#i never expected people to follow me or to start writing myself
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I recently hit a pretty cool follower milestone and I just wanted to say thank you to all of you 🥺💗
#i made this sideblog to read and reblog fics#i never expected people to follow me or to start writing myself#i know its been forever since ive posted my writing#but ill be back soon!!!#love you all💞💗#personal#sally says stuff
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Laundry is done for now. We'll see if any writing actually gets done.
#I really want to finish the rewrite of this chapter that I'm working on#there's only about half of a typed page left but that's at least a page handwritten out#something that has passed through my mind the last couple of days is to start typing up the beginning of Tales Of A Frozen Sailor#and to possibly start posting it on AO3 as a way to try and encourage myself to actually get this rewrite done#because there's still so much more that needs to be written and at this point I'm getting to the spot where my confidence is waining#about finishing this at all#if I had outward pressure of knowing people are waiting for updates it might give me some accountability#but at the same time I had intended to have it all finished before posting this time#especially since at this point I'm not actually sure if what I've currently written is going to remain in this exact order#I might play around a little with some of the chapter placement#but it's still too early for that as I'm not even really half way through the rewrite#especially since there are certain parts that I'm intending on expanding hopefully#also I fear posting it because I have a feeling I know what will happen#there might be some little interest in the beginning but long before the end any interest that might be there will dwindle#and I'll never know what people think of the whole thing#as that's always been the case for me and pretty much all of my writing#which is fine. it's just disheartening as much as I expect it at this point#I'm just not one who gets a lot of attention for my writing#don't mind me I'm just getting in my head about the comparison game#I mostly write for myself but it would be nice for there to be at least one or two others who were as excited about my writing as me#and that's not to say that there wasn't originally excitement about Tales Of A Frozen Sailor#because there definitely and I'm ever so thankful for those who did follow until where I ended it#anyways I should be writing story not complaining about the potential of the story not being read and commented on#tales of a frozen sailor#musing on tales of a frozen sailor
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Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi
Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.
Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.
The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):
The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.
In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)
Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.
I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.
The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.
The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)
Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.
Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.
To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.
#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#laios touden#shuro#toshiro nakamoto#the winged lion#autistic#autism#clay writes#i GUESS#this was so spur of the moment. im so busy right now i dont have time to be analysing laios touden#i wuont angry autistic rep..
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this is my final post! the past few years have been amazing - thank you for everything <3 (more info below the cut)
I will no longer post on this account and wanted to write a note to explain and say goodbye.
Bnha and the bkdk fandom have been a constant source of joy and excitement in my life since 2018 - you were all so kind and encouraging towards me, and I grew so much in skill and confidence as a result! I’ll really treasure my time in this fandom. I loved experiencing so much incredible fanwork and freaking out over exciting moments from the series with everyone in real time. (I still remember choking on my drink and falling to the ground when I saw the vol.29 cover on my tl omg… it was life changing.)
I went on hiatus last year to reconnect with my passion for making art outside of bkdk and learn what I wanted to create without the influence of external validation. I had time to reflect on how much I was influenced by numbers on social media. I thought they didn’t affect me, but in truth, they completely ruled my artistic judgment and decisions. I found new hobbies, new media, experimented with different mediums and subject matters, and in the end… I rediscovered my joy for making art!
This year, I gave myself a fresh start instead of returning to this account. This is partly because I really enjoy exploring erotic and transgressive themes and I don’t want to share it on a large account to people who followed me under a different pretense haha. But the main reason is that I wanted to create a space without any expectation for what kind of art I should make based on my previous work (since I know the majority of people follow me because I draw bkdk, and I mainly draw ocs and unrelated fanart now).
All this to say, I hope we can cross paths in the future, but if that day never comes, thank you for the wonderful memories and support you’ve given me over the years! This fandom has so many incredible people in it and I sincerely wish you all the best. PLUS ULTRA!!!! and farewell! :’3
Lots of love,
Rikki <3
[This account will stay up, but I won't be checking it much. If you have any questions or would like to get in touch, email me at [email protected] and we can go from there!]
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Her Emperor, His Destiny
(Alpha!Paul Atreides x Omega!BeneGesserit!Reader)
Summary: Ever since Paul presented no omega has smelled remotely appealing to him. His only reprieve is his dreams that have been filled with nothing but an angelic voice calling out to him, the silhouette of a woman he can’t quite make out, and the sweetest saccharine smell. Wk: 3.2k
Warnings: General omegaverse behaviors, knotting, scenting, marking, breeding, Paul and reader are a soul bound pair, inappropriate use of the voice(by both Paul & Reader) , fluff, kinda love making? Idk this is much softer than my usual smut. I think that’s it, lmk if I missed any!! 18+MNDI!!
A/N: Listen… I know this is left field for me but I made a promise to myself that I would start writing for ME again, and that means writing whatever I want. I saw Dune 2 and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Paul is so alpha coded I feel like it was dropped in my lap.
Paul expected the air to be different, smell different, out in the desert planes of Arkkis. Thus far it’s as he expected. The smell of spice and sand permeate the air to the point that it’s over powering, flooding every single one of your senses. The sand lingers on any inch of exposed skin practically borrowing its way underneath. The smell of spice is so strong that it feels like it’s drowning you, invading your lungs and nostrils, coating them, leaving your insides feeling like sandpaper if you dare breathe it in.
But as he follows Stilgar into the sietch he can’t even be bothered with the glares and sideways glances from the Freman because the further they walk the more his senses are hit with an overwhelmingly saccharine smell. It was like someone was baking the finest pastry mixed with a warm milk bath on a cold winter's day. He had only ever smelled something as sweet as this in his dreams. A scent he’s dreamed of so vividly that it lingered in his nostrils when he woke, but he’s never caught a whiff of it in waking hours until now. There was no doubt in his mind that this is the same scent. The scent that’s haunted him every night since he presented. The scent of his omega, his destined mate.
“I can hear and smell you scenting back there, Paul Atreides… I suggest you get your pheromones under control before we enter.” Stilgar looks back at him with an apprehensive look and Paul apologizes nodding in agreement. “Mating is a very sacred thing to my people. Each pair must be approved and blessed by the high priestess. And all unmated omegas rooms are on the opposite side of the alphas. It is very important that you follow all rules, but especially this one. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I understand.” He understood the rule but does that mean he was going to follow it? He could certainly try. But that scent was intoxicating and the closer they got to the sietch the stronger it got. He knows given the chance, he’d break that rule in an instant. Consequences be damned.
“Many wait for their soul bound mate and majority of them die alone, never finding the one.” Paul found this odd. Soul bounds are few and far between nowadays and he comes from a place where mating is a transaction, a bargain, something of power and not of love. But as that sugary sweet scent swirls around him, almost making him dizzy, he thinks he might understand wanting to wait for your one. It’s been a few years now since he presented and no omega has ever smelled even remotely appealing to him. They either smelled of nothing or downright revolting, his only reprieve was in his dreams. His dreams filled with that sugary smell and the figure of a woman whose face he could never quite make out.
When Stilgar pulled his mother aside Paul found himself alone in a room filled with stares. Some looked at him in awe, certain he was their long awaited Maud’Dib. Others looked at him with disdain, snickering to each other as they shamelessly pointed his way. But he honestly wasn’t concerned with any of it, because as he sat against the stony wall the scent was stronger than ever. He could almost taste it. His eyes searched the room, craving nothing more than to put a face to the smell that has nearly become his drug. But as he looked across the various faces surrounding him, no one stuck out to him.
But he was certain she was in this room, if not this one than the next. That warm saccharine scent was so close it was as if it were right next to him. That’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Either this person was stealthy or he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear them approaching but when his head whips around to see who it is he feels like his heart is going to burst. He hears the sound of bells ringing, a sound that he’s only heard in the churches back home. There standing over him is the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen, beautiful, perfect, sweet smelling, you.
“Hello, Paul Atreides, I’ve been waiting for you.” You smile down at him sweetly, your eyes filled with adoration. You aren’t dressed like the Fremen, no tans or browns or stillsuit to be found. A black silky dress adorns your form, fitting you perfectly. There’s a sheer midnight colored scarf wrapped around your head and shoulders, framing your face like the greatest work of art. You weren’t Fremen. You were a Bene Gesserit. Or at the very least, one in training.
“I think… I’ve been waiting for you too.” Paul’s voice is trance-like, looking up at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. The sound of the voice you’ve heard so many times in your slumber sending chills down your spine.
“Won’t you come with me? I have so much to tell you.” You look at him eagerly, offering him your danity ringed hand.
“I don’t know if I’m… supposed to…” He wants nothing more than to follow you. He would follow you into one of the suns of Arakkis if you asked him to. But he knew he was already on thin ice here and he feared what would happen to him and his mother if he were to upset anyone further.
“Do not bother with them, they will see the way. They will see what I’ve seen. Soon they will be cheering your name. Come.”
Paul scans the room, all eyes are on the two of you but when he looks back at your reassuring smile it’s like no one else matters, no one else exists. He takes your hand, letting you pull him along through hallways and far away from prying eyes. You drag him into a room that he assumes is yours, shutting the door behind you.
“Have you dreamt of me, Paul?” You sit on the bed and pull the scarf from your head, leaning back on your palms. You look so beautiful and the room is engulfed in your scent. It clings to every inch of the space and radiates off of you in waves.
“Yes… have you dreamt of me?” He takes an apprehensive step toward you, leaving a few feet of distance between the two of you. His green eyes feel as if they’re eating you alive and the scent of him causes slick to rush into your panties.
“Yes, every night since I presented as an omega my dreams have been filled with nothing but you. And more recently I’ve had visions of you in my waking hours. Will you tell me, Paul, about your dreams?” Your voice is as sweet as your scent. The way you’re leaning back on your hands makes the silk of your dress taunt against your breasts, your peaked nipples on display. The sight of you and the unmistakable smell of your slick makes his cock stir in his pants.
“They aren’t very vivid… mostly just flashes of you from behind, the sound of your voice, you were always saying ‘come to me Paul, for I am your destiny’ but your scent? That was so clear to me.” He takes another step forward, reaching a hand out as if he’s going to touch you but he lets it fall to his side, like he thought better of it. “I didn’t know it was possible to have a sense of smell in your dreams, but night after night I was surrounded by your scent as I slept.”
“I could smell you as well and I smelled you the minute you arrived. But my dreams are much more detailed than yours. There is much you do not know.” You approach him, closing the small distance between you. You rest your hands on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”
“I’d love nothing more, omega.” His thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek before traveling down to push some of your hair off your shoulder. He’s looking down at you expectantly, eagerly waiting for you to speak.
“Your dreams are correct, I am your destiny, and you are mine. I can feel the doubt in your heart, feel that you do not believe in yourself, do not believe that you are the Maud’Dib but you are, sweet Paul. For I have seen it.”
“Tell me? What have you seen?” He searches your eyes for signs of doubt or deceit but all he sees is truth there. Truth and the same adoring look you gave him when he first saw you.
“I’ve seen you learning the ways of the Fremen. I’ve seen you move them, rally them. I’ve seen a battle in which you win. I’ve seen you upon the emperor's throne, ruling over all, with me by your side, our child in my arms.” Your hands travel from his chest to take his face in your soft palms where you rub soothing circles on his temples.
“You saw… all of that?” Paul’s voice sounded exasperated, like what you’ve told him took all the breath from his lungs. He feels like it has. The finality and bluntness in which you speak tell him that your words are true.
“Yes, and more. There will be plenty of time to tell you about it all. But right now? I need you.” Right as the words leave your mouth a gush of slick drips down your legs. The presence of your mate triggering your heat weeks early.
“Tell me what you need, omega.” His voice drops an octave, taking on that deep alpha tone. It makes your heart speed up as another gush of slick drips from your core. You can’t help but think what it would be like if he used The Voice on you. Regularless of how absolutely blasphemous that would be considered.
“I need you, alpha. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up and lock your seed inside me with your knot.” Paul lets out a growl before reaching out, one hand gripping onto your hip to pull you flush against him and the other going to the back of your neck so he could connect his lips with your own.
The kiss starts off rough, eager, and hungry. But after a few moments his lips become tender against your own, his fingers threading through your hair as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You grant him access, immediately intertwining his tongue with your own, moaning at the taste of him.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, my moon. Ask for it and it is yours.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat where he runs the tip of his nose along your scent gland, inhaling deeply. “You wish for me to make love to you? Then I shall.”
Paul pushes the thin straps of your satin dress down your shoulders, kissing along the column of your throat, your collar bones, across your shoulders. You drop your arms so the straps fall the rest of the way down, the dress slipping down your body with them. Leaving you bare before him aside from the thin black material of your panties.
“Absolutely beautiful, angelic.” He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, your jaw, your neck, all the way down until his back knuckles are caressing the tender peaks of your nipples. He slides it across your chest, giving the other the same treatment before taking both of your tits in his hands. He gently squeezes them, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers, eliciting little whimpers from you.
“I heard your mother has been teaching you our ways. How is your training?” Paul raises an eyebrow at you, certainly wondering why you’re asking him about that at a time like this. “I only ask because I was wondering if you might want to practice on me.”
“Do you mean…?” He looks at you with wide eyes and you smirk, biting your lip.
“That’s exactly what I mean. I can feel your apprehension, don’t be afraid, I want this.” You lean into him, smashing his hands that are still on your chest between your bodies as you lean up to you run your nose along his scent gland, darting your tongue out to taste the sweat and spice that coat his skin. He grabs onto your shoulders, pushing you back so he can look in your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt. But as every other time he’s looked in your eyes tonight, he’s seen nothing but honesty there. Nothing but truth.
“Get on the bed on your back. Spread your legs.” Your body immediately reacts, doing exactly as he asks. Paul approaches the foot of the bed, standing between your spread legs. “That’s a good girl.”
His hands grip onto your knees, pushing your legs further apart, leaning down to shove his face between your legs. His nose runs along the soaked material of your panties, deeply inhaling the sugary sweet smell of your slick.
“Alpha, please.”
“You do not have to beg, my moon. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” Paul smirks up at you before lacing his fingers into the band of your panties and ripping them in half. He runs his tongue up your slit, circling it around your sensitive clit. The feeling of his hot wet mouth has you coming undone instantly, your slick gushing all over his chin and down his neck where it drips onto his shirt. He moans at the taste, sweeter than anything that’s ever graced his taste buds. “Yes, that’s my good little omega, give it all to me, let me drink in your sweet nectar.”
He dives back in, shoving his tongue as deep into your pussy as it can go, fucking you with it. His lips come up to wrap around your clit while his fingers circle your dripping entrance. He runs his fingers through your folds before shoving them knuckle deep inside of you.
“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum again, I’m gonna cum.” You move your hips against his face as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, your legs clamp around his head and your entire body shakes as your high washes over you. Paul pushes himself up from the bed, ridding himself of his clothes before climbing back over to you, situating himself on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. His hard cock is resting against your lower stomach, the tip leaking precum onto your skin.
“I want to taste you too.” You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. You didn’t even care that the ache between your legs wouldn’t be satiated until he was inside you, you needed to taste him.
“Next time. I need to be inside you now.” It comes out a soft whisper, his forehead resting against your own. He reaches between your bodies, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. He connects his lips with your own, kissing you passionately as he begins to push inside you. You both moan as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slipping your tongue into his mouth as his thrusts begin to pick up.
“Mmm you feel amazing, my love, my lord, my emperor.” Paul looks into your eyes as he continues to fuck you at a linguid pace, rolling his hips against your own as he pushes himself as deep inside you as possible.
“My moon, my destiny.” He picks up the pace, pushing up on his knees and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your tits jiggle with every thrust, the fucked out love sick gaze that you send his way makes his skin even hotter.
“I want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum. Put a pup in me. So we can fulfill our prophecy.” Paul snakes a hand between the two of you, connecting his thumb with your clit so he can rub circles on it in time with his thrusts.
“Open your mouth.” The sound of him using The Voice makes your walls clench around him, your jaw dropping open at his command. He leans down, letting the spit that had collected in his mouth drip down into your tongue. “Swallow it.”
You swallow with an audible gulp. Your heart warming at the gesture that anywhere else would be considered lewd but here on Arakkis to share one’s sacred spit with another was a grand gesture of love.
“Thank you, my love. You taste better than the finest feast. I cannot wait to know what your cum tastes like.” Paul groans at that, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. His thrusts start to grow sloppy but he refuses to finish before you do.
“Cum for me.” As soon as the words leave his mouth your walls are convulsing around him, sucking him as your slick soaks his cock.
“Mark me, Paul. Sink your teeth into my flesh and bind us together as we are meant to be.” You tug on his arms, pulling his upper half so it’s draped over you, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts become slow and deep again, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you.
“But Stilgar said…” He groans, using every ounce of strength in his body to not just sink his teeth into your soft neck.
“I do not care what Stilgar said. This is bigger than him. Bigger than all of them. Mark me.” His mouth moves before his mind can process what’s happening, his teeth sinking deep into your flesh, breaking the skin. The feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt. Electricity washes through your body, the most world altering orgasm of your life wracks through you, and you feel like your soul leaves you, connecting with Paul’s before returning to your earthly vessel. He pushes his hips flush against yours, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.
“Oh fucking shit.” Paul groans, pulling his mouth from your neck, gliding his tongue over the indents of his teeth. He leans back to look at you, eyes roaming your face. His knot swells inside of you and a look of pain crosses your features before turning into one of ecstasy. Loud moans leave your lips as your final orgasm of the night washes over you. Paul leans down, connecting his lips with yours, kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do. Though it was far from it.
“I hope you are not upset with me, Maud’Dib.” You take his face in your hands, running the top of your nose along his cheek.
“I don’t think I could ever be upset with you, my love. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on when you used The Voice on me…” he chuckles, resting his forehead against your own. “I am so happy I finally found you…”
“You have me now, until the day I take my last breath I will belong to you, Paul Atreides. Together, we will accomplish great things.”
#paul atreides#paul atreides x reader#paul atreides x you#paul atredies smut#paul atreides x fem!reader#paul atreides fanfic#Paul atreides one shot#timothee chalamet fanfiction#timothee x reader#timothee chalamet x reader#dune smut#dune fanfic#dune fanfiction
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I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)
yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk
Anyways that's all 💋
we can’t be friends
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing
a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt
i hope you enjoy
i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.
of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.
for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.
i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.
but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.
i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?
so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.
i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.
sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.
i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.
i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.
i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.
we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.
“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.
his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.
“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.
“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”
“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.
“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.
“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”
he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.
“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”
“i just can’t be friends with you”
“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.
“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”
“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.
“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”
“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.
“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.
“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.
my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.
“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.
“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.
i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”
he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.
i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”
he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.
the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.
“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”
“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”
chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.
“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.
one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.
he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.
this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.
but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.
“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.
“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.
he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.
i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.
i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.
“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.
he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.
he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.
“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.
“you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.
he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.
his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.
he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.
“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.
“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.
“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.
i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.
chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.
“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.
“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.
“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.
“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.
finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.
he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.
my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.
the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.
the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.
my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.
there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.
he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.
he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.
“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.
“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.
“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.
“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.
“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.
“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.
“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.
“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.
“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.
“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.
“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.
“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.
the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.
“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.
“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.
“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.
“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”
wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭
masterlist
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#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris x reader#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fic#christopher sturniolo fic#sturniolos#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fic
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the long awaited spanking fic
Content warnings: dom/sub dynamics, heavy spanking
I cannot get the brain rot for this out of my head. I was going to write a full fic for it first that includeded subspace but imma just do a spanking blurb for now to free myself from the thoughts… so basically stay tuned for this to be expanded
You did the thing that pisses off Carmy the most. You talked back to him during service in front of everyone. It was over something stupid, really, but your stubbornness got the best of you. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. The look on Carmen’s face was enough to shut you up for the rest of the night.
The car ride home is silent, dead silent. Carmy hasn’t said a word to you at all, and you don’t dare try and talk to him. You’re well aware you screwed up. You just aren’t sure what he’s going to do with you.
Carmy remains wordless as he parks the car in front of his apartment and heads to his door. You follow quickly behind him, watching as he digs in his pocket for his keys. Once he gets the door open, he walks straight to the couch to sit down, expecting you to close the door and lock up for him.
As soon as Carmy hears the lock click, he speaks in a firm, unwavering tone from where he sits on the couch. “Take off your clothes.”
His tone sends chills down your spine. He’s really fucking pissed. You walk towards him, standing right in front of the couch. “Carm, I’m—“ you begin to apologize, but Carmen doesn’t let you finish talking.
“I’m not going to repeat myself. Take them off. Now.”
“Y-yes, sir.” You remove your clothes as fast as you possibly can, not wanting to make him wait. You watch as Carmy sits up straight on the couch, slightly parting his knees.
“Bend over my lap,” he commands. Your legs move quickly as you bend over on his lap with your eyes facing the ground. His left hand hooks around your waist to steady you. His right hand rests right above your ass, lightly soothing the skin. “You were bad today. Talked back to me in front of everyone.”
“I’m sorry, Carmy. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fucking obvious you weren’t thinking. How can I expect those people to listen to me when my own girlfriend won’t do what I ask of her? You know better than that. I’ve taught you better.”
“It’ll never happen again. I promise.”
“Oh, I’ll make sure of that. You’re going to learn your lesson. I’m giving you fifteen spanks.”
“Fifteen?” you audibly gasp at the number. He has never punished you with so many spanks. The max before had always been less than ten.
“And you’re going to count every single one of them. If you mess up, I’ll add another one. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir. I understand.” Not even wasting a second, Carmy’s hand strikes your ass. He’s not starting off easy. “Shit! O-one.” The next two spanks come one after another, hitting at different spots. Your body jolts in his grasp from the impact of each hit. “Two. Three.”
Carmy doesn’t give you time to think in between the strikes of his hand. Each one comes down harder than the one before it. The only sounds in the room are your strangled whines and the sound of his hand against your ass. You manage to count pretty well at first, but it gets harder as the heat between your legs increases.
“Are you getting wet right now?” He says before spanking you once more.
“t-ten.” It’s all you can say. Stringing together a sentence seems impossible.
“Are you already so stupid you can’t count and answer my question?” Carmy’s hand grips your raw skin as he spreads your legs to see for himself. He scoffs when he sees the wetness pooling between your legs, starting to make a wet spot on his pants. “You’re fucking dripping. You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Even my hands spanking you turns you on.”
He hits your ass twice in quick succession in the exact same spot. You cry out from the impact. Your skin is throbbing. “Eleven— Carm, please.” You beg, not quite sure what you’re asking.
“That was twelve. I guess you can’t even count right anymore. Now, I’m going up to sixteen.”
You tremble in his lap, holding onto his legs with a death grip. At this point, he’s lightened up on the force behind his hand. Carmy also directs some of the strikes on your upper thigh to give your ass a break. It’s completely raw from the spankings, red and pulsing with heat. You’re barely holding on when he delivers the last strike.
“S-s-sixteen—“ you gasp. Tears run down your cheeks as Carmy rubs the skin of your upper back.
“You did good, baby. You took that so well. Such a good girl. You just needed a little punishment to remind you who you listen to, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir. I’m so s-sorry Carm. I didn’t mean to make you so mad,” you speak through sobs. “I-I shouldn’t have done that I’m so sorry—“
“Shhh—baby. Calm down. I’m not mad at you anymore. You made a mistake and got punished for it. It’s all okay now. You don’t have to apologize again. I know you didn’t mean to upset me. Let me help you sit up, yeah? Need to see your face.”
With Carmy’s help, you sit up in his lap to face him. His hands cup your face, wiping the tears away with this thumbs. You get emotional in times like this, especially when Carmy looks at you with such adoration like he is right now. “I love you, Carm.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Can I take care of you now? I wanna make it all feel better.”
“Please. P-please. Need it,” you beg, feeling the his hard cock underneath you.
“I’ve gotcha. I’ll take care of you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yeah im sorry for leaving this here but i gotta have room to expand on this idea later. Hehehe so expect a more full length one shot with all of this once again and more soon!!
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear#the bear fanfiction#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#the bear smut
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Pulse
Sohyun X Xinyu
P.S: I'm trying a new style of writing here.
- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -
There's something calm and comforting about the crowded coffeeshop. The hissing of the espresso machine, the bustle of human conversation, the clinking of ceramic cups - they all seem to blend together to create a new yet totally familiar world. That's the reason I've come here. To be swallowed by this background noise and extract myself from reality if just for a moment.
I sit in my usual corner, my elbow against a cup of cappucino which has long since gone cold and a textbook opened but largely ignored. I have read the same line for the last thirty minutes but none of it seems to stick. I'm too distracted by the noise and my own thoughts, adrift in this place.
University is supposed to be a place where you "find yourself" but I seem to have lost my sense of direction as soon as I step my foot here. Everyone around me seems so sure of what they are doing, raised chests and energetic steps. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to keep my head down, pretending like I belong while I don't even know who I am yet.
Outside, the leaves are just starting to turn yellow - the afternoon light casting a lazy red glow on them. It's the start of a new season though I barely feel like anything have changed in this new life I'm settling into. It's just a struggle to fit in from day to day.
I bring my lips to the rim of my cofee cup, grmiacing as the bitter taste washes over me. It doesn't come as a surprise. The only reason people come here is for the atmosphere - to mingle and jingle . The cofee is just a necessity to stay.
I glance at the moving world from my seat near the window. A steady flow of students rush past the platfrom on the otherside, their laughter echoing through the glass. It's as if they know a secret I have yet to understand.
I pull the sleeve of my sweater over my knuckles, retreating into the soft fabric. Nearby, my phone buzzes with a notification from a group chat that I never have been a part of. I don't bother to check and it becomes one of the many sounds that fills the place.
I used to think university would be different - a total contrast to my mundane high school life. That I'd step into the place and everything will click into place. Like the rest of my life have been a prelude to this. But here I am. Already chickening out in the first week.
I chug down the remainder of my cold coffee, shove my books into the bag and was about to leave when a burst of cool air sweeps through the place, followed by the jingle of the bell above the door. And I happen to be one of those people who instictively gawk at the newcomer.
There she is, waltzing into the room like she owns it. The energy of the outside world seems to radiate from her body. There's nothing loud or brash about her but she draws attention anyway - an easy confidence that ripples through the place. She brushes a stray strand of hair our of her face, her eyes crinkling with amusement.
She stands out naturally,moving as if she's utterly home in her skin, in this place. It's the kind of self-insurance that seems totally foregin to me. I can't even imagine what it's like to be in her shoes. Not like I will have a chance. She's everything I'm not.
Her hair is slightly tousel, falling in loose waves that looks almost intentional. She's wearing a plain white shirt, its crispiness a total contrast to her slouch jeans.
She orders a cofee - espresso, no sugar- and while she waits, she cracks a joke at the waiteress, painting her cheeks red. All this time, my eyes linger on her with a strange sort of fascination, watching like she's the only form of enteratinment I have had in a long time. And it's true in a way.
She takes the plastic cup and the change from the waiteress with a smile. She turns and that's when the trouble starts. I have expected her to leave as swiftly as she has come. Someone like her probably have more important businesses than slothing around.
Her eyes dart around the café and it takes me a moment to realize she's looking for a seat. So she's staying. But luck doesn't seem to be on her side today beacaue every single seat has been occupied. Well, except..
"Hey" she says, and it's casual, like we have been friends forever. "Mind if I sit there?"
She's gesturing at the seat across from mine, which I have strategically left empty to create a distance between me and everything else. I hesistate a tad bit too long before I response.
"Sure" I mumble, nodding towards the chair.
She sits, sliding the cup of coffee on the table with a soft thud. I have expected her to pull out a phone or do anything a stranger sharing a table with another stranger would do. But instead, she leans back and scans the room before her eyes come to rest on me.
"I have seen you before" she speaks, offering a slight smile as if she can read my thoughts.
I blink, caught off-guard. No 'hello' s. No 'hi' s. Straight to the point.
"Have you?" I say, sounding awfully stiff.
"Yeah. You have been in the same corner for the last week. You come here a lot?" She sips her coffee, eyes still on me.
I shrug. "Not always. But yeah. It's quiet"
She raised an eyebrow, glancing around the packed café. "Quiet?" she repeats, half laughing. "Compared to the dining hall, perhaps"
Just then, I realize how rudiculous I must sound. "Well, not today" I admit, lowering my gaze back to the books. "But usually"
She laughs again, but not mockingly so. "I get where you are coming from. Sometimes, it's good to be alone even though you are not truly alone" She couldn't have worded it better.
"Exactly" I say, nodding slowly.
A brief silent passes between us. She sips from her cup again. If the cappucino here is strong, I can't imagine what espresso would taste like. But she shows no sign of distaste.
"So, what do you study?" she asks, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup.
"Literature" I answer, shifting in my seat. For some reason, talking about my major always make me feel like I'm giving something away. Like I'm exposing myself.
"Ahhh Literature" She repeats the word, as if she's trying to decipher its meaning. "That must be....intense. Lots of complicated story about lots of different stuffs"
I nod, still unsure where she's headed. "I guess so. It's more about trying to understand them through their words. Deep fry your brain sometimes"
She huffs. "I can imagine. That's why I try to understand them through their heads, it's less exhausting that way. I'm in psych"
That makes sense. She has this way of speaking, as if she knows what the other party will say before they even open their mouths. But at the same time, respecting their boundaries.
I'm still trying to think of a valid response when she lifts her cup and stare at the remaining coffee like she's studying it. Then her gaze lifts back to me, eyes bright.
"You know, espresso reminds me of people"
I blink, surprised at the strange comparison. "Espresso? Why?"
She beams, leaning in. "Espresso's small right? Concentrated. If you take a sip, there's this rush - sharp and intense. It hits you so intensely that if you are not prepared, it can be overwhelming"
She takes a sip, as if giving me time to register her words. "But if you take it in bit by bit, the taste changes. The bitterness mellows out and you can feel each layer of richness underneath"
I stare at her, my tired brain struggling to understand what she's implying. Why espresso, out of all things?
She leans back and continues. "People are like that. Emotions, life, they come at you in the most unexpected times - swift, chaotic. Sometimes it can be too much to handle. But if you give it some times, let it breathe, you start to see the little parts that makes it up. That's when you start to discover yourself"
I can't help but smile. "You have thought a lot about this, haven't you?"
She shrugs. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just obsessed with espresso"
"Not the one here, I hope"
She smiles, instantly getting what I'm implying. It seems she's a regular customer too. "You gotta work with what you have. But you get the point"
"So....people are like espresso? Is that why you study them?" I question as she finishes up the last few drops of her coffee. This girl really likes espresso.
"Exactly" she snaps. I'm not sure if she's joking here. "It has always been my dream to do a thesis on espresso and emotions"
"Are you....?" I drift off and she bursts into laughter.
I feel the slightest hint of joy, like by asking that stupid question, I have contributed to her amusement in some way.
"Serious? No way. I'm not risking my degree for my unhealthy addiction. The last person I explained this to leave the table as soon as I'm done"
"Well, I'm still here"
Does it sound too cheesy?
"I can see that" She glances at the clock on the wall, frowning slightly. "I should get going. I have a class to prepared for"
I nod, feeling that familiar twist that comes with endings. "Right. Of course"
She stands, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. "It was nice talking to you" she says, her voice warm. "You can call me Sohyun"
"Xinyu" I reply. It sounds so much easier to say my name now.
"Xinyu" She lets the word roll off her tongue. "I like it"
"Thanks" She's already walking to the door when I response.
With one last glance, she re-enters the reality outside of this comforting bubble. I feel a strange sense of anticipation, like the conversation I just had have dropped some hint to solve this puzzle called life.
Sohyun and Espresso and People.
How peculiar.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
The walk back across the campus was pleasant. The scene that welcomes me when I enter my room is not.
As I enter, I'm greeted by the familiar chaos of Yooyeon's world - clothes draped over the chair, a half eaten bag of snacks spilling out on the desk and music playing softly in the background. The mess have become such an essential part of the space that without it, you doubt you will recognize the room.
Yooyeon looks up from her bed, where she's lounging with her phone. She's dressed causual with a twist as usual - an oversized grey t-shrit with the words "You Shall Not Pass" emblazoned across the front and swetpants of the same color. As soon as she notices me, an infectious grin spreads across her face
"Xinyu! You are back!" She exclaims, eyes bright. "Did you finally make a friend or are you still on a first name basis with the library?"
"Ha ha. Very funny" I retort sarcastically as I shove my bag on the bed. "But yeah. I guess so"
She immediately sits up, her attention solely on me. "Wait, what? For real?"
I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. That's the thing about Yooyeon. It's like she has her own respirator of dopamine. Always on her feet. Not a hint of worry in those blue eyes.
"Her name's Sohyun. We met at the café" I answer, keeping my tone casual. One wrong octave and Yooyeon would immediately detect it.
"Ooooh, a café conversation, huh? Sounds like the opening to a great novel" She laughs, flopping back down to her bed. "What did you two talk about?"
I shrug, though I have anticipated the question. "Just espresso and....people"
Yooyeon grins even wider. "Don't tell me you spill your heart out. Cuz that would be really really-"
"It's nothing like that" I quickly interrupt. "It was just small talk. She's really easy to talk to"
"Easy is good. You need easy" Yooyeon bounces off her bed and start rummaging through her cupboard box of numerous books and posters. It has been a week and she still hasn't bothered to arrange her stuffs.
Not a moment sooner, she pulls out two bright blue mugs. "We should celebrate your burgeoning social life. I have got hot chocolate mix somewhere"
I roll my eyes. "You are impossible"
"Impossibly fun" Yooyeon winks as she pours the hot chocolate mix into the mugs and adds some hot water, the steam curling up. "You are on your way to becoming a social butterfly. Next thing you know, you will be hosting literary salons"
"Sure. After I finish this semester's readings" I reply lightly though the idea terrifies me.
Yooyeon hands me the steaming mug with a triumphant grin. "Here's to new friends and the magic of coffee! If you ever need a social coach to take you on this emotional espresso journey, I'm always available"
I take the mug from her, the warmth of it seeping into my palms. "No thanks"
"Aww come on. I can be the Ron to your Harry. Or the Peeta to your Katniss. Wait, nevermind. That's not a good idea" Yooyeon says, never failing to showcase her obsession with fiction. If Sohyun wants to do a thesis on espresso, Yooyeon would probably make one on Hunger Games. But her dream is closer to being a reality, given how she's in media studies.
"Isn't that the guy....who got like brainwashed or something?" I try to recall the memoies of the movie from time immemorial.
"Yeah. Poor Peeta..." Yooyeon says with a dreamy tone before she brings the mug to her lips.
"Fuck! It's hot" She yelps, immediately recoiling and almost spilling the hot drink.
"Who? Peeta?" I ask.
"No. The hot chocolate. Wait, no. I mean yes. Peeta, not this god awful drink" Yooyeon says while she furiously fans her mouth.
I can't help the chuckle that escape my lips. "I have always liked that Gale guy better"
Yooyeon's eyesbrow knit at my remark. And I already know a debate is headed my way.
"For starters,..."
And so it begins. I participate anyway although I know Yooyeon would win in the end as she always does. I'm not geeky enough for this.
But it doesn't matter. Because she's the only friend I have for now. Debating on fictional man not to be the odd one out doesn't seem so bad of a trade.
Would Sohyun like Gale better than Peeta?
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
I'm up early the next morning. The kind of early that makes the world feels like it's still deciding whether or not it should go back to sleep. I look at the bedside clock - 5:55 am. Ha. I beat the alarm today.
Soft gray light shines through a hatch between the curtains, the world outside still enshrouded in the morning mist. All is quiet except for the occasional footsteps and soft snores of Yooyeon , whose face is half buried in the pillow. I smile, knowing she won't be up for at least an hour. The girl's have been up all night finishing an assignment.
I shiver slightly as the cool air grazes my skin when I pull the covers off. The mornings are getting colder, the first hints of autumn sneaking in. And it means I will have a harder time exiting the warm embrace of my sheets.
The chill in the air clings to me as I head towards the common bathroom. The hallways are empty at this time of the day. Not much early risers here. This building, Bradford Hall, is one of the older dorms on the campus. The floors creak with each step I take and the white paint on the wall have faded with age. For no reason, the place indulges a sense of legacy in me. Like I'm a part of something greater. Maybe it's the smell of chamomile that always hangs in the air.
The walk to the bathroom doesn't take long since my room's on the first floor. There's no burden of stairways. It takes five minutes tops for me to clean up - brush my teeth, wash my face and a couple arrangement of my messy hair that will stay the same way after. I still don't understand how some people manage to spend hours in the bathroom. Making yourself presentable shouldn't be that hard.
When I come back to the room, Yooyeon has tossed over, almost draping off the bed and murmuring something that sounds like a spell. She might be visiting middle-earth, Hogwarts and god knows where.
I cross over to my side of the room, the territory determined by an imaginary line Yooyeon have drawn on the first day. The room is barely big enough for two twin beds, a couple desks and a shared closet. My space is plain, simple. Almost empty except for the small lamp and the stack of books. It works fine by me.
Yooyeon's, however, is a total contrast. Her walls are covered with posters of whatever fictional book or movie you cam name. Not to mention the figurines that line her desk. "They give me motivation" Yooyeon has said. In my opinion, I wouldn't want an inch tall Darth Vader monitoring me all night. I bet Yooyeon would consider that 'hot' too.
I rummage through my closet without any initial dress code in mind. There isn't a need to worry. People wouldn't be up yet. There's no one to impress. I decide to go simple pulling on a bright blue sweater over my shirt and pulling on a pair of jeans. I slip on my worn-out sneakers, their familiar creaks greeting me. After a glance in the mirror, I decide to let my loose locks fall freely. I grab my bag and leave, careful not to wake Yooyeon, who's on the brink of falling off the bed.
The campus seems almost unrecognizable at this time of the day - the morning light bathing it in a warm glow that makes everything looks like it belongs to a painting. The air is still, undisturbed by the usual hustle of students. I take a deep breath as I make my way down the brick path.
The clues of autumn are scattered here and there - the air crisp and the leaves tinged with green and yellow like they haven't decided their favorite color yet. To my left, the towering main library roses like a cathedral, fog clinging to its ebony walls. The arched windows reflecting the sun rays.
Further down, the old lecture halls rise up on either sides of the path. They look like relics from the ancient past, a time unbeknownst. The ivy covered walls adding into its timelessness.
They weren't joking about this place being 'old'.
Ahead, the dining hall comes into view, no less younger than its confidants. With the dark wood beams and the high ceiling, it looks almost like a castle. The stone steps leading to the entrance are worn smooth by countless steps and the wooden doors, though thoroughly polished, creaks slightly as I push them open.
Inside, the place is most empty, save for a couple students scattered around. The smell of coffee and pastries fill the air, comforting in a way that makes me want to stay for hours. I grab a tray, throws on a couple of sandwiches and a glass of juice. My morning appetite have never been impressive.
I takes my usual place near one of the stained glass windows, spots of light showering on the table. I love this place. It's quiet and peaceful. Maybe except when Yooyeon's accompanying me.
I'm haflway through a cheese sandwich when the door swing opens.
Sohyun.
She walks in with a group of friends, at least five of them, talking and laughing. Their energy seemingly announcing they belong here.
Sohyun's dressed in almost the same way at our first meeting - a loose white shirt and cargos. And she strides across the hall with the same confidence from that day.
I didn't mean to stare but my eyes follow her, weaving through tables with her friends trailed behind. Like maybe our encounter was an interlude to something more.
I know I should go back to my sandwhich but when the soul craves, the body has to suffice. She turns my way just for a split second and without thinking, I give her a small smile. It's nothing special, really - just a 'Hey. I remember you from yesterday' kind of smile.
But Sohyun's eyes sweep over me as if I'm not even there and soon, she's swept up with her friends again, laughing at something they said.
It stings. Though it has no reason to. It's like a tiny blow that leaves you off-balance but not strong enough to knock you off your feet. Before I even realize it, my lips have pursed into a tight line and I'm already staring down at the unfinished plate of sandwiches. Maybe, yesterday was just a fever dream.
I didn't expect much, really. A nod, a wave, a smile - a sign of acknowledgement. Anything. I tell myself not to care. It's rudiculous to yearn for approval from someone you shared a coffee table with. But I can't help the cold weight settling in my chest.
I glance up at her again. She's still at the counter, taking her sweet time choosing her breakfast. The way she holds herself is so natural, like she belongs anywhere she goes. I envy that about her. I have always been needed to prove to earn a place in society while she just waltz through everything without a care.
Why is it bothering me so much?
Maybe I should be grateful for her brief cameo in my life. Or maybe it would have been better if we never met. Then she will just be another student who comes to eat breakfast. Not Sohyun.
But now, it's infecting me.
I take a sip of my orange juice, focusing on the cold liquid that wash down my throat. It's nothing, I tell myself. It's jst a stupid plea for attention. It doesn't matter. I have always been good at finding meanings in small thing but sometimes, small things are just......small. There's no more meaning to them than what they are.
Maybe that's all this is.
I watch her from the corner of my eyes as she settles down at a table with her friends, her laughter ringing out across the hall again. And for a momet, I almost want to laugh. Not because anything is funny but beacause how easily she moves through the world, through life.
And how easily she has forgotten me.
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Over the next week, autumn have crept in like a quiet exhale. The trees have turned amber and yellow, their leaves falling in slow spiral onto tbe brick paths. The air has become sharp enough to sting my skin when I go out. It's the season of change, like people say. But this year, there's something unsettling about the sudden shift. Like I'm not ready for new beginnings.
Most of my time is spent surrounded by books and notes. Despite the constant pressure, it's nice to finally have a rhythm to life again. The rhythm that my fear of rejection have indulged. I have recovered quick and Sohyun has faded into nothing but another human whose life happen to cross ways with mine.
It's nothing to dwell on.
I sit at my desk, my table lamp casting a faint glow on the pages of 'Jane Eyre'. The word file opened on my laptop is still in the same state as it has been in the last hour - celan and empty. The syllables for the essay due tonight doesn't seem to be manifesting anytime soon.
I tap my fingers idly on the edge of the desk, glancing at the clock. It's nearly midnight now. The campus has gone still save for the ocassional laughter and footsteps of latecomers from the corridor. Peaceful. Quiet. But still not helping me collect my scattered thoughts.
I'm about to give up for the night and go to bed when the door suddenly flies open with a buest of energy and Yooyeon, in all her chaotic glory, stumbles into the room. She's panting, yet she has this wide grin plastered on her face.
I look up from my desk, startled by the sudden enteance. "Hey"
"Hey" she says, plopping down on the bed. "Guess what?"
I raise an eyebrow, bracing myself for whatever dramatic new she has to deliver. "What?"
"Yeonjun wants me to meet him at one of those fancy clubs. And he asked me to bring a friend" She grins even wider. "Guess who that friend's gonna be"
I blink. "Not me"
Yooyeons gives me a look, the kind that says she's not giving up until I give in. "Yes, you. Come on, Xinyu. You have been locked up here for so long. You need to get out"
"I've been studying" It's not enitirely a lie but it's not the truth either.
But Yooyeon's having none of it. "Studying, hiding, same difference. You are coming with me. Plus, it will be fun. Who know? Maybe you will even find a cute boy" She winks, then whispers. "Or a girl"
I'm not quick enough to surpress the blush that creeps up my cheek. "Yooyeon!"
"What? Don't tell me you still can't forget Ms. Espresso"
"This has nothing to do with her" To my surprise, my voice comes out shrill. "I'm just-"
"Blah blah blah. More excuses" Yooyeon cuts me off. "Come on, Xinyu. You will be doing me a huge favour. Yeonjun thinks I have no friends"
"You do have friends"
"Yeah. But no one would be available this late. And I'd rather go with you. You are....less dramatic"
Despite myself, I can't help but chuckle. "You mean 'naive' "
She shrugs, throwing a pillow at me. "You know what I mean. I don't need to worry about you throwing up or passing out or sleeping with the wrong guy"
"You just wants a wingwoman who will behave"
"Exactly" Yooyeon snaps. "So, what do you say? We'll go meet Yeonjun, hangs out for a bit. Then, we can come back to your books if you want"
I glance at my laptop, ths text cursor blinking in and out of existence as if reminding me of the marks soon to be lost. It's tempting to stay here but Yooyeon's right. Perhaps, I can take a breather just this once.
I sigh, pushing my chair back. "Fine. But don't expect me to drag your drunk ass back here"
Yooyeon lets out a triumphant squeal, practically bouncing off the bed. "Yes! You won't regret it"
She's already heading to the door when I throw a sweater over my shoulder. Yooyeon's dressed in her usual fit - jeans and a Lord of the Rings shirt, the one that says "You shalll not pass".
"Seriously? You are wearing that shirt again?" I ask, eyeing her.
Yooyeon shrinks away in mock offense. "Excuse me? Have some respect for the classics. Everybody loves Gandalf"
I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Let's go"
As soon as we step out of the building, we are hit by the cool night air. The campus is fast asleep, the street lamps casting long shadows across the brick paths. It feels peaceful, almost serene.
Yooyeon immediately starts chattering about this new Draco-Harry fiction, her hands waving animatedly as she speaks. I listen, half-distracted, my thoughts finding their way back to a topic unexplored for some times - Sohyun.
Maybe that morning in the dinining hall doesn't mean anything. It's jut a moment, and moments pass.
Despite the countless convincements, a part of me still wonders. What if she had smiled back? What if things have happened differently?
"Earth to Xinyu. Helloooooo" Yooyeon's voice break through my thoughts and I realize she has been talking to me this whole time.
"Sorry" I mumble, recomposing myself. "What were you saying?"
"I said, what do you think of Yeonjun?"
"He seems...nice" I answer, though I barely remember the guy.
Yooyeon grins, clearly pleased. "I know, right? He's the sweetest. And he's really into Harry Potter too, so that's a bonus"
I hum in agreement. Yooyeon's world seems so simple - vibrant, full of energy. Meanwhile, mine feels like the polar opposite. I'm always overthinking, second-guessing.
"Hey" Yooyeon nudges me with her elbow. "You are being all broody again. Stop it. We are going to have fun"
"Yeah, okay" I say, offering her a small smile.
I breath in the autumn air, hoping that mayb, I can stop cllinging onto a loose thread.
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The club is a short walk off campus, tucked into a narrow street line with food trucks and cafés that come alive at night. As me and Yooyeon approach, the distant music grows louder, the rhythmic bass reverberating beneath our feet.
A small line of people snaked out of the entrance, marked by a neon sign displaying its name "The Tavern". The building itself is unassuming, with dark brick walls and small windows dimly lit from the inside.
When we step in, the place opens into a large space with low lighting. The bar run along one side while the rest of the room is a dance floor, dotted with tables around the edge. The air is buzzing with music and energy - people pressed close together, shouting whatever on their mind over the DJ's beat. It's an enitrely different world from the quiet, orderly campus.
"There he is!" Yooyeon yells over the music, wavibg wildly at someone near the bar. I follow her gaze and find a guy leaning against the counter, already grinning like a madman. Yeonjun. I recognize him from the first (and the only) time Yooyeon introduced me. He seems to reflect Yooyeon's restless vigour - a match made in heaven (or Hogwarts, whatever).
"Yeonjun. You remember Xinyu, right?" she says, taking her place next to him. He offers me a smile, not too over the top, but friendly enough. "The one who's always drowning in books?"
I give him an awkward wave. "Hey"
"Nice to meet you again" He says, his voice smooth. "Yooyeon's always talking about you"
"Only good things, I hope"
He laughs. "All good. Don't worry"
Yooyeon reaches for Yeonjun's half-finished shot of whiskey on the counter but get stopped by a firm grip on her wrist.
"Eh eh eh. You are ordering your own drink, miss"
Yooyeon pouts at Yeonjun's remark. "You don't even want to share a drink with your girlfriend?"
"You see. The reason it's called a 'shot' is that it's meant to be savoured by a single individual" Yeonjun's voice has gone unsettlingly serious.
"And they say Xinyu's the smart one" Yooyeon says, punching his arm.
"And they say men are the agressors" Yeonjun retorts. "How do you even deal with this witch, Xinyu?"
Before I can think of anything to say, Yooyeon grabs his arm. "Before I cast a casual Crucio on your sorry ass, we should get to the dance floor"
Yeonjun didn't argue with that. The banter is just their way of communicating. "Xinyu, you should come too" he invites.
"Uh.....no. I'm good. You two go ahead"
"Are you sure?" Yooyeon asks, despite knowing nothing can budge me. "It wil be fun, I promise"
I shake my head, smiling. "I will pass. I think I will just....get a drink"
Yooyeon is silent for a moment, then she's off, dragging Yeonjun into the sea of bodies. I watch them disappear, Yooyeon's laughter echoing back, carefree and loud, like she's exactly where she belongs.
Me, though? Not so much. So, I head to the bar,sliding onto one of the stools and order a Coke. There's no need for anything stronger. I can barely tolerate anything that have the slightest bit of alcohol and that's speaking from experience. The bartender barely looks at me as he hands it over, already moving on to his next order.
I take a sip and glance around. The place is packed, bodies moving in rhythm, couples tangled up in each other and some loners who are just swaying, lost in the music. It's loud, chaotic and I feel totally out of place. It's not that I don't want to have fun - I just don't know how to in place like this. Maybe my definition of 'fun' is different from everyone here.
I lean back against the bar and take another sip. The girls here are all glitter and glamour - tight dresses, high heels and bold colors, shimmering under the disco light. Like the night is made for them.
And then there's me in my oversized sweater and faded jeans. My white sneakers seems an imposter to their sleek heels. I have been so eager to get out of my comfort zone for once that I forget to do the necessary preparations.
I search for Yooyeon's familiar face in the crowd, but she's lost in the restless horde, probably twirling around with Yeonjun. I'm happy for her but all I feel is...detached. It's pathetic. I know. I'm too old not to know my constant fear of being the outsider, of being denied.
I'm halfway through my coke when I feel someone slide into the seat next to me, the barstool creaking under the weight. I didn't look up, hoping that it's just another stranger who comes to mind their own business. But then, he clears his throat, loud enugh for me not to ignore.
"Hey" a voice rings out, smooth but with a cocky edge.
I glanced over and there he is - perfect hair, gleaming jacket and a gold chain around hid neck. I might not be the best at socializing but I recognize the type immediately - the kind that's used to getting everything he wants. I can see it from his look, like he spends too much time in front of the mirror. He gives me a lazy smile, the one that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Come here often?" He ask, leaning a bit too close. His cologne is strong and mixed with the sour stench of his breath, it's impossible not to flinch
"No" I say flatly, taking a sip of my coke.
"That's a shame. You should. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be sitting alone"
I bristle at that, the compliment feeling more like an insult. "I'm not really into clubs" I reply, my lazy tone desperately showing my lack of interest.
He either doesn't know or care. Instead, he leans closer, his elbow casually resting on the bar next to me. "You just haven't found the right sort of people. I could show you a good time, you know"
I swallow a sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm fine, thanks"
But he only smiles wider, as if my rejection is part of a game he's used to playing. "You sure? Cuz I don't see anyone with you here. How about I buy you another drink? Something better than coke"
"No, really. I'm good" I say, more firmly this time, hoping he will get the message. But the bastard won't take his eyes off me.
"You are playing hard to get, huh?" He tilts his head. "You wouldn't believe how many girls like you I have seen. Acting all tough, only to end up in my bed at the end"
That did the job for me. I straighten up in my seat. "Can you just leave me alone?"
"Oh, come one. I'm just-"
"Fuck off, Taeil"
A voice cuts through the tension and I instinctively turn my head toward the source. Sohyun stands a few feet away, arms folded. Her shirt has been tucked into her dark jeans, casual but sharp. Her eyes narrow onto the guy who is now known as Taeil, as if she's used to seeing the scene plays out.
Taeil straighten up, his smile wavering. "Relax. We are just talking"
"No, you are not" Sohyun steps closer, gaze hard and unblinking. "Here's what's gonna happen. You are going to walk away and leave her alone.
Taeil's smirk returns but it's not so sure as before. "And what exactly are you going to do if I don't?"
Sohyun's lips curve into a smile, one colder than any I have seen from her. She pulls out her phone, holding it up for him to see. "Let's see. I don't think your parents will be so happy to see their son acting like a druggie. Plus, it wouldn't be good for either you or your parents if the video end up in the wrong hands"
All the color drain out if Taeil's face, leaving him gaping. "You are blaffing" He protests, though the panic is clear as day in his voice.
"You know I'm not" Sohyun smiles like a predator who has cornered its prey. "So, fuck off"
For a moment, there's silence, the music filling in the temporary gap. Taeil shifts on his feet, his confidence all gone and finally, he lets out a sharp breath. "Fine. Whatever" His eyes flash with fury. "But this isn't over yet"
Sohyun gives him a mock wave, wriggling her fingers as he strides out of the club.
I exhale, realizing I have been holding my breath. I look over at Sohyun, who's still standing there with her phne. A neutral look has returned to her face. Like the Sohyun just a moment ago was a totally different person.
"You ok?" She asks, sliding her phone back into her pocket.
"I - yeah. Thanks" I reply, still a little stunned.
She shrugs, giving me a small smile, genuine this time. "That guy's a creep"
I nod, processing everything that has happend in the last few minutes. Sohyun, the psychologist. Sohyun, the saviour. What isn't she?
She pulls up the stool next to mine, the one Taeil has occupied just a moment ago and settles in. I shift slightly, suddenly hyperaware of her presence, of how close she is. The bar light cast little shadows on her face, illluminating the little details on her face I haven't noticed before. The tiny mole on her nose catches the light first, then the one under her left eye. They are so small, barely there but they stand out now that I'm seeing her up close.
"First time here?" She asks. How she knows, I have no idea. Maybe it's my my clothes that give it away.
"Yeah" I admits, a little sheepishly. "It's not really my kind of place"
Sohyun raises an eyebrow, amused but not surprised. "Yeah, I figured. You don't exactly look like you are having the time of your life"
I let out a small laugh. "Is it that obvious?"
She smirks, her eyes flickering over to my outfit. "Just a little"
I glance down, fidgeting with the edge of my sweater, suddenly even more aware of my appearance. "It's not really.....I don't usually go to places like this"
"So, not a party person?" Sohyun's voice is more curious than judegemental.
"Not really" I admit. "I'm more of a...stay-in and read type"
Her smile grows and for a moment, the chaotic sounds of the club faded as if we are alone. "Well, you are here now. So might as well try to enjoy it"
She's so easygoing, so at ease with herself it makes me want to throw caution to the wind too. But then, I remembered that morning in the dining hall and my stomach twists. The memory is still nagging at the back of my mind. I bite my lower lip, debating whether or not I should bring up the subject.
Sohyun takes a sip from my nearly empty can of coke and before I can stop myself, the words spill out. "I saw you the other morning. At the dining hall"
Her eyebrows knit together in curiousity. "Oh?"
"I smiled at you" I say. "But you didn't see me"
Or act like you don't, I thought.
Her eyes widen for a moment before she speaks."Wait, really? Xinyu, I'm sorry. I didn't see you"
I blink. "You didn't?"
She shakes her head. "I swear. If I'd seen you, I would have smiled back. I promise. I guess I was just in my own head then. I'm sorry"
Her words are soft, delicate and sincere. It unravels the knot in my stomach I have pretended to be non-existent. Still, she could be lying but I decide to trust her,realizing how much I care about what she thinks of me.
I galnce away, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. "It's okay" I mumble, sipping from the empty can of coke. "I just thought....maybe I'd misread things"
Sohyun gives me a small, warm smile. "You didn't misread anything. I'm sorry if you feel like that"
She's apologizing too much now it's starting to get uncomfortable. So I dismiss it with a nod.
Sohyun shifts in her seat, her eyes flickering down to my sweater, which have bunched up awkwardly from the way I have been sitting. Before I can fix it myself, she reaches over. Her finges gently tug at the hem of my sweater, smoothing it down without a second thought.
"There" she says, her hand lingering a moment longer more before she pulls it back.
I'm still processing the gesture when almost absentmindedly, she reaches out and brush a stray strand of my hair out of my eyes. Her fingertips skim the side of my face and for a moment, time slows down - just enough for me to notice the way her eyes soften.
"There you go" she says, leaning back. "Now you are perfectly suited for the night life"
We both smile at that and for a heartbeat, I swear I can feel something shift between us. Something I can't quite name. Something that might as well be a misinterpreted signal.
The air settles into a quiet lull, the ghost of her fingers still tingling on my skin. The warmth of the moment hangs awkwardly between us and for a moment, all I can do is sit there, actuely aware of the silent between us.
"So..." I clear my throat. "Do you come here alone too?"
The corner of her mouth quriks up like she finds my question amusing. "Alone?" she repeats. "No. Not really. I'm here with my friends most of the time"
I nod. "So, are they here tonight?"
She glances towards the dance floor. "Yeah. They are somewhere out there" she says with a small laugh. "I kinda slipped away for a bit. Needed a break"
A break. From what, though? The noise? The people? The club?
I hesistate for a second. "Not really your scene either?"
She gives me a sideway glance. "It's fun but...sometimes, I don't know. It can geta little old. Same people, same music"
"Yeah" I agree. "I get that"
She taps her fingers against the bar, thoughtful for a moment. "What about you? Do you come here yourself or did Yooyeon drag you here?"
My eyes widen. "You know Yooyeon?"
Sohyun chuckles softly. "We are friends on instagram. She followed me first, I think? She seems fun"
I can't help but laugh at that. "Yeah. She's definitely fun"
Sohyun tilts her head, as if searching for Yooyeon in the crowd. "She told me she's your roommate when I mentioned I see you in one of her stories. She's been hyping you up"
"She -what?" I stare at her, feeling the panic rising in my chest. "Hyping me up?"
Sohyun greans, leaning in just close enough for me to catch a faint scent of her perfume. "Yeah. She says you are a lot cooler than you let on"
I shake my head, laughing under my breath. "That's Yooyeon....being Yooyeon"
"Well, she's not wrong" Sohyun adds, her eyes catching mine for a split second before she goes back to staring at the dance floor.
The silence settles in again, like an early intermission. Sohyun's eyes flicker back to me and I try to ignore the way she's watching me like she's considering something. I sip at the can of Coke that has been emptied long since.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" She asks so casually, like it's something she asks anyone alone in a night like this.
"What?" I ask, unsure if I've heard it right over the loud music.
She lets out an exasperated sigh. "It's too loud. And hot. Let's do something fun"
I hesistate, unknowingly squeezing the coke can flat. "Like what?"
Sohyun gives me a small smile, laced with certainity and mischeif. "Trust me. You will like it"
There's something in her voice that disarms me. Perhaps it's because this night has already been so surreal, with Yooyeon dragging me here, the drinks, the noise and then Taeil's annoying persistence. And now, Sohyun, who had seemingly ignored me is suddenly offering to whisk me away. It feels like too much, and yet, somehow, not enough.
I find myself nodding faster than my brain can catch up. "Okay"
Sohyun stands, sliding a couple bills on the counter before I can protest. She doesn't say anything, just gestures towards the door, and I follow her out of the club.
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The air outside is sharp and cold and for once I'm grateful for my out of place sweater. Sohyun, however, doesn't seem to be fazed. If not, she seems to be enjoying it.
The music fades into the distant as we walk in silence, winding through the quieter streets near the campus. I don't ask where we are going and she doesn't offer an explanation. Instead, we fall into step beside each other, our shoulders brushing ocassionally. My pulse is still racing, though I don't know if it's from the club or from the cold.
Sohyun's pace is unhurried, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans and I keep my arms wrapped around myself, pulling my sweater tight. After a while, we reach one of the taller campus buildings, its ivy covered walls bathed in the moonlight. During the day, these buildings always looks heavy, weighted down by unknown legacies. But under the silvery gloom of night, it has all been replaced by a strange sort of calm.
"Come" Sohyun gestures towards the side door as she leads me in. The hallway is dim, lit only by the low, humming lights overhead. She doesn't say a word as she climbs up the stairs, up and up until we reach the top floor. I'm breathless by the time we come to a stop in front of an old, rusted door, with a faded sign that reads Roof Access: Authorized Personnel Only.
Sohyun gives me a quick wink as she pushed open the door with a soft creak. "Not like anyone ever come here" She mutters to herself as she steps out into the night.
I follow her onto the roof, and for a moment, I'm stunned. The sky stretches out above us, a blanket of stars scattered across the black canvas of night. The city lights flicker below and I can still hear the distant sound of traffic but for the most part, it's quiet. Like the rooftop itself is another world within this world. The wind tugs at my sweater and I pull it even tighter around me, bracing against the sudden rush of cold.
Sohyun is already sitting at the edge of the roof, her legs dangling over the side, her gaze fixed on the stars. She pats the spot next to her and I sit, careful to keep a distance between us.
I tilt my head up, admiring the stars, feeling the enormity of the night settling down on me. "You come here often?"
"Yeah" Sohyun says, her voice soft. "Whenever I need to think. Or when I just need a breather"
I nod, unsure what to say. This isn't what I expected when she said something fun. But in a way, it's better.
We sit in silent for a moment, the only sounds the wind and the distant hum of the city below. This calm, it's peaceful and stirring at the same time. As if there's a deeper meaning to it that I can't quite grasp.
"It's funny" she says. "Back in the country, I used to lie out in the fields and just....watch the stars. Sometimes, I would stare at them for hours. It never fails to soothe me"
I watch the way her eyes trace the sky as if she's searching for something. To be honest, I have expected someone like her to be from a big city. An image of her anywhere else is unimaginable.
"Must've been nice" I murmur. "Being able to see them so clearly"
She nods. "Yeah. It's not the same here. The city kinda takes over. Light pollution and all"
I can hear the nostalgia in her voice and for a moment, I imagine her as a little girl lying under that wide country sky, her face lit by starlight. There's something tender about it, something that makes me want to reach for a fragment of her from a different time.
After a pause, I point up at the sky. "Well, we've got stars here too. Not as bright, but they are still there"
Sohyun tilts her head, following where I'm pointing and I can't help but smile a little. "Okay, bear with my nerdiness for a second"
She chuckles. "Go for it"
I lift my hand, tracing an invisible line through the air. "That's Orion. See the three stars right there, in a row? That's his belt"
Sohyun squints, trying to follow. "Oh, I think I see it"
"Orion was a hunter" my voice dropping slightly as I tell the story. "A really good one too. Some says he fell in love with the goddess Artemis but her brother, Apollo, wasn't too happy about it so he tricked Artemis into killing Orion" I pause. "She realized her mistake too late and heartbroken, she placed him among the stars so she can always see him"
The story hangs in the air when I finish. I glance at Sohyun, her face bathed in a soft glow. She's quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful.
"That's kind of sad" she says quietly.
"Yeah" I whisper. "It is"
I shift slightly, turning to face her and she does the same. Our eyes meet and for a moment, the world stills. I notice the way her hair flatters with the breeze, the city lights reflected in her eyes and the faint smile tug at her lips.
"You are really something, you know that?" she says, her voice low. "Is this your revenge for my espresso lecture?"
I blink, then smiles, feeling the tension melt away. "Maybe" I say, my voice almost teasing. "But instead of coffee, I use tragic mythological hunters"
Sohyun tilts her head, her smile widening. "Touché. You really know how to open-up someone"
"It's a natural talent" I shrug, although my sarcastic tone gives away the bluff.
"So, this is how you get back at people?" She continues, her voice still teasing. "By making them feel guilty for their ignorance about constellations"
I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Please, you are not the first person to endure my mythology rants. Consider yourself lucky it wasn't longer"
"And I thought my espresso thesis was bad enough"
It's like we are back in the café except that now, I'm the one doing most of the talking. But we are still the same two people with their own crazy obsessions.
Then in the lightest of gestures, Sohyun reaches out. Her fingers find the sleeve of my sweater, gently tugging at the cuff, as though fixing it, like she did earlier. She looks at me, eyes warm and amused.
"Revenge or not" she says, letting her hand fall back to her side. "I think I like your stories"
I swallow, trying not to lose my footing in the closeness of the moment. "Well" I managed to say, my voice uneven. "Next time, I will make sure to pick a happier story"
Sohyun chuckles, leaning back, although her eyes never leave me. "I will hold you to that"
The air around us suddenly become charged with something unspoken. There's a quiet, almost reverent pause in the conversation as if neither of us wants to break whatever delicate thread is holding this moment together.
Sohyun shifts slightly, inching just the slightest to my side. The stars seem to burn brighter, and I find myself leaning into the silence, into the space between us that feels both heavy and light at the same time.
"Do you ever feel like....." Sohyun starts, her voice quiet, like she's speaking into the night as much as to me. "Like everything around you is waiting for something to happen?"
I blink, her words sinking into the stillness. "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Her gaze flickers back to the stars. "Like....right now, for instance" Her eyes meet mine again, and there's something in her expression, like she's trying to find the right words. "It's like we are on the edge of something"
Her words send a shiver through me, not from the cold but the hidden meaning underneath. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but it's one I've been pushing aside ever since we met. The strange pull towards her, a quiet fascination that has grown into something else entirely, something that's so wrong and so right at once.
I glance at her and find myself staring at the mole under her left eye, like I'm seeing her for the first time.
"I know what you mean" I finally say, my voice almost too quiet like I'm afraid to break this fragile peace between us. My hands tighten around the railing and I glance down for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. "It's like.....something have changed"
She moves an inch more closer, the space between us nearly non-existent now. I wonder if she can hear my heartbeat now. My breath catch in my throat as she leans in, enough to cover the remaining space distancing us.
"You are right" she says softly. "Something has changed"
It's so quiet, her voice almost swallowed by the night. MY gaze flickers to her lips for a second - a brief unintentional moment that I quickly pull back from. But I wasn't quick enough.
Sohyun notices. I can see it in her way her expression shifts. And she knows that I know that she knows. Her hand, resting casually on the railing, moves slightly, her fingers brushing against mine in the lightest of touches. It's barely a graze but it's enough to send electricity tingling through my nerves.
The moment stretches, suspended between us, as if we're waiting for something to happen or maybe just waiting for one of us to make a move. The tension is palpable now, not uncomfortable, but thick, charged with possibility.
I can't tell who moves first, or if we even move at all. It's like an invisible force has suddenly drawn us together. Her face is so close now, I can see the way my breath mingles with hers in the cool night air.
Then slowly - so slowly it feels like the world is holding its breath - Sohyun lifts her hand. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against my sweater, smoothing a wrinkle near my shoulder like she did the last two times. But this time, it's different. There's an unspoken intentionality to it that makes my breath quickens.
Her hand lingers, tracing the fabric for a moment longer than necessary. And then, without breaking eye contact, she lifts her other hand, gently tucking a strand of stray hair way from my face and tucking it behind my ear. The tender touch send a warmth through me.
Suddenly, everything feels sharper, more vivid - the sound of the wind, the soft glow of the city lights, the way her fingers linger near my cheek, as if she's waiting for my permission to go further.
"Sohyun..." I whisper, not even sure what I'm trying to say, but needing to say something, anything, to break the tension between us.
But she doesn't move. She just watches me, her eyes searching mine, her hand still resting gently on my cheek. "Is this okay?" she asks as if it's a secret we only know.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak without stuttering, unable to think of anything but the way her breath feels against my skin.
And then so so slowly, it feels like time has stopped, she leans in.
Her lips brush against mine in the lightest of touches, barely a kiss at all, more like a promise, like she's testing the waters, waiting for me to pull away, to tell her to stop.
But I don't. I won't.
Because in that moment, everything have ceased to exist - the city, the stars, the quiet night around us. All that's left is the warmth of her lips, the way they press against mine, gentle but certain.
I kiss her back, just as softly, just as tentatively. And for a moment, it feels like my life has reached its epitome.
Sohyun's hand, resting near my cheek, slides down to cup my jaw, her fingers warm against my skin. She tilts her head slightly, pressing her lips more firmly against mine, and I feel a soft sigh escape me before I could stop it.
My hands, awkward at first, find their way to her waist. I hold her there, not too tight, but enough to feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric. She responds by pulling me closer, her fingers slipping into my hair, tugging me gently, deepening the kiss.
Her hands move from my jaw, sliding down my neck, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin there. My heart is pounding louder than the wind around us, around the city below. The kiss becomes more insistent, more desperate, as if we are trying to say something through it, something words can't describe.
Sohyun's lips parts with mine and for a moment, I think she's finally pulling away. But instead, she moves closer, her breath ghosting against my jawline. A soft shiver runs through me when I feel the first press of her lips against my neck, light and teasing.
Her mouth moves slowly, gently exploring, like she's savoring the taste of my skin. Her lips trail down the side of my neck, and when she presses a firmer kiss jut below my ear, I can't stop the quiet gasp that betrays my lips.
Sohyun hears it. Of course, she does. And I feel her smile against my skin.
"You are so sensitive here, Xinyu" she whipsers before her lips continue their path lower, her hands finding the back of my neck.
When she presses an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of my neck, her tongue barley flicking against my skin, I feel my whole body tense with the intensity of it. My hands tighten around her waist, pulling her even closer, yearning for more.
"Sohyun..." I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice and her response is to kiss me harder, her lips hot against the sensitive skin of my neck.
The world won't stop spinning, I reduced to nothing but the sensation of her mouth, the warmth of her body against mine and the quiet, breathless sounds that fill the space between us. It's overwhelming and yet, I can't imagine it stopping anytime soon.
When it finally does, I can still feel the ghost of her lips lingering on my skin. I feel her breath, close to my neck for a second longer before she pulls back. The cool night air rushes in where her lips had been, but the heat she left behind stays, radiating beneath my skin.
I open my eyes, barely realizing I have closed them and glance at her. Sohyun doesn't say a word. She just leans in, her dark locks scattering as she rests her head on my shoulder. Her gaze is fixed on the stars, unblinking as if she's trying to imprint them to memory.
But then, without looking away, she lets out a quiet breath and says, so softly I almost miss it.
"Fucking Apollo"
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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At the back of my copy of The Vampire Armand, there's an old interview with Anne Rice talking about creating that novel. I've never forgotten her answer to one of the questions... It haunted me for years.
It gives incredible insight into how and why she wrote such beautiful, brutal and broken characters, and what she endured in the creation process.
BUT before you read this, I'm going to STRONGLY warn you, it goes to very very DARK places
Q: What are your work habits for a novel?
A: Once I truly begin to write, I work obsessively, in twelve-hour days, punctuated by days of long sleep and vivid dreaming. Starting time and ending time are no longer important. I might begin at 9 A.M., or after noon or at eight in the evening. I go from there. I turn on the computer and write, write, write.
My room is a mess. Notes are scribbled on the walls so that I can look up at them at the appropriate moments and insert the date, the name, whatever, when I need it. Books are stacked so high that people have to search for me when they come into the room. Opened books with marked-up pages are stacked on top of one another.
I become suicidal. I go through a horrid despair some time or other before the final page, during which everything seems meaningless—from the dawn of history to the very hour in which I am writing.
I’m intolerable to live with. But I spread myself thin over a number of loved ones and staff members so that no one person has to put up with how intense, hysterical, and miserable I am.
When I get elated and talk fast and furiously about wonderful aspects of history or the characters, or good developments in the story, people run away from me. I don’t blame them.
While the novel is being written, I try to avoid dressing for outdoors. No one can make you go out if you don’t have shoes on. Not even in the south. I wear long velvet robes and soft velvet slippers. I refuse to go out. All food is brought in. I eat hamburgers because they are easy to hold with one hand while reading and holding the book with the other hand.
In the middle of the night I read, sometimes on the carpeted floor of the bathroom, just because it’s warm. I am wretched. I don’t care anymore about being abnormal. Writing is everything. Everything. It seems impossible to write the book. It seems impossible to lift a hairbrush to brush my hair. But I do it. I put on mascara every day that I write.
This period of intense work lasts about six weeks. It’s best that way. My imagination is overheated, and my memory clogged with data of varying importance. If I go over six weeks, I begin to forget things; I feel the loss of intensity and information and I become all the more self-destructive and obsessed.
The end of the book is a big event for me. A big event. I start screaming. I put the hour and the date at the end of the last page. I expect everybody to understand, at least a little. It’s a triumph! The darkness of destiny has been driven back for a brief while. I celebrate. I scream, eat chocolate, and sleep.
Right near the end of writing The Vampire Armand, I realized I had to return to Italy, especially to Florence, and at once I began to make preparations for the trip. As soon as the novel was finished and off to the publisher’s, as soon as it could be accomplished, I flew to Italy. That gave me hope, a way out of a life threatening darkness that often follows the climax of a book. But I still ate chocolate and screamed.
While writing, I don’t want to rest. I don’t want to sleep. Why sleep? It seems stupid, except when weariness overcomes me like a giant cloud of poisonous vapor. Then I sleep fifteen to twenty hours. I tell people to go in and out of the bedroom and ignore me lying there, as if I were dead. I won’t talk on the phone. I won’t open my eyes if I don’t have to. I dream terrible, upsetting dreams.
I want to kill myself. But I can’t. I can’t do it to other people, and I have work that must be done, novels that must be written. So I don’t kill myself. Besides, I don’t think it’s good to kill oneself. It’s a horrible idea. It has a horrible effect even on acquaintances.
I think a lot about people I loved who are dead. I think of how dead they are, year after year, ever more dead.
#interview with the vampire#anne rice#the vampire armand#the vampire chronicles#iwtv#the vampire lestat#louis de pointe du lac#interview#tw: sucidal thoughts#mental health#writing
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savanaclaw with a furina - like female reader!
the "regina of all waters, kindreds, peoples and laws" is deeply loved by all. under her flamboyant and imprudent facade, lies a girl holding an unbearable weight and guilt on her shoulders to save her people. note: as requested and i love furina sm hihi i will also write for other dorms warning: major spoilers for genshin archon quest other fics: heartslabyul with a furina-like reader & i'm not jealous !! & to my beloved & more than words
-‘๑’- leona kingscholar
"huh? what is the esteemed dorm leader of savanaclaw doing in front of my house?" "... why do you look like you didn't sleep for days? nevermind, take back your pets - they've been following me the whole day and poking me with water." "oh my archons, they like you!"
leona knew different kinds of people, faes and beastmen but never a god! not that you broadcasted it to the world - of course he heard it while grim was chatting away from the garden
so this lion observed your moves and to be honest, you were just like an ordinary person
"what are you doing hiding behind me?" "ahem! you know, i don't really know the forest that much so i would appreciate if i would put myself behind yo- ahhh! what is that?!" "it's just a branch, herbivore. i never knew you are scared of branches."
he actually gained another chess player buddy - he discovered it at the cost of being drenched in water from your water familiars
never he would imagine how on earth did you not go crazy standing in for your archon and acting for so so long? and despite belittling you and your friend group, he couldn't believe his ears when you stood up for him against the other dorms
"what leona did was wrong but how would you feel if all the trainings and efforts were all in naught and overlooked by the people you considered as family? imagine if your fate has already been sealed before you were even born?"
oh, he didn't expect you of all people to do that honestly + not so bad at all so expect a lot of sweets everyday curtesy of this lion
don't tell anyone but with you acting just as yourself and discovering your passions with him as a witness - leona feels proud like a lion watching his cub succeed
extra: you and cheka really go along well to the point that leona thinks cheka might replace him with you someday
-‘๑’- ruggie bucchi
ruggie trusts his skills in sneaking around and swiping things if needed and he will bet that no one could ever discover him immediately
"after pulling a prank on grim and my salon members, you must think that i am much of a gullible fool?"
now you both did really met at a rough start - the hyena thought you would be more snobbish and not to mingle with people below his level especially after hearing you being a god
but seeing you shielding him during leona's overblot and regularly visiting him during his recovery at the clinic made him questioned his thoughts about you
"why are you always visiting me? i thought you hated me?" "...? where did you get that nonsense? if i do hate you, i would go out of my way to buy these doughnuts for you."
well look at you two now! close like two peas in a pod - you really enjoyed spending time with ruggie because you were seeing the world in a different perspective
having hard time picking your new macaroni menu for the day? no worries, ruggie will make sure you will be able to cook other meals than this. not good with bargaining with sam? hold his groceries, he have this in the bag.
"more interesting trinkets for me~!" "oh you collect trinkets? why didn't you say so?"
omg new trinket collector buddy 🥺 whenever you give him something such as a bracelet or even a hairclip he will wear it like a badge of honor
it's alright to help other students but he is worried that being to kind in nrc might backfire on you
"you shouldn't be too trusting here. i know you just want to help but like your friends said - you should also help yourself at times."
while he might not look like it but ruggie can sense your mood change accurately especially when it involves the topic of your past
this one whole year on nrc might not be comparable to your 500 years of living but ruggie will make sure that it will be the best one
-‘๑’- jack howl
other than the adeuce and grim team - jack is the person you actually vibe with!
maybe its because his sense of justice and responsibility reminds you of a dear friend back home and it actually comforts you to see it + makes you feel less homesick
this man is very used to his little siblings so expect him to come off as a brotherly vibes + probably makes you an exemption to touching his ears and letting your salon members put some design in his hair
"... do you think these three would be great teammates during magift competitions?"
"hmmm, i must say they do make a great team. what if we bring it up to leona, i think these three will enjoy it very much."
well the dorm leader liked the idea but seeing how they acted during the practice - it's safe to say it is very risky because they only listen to you, jack and leona
ANYWAYS jack sometimes come to the ramshackle dorm just to wake you up knowing you probably stayed up late reading your novels
he tried inviting you to his morning run only to see you the next day already tired and carrying you on his back after one run
"you can't blame me okay! i was born to drama and directing not in running!"
speaking of carrying you on his back he sometimes do it just because he wants to especially when jack knows too well how much you overwork yourself
while he can read you very well, you can also read this guy by the book through his ears and tail movement
"... jack what are you doing here so late?" "…what? it’s not like i was waiting for you or anything." "i never said that though?" "hmp." while he look away, his tail would impatiently wag and hit the wall behind him making you laugh "uhuh, whatever you say. let's go back to our dorms now big guy."
it turns out that while spending the whole afternoon up to evening, jack wanted to accompany you back to the dorm safely - worried that someone is bullying you because you were down for days.
he is not that expressive with words - but just know that jack will always be your friend despite your upbringings or not being open to tell your past, he understands it pretty well
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland hcs#twst fluff#twst scenarios#twst imagines#twst headcanons#twst x reader#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jack howl x reader#a.savanaclaw#faeryarchives
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Breeding ‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧ Stock
Shouto Todoroki x Cowgirl!Reader
REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Feel free to send me an ask and I’ll write it for you! Remeber to check the rules first.
CONTENTS: smut, breeding (duh), pussy pounding (teehee), hybrids, talks of past abuse, lactation kink, shouto is like in his late 20, early 30s, loss of virginity, master/pet dynamics, oral (f reciev.) Word Count: 2.7k (Proofread! :D)
It seems like people like you are not so lucky as humans. Humans get to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and it’s not fair. Being strapped in a cage all day long.. waiting for someone to take you home n’ milk you dry, maybe breed you.
Breed... you hated that word. You just wanted a life where you could be free, and not have to worry about being someone’s pet. Unfortunately for you, you were one of the best stocks in the farm. The freshest of milk, and the prettiest of faces. This meant that you were being dragged for display almost every time a rich, old buyer came around, flaunting your pretty tits and perky nipples through the thin fabric of your white dress. Praying that the price tag clipped to your ear will be enough to drive them away... sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the buyers will get a little too close, so when they get a bite on the finger or arm and they scurry away, a few lashes at your behind is better than staying with those creeps.
One day, though, another rich man comes inside... he’s a handsome man, and looks way more decent then the crooks that usually come in the store. You hear one of the clerks scurry in his direction-
..”Oh my! Hello good sir! What are you in for today?”
“I’m here to purchase a cow.”
“Oh! I see. Is there any type you are interested in?”
“...Your best cow.”
A pair of heavy footsteps were walking to your cage, but you didn’t pay any mind to it, too engrossed in your own thoughts. You were always so shaky during a time like this, what if the price, or a bite on the arm, isn’t enough to drive them away? You can’t stay here forever...
“I’ll take her.”
Your head perked up immediately.
“O-oh! Are you sure you want to buy her? You haven’t even touched her ye-”
“I said I’ll take her. Do I need to repeat myself again?”
“Of course not sure! The price is 300,000 yen. She’s of high value.”
You looked the man in the eyes, his gaze softened when he met your eyes, maybe because they were currently filled with fear.
His eyes met the clerk again.
“...Seems fair. Lead me to the paperwork. If there's anything else I need to know, do tell me.”
...
You were terrified.
This man was large, and could easily overpower you. You stood no chance against him, so you stayed quiet and timid in the back of his car.
“Where...where going?” Dumb thing. Could barely manage to understand a few words.
“..We are heading home. You won’t be familiar, but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”
Home? You have never had a home before, always stuck in the cage. He said it so gently too, maybe it’s worthless to be so panicky.. he seems sincere.
“Moo..”
...
When he pulled into the driveway, you expected to be dragged into the house, but he held you so softly. So gentle then you felt almost compelled to follow him, and that's what you did.
“Hungry..”
“You’re hungry, hm? What do you usually eat?”
“..Moo?”
He sighed. He wasn’t going to get very far when it came to communication. It seemed as though you could only understand basic words. The man fed you plenty of fresh strawberries, and kiwi. Much to your delight, since all you ate back at the farm was slop filled with hormone inducing protein.
“Who?” Is what you asked him. If you were going to stay here, you at least needed a name. “Shouto, is my name.”
“Sho...shoto..?”
“Yes, you got it.”
Shouto. That was his name. It’s not very hard to pronounce either.
It started to get late, and you had a hobby of following him wherever he went. He could tell by the clank of the cowbell he placed around your neck.
“Sleep?” He assumed you were tired after the trip. You followed him around to this somewhat pile of pillows and a blanket. It was soft, but still sturdy, since it was placed on the floor.
...
The next morning was filled with ache. You felt so heavy. Practically dragging across the floor into his room where he slept. You stared up at him and whined until he started to stir.
“Mmm..what is it?”
“Hurts.” It did hurt, the ache in your hard breasts was hard to ignore at this point. Milk threatening to spill all over and make a mess on the floor if you moved the wrong way.
“Right. I know, come here...”
He pulled down the top of your dress, and your breasts spilled over. He gently grabbed one, and sucked.
It was such a strange feeling.. it was reliving, but your nipples were so sensitive, you couldn't help but whine whenever he sucked so hard. The rich, warm milk flowed into his mouth, and when he began to coax you into his bed, you flinched a little.
“No... no breed.”
“No?” He was rather confused. One the papers and documentaries he read prior, it seemed that almost all cows loved to be bred and filled to the brim. It seemed you were the exception though. It was understandable though, and he wasn’t going to make you do anything you weren’t uncomfortable with, yet.
“Alright. Are you feeling better?”
You nodded. You were still sleepy though, since it was still early in the morning. You snuggled up against him, much to his surprise. Seems like you like his mattress more than the floor.
“Nuh-uh. You need a bath before you can get in my bed, missy.”
“Huff.”
...
It was around 9AM now. This bath was a lot more soothing then you thought it would be. While you were marveling at the bubbles in the bath, Shouto sat at the edge, but he was internally struggling a bit...
Your body looked amazing.
The way droplets of water ran from your hair into the crevice of your breasts. When you lifted yourself up a bit to get out of the water, he could see the fat of your ass, and even a little peek at your cunt too <3.
Shouto wasn't aware of what you were doing right now, probably wandering around the house, but he wasn't worried about that recently. Right now, he wanted to figure out how to make you more.. comfortable. You had pushed away his advance to fuck you earlier, and he was currently fighting the urge to find you bend you over, but that's not very comforting. He understood that you had just gotten here, and it was a very sudden change.
After a while, he decided that the best course of action was patience, and to let you feel a little more at home via gifts or just exploration. He had gotten you a pretty decorated bell that went around your neck, and would let you snuggle with him on his bed as long as you showered or didn't run around in the grass looking for butterflies in his garden. His bed was very soft, and you cried and whined at him whenever it was time to get up.
After a week of being there, you felt a lot more at home. You were able to get down the basic layout of the house now, so you no longer got lost. It was a very large house, and so you would wail for Shouto, so he could come find wherever you were.
It was late into the evening now. You once again lay in Shouto's large garden tub, Shouto was also in the tub behind you, gently scrubbing away the mud on your shoulders, you were extra dirty after planting face-first into the ground. You tripped over yourself after trying to snatch a pretty monarch butterfly. Shouto helped you with wiping the dirt off your face when he found you, but still got himself dirty in the process thanks to you swinging your muddy tail around.
...Once you were finally clean in the tub, that's when Shouto decided to advance. He pressed you back onto his chest, and placed his hand on the lower part of your stomach. You tilted your head to look at him, curious to see what he was doing. You shuddered slightly when he pressed his lips on your neck, right above your collarbone. You tensed when he started to suckle on your neck, so he used his other hand to caress your thigh, and lifted it upward to hand over the edge of the tub, he did the same with the other leg. Your legs were now draped over the tub, giving him access to your more intimate area. He stopped sucking on your neck and again placed his hand on your lower stomach, sliding down very slowly. He whispered in your ear when you started to whimper; "Shhh, I promise I'll take good care of you. Just relax for me.'' You started to melt in his hands, he's taken good care of you ever since you got here, so you should be able to trust him. You were just scared. Scared because of the things you witnessed back at that old barn. Looking at Shouto's different colored eyes makes everything numb, so you nodded at him. He softly smiled at you, and slid his hand on top of your cunt. You stiffened slightly, so he didn’t toy with you just yet, he wanted you to get comfortable first. When Shouto felt you slightly relax into his arms, he smiled at your soft whimper, because now he had placed a calloused finger onto your swollen clit, rubbing in slow circles.
“How’s that feeling, baby?” He was taunting you now, his fingers slowly picking up the pace, stilling you with his other hand when you started grinding your hips into his fingers. “Ah….ah..” You were really trying, you were. Nothing was coming out of your mouth coherent enough for him to understand, but it was enough to make him chuckle at your attempts, a simple puff of air from his nose.
The fingers on your clit were relentless now, the circles had gotten faster, and it was hard not to buck away from his touches. Something in your core was aching to be let out, but you had no idea what it was. Your whimpers turned to soft moans, and soft moans turned into a mixture of inaudible pleas, hiccuped sobs, and loud whines. You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Shouto did. You were on the edge, you slammed your eyes shut in preparation for what was about to happen, but it never came. A disappointed noise came from your lips, and Shouto let out a light laugh at your pouty face. “Don’t worry my dear, I’ll take care of you soon enough.” He pressed a kiss to your ear and whispered something that made you shudder;
“I want you to cum on my cock, love.” With that, he lifted you from the tub, earning him a squeak from you. Using the heat of his body to dry you both at an unfathomable speed, and when he deemed you “dry” enough, he hoisted you over his shoulder and dropped you on the edge of the bed in a playful manner. He gave you no room to complain or whine at him, and instead dragged your rear towards his face as he kneeled down on the floor. Your mouth was opened to protest, but before you could manage to get a word in, your thoughts changed immediately as his mouth started to suckle on your clit. Instead, you let out a loud moan at his ministrations.
He hummed in content at your cries, and the vibrations furthered your pleasure. After a minute, he slid his index finger into your walls, curling upwards in hopes to find that soft spot, and he did. You threw your head backwards, and let out a cry of pleasure. When he deemed you wet enough, he placed another finger in. Curling up into that soft spot in your cunt, and he picked up a nice rhythm too. He curled his fingers particularly hard, which made you slam your hand over your mouth, much to his displeasure. He stood up from his position and pulled you upwards into the pillows of the bed, your legs now bent over his shoulders. He tilted your chin upwards when you tried to look down to see what was about to go inside you, however he wouldn’t let you. If you did see it, you’d probably freak out by how large it was, so it was best to avoid that.
“You’re still so shaky, sweetie. I promise I’ll be very gentle with you, yeah? I don’t want to break you after all.” He smiled down at you when you nodded at him, your teeth biting at your plush lips and eyes slamming shut as you felt the rather large tip of his length prodding at your entrance. “Shh.. hey, you're okay. Look at me. I want to see the look in your eyes as I’m deep inside you, love.” As your eyes slowly opened you decided to grip at the sheets instead, if you bit your lip too hard it would bleed. He buried his face into your neck, as he couldn’t contain his groans and grunts either, opting to release them into your neck, his breath on your collarbone sending shivers down your spine, you could feel him gripping the sheets, and you could feel his cock prodding deeper into your sopping pussy. It hurt, it really did, but it was hard to focus on the pain when he held you so softly.
You had never felt any type of affection in your life, back at that barn. This pain was nothing compared to the lashes you used to receive back there whenever you made any type of mistake. His love was foreign to you, his touches, his affection. It was not what you expected when you first came here. You had thought he was like the others, he’d take, take and take some more until there was nothing left of you. To your surprise however he was giving you something. Giving you food, love, affection, something you’d never thought you would receive. This pain was nothing, nothing at all.
You weren’t really given any room to think when the pain did subside.
Pleasure. Pleasure in its rawest, most carnal form. It was something you never felt up until now. It was like electricity, flowing up and down every vein in your body, it was the only thing you could focus on, if you tried to focus on anything else you might break into pieces. Shouto was saying something, but it was drowned out by your cries. Everything seemed like a blur, the noises of your skin slapping together, your moaning, his grunts, all of it was hazy, other than the overwhelming sensation in between your legs.
Panic crawled its way up your spine when that sensation got a little too intense to handle, that feeling from earlier, something wanting to snap inside. Your breathing got sporadic and irregular, and Shouto noticed and hushed you.
“Hey.. it’s okay. Let go for me, yeah? I got you, you’re safe.”
You tried to plead with him, with the little English you were taught, but he wasn’t having it. He knew what was best for you, afterall.
You tried too hard to hold it in, but when he placed his fingers on your clit again, you knew you couldn’t contain it any longer.
You opened your mouth in a silent scream, head thrown back, your hair a mess, and nails raking at his back. .. and then everything went quiet for a while.
Your eyes felt heavy when you woke up. You weren’t out for long, it was still early into the night, the moon still shone in the same place as when you and Shouto were- oh.“Hi, sleepyhead.” You jumped slightly as the voice beside you, groggy and yet still full of love. Shouto’s hair is a mess, just like yours. Instead of speaking, you instead decided to nuzzle your face into his neck, and he replied with a hum. He kissed your forehead and stroked your back, it couldn’t be any better than this. All those years of isolation and abandonment, you have finally found something good, someone good in your life. You couldn’t bear to see him leave you.
Shouto was about half asleep when his ears perked up to the sound of someone sniveling, it was you. You were crying, in his arms. He pulled your face out, as it was still buried in his neck, and examined your watery eyes and red puffy cheeks with a frown on his face.
“Please… don’t leave me.”
He smiled softly at you, kissing your tears away. “I won’t ever leave you, I promise.”
With that, you both fell asleep. Even though you were a cow, you were still a girl. You had at least half the mind to think of girly things, which included dreaming of what you and Shouto’s kids would look like, and what you would name them.
#thirsts 𓀿𓀐#mha#mha smut#bnha#my hero academia#mha x reader#bnha smut#shouto todoroki#shouto smut#shouto x reader#shoto todoroki#shoto smut#shoto x reader#todoroki smut#todoroki x reader#bnha x reader#bakugou smut#katsuki smut#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader
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Please don't take this as me being angry or trying to be rude or anything, but this ask is... baffling to me?? For a variety of reasons, haha.
Like, I don't set out to create a "fandom" around my stuff when I do things, I just do them cause I feel like it and sometimes I get lucky enough that people enjoy it and feel inspired to create or talk about it! I'm not really trying to fill a void left by one of these "fandoms" by making a new "fandom" around things I make, I'm just doing stuff.
The idea of a stockpile of interests getting too big is also bizarre to me? Like... for an example of both things, you can watch Stamp on the Ground, it's chock full of all kinds of weird obscure interests of mine I just put in there because I liked them, and I since have many many more. There isn't really a limit to how many interests you can have!
Mentioning abandoning TF2 is also very funny to me because I kind of already did that once?? When I started drawing it again in 2023 I was coming back to it, the last time I drew anything for it was 2009. Twelve years where I didn't even touch it! Starting up again was the last thing I expected and yet here I am!
Which relates to the greater point I guess which is that my interests and inspiration don't just die and disappear, they just go dormant. They're always waiting there for the right cue to wake them up, and I can never predict when it happens. TF2 is the most recent example! But Vargas is a long-running one, I take huge hiatuses from it where I don't write or draw or think about it for a long time, but it's always there in the back of my mind. I went absolutely nuts for it around 2020 and then it went back to sleep for the most part, but I still get ideas every now and then. It's not gone. It's just taking a break.
All the things I like and make stuff for are like that. There are a few I don't see myself coming back to any time soon, but then again I thought that about TF2 and now I've made the most elaborate site I've ever made for it. I can't predict these things. What'll be next? I have no idea. MGS again? StarCon2? Ace Attorney? Or maybe it'll be something new? Who knows!
And I think describing one of those "fandoms" as crumbling and dying is a bit unfair... I don't think of it like that. I mean, I started Vargas in 2003 and I last updated it in 2021 and I'm still hearing from new people that just got into it! All the stuff I've made is still "alive" in that way. I do feel guilty in that transition period between one interest and another because I feel like I'm disappointing people who followed me for that one thing though, haha. But what can you do? Gotta do my thing! Follow where my heart leads me! Not everyone's going to be along for the ride, and that's fine.
(Those of you have stuck around through all my different interests, I appreciate you deeply <3)
#asks and answers#i've been thinking about an old dead lj rp i was in ages ago recently for example#where does the heart take us...
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Honey Sun (arranged marriage to Megatron, part two)
Part One
a/n: a whole two people asked for part two! @yrsfch and @sleepisapriviligethatidonthave thanks! This story is giving me back my love of writing.
cw: implied masturbation, but not much else. a whole lot of silence.
-Days melted into weeks, months, years….centuries. The war raged on, and I was reduced to a princess in a castle. He never came back after that night. Suddenly called to the front, people said. Part of me thought it was a way to be rid of me. After all, neither of us had wanted this. Why was I expecting him to come back? No honeymoon for a puppet.
-And now the war was over. News of your death was a blow, but it was an even bigger one hearing that you had returned. Sure, Starscream ruled Cybertron. Shockwave was gone. But now you were on trial. They said they were letting you hold off on all your crimes. You hadn’t mentioned a divorce. Or even me. Not even when they asked me if I thought you were guilty. Not even when I said yes. They said you were going on a ship full of Autobots. They said I was to come with you. Optimus’s orders. Notice how Optimus never married?
-I followed, because I had no choice. Packed up my things and set them in our shared room. I saw that there was only one large berth, because of course. We were married. I was married to one everyone called a monster. -The next few days passed in total silence. No words were spoken between us. You were never there, of course. At night you recharged with your back facing me. My back faced yours. -I was surprised it ached so much. After all, I should be more than used to this by now. But maybe the fact that you were here made it worse. So close, and yet not enough. Sharing a berth again didn’t mean our marriage was fixed. So much for the great intervention of Optimus Prime. You can’t salvage two broken pieces.
-I’d taken to reading near you on the bridge, or in the bar. Sometimes Rodimus tried to talk to me, but my one-word answers put him off. I think he pitied me. Ultra Magnus politely asked me how I was and left it at that. I could imagine you being friends with him. If you even had friends. -I remember once that Rodimus had glared at you, not-so-subtly flicking his eyes over to me. With a heavy sigh, you had asked how I slept. “Fine. You?” “Fine as well.” He gave Rodimus a cold stare. We didn’t speak the rest of the day.
-I should mention here that centuries of being alone has made me rather good at…entertaining myself. I only do this when you’re not here, of course, but I think you can tell. Averted gaze when you come back to our room, finding my face slightly flushed. I can’t tell if you do it too. -We continue this silent dance, waiting for the other to finally crack the canyon between us. I know it’s going to me, eventually. I can’t be alone for centuries more. I start imagining talking with you…being with you. I’m probably going crazy just because of the newer bit of contact. -I start accidentally brushing against you in your sleep. Whispering “Good morning”, only to be met with a gruff hum of acknowledgment. Little glances at you while you read, or talk with Rodimus. Once, I smile at you, and I know that you froze for a second before turning away.
- I want more. -Maybe I do want this.
———————————————————————————-
Part Three
#transformers#tf#megatron#maccadams#mtmte megatron#mtmte#tf mtmte#more than meets the eye#transformers more than meets the eye#tf idw1#tf idw#megatron x reader#tf x reader
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❝ STRAWBERRY SKIES ❞ + RIN ITOSHI !
+. CWs —» sae itoshi x f!reader x rin itoshi, ( domestic ) fluff, angst, hurt & comfort, dating culture, hookups, implicit smut, unrequited feelings,acquaintances to lovers, slowburn; word count — 2.5k
+. PRECIS —» after an accidental encounter rin finds himself drawn to you while all sae wanted was to be apart from you.
+. NOTES —» no clue how i came up with this idea. All i wanted to do was to write on Sae ( lol ) ; hbd to me. i wanted to host an event which I'll but it's on hold for now. I don't want to burden myself and drive out of writing. happy reading fellas ! tap here to read my works.
“First time ?”Rin asked, eyes fixated on yours as his Adam apple bobbed, suggesting that you were not the only one who was barely able to keep your composure.
“Um-hm”, you hummed in response with a little nod breaking the eye contact that seemed to put a curve of delight along his lips.
“Yep. thought so.”, he supplied, “Well, mine too.”, he added, looking hopelessly at the burnt poached egg that refused to leave the frying pan no matter how much you tried.
The younger Itoshi skillfully placed himself on the kitchen counter pushing aside the tray of such unevenly chopped vegetables near the sink. You kept the frying pan aside and headed towards the fridge to fetch a bottle of juice. “I told you to watch …
“I’ll watch the poach when you’re next to me?”, Rin blurted out, quite defensively as if he was not at any fault; part of him was astonished at how you expected him to do such a thing when you were roaming in the kitchen wearing shorts and his shirt.
Your lacy lavender bra was a great bother. God! How direly he craved to see you without his shirt! Would you wear a matching pair? Actually, given your status and background, you seemed like you would do that.
“Yes. so that I learn how to cook and your brother stops yelling at me.”, you bluntly responded. “Ni-chan yells at her? How come? She seems so nice. Why though?”
It is true that Rin has been totally at fault for the burnt poached egg and those half-hearted chopped vegetables since he was never on board with this idea in the first place. He would rather order food and spend the time cuddling with you till the doorbell rings or touching you in ways that you mourn for him when he is not around. But his hands are tied.
After being in several relationships that ended in agony, most of them, you knew that Rin was not just trying to flirt. He wanted to impress you which is why you are here in his home after being followed by him like a lost puppy for half a month.
Not at some fancy restaurant and being the headline of the newspaper the very next day. It has been just two months since this thing between the two of you started; it is hard to describe. It is neither a relationship nor . . . ‘What do people call it again?’, a situationship. Yep, that was not the case either.
It was a lavish party after a victory match when Rin walked up to you as you stood in the lonely balcony under the moon lit night. The breeze was cool , letting you reel in the feeling of being a little tipsy.
“Mind a company?”,a bold familiar voice turned up and to that you turned on your heel finding a man in a finely tailored peak lapel suit holding two glasses in one hand and the other shoved inside the pockets. He was neatly dressed for a party like this, even for a man.
With eyes like that, like emerald stones embedded as the stars across the sky to foretell your future, if you looked a little too long than usual, anyone would be smitten with him. Perhaps, this is what they call love at first sight.
How could you deny him? Besides, he was one of the guests so you had to accept the drink even if you did not want to.
“Okay.”, you took one of the glasses from him with a swing yet careful enough not to graze your fingers against his palm and immediately turned around resting your elbows on the railing. You had no intention of being another one in his list; of course, boys like that always had one, always.
“You should not have drank that much…”, Rin stood beside you, swirling the wine in his glass. “... You could have avoided the party, you know…”, he took a sip, “... is it so hard for you to say no to people?” You rolled your tongue through the insides of your mouth before shifting your gaze on him.
‘Stop it, you’re not my dad.’ With a chaste smile you muttered, “Thank you for the drink . . .”, tilting your head a little you amended, “. . . and the company.”
Of course, Rin hated that you worked for his brother. You were not entirely sure if it was actually because of Sae or the fact that Sae took more interest in you than him. He reeked of envy but which one was it? If it were the first you could not help much and if it were the second, you were utterly screwed. Rin would find every opportunity to torment you and Sae would not pay any heed to his childish tantrums pushing his brother being more stubborn than he already is, determined to be a perpetual nuisance to you.
Rin did not know. He was not aware that Sae and you were just casual friends, more like acquaintances. Sure, Sae tried his luck with you many times but it was too friendly to bother about what ifs and buts.
Besides, Sae knew you could be more useful as a friend than his girlfriend. You have made abundantly clear that you are not some trophy girlfriend that he can show off to people. He had tried all the tricks of old books to rile you up, to make you jealous, to get under your skin but eventually it came down to sharing secrets and beers, truth or dare.
“Can I walk you home?”
You halted on your tipsy steps and let out a sigh of disappointment. You just did not want to talk to him, like not at all, not in this mood. You turned your head and nodded in his direction. Rin swallowed, not sure what he would do next since he thought you would flatly decline. You could say NO but somewhere at the bottom of your heart you just wanted to know, ‘does Rin care like his brother? Would he give a fuck if it was the other way around?’
Rin was surprised that your home was not even in a proper walking distance. He thought he had to bear this awful silence while driving you home. The walk was just a floor away. “You didn’t know that you were partying under my roof, offering me a drink that’s quite a staple to me?”, you said followed by a little cackle to ease him. He was way too stiff for a man who has a list of girls in speed dial.
You walked out of the elevator and so did he. “Most of the buildings are owned by my father. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Mikage corporations? Does that ring a bell?” A raised eyebrow that was all you received from him.A raised eyebrow that did not tell you whether it rang a bell or bounced off. You unbuckled the watch from your left wrist before uttering, “Are you staying for the show or. . . ?”
With that line, Rin could tell how much of a tease you are. Maybe that is why Sae liked having you around. Maybe that is why people feel comfortable around you. He has watched you along with brother plenty of times, sometimes in his apartment, at the airport, at markets but Rin never gave a damn about it until he watched his brother with another girl dancing merrily as you cheered them on, just a few days ago. It was a friendly gathering. He was intrigued; no not about you but what exactly was your relationship with him?
“Maybe some other day.”Rin closed the gap between the two of you with a single step, his hand around your waist making you gasp a little at his sudden closeness. A blink and then you looked at him with surprise in your eyes before he swayed off his hand and stood as if he was at gunpoint saying, “I thought you were genuinely offering…”
He backed away, relishing the surprised look on your face. Part of him wanted to take you then and there but another part of him was gentleman enough not to have you under the influence of alcohol. “See you at the next party.” Rin walked towards the elevator hoping for something, anything as a comeback. He was even willing to take one of those feeble low growls of protest but when he turned around you were not there anymore.
Surprisingly, you did not have to wait till the next party. He was standing outside your office the very next day. With his hands inside his slacks and an umbrella at another hand. He was surfing through his phone as you watched him in awe. You waved at him as he looked at you. Even though the splattering raindrops were hitting the window you could hear him smirk as a curve of delight spread across his cheeks.
[ a message from angry bird itoshi
“Hi. Rin here ”
“I’m waiting till you’re done.” ]
You let out a laugh keeping your phone aside. Of course, he took his brother’s phone, went through his contacts and made sure to message you from his phone. No wonder Sae likes to avoid him.
[ “pick one: hot chocolate or ice-creams” ]
You did not reply for two reasons; one: Sae would not be very happy about this and two: Rin was just the type of guy who gets under the skin very easily, the type you would like to avoid the most.
Eyes as dark as a starless sky that spoke volumes if one were to stare too much yet so agonizingly silent. The kind of face that it hurts to look at yet so pretty, so full of hopes. Rin Itoshi was the kind they would write in poetries, and hide behind the canvas of an abstract painting. Dark-haired, pretty face, luscious lips, morbid eyes. Underneath this boyish façade was something some would not want to see.
Most people call it envy, but you would rather call it an outgrowth of wrath, a mere tantrum. He was just envious of his brother in every way he admired him, so much so that he chased everything that his brother did.
He waited. He waited for two hours and when you were walking out of the office. It had already started raining. The umbrella was too short for two people but both of you managed to reach the nearby cafeteria, half-drenched in rain and half -drenched in love.
Rin was patient with you even if you threw lots of tantrums to test him,to get rid of him but he stayed. Within a span of another two months, things became a little intimate, a bit physical and your first time was nothing like you imagined it would be.
Not because of the person, but because of the place. Rin had come to visit you in your office and he was told to wait. He did. He is used to it by now. Every time he waited for you, he felt like he was trying to hold sand in his hands. When he saw you walking towards the exit with bodyguards around, your mind to busy to acknowledge his presence, he didn't feel annoyed.
But you shouldn't have made him wait so long, not back then and not even now. When you were done with your meeting, when he was finally able to talk to you after days, after a month of being away from you he didn't waste any time. He mourned you too much to be in his control.
And now he has you laying on the work surface, with one of your legs over his shoulder as he slowly thrusts in you. The curtains are not drawn, air conditioner is off and its afternoon, lunch break while Rin is balls deep inside you making you gasp with each of his strong calculative slow thrusts.
It's not okay. You and Rin did everything backward. Casually flirted, went on random dates, and fucked each other senselessly as if you two would not see each other for eons or have been reunited with your love in this life.
And he did all of these just to get to know you and you let him. You let him because you didn't want to be the woman to teach him about broken love. You did it because you couldn't hurt him. You did it because he didn't seem to be what they said about him, not a bit, or was it because he actually likes you.
Unlike him, you didn't have to wait long to have your answer, didn't have to spend sleepless nights thinking, is it really love or just a phase?
Now you are in his apartment wearing one of his shirts since your dress was ruined. Sae would be here in any minute. He gets so cranky if he doesn't get home-cooked meals.
“I’m back.” Sae tosses his bags onto the sofa and rushes towards the bathroom. This wasn't always the case; generally, he'd rest a bit, make sure to avoid his brother at all costs, and then go for a shower. Now that you are here, all he did was behave like a child.
“Ni-san, don't throw your bags like that…”, Rin exclaimed with congested eyebrows. “Ah geez! Stop it.”, he yelled when Sae was about to disorient the whole wardrobe for his favorite towel.
“Check the black bag while I'm in shower”, Sae said before vanishing into the bathroom. Rin knew he brought gifts. It's not like they aren't available here but it's the thought that matters, he remembered. You told him that once.
It's okay. Sae thinks as the hot shower warms his skin. Sae and you never belonged together. You and he always belonged to ‘almost and maybe’; maybe we could be something; she looked almost in love with me; maybe we were almost lovers.
It's okay. Sae has done a lot of things for you not to draw in your attention. He has dated girls, flaunted about it to you and mourned alone. He did it because he could never make you smile like his brother. He did it because you were not made for him; he knew it from the very beginning. He knew it all along that you were made for his brother.
It's okay, Sae thinks as he drags the chair and sits beside his brother shooting a smile at you with a sunburn in his heart, ready to enjoy the meal you have made. You have improved a lot since the last time. That is why he likes you; you heal whatever is broken. That is why he let you go.
Does he regret it? Nope. Since you are loved like you deserved and he got back what he sacrificed you for, his brother, Rin Itoshi.
@tokyometronetwork
tagging y'all cuz i think you might like this one @itoshi-s @orchid3a @swanphantasm @nyaaaaanma @saetoshis @shoyoist @anantaru @lalunanymph @chronic-claire-universe @garoujo @katasstrophy
#sae x reader#sae x you#rin x you#rin x reader#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#sae smut#sae itoshi smut#rin smut#rin itoshi smut#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi#bllk smut#blue lock fic#blue lock fanfiction#bllk fanfic#bllk#bllk fic#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x reader#blue lock smut#bllk angst#blue lock angst#angst fics#angst fic
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it’s our one year anniversary!! and it’s absolutely surreal to me how much we’ve grown over the past year. i love melobin so much, i adore being here and i adore being able to share things with all of you and i can’t wait to share more of the things i have planned !!
the past year has definitely been a little rocky LFMAO i’ve been through three url changes and more than one silly ot6 accusation exposing post but i’m still here ! and i’m still adoring and supporting riize as a whole. it’s been a few years since I’ve found myself as in love with a group as i am with riize and im so incredibly grateful that i got to meet so many wonderful people because of them. from mutuals to anons to just people who interact with my blog, i really adore and appreciate you all, more than i can express in words. i’ve taken a few breaks in the past year, all mental health related but you’ve all been so understanding and i cannot thank you enough for that.
it’s quite overwhelming that melobin has gained over 3.7k followers in the past year, i never really expected much other than a few people to talk to when i first started my blog but im so happy with the little community we’ve created here and i can’t wait for it to continue 🥺 i truly adore you all.
the melody and friends discord server has been a highlight of melobin for me !! i love that server and everyone i’ve met through it, i wanted to create a community that was welcoming and comforting and friendly and i truly believe i’ve done that.
not to be too soppy but there’s definitely some people i’d like to personally thank for being here this past year.
@kkurokitty my jaye !! i love you and everything you do so much. you were there when i first created melobin, we had our little taerae pfps and urls 😭 things have definitely changed a lot since then but you’re since as wonderful as the day we met all those years ago and im so thankful to have you.
@leejeongz amy ☹️ not even god knows how much you mean to me. everyday we speak i feel like we’re closer even if we’re a whole train ride apart. having you back in my life has been one of the best things to ever happen to me and i can’t wait to see you again. manifesting riize come to the UK soon so we can go and see them together. forever the moon to my stars 💔 i love you so bad :(.
@rishimuras melomiu <3 i’m so glad tals forced you to join my server the day it was created. it’s insane to me that we’ve been friends for almost a year now because i still feel like the same girl who was scared to message you whilst also feeling like ive known you for years. you’ve been a big part of melobin and my life for the past few months and i adore you so much. i only ever wish you the best and im more than ready to take on anyone who threatens that. i love you !!
@01zfan parter in crime i fear … the only person im honoured to lose 100 lp with in one day after spam playing tft with our little duckbills and dowsies. i was your biggest fan before we ever spoke and i remember almost doing a (metaphorical) backflip when i found out you already followed me 😭 your writing has changed me as a person and im so thankful to have become friends with you over the past few months. we fight the ot6 accusations together and we get you to plat SOON. i love you !! 💖
@tsandoll bunny !!!!!!!!! i love you !! you’ve been such a support for me with melobin and i can’t thank you enough! i love our little roblox games and the amount of shit we talk, i’m always laughing whenever we talk it’s almost impossible not to. you understand my humour so much and even when you don’t you still laugh .. true friend !!! i really hope soon you can feel better and feel like yourself again, i love you 💗
@sonjuyeonnie i wish i knew what blog to tag .. my fake text proof reader .. but seo i love you you’ve been such a sweetheart to me since you joined my server and i’ve been nothing but proud of you since then. you’ve accomplished so much and im so happy to see you thriving in life. i know we haven’t been able to talk much lately because of work but never forget how much i adore you and how im always here 💖
with some other people .. @antoncore my cee, you’ve grown so much in the few months we’ve known each other and i’m forever proud of you and i can’t wait to watch you grow more, i love you !! … @bbina my smau queen, btl changed me as a person and i’ll always support you in every smau you write even if i don’t know the idol you’re just TOO good. you’re so lovely and sweet and funny i luv yewww !! … @wonbin-truther the prettiest girl !! you’re so sweet and funny and so so talented, your sohee smau was pure GOLD i loved every second of it and i love seeing you pop up in my dms with the most random message, i fear i love you so bad 💔
there’s definitely others and i do adore all my mutuals so much !!! you all mean so much to me and i can’t wait for melobin to grow more. to one year and many more ! 💖
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Blood Orange (Ch 2: The Bathroom)
Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18, MDNI)
Rating: E (5.7k)
links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 1
Chapter Summary: No more fucking your boss. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but he doesn’t make it easy, even as you find yourself wanting to scream. Somehow it all falls away when you lower yourself to your knees before him. You don’t know if there’s any stopping this anymore.
Content Tags: work sex, blow jobs, mouth fucking, CUM PLAY, dom/bossy carmy, coworkers with benefits, carmy being difficult, mental illness, they/them reader, gender neutral reader, the usual
A/N: WHEW. It’s here! Thanks for waiting y’all. I think I embarrassed myself writing this one (flushed emoji). It’s ramping up. Next chapter is gonna be big one. Let me know what you guys think, and enjoy! <3
Before you go to work the next morning, you make yourself come on your fingers. It would've been twice if you had more time.
You open your eyes waking from a dream with his ghostly blue eyes and low voice, and you already know you're wet before you even touch yourself. The pads of your reaching fingers chase the tender spot Carmy stroked inside of you, but they don't quite make it. Of course they don't.
Fingering yourself eases the ache for a little while. On the early morning transit with headphones over your ears, you still manage to find yourself aching for him. The music doesn't cover up the sound of his voice, and you catch yourself grimacing in the faint reflection of the dirty metro windows.
This is not a good way to start your second day at work.
Since you left the walk-in yesterday, Carmy's been following you around like a mosquito in the summer, whizzing around your head, buzzing in your ears. You can't rid your thoughts of him. When you close your eyes, you're trapped in the fridge with him, again, and his fingers are deep inside you.
Fuck. You're standing in front of the restaurant, willing yourself to go in. Just stop it, you think to yourself.
You really should be more mad at him. He technically never apologized for insulting you, but you suppose you didn't expect him to in the first place. You didn't usually get apologies at places like this, from people like him. You don't want to get in the bad habit of expecting good things from broken people.
No more fucking your boss, you think resolutely to yourself, and that's the thought you meditate on as you open the door.
By this time yesterday, there were already a couple of people floating around the kitchen. Today, you find dim lights and silence. Your footsteps feel too loud on the white linoleum as you walk to the lockers to drop off your stuff. You can’t pretend to understand the schedule yet.
“Carmen?” You pace around again as you secure your apron with a tie. No response. Surely he's here, at least. Someone had to open the place.
You take a couple more steps when you hear his voice.
“No, I'm not—that's not what I was sayin’.” The direction of his voice sounds like it's coming from his office. “Of course I miss him. Sugar—” A pause. “I know. Yeah. It's bullshit.” He laughs then, you think. You can't measure how genuine it is. “You're bullshit. Look, I'll call you back later, okay? And I'll—yeah, I'll look at it. Promise. Yeah. Bye.”
It's quiet after that. You're standing there, not sure what to do with yourself when you hear footsteps. Sure enough, Carmy pops out of the office, and you catch just a glimpse of something haunted in him before surprise takes over.
“Hi,” you say at the same time he says, “Jesus Christ.”
“How long have you been here,” he asks, as you go, “That's an interesting way to pronounce my name.”
“Um,” you start, and he stares at you blankly, unreactive to your joke. Too early, you guess. “I just got here.”
“Okay. Cool. Uh…” Anxiety radiates off of him, making his hands fidget and run through untamed hair. Not that you were looking at his hands at all. “You’ll be doin’ prep again.”
“Alright.” You expected as such. You’ll probably be on prep for the rest of the week, if not the month. That’s how most places go, but this isn’t most places.
“Your station was dirty when you left yesterday.” You walk up to your station, and it’s spotless. “I had to clean it before I left.”
“Ah. I’m sorry about that,” you apologize quickly. I was preoccupied with other things, you think bitterly to yourself, thinking of locked doors and heated kisses. Not that you’ll mention it. “I’ll make sure to clean it this time.”
“Prep’s gonna be a bit different today,” he says, completely ignoring your apology. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping. “You’re gonna inspect produce, and then you’ll prep the stock again. Correctly this time.”
“It was nearly perfect, I just misplaced it,” you mutter under your breath.
“Yeah, nearly.” Looks like he heard you this time. Asshole. He places a box of onions on your station, rattling the table slightly. “Do I have to tell you how to sort out the bad ones from the good ones?” You’re honestly not sure if he means that as a jab, but the way he says it makes your insides sizzle with irritation.
Don’t take it personally, you remind yourself. Don’t. Take. It. Personally.
“How about you show me just in case? Just so we’re on the same page.” It’s a wonder how calm you keep your voice. To your surprise, Carmy doesn’t roll his eyes, doesn’t sigh, he just nods and proceeds. Every time you think you’ll predict him properly, he does the opposite.
You follow the line of his callused finger pointing to brown splotches on some of the onions. Intently, studiously, you examine the dark spots (indicative of mold), the sprouts (initial stages of deterioration), and the mushy areas (a sign of decreasing freshness). He’s talking about details as he seems to do when it comes to food, even elaborating on the farming process, but you don’t quite pick up that part. You just pay attention to the parameters you need to follow.
No more fucking your boss, you remind yourself again, because you catch yourself aching at the sight of his fingers. Your eyes have a hunger of their own, flickering up and down his muscular arms. God damnit. Maybe there’s another reason you can’t quite pay attention today.
“Are you listening?” Carmy’s pointed question snaps you out of it. Fuck. You hope he didn’t catch you staring at his fingers again.
“If I can save it and just chop off the bad parts, then I should,” you regurgitate on instinct. “Those are the best ones to use for the stock. Otherwise, I should just toss it.”
For a split second, all he does is fix you with his focused stare. You feel the intensity of it in your chest, your beating heart fluttering with its weight. No matter how many times you scold yourself for finding him attractive, your eyes can’t ignore what’s right in front of them. You find yourself counting his moles.
“I caught you staring,” he murmurs, “for real this time.”
“I—uh—” Your eyebrows are so raised you’re sure they’re bound to shoot off your warmed face. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. You weren’t going to mention yesterday, and after your first interaction this morning, you were sure he wasn’t going to, either. Guess you were wrong again.
“I’ll be in the back if you need help. The others should be here soon.” He’s moving on without giving you a chance to recover. Your brain can’t process the shock. “Just call if you need anything."
Before you get a chance to scrounge up anything to say, you’re alone in the kitchen again.
This time I'm really gonna do it, you fume internally. Because you have a healthy amount of anger management, you don’t let yourself continue that thought.
Sydney is the third person to show up after you and Carmy. You give her a nod and a thin smile as she walks in, and she waves back. Soon after she arrives, the others trickle in one by one. As you're learning to expect, the quiet never lasts for long.
There are tasks circling you just like yesterday that you don't fully grasp yet. Everyone seems to be instinctively following their own schedule, their circadian rhythm matched to the chaotic ecosystem of the kitchen. It’s just as suffocating as it was yesterday. You remind yourself that as a new hire, you don't need to understand the madness yet. Nonetheless, an invisible pressure presses down on you.
“Hey, d'you mind telling me where this produce goes?” A triple stack of filled containers sits heavy in your arms. With Sydney out of the kitchen, Marcus is your next safest option in terms of coworkers. His head flicks up from where he was focused on kneading dough. A streak of white flour is across his nose.
“Oh, that one's bottom shelf, near the back.” He claps his dusty hands together, flour falling between them like snow. “Here, I'll just show you. You know where the walk-in is?”
With Marcus, it doesn't feel like there are any stupid questions. It's a gift you don't take for granted, especially around here. You let him lead you to the fridge again, even though you remember where it is. It doesn't hurt.
“Thanks. I'm, uh, still having a hard time figuring out where stuff goes,” you say after you put the produce away.
“It’s cool. It's only your second day, right?” You nod. “Just takes time. Don't sweat it. You ever work in a restaurant before?”
“Yeah, a couple of times.”
“Then you know what you're gettin’ into.” That makes you laugh.
“Sorta.” You shrug. “To be honest with you, I just need money, and I like cooking enough, so…now I'm here.” You're not quite as honest with how desperate your situation was on the verge of coming, but it's fine. Not really the time and place for it anyway.
“I gotcha. That's how it was for me too, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Well, that's how I started at McDonald’s. That was a while ago now.”
“I see. It's better here, I hope.”
“Hard to say,” he says, but there's a little smile on his face. “For the most part, Michael was cool, but—”
“Michael!” You blurt out, startling the both of you. “Holy shit, I'm sorry. I've just been trying to remember the name of the previous owner for forever now and—wow, sorry. I didn't mean to shout.”
“It's fine.” Marcus has this amused expression, but it dissolves quickly. “You met him?”
“I did. I came here a couple of years ago when I first moved. Just once, but—anyway, what's his deal?”
“His deal?”
“Yeah, like, why'd he give the restaurant away? Carmy said he didn't want it anymore.”
“Oh.” You can't read the way Marcus’ face shifts. “That's what he said?”
“...Yeah?”
“I see. Okay. Uh…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know how this sounds, but just try not to bring Mike up for now. It's still kind of a sore subject.”
“Ah, my bad.” Your brain instantly supplies stories of estranged families, sibling spats, and stolen money. You suppose it's a sour sort of relationship—something you're intimately familiar with. “Can I ask what happened, or…?”
“I'll tell you later,” he replies evasively. “You know what else they got you training on today?”
“No idea,” you answer honestly. The nosy part of you wants to hear more about the Berzatto family, but the responsible part of you reminds you to cool your jets. “Carmy just told me I was on produce. Know where he's at? I peeked into his office, but he wasn't there.”
“Oh, he just left.” Your blank stare makes him elaborate. “He's off doing Carmy things.”
“Doing Carmy things?” Looks like the person in charge has abandoned you yet again.
“Business stuff, probably.” Marcus shrugs. “He does that sometimes. He probably won't be back for a while, so I can help you with training for now if you want.”
“That would be great.” There's a remark on the tip of your tongue about poor management, but you hold it. “Is Carmy a better boss, at least?”
“Compared to Michael?” You recognize sadness in Marcus’ pinched brows, even if it's only momentary. “I dunno. It hasn't been long, but this place has been running more smoothly since he started doing things.” Your shocked expression makes him laugh briefly. “I know, it used to be worse if you can believe it.”
“I'm not sure that I can,” you admit.
. . . . .
The next several days at work continue to test your patience. While Carmy keeps you on prep, keeping your tasks simple, he continues to find ways to keep you on edge. You stiffen up every time he enters the kitchen, waiting for him to point out yet another mistake.
Chef, this cut's too uneven. Chef, you're taking too much time on this. Chef, you should’ve cut this part off. Chef, you’re creating too much waste.
Yes, Chef, you always reply, even as his comments become more and more grating. A childish part of you wants to do a worse job out of spite, but another part of you is hungry for his approval far more than you would ever admit. You wonder if he's this tough on everyone.
The incident in the walk-in does not get mentioned again. A childish voice in you wonders if Carmy has forgotten about it. Of course he hasn’t, but every time he critiques you, you wonder about the Carmy who kissed you. You wonder what that Carmy's thinking, because you have no clue.
Has he been thinking of you, too?
This is how things should be, you remind yourself after you touch yourself for the fourth night in a row to the thought of him. Your fingers are wet, and your wrist is embarrassingly sore. I can't have sex with my boss again. I just can't.
Would it be different if he also touched himself to thoughts of you?
You desperately suck your own cum off your fingers, and you wish it were his fingers instead. It doesn't taste the same.
The bright lights are irritatingly bright when you come in this morning. It looks like you're the first person here again, other than Carmy. You hear his irritated voice as soon as you enter, which is clearly a good sign.
“I appreciate you thinking of me, I do. I do. It's just—” He sighs. Looks like he's having another phone call. “I can't come back. Not right now.” Silence. “No, uh, won't happen for a while, I think. The place's fucked.” A shaky breath. “What? What did you say?
“The head chef asked about me?” Carmy's voice has gone tight. “I see. Of course he said that. No, it's fine.” Pause. “...I know what they've been saying. I figured they'd look down on me.” His laugh is hollow and painful. “Look, I got shit to do. Thanks for asking me, but it's a no. I can't.” Another pause, drawn out and tense. “Sure. Bye.”
After he hangs up, you hear him muttering to himself. You can't pick out any of the words other than the curses, but it sounds bad. As you put your things away, you silently pray to the abstract idea of a god to give you both strength of patience. Seems like you'll need it today.
“Morning,” you tentatively greet him when he sees you. He's not surprised by your presence today, it seems. He nods back.
“Morning.” His eyebags are dark with a lack of sleep. Upon closer inspection, his whole everything screams sleep deprivation, perhaps a bit more so than usual. His messy hair seems particularly unkempt today. “You're doing prep again today.”
“I figured.”
“You need to get better about cleaning your station.” His words are full to the brim with irritation. “I keep having to clean it after you.”
“I thought I was—” You stop. Calm down, you think, but it's getting harder and harder to repeat. “Sorry. I didn't realize.”
“I told you the other day that it was dirty. Were you even paying attention?”
“Of course I was!” Annoyance bubbles over inside of you, potent and unbridled. Carmy barely reacts to your raised voice. Somehow, that pisses you off more. The cap on your contained anger has popped off, and there's no fitting it back on. “Are you always like this towards your employees?”
“Like what?”
“Like an asshole?” You're too irritated to hold yourself back.
“Depends. Are you always like this with your boss?” He retorts immediately.
“I don't usually have sex with my boss, so no, I suppose not,” you respond stupidly, and that makes him go dead silent. He narrows his eyes, fixes you with his gaze. Like you're a new problem that needs solving or something like that.
God damnit, you think to yourself. Why'd you have to say that?
“You've been thinking about it.” The air feels thicker, suddenly.
“I never said that.”
“Then why did you mention it?” Shit. “You said you were going to do better.”
“And I have been. I've been trying to do everything you've been telling me to do.” You don't know why you take a step towards him. “You said you were gonna be nicer.”
“And I have been,” he echoes, and his sincerity makes you roll your eyes.
“Bullshit! You've been nit-picking me all week!”
“We have standards here, and you need to learn how to follow them. That's all.”
“You're right! I'm learning,” you argue, throwing exasperated hands up in the air. “Cut me some fucking slack!”
“Then learn. Improve.” He slams a hand down on the aluminum surface next to you, enclosing you partially in. Being this close to him, you can really see how dark his dark circles are. You could easily move to the side if you wanted to, but something in you stays put. “There's no excuse for a dirty workspace in a kitchen. I thought you would know that already.”
“I'm so fucking sorry, chef,” you spit back with about as much venom as you can muster. Which, right now, is a lot.
That shifts something inside him. You see it flash across his face—surprise, anger, and then…something else.
“Dirty work station and a dirty mouth,” he murmurs. His voice is lower, quieter, and it sounds just like how it did in the walk-in. You hate how that change instantly makes your heart pick up speed. “You think you get a pass to act like this because of what happened in the walk-in?”
“You motherfucker,” you hiss, meeting his glare with your own. “So now you're going to acknowledge it? And for the record, I get to act however the fuck I want. Especially with someone like you.”
“Someone like me.” He doesn't ask you to elaborate. He just laughs, breathy and condescending, and he's so close you can feel his breath fan across your face. “You think you're above all this, don't you?”
“What?” The question takes you so off guard that it almost dissipates the strange mix of anger and arousal simmering in your gut.
“I know it doesn't feel good to have to take orders from someone you hate, but here's the thing. You have to.” He's not smiling, but you swear he's getting some sort of sick satisfaction from all this. Why else would he be saying any of this shit?
“I could leave right now if I wanted to,” you threaten him. “You won't be able to find anyone else that wants to work in this shithole of a place.”
“You're right. You could leave if you really wanted to.” His eyes narrow curiously at you. “Then why haven't you?”
You’re well within your right to leave already—it checks all the boxes. Chaotic work environment. Awful management. General workplace misconduct. Unprofessionalism between coworkers. You suppose you're partially to blame for that last one, but still.
If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you told yourself. You're not sure why you're not listening to your own advice. The simple truth of the matter, though, is that other jobs won't have him. They won't have the man that's been keeping you up at night, the man that you want to simultaneously devour and destroy. They won't have Carmen Berzatto, and for some reason, that's all it's going to take.
You don't understand yourself. It scares you, but not enough. Not enough to leave.
“...I don't know why I haven't left yet,” you say quietly after a while. “I have no clue.”
“I see.” If he's dissatisfied with your answer, he doesn't show it. “Then for the time you're here, let's make one thing clear.”
“What is it now?” You sigh.
“I'm in charge here,” he whispers. His other hand is on the counter now. You're completely blocked in. “I'm the one who runs this place, so you're going to be good and listen to me when I speak.”
“You're not really giving me a lot of incentive, chef.” You lower your gaze to the counters next to you. “Maybe if you gave me something to work with.” You don't mean for it to come out as suggestive as it does, but with him surrounding you like this…
“Incentive?” He brings a hand to your face, tucking his fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back to him. His touch is achingly gentle, but it forces it to look straight into his eyes. Your fidgety gaze catches glances of the dark blue speckles that border his pale iris. “Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart's pounding like sprinting feet thudding on concrete. You can't place what feelings are excitement or anxiety or both, but maybe no separation exists. Shutting your eyes was a weak attempt to temporarily block him out, but now all you can focus on is the sensation of his rough hand on your hot face.
Hesitantly, you open your eyes to face him. Ice blue and dark circles. His intense stare is difficult to match, but you try.
“What do you want from me?” You ask quietly.
“I want you to clean your station. Think you can do that?”
“Don't patronize me. Of course I can. I just—happened to forget.”
“Hm.” He smiles briefly. It's just a bit mocking. “You don't have a good track record so far, so you'll have to prove it to me.”
“...And how would I do that?”
“Depends,” he replies vaguely. “Depends on what you want.”
“What I want? I thought you were supposed to be in charge.”
“When I touched you, you told me you wanted to touch me.” The realization clicks in your head. “Do you still want that?”
You hesitate. Memories of the walk-in flood in. You remember the silhouette of his tight jeans over his bulge, and you ache. You shouldn't say yes. You really shouldn't. A distant voice says, you don't want to do this. What have you been telling yourself? This is a bad idea.
Unfortunately, it's far past a matter of want anymore. It's a matter of need.
“Yes,” you whisper back. Your fate is sealed. “I do.”
That's how you find yourself in the cramped bathroom with him. It's dark with one of the lightbulbs having gone out, making it feel even smaller. An eerie green cast coats the room.
“You're going to show me that you can listen. That you can clean up after your messes.” He's leaned up against the wall, broad hands unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes shamelessly zero in on the motion. “Think you can do that much?”
“Of course I can,” you reply, but it comes out a lot softer than intended.
“Good.” You force your eyes away from the outline of his bulge in his boxers to look at his face. His darkened eyes are trained on you. “Get on your knees.”
Oh, you think. So this is how it's gonna go.
You wish you could say that you hesitate even a little bit, that there’s even a shred of contemplation left in you. However, there isn't any of that remaining. Obediently, you fall to your knees, resting them against the cold, hard bathroom floor. You're at eye level with his unbuttoned jeans. Slowly, you raise your eyes to look at him.
His downturned face is framed by wild strands of hair. Looking down at you casts darker shadows across his face, but not enough to hide his expression. It's an odd mix of hunger and what you think to be admiration. Surely not, but that's immediately the thought that comes to mind.
“Waiting for directions, chef,” you murmur.
“Mm. Right,” he says, like he was lost in thought. “You look better like this.”
“Watch it,” you warn him. “I could still bite your dick off.” To that, he just briefly smiles, and then it's gone.
He's pulled his black pants down just enough to let his clothed bulge hang over the waistband. The sight of it goes straight to the simmer starting in your gut. You watch his veined hand disappear into his boxers. He's doing this far too slowly for your taste.
Finally, he pulls out his cock, nearly completely stiffened, and you can't deny the way you begin to salivate.
You were right. It's big, though not just in length. His cock is thick. You immediately know you won't be able to take the full length of him into your mouth, but what fits is going to be a stretch. You're already imagining how those bulging veins are going to feel against the flat of your tongue.
“Use your mouth for something other than talking back to me. Make me come,” Carmy orders quietly. “Enough direction for you?”
“Shut the hell up,” you mutter, ignoring the feeling of the growing heat inside you, and you pull the reddened, shiny tip of his cock between your lips.
His pre-come mixes with the saliva on your tongue. You savor the taste of his salty musk, suckling slowly, and you hear him exhale shakily above you. Looks like you've been given something of an opportunity to get him back for the walk-in. Not repayment—payback. The distinction is important.
When you pull back, thin strings of spit connect the pink head to your glistening lips. One of your hands moves to hold the base of his cock as you close the gap again. You drag your tongue down the side of his length, licking the thick vein you were eyeing earlier. You feel him twitch.
“Do that again,” he breathes. Without question, your tongue retraces its path, running back over the line of spit it created. That gets you a quiet, strangled moan, and it's music to your ears.
“Is this part sensitive?” You ask as you stroke the vein with your thumb. You suck your way down the vein again, making small, wet seals of pleasure.
“Somewhat.” He sounds good like this, breathless and flustered. A smile twitches on your lips. You lick across the inside of your hand, wetting it before lazily curling it around his cock. He slides effortlessly in your grasp.
“You gonna come already?” You can't help but tease. He's surprisingly reactive, more so than you would've thought. It's not that you're complaining—it's not that at all. The sound of his low groans is making you drip.
“Hah—no. You'll have to work harder than that.” You feel a hand pushing back your hair, and that makes you raise your head towards him. His touch is surprisingly gentle. You watch the movement of his lips when he speaks. “Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue.”
You can't quite figure out what it is about all of this that makes you submit. Just moments ago, you wanted to wring your hands around his throat. It was far too easy to abandon your anger and kneel in front of him. Maybe it's the incomprehensibly part of you that undeniably needs his validation. Maybe it's the soft, low tone of his voice, gentle yet commanding. Either way, it has you obeying with a thought in your mind.
You do as he says. You part your lips and extend your tongue. As your eyes flutter upwards towards him, you're struck with the impression that you must look obscene.
“Perfect,” he whispers, and just the one word sends something of a euphoric rush through you. “Doin’ so good for me.”
You soak up the praise, basking in the warmth of it. Then, Carmy spits onto your tongue, and his saliva slides towards the back of your mouth.
You can't hide your surprise. Your breath hitches, but you don't say anything. Fuck, that should've made you angry, but it just made your clit throb painfully hard.
He drags his thumb down your tongue, slow and sensual. You have half the mind to suck on it until he glides the head of his cock on your tongue, leading it into the heat of your mouth.
“Ah—” You lose the words you were going to say, along with the empty space in your mouth. The tip of his cock's nearing the back of your throat. You breathe shakily through your nose. You were right again—you can't take him fully in. It's enough of a stretch as it is.
“Fuck, that's it…” Carmy sighs. “Just like that…”
His hand holding your hair turns into a tighter grip as you begin sucking up and down his cock. It's an awful mess, the size of him forcing spit to drip down your chin. It's not just that, though. He's thrusting his cock back into your mouth quicker and quicker. You wish he would slow down so you could lean back and suck on his dribbling tip, but his hand has you anchored.
Time slows as he starts fucking your mouth. Your hands fall to your hands. Your knees are starting to hurt. You care surprisingly little about that fact, instead opting to care about rubbing your clit as quickly as possible. When you get your hands under your underwear, you find your whole pussy already smeared in wetness. You've seeped through the fabric.
When he pulls his cock out of your mouth (or rather, when he tugs you off), you think he's going to give you a new order. Or that he's going to say something. You don't realize what's really happening until it's too late.
You watch him bring a hand to his cock. He strokes it twice, keeping his hand tight in your hair, and with a low groan, he comes.
With his hand on you, you can't move away. Not that you try. When the first glob of cum streaks your cheek, you freeze. All you can do is pause as he comes on your face. Even your hand under your pants has frozen, your palm pressed up tight against your pulsing clit.
With each rope of cum across your face, you feel yourself throb. Carmy is a sight to behold as he comes, long-lashed eyes falling shut with his parted, gasping mouth. He's jaggedly fisting his cock as he just keeps coming. You feel the cum starting to drip down the slopes of your skin, even your lips.
By the time he's come down, he's left your face an absolute mess. Your jaw feels heavy, and his cum is hot against your swollen lips. You've come down as well, and it's left you with the irate realization that he just came all over your face without asking.
“You could've at least told me you were gonna come on my face,” you snap. Your cheeks are burning. Your argument feels weak with how worked up you feel over watching and feeling him come, but the irritation is still very real.
“Clean your station, chef,” he responds, infuriatingly smug even as he catches your breath. “Practice makes perfect.”
“Are you kidding me?” Of course. That's what this all was. A fucked up lesson, a twisted sort of discipline.
“I'm not.” He uncurls his fist from your hair. “Stand up—your knees must hurt.”
You pause for a second before you shakily get back up on your legs. One minute he's messily fucking your mouth, and the other, he's worrying over your sore knees. He continues to become more and more confusing.
“You're gonna make me clean up your mess.” You catch your face in the small, shitty rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. God, are you a filthy sight, cum and spit all over your face.
“I had to clean up yours for the past week, so yeah.” He's zipped himself back up. He's clean, not a drop of anything on him. Unlike the mess parading itself on your face. At least there's not any in your hair.
“This is not the same. This is—” You frustratedly search for the right words. He's remaining as stoic as ever. “You didn't even kiss me,” you blurt out, and as soon as you say it, you regret it.
Carmy stills. You can't tell what he's thinking with his unmoving expression. You're sure he's about to insult you again, but then he’s leaning in and sealing his lips against yours.
You're stunned. A small noise escapes you as he kisses you deeply, thoroughly. His tongue drags up a trail of cum and spit up your chin and back into your mouth. Or back into his. You're unsure, with the way they're all blending together.
“There,” Carmy murmurs against your lips. When he pulls back, you see his tongue running across his lips, collecting the pearlescent sheen that was on them.
“Um—” You start and immediately stop. You’re speechless.
“Now clean up.” You hear the sound of distant company. Your other coworkers must be arriving now. “I expect improvement now, chef. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” you reply bitterly. “I suppose I met your expectations, then?”
“Sure. Closely enough, anyway.” Potent aggravation hits you like a cast iron pan. He drags his thumb in one last infuriating line across your cheek. He sucks it into his mouth and cleans it off. “Don't take too long. I have a lot planned for you today.”
Without waiting for a response, Carmy leaves. He leaves you alone in the shitty bathroom with a now flickering lightbulb, left to clean his cum on your face with water, hand soap, and thin paper towels. You don't know if you've ever been so angry before.
The anger doesn't make the arousal go away. You rub your needy clit to orgasm, your back pressed up against the wall like Carmy's just a moment ago.
As you come with Carmy's cum slowly trailing on your face, you wonder if there is any coming back from this. If there's anything left to be done to stop whatever's happening. You can't come up with any solutions or suggestions. Only one thing is undeniably clear:
You hate Carmen Berzatto, and you're already thinking of ways to get his cock in your mouth again soon.
~
taglist: @zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @thehouseofevangelista @alastorssimp @talas-starlight @jmamas92
#carmy berzatto#the bear#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#jeremy allen white#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto imagines#carmen berzatto imagines#my fics#blood orange#ARGHHH ITS HEREEE. i won't lie this chapter was so hard to write#im still having a hard time figuring out what this particular carmy acts like. its difficult. im getting there tho#my smut
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