful parents

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) And Kirishima went upstairs as Aizawa sat in the livingroom with the Bakugo parents, (name) looking surprisingly nervous as he went to his room.

"Whatever he did we will pay for" Mrs. Bakugo started and Aizawa raised his hand to stop her "I'm actually here on behalf of U.A to extend an invitation for your son to attend the general studies program as we have recently opened a spot in that class post sports festival" Aizawa began and watched their reactions carefully, Mr. Bakugo seemed curious and a bit excited at the concept of his son having the experience but Mrs Bakugo seemed... Less thrilled "would that affect Katsuki?" She asked simply and Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her statement.

"The two would be in completely different programs, how on earth would that affect Katsuki?" Mr Bakugo said simply and the blond woman glared without any bite at her husband "Principal Nedzu is particularly interested in his intelligence quirk and would like to talk about it when we do the transfer if you are willing to agree"

And the color drained from their faces.

(Name) And Kirishima cuddled on (name)s beanbag chair, a massive thing that was (name)s first purchase as (name) watched kirishima play a phone game "so you're just building and adventuring?" (Name) Seemed intrigued but also deeply confused at the game "yeah, it's a sandbox game-- you can do basically anything"

"Are there animals?"

"Oh a bunch, they actually just updated the dogs so they have more variety"

"Show me"

"And how would he be able to afford it?" Mrs Bakugo said coldly and Aizawa resisted the urge to roll his eyes "U.A has offered (name) a full scholarship" Mr Bakugo seemed excited at this "really?!" The man seemed over the moon at this but his wife less thrilled "I told you to let him apply!" He said almost angrily and Aizawa looked between them "but the chances of katsu--"" you need one parents approval right?" He cut her off to look at Aizawa who nodded "then you have my approval"

"Masaru!" Mrs Bakugo said angrily and the man looked at her seriously "if we don't do this for our son, we will fail more than we already have"

"Kirishima, time to go" Aizawa said simply and looked at (name) "I expect to see you at U.A Monday with your things packed" the pro said and it took the teens a second to process it all before kirishima grinned at his boyfriend "Yo! We get to hang out all the time now!"

"I get to go?"

"Yup, now better pack, you got a week before you start, Nedzu wants a meeting first thing tomorrow"

"YOU GUYS ARENT GONNA BELEIVE THIS!" Kirishima shouted as he walked into the livingroom area and the others looked confused "my boyfriend got into U.A!" He boasted and Bakugo turned to look at his best friend confused "what." Bakugo said flatly and Kirishima grinned "yeah man! Your brother's gonna be in gen Ed!" Everyone looked at bakugos reaction curiously as many emotions passed his face before just grunting and turning back to his phone.

(Name)s week at home was tense with his mom but his dad always had his back, always making sure he was cared for and the parent who made an effort, he was (name)s rock.

"Just don't get in your brother's way"

Words he heard constantly up until his dad drove him to U.A, giving him an envelope with money "I'll be sending you weekly allowances... I know you have money of your own but that's your money, this is for any emergency things you need" he said softly and (name) took the envelope quietly "I'm sorry that I haven't been enough for you, I know I could do more"

"Mom's a hard person, I know you feel guilt but I know that she doesn't make it easy and you have been there when it counts and stuck up for me so I could be here... I love you dad"

"I love you too kid, now go be stronger than I am"

The two embraced before the man helped (name) get everything into his dorm, kirishima showing up to help "so you're the boy my son's seeing! A pleasure to meet you" (name) smiled as the two greeted and got along very well "yeah! I'm also bakubros best friend!" He said excitedly and Mr. Bakugo had a small sliver of hope that this young man could bridge the two siblings... It was wishful thinking but he always had hope.

Hope that somehow the relationship his wife ruined would be fixed.

(Name) Didn't sleep well the first night, awkward in the new environment and the sudden shift from what he was used to.

Tomorrow he would get an introduction course under Nedzu, the rat wanted to do some tests to truly know what level he was at to gauge where they should move towards education wise.

Things were awkward during lunch as (name) sat alone, everyone hearing about Nedzu's private student and avoided him as such but (name) just played chess on his little travel chess set in the corner, periodically eating his food.

He had an hour to kill, might as well look for any weaknesses in his plays.

"There you are!" (Name) Looked up to see his boyfriend and other 1A students who looked curiously "Aizawa said we got to have lunch at the same time!" The Bakugo siblings locked eyes and (name) offered a seat to his boyfriend who plopped beside him with a grin "so you play chess, what's that like?" The pink girl named Mina asked excitedly and (name) was shy as he responded "a lot of travelling, I been throughout Japan for openings" he said softly "how many have you won?" A blond boy named denki asked and (name) looked a little more confident "I haven't lost, so maybe 50, I have been playing professionally since I was 9"

"Whoa... What do you get if you win?" He asked and (name) thought "the U.A open won me about 100k... But that was the open to let me qualify to international opens but my dad worries I might be too young for that" he said simply and the others looked shocked at the price and did the math "damn you're rich"

Katsuki didn't know this, how many games his brother went to between school and such or how good he was at it, he didn't think about it much but now...

... He kind of felt envious that his best friend knew more about his brother than he did.

The bakusquad asked all sorts of questions throughout lunch and eventually a few more 1A students joined and Momo even planned a chess match between her and (name) for fun.

And for the first time, Katsuki saw his brother look genuinely happy talking to people, typically he didn't talk to people.

It was nice to see.

[johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend]

hamzah missing you on vacation

talk to me - hamzahthefantastic x reader

—————————————

contains: fluff, smut, reader is female, you read the rest and find out

word count: no clue rn but its short

story below the cut

hamzah: hi baby sorry i haven’t been texting n stuff i’ve been busy with martin and mandy yk but i love you sm and i miss you

you: i understand completely :) have fun and dw about me ily too

hamzah: i just got back to my room, u wanna call?

you: ofcc

—————————————

hamzah had gone on vacation to curaçao to relax and film videos for youtube and the podcast. he had brought the trip up to you, asking if you wanted to go. unfortunately, you had work and couldn’t take time off because this was one of their busiest months. you were both obviously disappointed, but he understood and you wanted him to go without you and have fun filming. (#securerelationships) when he got off the plane, that was the moment you realised that it was going to be difficult with extra work and no boyfriend, but you were managing so far. however, today you just got home and boy were you exhausted.

your phone went off as soon as you had sent him the last text. you wait 10 seconds before answering it. “hellooo?” you hear hamzah say. “heyy” you reply, matching his energy. “whats up?” “nothingg, i just missed you” this man knows just what to say. “wait facetime me” he says, while the button pops up on the screen. you answer and see someone else with him. “well hello martin” “y/n! how are you?” “i’m good, how has the trip been for you and mandy?” “so good, she loves it. but this guy here is constantly yapping about how much you would love it too.” “aghh, i know, it looks like a lot of fun, much better than what i’m doing haha.” “alright well i’m gonna go back to my room, cya guys.”

martin leaves hamzah’s hotel room to go back to his own. he turns his camera off, but you didn’t think much of it at the time. you can hear fumbling on his end of the phone. “so, tell me about your day.” you think hard, not even remembering what you did, but start giving him a little summary. you hear a zipper while you talk, but continue as he was probably just changing. you hear him release a groan, “hamzah? are you okay?” “yeah i- just wish you were here right now. hearing your voice isn’t enough.” you finally caught on.

“are you… jerking off right now?” his breath hitches a little. “i’m sorry- i just can’t get you out of my head baby. imagining you in a bikini just makes it worse.” he breathes out. your cheeks grow redder, thankful he wasn’t there to see it. the truth is that you needed him badly too. “well, what would you do if i was there?” you ask him in a more lustful tone. he stops palming himself through his boxers, and removes them instead. “i would pull the string from your- top” he starts slowly stroking his dick. you start taking off your oversized shirt, not bothering to wear a bra because you were home alone. “and then, fuck, i would kiss you everywhere and touch your boobs.” you start massaging your breasts, moaning a little. “mhm, and then what?”

he whimpers, barely audible on the phone. “i wish my hand was yours right now baby. i would probably- m’ take off your bikini and fuck you so good.” he groans out while you take off your panties. you insert a finger into your pussy, ”uh shit, hamzah” you moan out, wanting to help him reach his high. his breathing gets heavier, and all you can think about is if he was the one fingering you right now. “you make me so fucking hard babe-“ you push in another finger, rubbing your clit slightly faster. “keep going hamzah” you praise him, making him involuntarily buck his hips into his hand. “i bet your pussy would taste so good right now.” he says, and you stretch yourself more.

“i can’t hold it,” “just let go y/n” that last sentence made you moan loudly and release your orgasm, panting to try to catch your breath. he groans out, cumming on himself, relieved. “i love you so much.” “i love you too” “you’re definitely coming on the next trip no matter what.” you start getting stuff ready to clean yourself up. “i will, and i think im gonna take a shower now baby.”

“mmm, part 2?”

—————————————

thank you for the request im so tired and drained rn but hopefully this will hold you guys off for the next one. ;)

[t0msvi4gra]

This might be weird and controversial but can you write like a smut scene where tom is like a teacher and he's a married man with children and stuff and there's like an age gap between him and the reader, who is rebellious and failing his subject. One day after tom has finished correcting the exams and noticed how she failed again he was completely fed up and called her to his office and she was wearing very provocative clothing (a mine skirt and a blouse that shows her cleavage) and she tries to flirt with tom to let her pass and at some point he gets really fed up and bends her over the table/spanks her and says stuff like "you dirty fucking slut", while lecturing her on her bad grades after that he fingers her but he doesn't all the way have sex with he cus he remembers his wife and shi but he just couldn't control himself

its not weird at all!! i promise my acc is a safe space for your fantasies or anything!!

AGE GAP | TOM KAULITZ X READER

warning: reader is 18, tom is 26

you have always been a good student, you’ve got good grades and you’ve turned in your work on time, but professor kaulitz’s class is challenging for you and you’ve really really tried.

but you turned in a test to him but the next day, tom asked to see you in his classroom.

“yes sir? you wanted to see me.” you ask hovering your books over your skirt. “yes please sit.” he says as he gets up and puts your test on your desk. “whats going on? why havent you been asking me for help? or your peers?” he asks softly but sternly.

“i dont know. im sorry. im trying i swear.” you say fidgeting with your fingers.

“so what i’m gonna have you do is stay after so we can go over the questions, then you can retake tomorrow in class okay?”

“but sir i cant-“ he cuts you off “doesnt matter you need to arrange that okay? you have your notes.” you reluctantly nod. “fine.”

you look up at him for a few seconds. you always found him hot… and the things he could do to you. you quickly stop thinking like that but you feel yourself getting wet. you shut your legs tighter together and you start to correct your test.

“whats wrong, honey?” he asks with mock innocence. “n-nothing, sir. just cold.” you gulp and he gets closer and he puts his hand on your thigh, his hand traveling up.

his hand reaches your panties. “come on, focus baby.” he says teasing you as he gently rubs your clit through your panties.

“s-so this- p-art me..means..” you get cut off my the feeling of his fingers on your clit. “means what baby?” he whispers in your ear. “means.. divide right?” you manage to say. “mhm… now solve it for me.” he says lowly and he puts your hands in your panties. “this is what happens when you dont put effort in my tests..” he whispers and he puts his hand in your panties and he inserts his fingers in you. “damn youre so wet.” he says as you throw your head back and he covers your mouth so no one would hear you. “shh shh…” he shushs you as you squirt a little and it drips on the floor and he pulls his fingers out.

“bend over my desk.” he commands as you get up and bend over his desk and he pushes pencils and papers off so you have room. “damn this tight ass… i bet that pussy is tight too huh?” he says almost jokingly.

“sir, dont you have a wife and 2 kids?” you ask innocently…

“mhm but shes a little slut anyway… all she does is cheat and get drunk everyday.. i bet your pussy is so much better.” he rubs your ass. “this is what you get for being a bad student.” he smacks your ass hard, leaving a red handprint and you yelp and he smacks you again. “shut the fuck up. you dont want to get caught do you?” he says pulling tour panties down. “no sir i dont.” you say muffling your voice.

“good.”

he bends down to lick at your pussy juices. “fuck yes, so good.. mmm” he moans against your pussy before coming back up and aiming his cock at your pussy from behind.

“you ready?” he asks before slamming into you. “tom! oh fu-“ he slaps your ass. “what the hell did i say about screaming?”

“s-s-sorry.. it feels so good..” you whimper, trying to suppress your moans.

youre parents call you. “st-stop.. my parents are calling.” he picks up the phone. “listen to how good your daughter feels.” he puts the mic to your mouth as you whimper. he chuckles and hangs up, pounding the fuck out of you. “youre such a bad fucking girl… such a bad slut…” he grabs your hips roughly.

“cum for me sweetheart.” he groans loudly.

“you can do it come on.” he pounds you harder as you squirt and cum all over his cock. “oh fuck yes, im cumming!” he yells out, not even bothering if he gets caught. he pulls out, watching his cum drip out of you.

he pulls his pants up and helps you to do the same.

“fuck that was amazing, baby.” he chuckles

“great now my parents are gonna ground me.” you sigh.

“oh shush you liked it.” he says with his hot accent. “maybe i did.” you shake from the pleasure.

“now you have to do those corrections okay? and wear something less showy.” he points to your cleavage.

[bohemianblasphemy]

Butcher fucking you after he's had a hard day... 👁👁

good morning!!! back at it again with more butcher, i hope you enjoy. 🥰✨

the door slams and heavy boots storm into the living space of your shared apartment. the sudden sounds shocking you, causing you to shoot up off the couch to investigate. Billy is home, and he’s not happy. “baby what’s happened are you ok-“ you are cut off by butcher pulling you into him, sealing your lips with his. the kiss is rough and sloppy, his tongue slipping into your mouth. his hands reach your head, tangling his thick fingers in your hair before resting on the back of your neck. he pulls away to breathe, before whispering “get your ass on the bed, i need you…”

you don’t hesitate, having been thinking about him all day. you race to the bed, clothing quickly dispersed around the bedroom floor. sitting on the bed, waiting for him to walk in after you. you can hear his heavy boots on the floor coming nearer and nearer to the room and his large figure appears. his coat is thrown to the ground and one of his many hawaiian shirts is long gone. he starts to undo his belt, and your mouth waters at the sight of him pushing his jeans and underwear to the ground, leaving him bare before you. his cock is at attention, desperately seeking relief.

“i need ta fuck your mouth, can i do that sweetheart?” he grins and you nod which prompts him to move forward in front of you. “get on your knees f’me.” you promptly do so, which has you face to face with his large, leaky cock. he reaches down to your head once again and grabs a fistful of your hair “open wide my sweet…” your mouth falls open as butcher inserts his cock into your mouth and thrusts his hips to go deeper. his groans of pleasure fill your ears and his hips snap into your mouth faster, causing your eyes to water. “fuck your mouth is so fucking good doll” he continues to thrust until he pulls out suddenly- looking down at you as you breathe heavily with your mouth covered in saliva and billy’s pre cum.

“get on the fuckin bed, get on your back.” you obey, laying back onto the pillows and spreading your legs, exposing yourself to him. he looks down at you, taking the sight of his love before him. your pussy is wet and ready for him. he crawls onto the bed and props himself above you, his fingers reach down between your legs to touch you, feeling your soaked middle. he takes those fingers and dips them inside you, pumping them for a few seconds before removing them, and using your wetness to lube himself up. he suddenly pulls your hips towards him, lining up his thick cock with you before thrusting into you roughly. his hips snap against yours at a fast place, causing the bed to shake and squeak. “f-fuck butcher you’re so good…” you struggle to get your words out, butcher is hitting the spot inside you every single time.

his aggressive thrusts never seem to slow, but it was euphoric. his eyes never left your face, watching your mouth fall open with pleasure and your facial expressions that never fail to make butcher harder. his thumb reach down to your clit, rubbing it in circles and your eyes fall behind the back of your head. “oh fuck bill i’m gonna fucking cum…” this causes him to thrust into your quicker, him also close to the edge.

his breaths are becoming jagged, thrusts becoming sloppy. “fuck i’m gonna cum- ohhh fuck…” he spills himself inside of you, and you quickly follow suit, your legs shaking and moans filling the room. you close your eyes, trying to gain composure from your high. billy is breathing hard above you and leans down to kiss you, holding your throat lightly in his hand. “you’re such a good girl f’me… but we ain’t done yet.” he smirks at you, and you reciprocate the exact expression- this was going to be a long night and you both were looking forward to it…

[amurotoorudesu]

how to kiss someone

kudo shinichi x male reader

suggestive theme, kissing, bottom male reader, switch male reader, top shinichi kudo, switch shinichi kudo, curse, making out, reader is a fboy

____________________________________________

"w-what...?" the (e/c) eyed boy with glasses looked at his best friend with confused face.

"teach me how to kiss someone." said the black haired boy with dense look and flat tone.

(m/n) shook his head, positioning his glasses, wondering what demon possessed shinichi that he randomly asked this question.

or rather a request?

he didnt know either. (m/n) looked at shinichi again with frowned eyebrow.

"why do you want to learn that?" he can see the blue eyed boy's cheek slightly turning red and quickly averted his gaze to look at other things.

"do you... perhaps want to kiss ran?"

shinichi quickly turn his head around and look at (m/n) with blushed but annoyed face.

"i-i just... i dont want to disappoint my future lover!"

"by not be able to be a good kisser?"

"w-well... i-i mean... you definitely a good one, remembering you often kissed plenty of girls and guys."

and (m/n) nodded without hesitation.

"but are you seriously want to learn this so you could kiss ran?"

(m/n) observed the blue eyed boy's reaction and chuckle.

"pfft— as if you have the guts to kiss her"

"j-just shut up and teach me!" 

(m/n) rolled his eyes and told shinichi to get on his bed after talking on the side of the bed.

shinichi was getting nervous, because after they changed position, (m/n) keep on looking at his eyes and not his mouth, considering the (h/c) haired boy habits about looking at the others mouth and listening to them.

"okay, so first one, you seduce the person." 

(m/n) slowly lean into shinichi, putting his right hand onto shinichi's cheek, carresing it as he kept on getting closer.

"but since you can already seduce ran, maybe we can skip this part, yeah~?" the glasses boy grinning, making shinichi's face turned red and heart beating fast.

"second, you can tease the person by giving them little pecks"

before (m/n) lean and show shinichi how to do it, he pulled his glasses with one hand, letting the detective to see his rare face without glasses.

the detective was mesmerized, looking at the white pale skin and those tired eyes without the glasses, the slightly flushed face and those plump lips.

fuck... 

"loving what you see~?" 

realized he went spacing out while looking at (m/n) with lovestruck face, he just huffs and looked back at the glasses with challenging gaze.

"just teach me already"

(m/n) smirking and he lean onto shinichi, his lips met with shinichi, giving him little pecks and closing his eyes.

on the other hand, shinichi feels like hes slowly flying through the cloud nine, the feeling of (m/n)'s lips on his, and how the (e/c) eyed teased him by only give him short kisses making him eager.

he want to kiss (m/n) so much

"dont forget to close your eyes and breath through your nose"

(m/n) cut their kiss, panting while he get close to shinichi.

both of them didnt realize they were already so close, (m/n) sitting on shinichi's lap and their hand on eachother waist.

"third, once you and the person get comfortable, just make out, tongue and biting is really fun on this part"

they both lean onto each other, hitting those lips while (m/n) insert his tongue and shinichi give (m/n) small bite on his bottom lips.

sounds echoes through the room, they should be grateful because there was no one at (m/n)'s house because they're kinda being loud, whining and whimpering.

the makeout lasts for about two minutes, after they done, (m/n) put his head on shinichi's shoulder, hiding his red face on the crook of the detective's neck.

"that was fun" said the (h/c) haired boy.

"how's my performance?"

"good, you might need to have another practice though."

shinichi kissed the glasses boy on his pale neck, making (m/n) shiver.

and right when (m/n) was gonna get out of shinichi's lap, the black haired boy picked him up and threw him on the bed, caging (m/n) with his arm from running away.

now it's shinichi's turn to smirk, looking at (m/n) like the (e/c) eyed boy is his prey.

"you said i need more practice, right? mind if you're the test subject now~?"

and (m/n)? he looks at shinichi with kind of terrified but excited eyes.

i leave the rest of them to your mind.

____________________________________________

a/n : omg my first debut fanfic 😦😦 written in rush lmao, maybe the explanation wont be 100% true cz im a virgin both on the lips and ass, i accidentally fell asleep when i write this so forgive me, also english is not my first language

[alieinthemorning]

Low Temperatures [Sylus]

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Sick Character, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

“Why is it so cold in here?” The moment your bare feet grazed the marble floor of Sylus’ room, a sharp chill ran up and down your body.

“Did you know that you should sleep with the room temperature at between sixty and seventy-two degrees?”

“So fucking freezing and freezing?” You padded your way over to the thermostat, turning it up to 75. “Don’t touch it.”

“It’s my thermostat.” You rolled your eyes at Sylus’ pout, heading over to the bed. 

“Well now it’s our thermostat since I’m sleeping in here tonight.” Throwing the covers back, you flopped down.

You should have known simple words wouldn’t have stopped Sylus. You should have walked out the moment he brought up that cold ass “correct” temperature bullshit. All you wanted was sleep, a quick rest, a simple rest of the eyes. But now here you were, cold, cranky, and cuddled up against the culprit. 

“Why is it so fucking cold?” Your voice was rough, you sure were sick. 

“It feels quite comfortable to me.” Despite being burrowed deep in the covers, you could hear the smug smile. “You were holding onto me so tightly…am I to assume it was because you were cold and nothing else?”

“Shut up—” Your words became a wet, garbbed mess of coughs. 

You felt Sylus shift closer. “Are you seriously sick?”

“Did you seriously touch my shit when I told you not to?” Another string of harsh coughs. 

Silence blanketed the room, for once he had nothing to say. You untangled yourself from the blankets, making your way to the thermostat. You could feel Sylus’ gaze on your back, but you ignored it. 

It was at 62 degrees. 

You headed for the door.

He didn’t try to stop you. 

You hated being sick. You hated being away from home, and sick. You especially hated being away from home, sick and living under the same roof as the person who made you sick as a fucking gotcha (or whatever). 

“Man, you’re weak.” 

“Yeah, sixty-two degrees isn’t even all that cold.”

“Get out.” 

You were not in the mood for Luke and Kieran shenanigans because if they were gonna shenan once, they would shenan again.

“No can do.”

“The boss gave us explicit orders to watch over you.” 

You groaned (mistake, turned in another bad cough), and rolled your eyes. “Then watch me quietly. I want to sleep.”

“But you’ve been doing nothing but sleeping this entire time.” Kieran pointed. 

“And that’s boring.” Luke agreed with a nod. 

“Yeah, we should—”

A ping cleared the air, cutting Kieran off. Luke slipped his phone from his pocket, glancing at the message. 

“It’s boss. He wants to see us.” 

“Really? I thought we had the day off.”

“Good, hurry up and don’t come back.” You would have physically pushed them out, but your body was aching, so you hoped a fierce glare was enough to get them moving. 

It wasn’t. They took their sweet ass time leaving your room, but at least they were nice (see: being a nuisance) enough to turn the lights off as they left. 

Finally, peace and quiet. Well, peace, quiet and pain. But with a commentary video on in the background, you were able to lull yourself to sleep. 

The next few days went by slowly, and uneventful. The twins never came back after Sylus had called for them. You were both grateful and a bit annoyed (you would have liked to have a bit of entertainment as you were getting better). Then you were fully recovered, and the twins still hadn’t reared their masked heads. You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel and headed for the reason why.

Entering the room, you immediately beelined it for the thermostat.

It was set to 75 degrees. 

You headed for the bed.

He didn’t try to stop you nor move from his spot.

You snuggle into the bed, happy with the comfort that surrounded you. You were content with the silence, not really expecting him to speak to you, and you weren’t willing to extend the olive branch. But then he spoke,

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, as his book clapped shut. “For disregarding your words, and getting you sick.” 

You let the apology settle in the air for a moment before responding. “I don’t like that you did that—I’ve got a weak constitution.” You paused, toying with your bottom lip. “...but I should have told you that before just changing something and expecting you not to change it back. So I’m sorry too.”

“Now that we’ve both gotten the apologies out of the way,” You felt him lean over you, “Will you return to the bedroom?”  

“Oh? Was someone lonely without me?”

His lips grazed your ear. “Of course I was.”

“Oh.” You shuddered. “What should we do about our loneliness then?”

“I can think of a few things.”

For the first time ever

NSFW Continuation

Everyone thank my friend and Sylus for this.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[incorrectbatfam]

What your favorite batfam member says about your New Year's resolution

Dick: your goals are health or fitness-related but you're gonna cave the second you see your favorite snack (nothing wrong with treating yourself)

Jason: you're gonna try to read more books and become more intellectual except you get distracted by Tumblr brainrot (*insert that one post about the gutters looking up at the stars too*)

Tim: you want to prioritize your mental health but unfortunately the rest of the world doesn't agree (heal just to spite them)

Damian: you're gonna try to make friends and you're gonna look like a complete freak while doing so (embrace it and the right people will too)

Duke: the planet is on fire and you're having too big of an existential crisis to know what you want (just breathe, you're not the only one)

Cullen: you want to live your truth but something is pushing you back into the closet (the right pace is your own)

Stephanie: you're scattered all over the place and you wish you could just pull yourself together (it's okay to set things down)

Cassandra: you're trying to catch up on a milestone that everyone expected you to have already passed (it's all a construct)

Barbara: you're hesitant to make a resolution because your goals are too lofty (sometimes it's the little efforts that count)

Harper: you have something or someone you're trying to look after (just don't forget yourself along the way)

Carrie: you have an impossible fantasy like building a spaceship to Pluto or riding a unicorn across the rainbow (don't ever change)

Kate: you're working to quit something that's been hurting you (even if you fall off, it's always worth another try)

Helena: you're in a transition period of your life and you hope the next big step goes off without a hitch (but don't forget to live in the present)

Luke: you're finally gonna complete that unfinished project you've been working on the past three years (even if you don't, the fun is in the process)

Bette: you want to learn something new and interesting that doesn't have any immediately useful applications (do it anyway, capitalist notions of utility are bullshit)

Alfred: you're trying to change how others see you (you can only do so much, their imagination is not your responsibility)

Selina: you have a major problem that you want to turn that around but you don't know how (it's okay to get a second opinion)

Bruce: you have some relationships that need to be examined and you want to figure out what's worth salvaging and what to cut out of your life (trust yourself, you got this)

[lovelycrimsonredsnow]

Sonic characters and their love languages (sonic, shadow, knuckles, and silver):

Sonic:

💙 definitely physical affection and quality time.

💙 jit cannot go one minute without being near you or he.will.die

💙 that's what he says anyways

💙 he knows he can be a little over-baring so he tries not to come off as clingy as he actually is

💙 he follows you around everywhere to, store? He can help you carry bags! Work? He'll make sure no one bothers you! Bathroom? He's right outside the door.

💙 now exactly how clingy he is kinda depends on whether it's romantic or platonic

💙 if it's platonic he won't really feel the need to stake a claim in you by always being around. He's much more toned down if he only sees you as a friend or family.

💙 if it's Romantic holy shit- bro always has a hand in you one way or another, especially in public. Either holding your waist or having his arm around your shoulder ....

💙 it feels natural to him.

Shadow:

🖤 acts of service and quality time I'm calling it now.

🖤 he feels so bad whenever he can't bring you with him :( What if something happens???

🖤 like sonic he's pretty much always near you.... except most of the time you don't know it

🖤 it's not stalking ofcourse, he's just....protecting you ok?

🖤 he fears what happened to Maria will happen to you...

🖤 onto lighter topics :) whenever he does come back to you he always gives you a hug before doing your chores for you without saying a word. Dishes? Nah, shadow will do it, what if you you wash a knife and get a cut? Laundry? He can do that to, y'know you look a little tired maybe you should rest...

🖤 if you try to stop him he'll give you a look before pushing you back down onto the couch.

🖤 how dare you interrupt his cleaning >:(

🖤 it's all for you after all....

Knuckles:

🥊acts of service, I see him doing like shadow litterly everything for you because your fragile to him.

🥊 he's like your personal bodyguard to, no one is gonna bother you with him around that's for sure .

🥊 scary dog privilege? Scary dog privilege. Him and shadow both....

🥊 he's not very physically affectionate or verbally affectionate either, mainly because one what if he accidentally crushes you?? Second of all boy doesn't know what to say tbh-

🥊 someone get this man some social anxiety meds😭

Silver:

🤍 physical affection and words of affirmation.

🤍 mf can't go anywhere without you 💀

🤍 it's like the that one scene from family guy with Donna and Cleveland.

🤍 you'll be walking to the kitchen to get a class of water when suddenly you hear name being shouted by a sobbing silver who's stuck under the sheet 😂

Anyway-

🤍 he follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy, y'know privacy? Yah forget her you have silver now.

🤍 he's like the worse clingier version of shadow and sonic....

🤍 can and will go into heavy detail about how you should be a nation wide treasure

🤍 although while he's a simp who can't leave you alone for one millisecond your very much protected with him.

🤍 not a single hair on your head will be harmed as long as he's here...

Bonus!:

*silver walks in to see sonic and knuckles fighting over who gets you*

Silver: 😶....what do you mean it's not my turn??? *Insert angry silver using his telekinesis to throw them out the window*

Also silver: *Insert hysterical sobbing near y/n* "YOUR MY BABYYYY"

Shadow: I already told you idiots that I'd have them for the week...I have... nothing to do anyway *awkwardly hides the piles of darks he forgot to do*

[huggybearhughes43]

https://www.tumblr.com/huggybearhughes43/755909794547761152/yesss-to-the-threesome-idea

…Part two… i beg please🛐

Star boy

Luke Hughes x Fem! Reader

Part two of my Hughes brothers series pt.1 (you don’t have to read but it’ll add some context)

Warnings- smut, shower oral (f! Receiving), raw dawgin, cream pie, riding

Summary- Luke scores a game winning goal, so reader asks him to come over so she can show him how proud she is.

Word count- 1.4k

The buzzer goes off and the team surrounds Luke as they cheer. Luke just scored the winning shot in overtime against the flyers. I stared in shock at the screen playing from my living room. I was furious that this was the one game I missed. Sitting back in my chair while the camera fans out while the boys scare off the ice, I open my phone to Luke’s contact. It had been weeks since I’d slept with Jack and Luke but I hadn’t been able to think of anything else since.

Then as if clock work, Luke texts me. “Did you see that score?!” The text reads and I smile to myself. “Yeah I did” I text back, “if you’re free tonight I can show you how proud I am? ;)” I press send and toss my phone on the couch, adrenaline rushing through my veins just from a simple text. I decide to a shower to clear my thoughts. But what I didn’t hear through my blasting music was Luke walking through my front door using the spare key I gave to each of the bothers, in case of emergencies of course. And I didn’t hear Luke walk into the open bathroom, undressing himself right outside the curtain.

I didn’t notice him at all until I feel hands wrap around my waist as I sing along to my favorite song. I jump so hard I was sure Luke would have a bruise on his rib from my defensive elbow. I realize it was him, breathing deeply and rubbing my eyes. “Jesus Luke.” I shake my head and he laughs, “sorry, pretty girl.” He kisses my shoulder gently. I sigh, “it’s okay.” I smile and look back at him. “That was an amazing shot, you know?” He smiles brightly and press a kiss to my lips. “I’m sorry I missed it.” I mumble against his lips. “Don’t be” he shakes his head.

His hands begin to roam over my body and I just laugh. “You know how fast we’d bust our asses if we fucked in here?” I raise a brow at him and he smiles stupidly, turning me to face him. “I think I’ll take the risk, besides I wouldn’t let you fall.” He says as sinks to his knees. “Lu, what’re you- oh fuck.” I’m cut off my Luke pressing his face into my cunt and licking a stripe. One of my hands lace in his hair while the other braces onto the wall. I whine out his name, throwing my head back in pleasure. His hands hold my hips tightly, so tight that if I were to slip he’d be able to hold me up. He runs his tongue over my clit and I swear I was in heaven. His eyes look up at my face, the look of pleasure plastered on it encouraged him even further.

He moves his tongue down my pussy, inserting it into my hole. I gnaw at my lip, my eyes pinched shut painfully tight. “Luke, I’m gonna cum.” I warn. Luke doesn’t stop his movement of rotations from my entrance to my clit and back again, trying to get me over the edge to cum all over his face. My eyes look down for a split second, mine connecting with Luke’s. This simple gesture throws me over the edge, my legs shaking around Luke’s head as I cum. Luke works me through the orgasm and even more after that. I try to push his head away but he does budge. “Lu, it’s too much.” I whine, and with this he sits back on his heels. “M’sorry princess, you just taste so good.”

The pout on his lips makes me smile. “C’mon Luke.” I tug him, asking him to stand. Without a second thought he does what I ask. His height towers over me, I smile up at him. “Lu, I wanna ride you.” I say in an innocent tone, batting my eyelashes up at him. He presses his lips to mine, the harshest I’ve ever felt him kiss. His hand reaches behind me to switch off the shower before he pulls the curtain to the side and leads me out. His strong hands reach under my thighs and lifts me up. Instinctively, I wrap my leg as around his waist.

He takes me into the bedroom, tossing me gently on the bed. The beads of water from the shower that dripped off of our bodies moistened the bed underneath us, but I couldn’t find the mind to care. “Lu-“ I begin to remind him what I wanted to do. “I know” he cuts me off before he falls onto the bed, allowing me to climb into him. I straddle his hips, spreading my legs onto his waist before I bend down and press my lips to his. His hands grasp my hips, pressing me harder onto him.

I moan out, reaching down between us to line his thick cock up with my entrance. I throw my head back, moaning out his name, as I slowly sit down on him. He was bigger and thicker than Jack, I was sure he’s the biggest I’ve ever had. I brace myself by holding onto his chest. I was breathless by the time he was fully inside of me. I bend down and nestle my head into his shoulder. “Luke… need help.” I whine into his skin, breathing in deep his scent. “I’ve got you, pretty girl.” He tightens his grasp on my hips before moving me back and forth on him.

I moan out his name repeatedly as he fucks into me. One of my hands is tightly gripping onto the sheets under us while the other one is rested on the nape of his neck. His hands move down to squeeze my ass, using it to move me up and down on him. I try to tell him I’m close but the only thing I can manage to let out my mouth is moans and his name. He feels my pussy flutter and clench against him and he gets the hint, keeping his movements consistent. My jaw drops as he readjusts his hips, hitting deeper into my cunt.

My nails dig deep into his neck as he pushes me over the edge. My legs shake around his waist, my cream coating his cock. “Where do you want it?” He manages to speak out through his own groans. “In me.” I whine out, forcing my eyes open to watch him release. His mouth falls agape, looking to the side to connect our lips. I kiss him deeply, swallowing his groans as he fills me up with his warm cum. I disconnect the kiss to wiggle off of him. I flop down on the bed next to him tiredly. Luke stands up and I become alerted. “Where are you going.” He looks back at me and smiles, “calm down, I’ll be right back.”

He keeps his promise and comes back with a warm rag. He leans over me on the bed, peppering kisses onto my face as he reaches down to clean me up. He tosses the rag over into my clothes basic before settling down next to me. He pulls me flush against his chest, his hand coming up to play with my hair. “It’s not fair Jack got to do that before me.” He sighs and I smile. I stay quiet but then he speaks up again, “who was better?” I look up at him with wide eyes, “I can’t answer that.” He huffs and continues to play with my hair. “You” I say quietly and he laughs. “Good to know, pretty girl.”

“And I really am proud of you for that goal, it was amazing.” I mumble into his chest. “Thank you.” He holds his grasp onto me harder as if he were mimicking a hug into our cuddles. We were quiet for a while, I even thought he had fallen asleep. Well, until Luke spoke up again. “If I tell you something, promise me you won’t get mad?” I look up at him questionably, “I can’t promise that.” He takes in a needed breath before speaking. “Jack told Quinn.” He speaks out quickly. “Told him what?” My eyes widen. “About what happened, Jack told Quinn he highly recommend.” Luke laughs softly. I shake my head and press it back into his chest.

“He said he wants a turn.”