#idk if i'll find the time to do another day but i'll try !!!
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ngl gamers, I think I'm gonna inevitably lose to the hormones and depression in the near future XD
Can't bring myself to be active cause I'm using a lot of energy to not vent post all the time. But fuck it, into the tags I go!
#I want NO MESSAGES regarding this. let me just be upset and alone#you spend most of your life trying to not succumb to sick brain but honestly I don't think it's worth it in the long run#my life is for better or worse....decent. but I've lost the drive and happiness to really DO anything a long time ago. like whats the point#the only reason I havent killed myself yet is cause Im too lazy (and dont have access to a gun for a quick getaway)#and I'm saying all this DESPITE having stuff to look forward to in the near future. it's like AUGH whats the POINT IM always gonna suffer#why does mental health take such a toll on ppl. this shit sucks ass. and I still feel excited for things in the future too? somehow?#but I also really want to die so. idk man. idk. maybe if I fall in love with someone then I can be distracted but all my walls are up#what's the point in anything anymore. *I* have to take the steps to improve myself and my situation#and I'd rather die. anyways who wants to make a pact that once we reach 40 we will marry each other#that might be fun#also my brain has gotten so bad that I am literally considering joining a hiking club to get out more and I FUCKING HATE HIKING#but I should probably do something out of my comfort zone to push myself and who knows maybe I will find a new passion#but let me tell you about the anxiety - oh BOY it's starting to act up again. hahahha#ah well sometimes you just need to scream your feelings out in the tags to get a lil clarity from the brain fog#one day I will fucking die/kill myself but for now I'll just try to make the best out of. whatever the hell this stupid life is. *shrug*#(but hey if any professional hitmen are reading this. feel free to. heh. you know ;) )#also I need to get back to art#gotta do my paid work and that one pic I lined months ago. and clay stuff *continues to bed rot another week because hahahahahahaha*#ah I wish I didn't fail all those years ago. then I would be free. I wish I was free#ok goodnight I promised myself that I would do paid work when I wake up tomorrow so hopefully no more migraines -pray emoji-
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I love how you find posts or reblogs of mine that I'd forgotten about. Makes for a treat in my notes to rediscover stuff :)
Haha I'm glad you enjoy it, I scrolled through your blog and put some posts in my queue so it will probably keep happening XD
Also if you feel like it, may I have another fish? I'll trade it for a flower or a pokemon, whichever you prefer (it may take me a few days tho)
#I'll probably do it again#I don't follow that many people so I run out of posts on my dash sometimes and go explore someone's older reblogs#so expect another excursion through your blog at some point XD#that's also why it probably looks like I'm only liking things without rebloging anything. they are going to the queue#because sometimes I spend a long time without rebloging so I decided it would be a good idea to use the queue when#I go into a reblogging spree. better a few posts through weeks than like 200 in a day haha. don't want to spam people's dash that much#and then disappear for 2 months#trying to find some balance#Also related to why I hate that tumblr changed how they show you a post when you click the link because it used to take you to the#position of that post in that person's blog so I could just click the last post I liked from someone and keep scrolling where I have left#and now I can't and it's one of the reasons that change is so fucking annoying for me#Also also. why a flower or a pokemon? idk it's what I feel will be easier to draw for me. and I haven't drawn anything in ages#so an excuse to make a small silly doodle sounds good rn
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Did driving practice today. Actually did parallel parking practice this time, even tho I really didn't want to still. Finally got it into my head that I can maybe do this.
SO......
I have scheduled my driving test. For November 13th, 3 weeks from today.
#speculation nation#IM SO NERVOUSSSSS but i need to do it. i need to. worst case scenario i fail and have to try again another day.#i was actually gonna try to schedule for a week from today but they were full up for the next 2 weeks.#so. 3 weeks! my therapist is gonna be happy for me when i tell her haha#this is. something ive been avoiding for over 10 years now. but i decided at the start of this year that This would be my year.#Year Of Unfuck My Life. and im finally doing it. im going to finally get my license.#it's so. huge actually. a similar level of Holy Shit factor as me graduating.#which seems like an uneven comparison but honestly ive just been so so so scared of this driving test#an insurmountable obstacle bc i was stuck at school away from family to help me practice etc etc#very tied up with me being stuck at school for so long actually. the neverending purgatory of being Stuck In Place.#but my cousin lives closer to me now and hes been helping me out. and i am so very grateful.#augh augh augh augh. life is so busy and it feels like everything is happening at once AAAAAAAAAAAA#but im taking it all in stride. i am. oh god i might have to just practice and then take my audition video all on the same day.#bc i am too tired to deal with it rn and i have an exam tomorrow so idk if i can practice then. also i have to clean.#i will make it work. i will make something work. for the love of fucking god i will make it work.#no time to write barely any time to relax but thats okay i am Go Go Going and trying to keep enough time to sleep#(prior few nights being the..exception lol.)#i certainly wouldnt want to live this way for too long. but just a few more months. i can do it.#next semester hopefully wont be as busy. i'll have 3 hard classes but if im lucky they wont even have much homework.#i can do it. i can get through it. i will get my license in 3 weeks (manifesting) and i will get my own car.#i will find a new apartment to live in. i will Hopefully find a job.#within a year my life is going to be much much different.#my life is Already much much different than it was just a year ago. tho this year has been more... metamorphosis.#in a year's time. i will be 28 years old. and the pieces will Finally be falling into place (hopefully!!!!!)#for now. god i need to rest. will probably go to sleep early tonight. need to be rested for my exam tomorrow.#first tho i gotta shower and feed both me and the cats. yes.
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HAVEN
(n) a place of safety or refuge
> VIBES: “Safe and Sound” by Capital Cities
> PROMPT: Insecurity+Burnout
> SCRIPT: ___(google drive link)___
i didn’t get to participate in moxiety week like i wanted so i figure i try again with logince! i love them both so it’s fair enough to me.
a scene kept replaying in my imp brain so i did the doodle first then worked on the script. they’re not refined or anything, but i had fun.
Tags under cut!
_~_~_~_~_~_
creator, prompts, others’ work: @loginceweek2023
kindersides blog: @ask-the-kindersides
#sanders sides#logince#loginceweek2023#sanders sides fanfiction#kindersides#idk if i'll find the time to do another day but i'll try !!!#let me know if anything doesn't work !#pistachiooss#stan's cousin michael
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ok so like. unironically i think disliking any of the girls in project sekai is a major red flag ESPECIALLY when people say they don’t like the girls but “ stan ” akito/toya/rui/tsukasa. but can i be honest. at this point disliking any of the characters at all is a red flag. in my brain. i know everyone has their preferences but it’s just... these are all well-rounded, very complex characters. when someone calls any of them “annoying” or “boring” or “mean” it just immediately tells me that they didn’t read the damn stories. or they read the main stories and skimmed maybe half of the event stories. because adjectives like Annoying, Boring, and Mean are the most superficial conclusions you can come to about a character, and if you finished reading the text you’d see that they quite literally do not apply to prsk’s main cast. ok well maybe annoying i will concede on that one a tiny bit but they’re teenagers. maybe don’t play a game about teenagers if you aren’t prepared to be annoyed/subjected to secondhand embarrassment sometimes
like. oh you hate akito? 🤨 why. what part of the text led you to the conclusion that he’s an unlikable character. what did you read. tell me. if you say anything about the way he talked to kohane in the main story you’re going to be in big trouble
#i always thought it was obvious that akito said those things to kohane because he saw himself in her#it was projection. it was his way of trying to protect her#he tried to shove her out of the street music scene because once upon a time He Was Her and he barely survived#but if you didn't pick up on that during the main story. guess what the event and card stories make Blatantly Obvious#fuckin hell the circumstances of kohane freezing up on stage and performing poorly when the power cut out very closely mirrors the-#-humiliation akito faced at crawl green all those years ago when those older musicians harassed and bullied him#and yeah find a way out is a recent event! but that's why you gotta at least kind of keep up because prsk's story is ongoing#and you can't. act like the characters are static and like the stories will never show them in a whole new light#because they do all the damn time!!#akito's actions in the main story were expanded upon before find a way out but that's the event that's like.#if you don't get it now you're never going to get it#it provides context for why he blows up at not only kohane but kotaro too!!!! anyway this is an essay for another day#i've been meaning to really tear into. that whole scene from the main story for a while now idk when i'll get around to it#but these are all good kids i hate everybody forever
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I wish i could skip forward to December 23 already
#i cannot stand my own whining but god i hate my life rn lol#i mean it's all my fault but i don't see myself improving in this environment#i should just try to ignore myself for the next 3 weeks#i can start packing up and throwing away stuff i won't need here anymore and maybe I'll feel less stifled#idk#just get through it i guess#this weekend I'll be away one last time and then there's only 2 weekends left#then it's essentially only 2 more weeks because the last week doesn't even count#finals start in 2 weeks already so i should be occupied#i still haven't even started my paper i already asked for an extension for and should hand in in November#instead of October#i just need to start focusing on anything but food intake and exercise and my body and I'll be fine#the days only seem to go by so slow suddenly because i'm literally not doing anything but hate my current state#so tomorrow I'll work on my paper and go running or take a walk and I'll book my bus tickets for the weekend#I'll find some enjoyment in occupying my mind with anything but myself#(sounds wrong. but i guess my problem really is that I'm focusing too much on how i dislike everything about me and need to change it#while the solution would be to simply not care and live my sad little life)#void screams#(((affirmation: i will not cry myself to sleep tonight ♡ i will face another day without a mental breakdown over how Wrong i am ♡))
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Girl help I don't have access to the recordings of the online class I'm in and also I don't think I'll be able to go to class tomorrow
#they're stopping class on wednesday evenings (we love to see it) BUT there are these one hour classes we have to go to instead#it's in the middle of the fucking day bro#which is already bad bc i know the vast majority of my classmates have jobs (that's why they signed up to an evening class)#i don't have a job because of 1) living in a remote tourist town that just shut down for the winter lol and 2) having a dodgy knee#and i don't want to be the one loser who is able to show up to every class because i have nothing better to do#well. i've been asked by one of my former coworkers if i'd like to go visit a different former coworker who's currently on sick leave#because she had an operation. and she wants to go tomorrow but i haven't managed to get a time out of her yet#(the person who asked is on maternity leave so her messages are kind of sporadic to say the least. i think she literally sends a message an#then immediately has to do something with the baby and then several hours go by. which i completely get)#but i was like 'y'know what yeah. i'd rather do that than go to class. count me in and i'll email absences'#only. only i don't know the email for absences. well.... in theory i know it but i don't know the exact syntax of it#well i know it has to be absence@[institution] or absences@[institution] but idk which it is#and i can't find it ANYWHERE. i know it must be in the recording of the intro class but i don't have access to the recordings hahahahaha#i signed up for moodle and slack and everything with my main email account which is not a gmail account. i do attend the google meet meetin#w/ my gmail BUT it just shows up with my full name. and all the recordings are on google drive... and i haven't been given access with my#gmail account. i sent a message saying 'hey this is fullname (main email) on another account please let me innnn' but i haven't heard#anything. should i just try to get into it on my main email address? it's what my youtube account is under so i can probably get into googl#stuff on there. right?#i just am sooo screwed if i can't get into this because not only will i not be able to email absences#but it doesn't even matter if i can email or not because i won't be able to catch up on the recordings. and if i can't watch the recording#of class then i won't be able to do whatever tasks are associated with it and then i might fail the course. haaaaaaa#i'll just try with my main email. and if it doesn't work. then we panic#personal
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CONJUGAL VISIT w/jujutsu Kiasen
Description: in which an inmate of a prison or jail is permitted to spend several hours or days in private with a visitors
More: Fem!Reader, explicit content, unprotected sex, some d/s dynamics with Toji, American prison system? (idk if other countries allow this lol?)
☾ Ryomen Sukuna
He's been in solitary for so long that you start to think you'll never see him again. He finally fixes his attitude enough to come in contact with others and eventually gets some visitation rights. Get used to having sex with him here because the guards inform you he isn't leaving for a long time.
“s’too much Kuna!” You whine into the flat pillow but your boyfriend Sukuna could care less and keeps pounding into you from behind.
“Think I care slut? Been away from this pussy for months now, shut up and take what I give you.” He grits out, pushing deeper into your back with one hand, fisting your hair with the other. He’d be damned if you tell him what to do after all this time away. Do you know how spineless he had to act in order to get this visit, on his ‘best behavior’, desperate to finally be able to sink in some cunt after being surrounded by irrelevant men and guards with their heads up their asses?
“Feels s’good,” you moan when Sukuna hits your special spot. “I’m gonna cum!”
“That fast slut, it hasn't even been ten minutes” He chuckles, leaning down to bite your shoulder.
“Missed you, ‘Kuna, c-cant cum ‘out you.”
“Can’t do shit without me, bet you can’t even function out there without me,” He groans in your hair, you don't understand half of what he’s saying you just nod mindlessly and slam your hips back on his cock.
“Then cum on my cock, whore.”
☾ Gojo Satoru
He's on a mission that requires him to go to jail. The prison warden is in on it, but that doesn't mean your boyfriend doesn't want to experience the "real deal." He convinces the warden to allow him weekly fuck sessions because he says he can't complete the mission without them.
“i-Im gonna cum ‘Toru!” you whine aloud, to far gone to be embarrassed that your boyfriend is fucking you on scratchy sheets in a bed that probably hasn’t been thoroughly cleaned in years or the fact that multiple other girls have probably been in the same position you’re in with other inmates, on the same bed.
“So tight love, haven't you been using your dildos in my absence?’ he questions as he thrusts into your glistening cunt. Watching as you throw your head back, tears running down your cheeks.
“They’re too small ‘Toru!” You wrap your legs around his hard ass trying to get him as deep as he can.
“Aww, they can't make you cum as hard as I can, can they love?” he pouts against your swollen lips. You shake your head furiously, listening to the sounds your squelching cunt makes when he thrust back in, his balls slapping hard against your ass.
“Think i'll ask if I can get out early on good behavior. I can't leave my girl unsatisfied now.” He chuckles before diving his tongue into your mouth.
☾ Toji Fushiguro
Your mans got locked up again! This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last. You don’t know how he convinces the guards to allow you to visit time and time again, but you won't complain. You always miss him when he's gone every few months. The guard just sighs when he sees you’re here for visitation again
“You miss me, little girl?” he grins, sticking thick fingers in your already sopping cunt. “You know I always miss you when you’re gone, daddy.” You gasp, your back hitting the cold concrete wall behind you when Toji curls into your g-spot.
“So so bad.” you whine, grinding your aching clit on his hard stomach, legs tightening around his slim waist when you find the perfect spot.
“You wanna cum little girl?” he asks while marking up your neck. He needs others to know you’re taken and if he can't be around you at the moment he’ll make it known another way.
“Yes Toji!” You scream.
“Yes what?” He stops his fingers.
“Yes daddy,” you whisper, moving your hips desperate to not lose the orgasm you were chasing. “Please make me come daddy, please!”
“That's what I thought little girl” He says before continuing his movements and biting down on your heavy bottom lip.
☾ Choso Kamo
Too ashamed that he ended up in prison to allow you to visit him for a while. After much reassurance from you that you don’t look at him differently he finally comes out of his shell and makes friends. Get’s out early on good behavior.
“You think someones watching?” You mumble, looking back at the camera in the corner of the dark lit room.
“F-fuck baby, don’t fuckin’ stop,” Choso whines, gripping your waist, trying to make you bounce on his stiff cock. ‘Who cares if they are, baby? They won’t touch.”
You turn back around and grin down at your boyfriend “mmm, isn't that how you got in here in the first place Choso, beating up a man for touching me?” You start grinding on his cock again.
“Do anything for you, baby.” He moans gripping your waist when your tight walls start squeezing down on him, trying hard not to bust a nut so quickly.
“Yeah,” you moan out, feeling his cock twitch in you. “Now you’re stuck in here for months away from me.” You pout and claw at his chest when Choso starts to bounce you on his cock. God, if only he didn’t beat that man up you’d have this every night.
“Worth it.” He looks up at the camera, imagining the security guard looking down at your ass recoil when he slams you down on his cock
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#jjk#smut#anime#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#choso kamo#choso x reader#choso smut#ryomen sukuna#x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna smut#sukuna scenarios
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I was reading your boob or ass svt reaction and vernon's part reminded me of that one tiktok trend. I lowkey wanna see more of his reaction. Make it like oc is trying it out on him, he could just be doing anything and oc walked in and just flashed him idk just a suggestion hehe nice fics btw!
18+ / mdi
content: bf!vernon, established relationship, smut-ish (fades out into smut), reader has boobs, boob worship, etc.
wc: 1088
a/n: this is the perfect concept for him thank u for the request!!
masterlist
"sorry, babe, i'm just finishing up this one thing. i'll be free in a bit, okay?"
those had been vernon's initial words when you'd asked him to come to bed so you could watch a movie you'd been meaning to for a while.
he somehow had a week off between his packed schedule, yet he had been spending most of it fine tuning some music on the small at-home studio he had set up a while back. you'd tried calling out to him a few times already, but he had absentmindedly dismissed you each time, an apologetic look on his eye each time he did.
after about an hour of constant dismissals, you were getting kind of fed up by the wait. had it been any other day, you would've let it slide, understanding that he had a busy job that required working from home on occasion. however, the two of you had agreed that you'd limit work this week in order to fully enjoy vernon's short-lived vacation. yet you now stood (well, laid) in bed huffing after yet another 'i'll be right there, babe' from your boyfriend.
enough was enough. you'd have to take out the big guns.
literally.
like any other man, vernon was a simple guy. when you first met, he was a bit of a mess any time the two of you hung out. it was clear to everyone and their mother how much he liked you. his crush on you manifested in shy glances and the occasional senseless ramble.
as the two of you got closer and eventually started dating, he became more chill around you, now considering you one of his best friends as well as his girlfriend.
there was just one thing that had not changed from back when the two of you first crossed paths. and it was the way he'd react to your body.
just as any other man, the sight of a nice pair of boobs could get him completely out of commission, shy in his glances and stammering just like back when you first met.
he could be formidable in bed, but he absolutely could not resist you if you caught him off guard. any time you initiated sex or sent him nudes out of nowhere, you'd have him wrapped around your finger within seconds.
today, you'd have to use a similar strategy once more.
getting up from your bed, you threw off your tank top without a thought, leaving yourself in just a tiny pair of sleeping shorts. looking yourself over in the mirror, you straightened your back so your tits could be in their nicest state for your boyfriend.
you made your way to his studio, finding him slouched over and working on something on his computer, back facing you. you knew that if you walked over to him and messed with him by wrapping yourself around his frame, he'd merely shrug you off with a chuckle and a promise to come to bed soon, so you went for something a little more out there.
"baby?" you called out from the doorframe, leaning against it in a casual yet sensual way.
"hmm? i'll be right there, baby," he practically dismissed you.
you audibly huffed, "look at me, at least?"
"oh, you're here?", of course he was so absentminded he didn't realize your voice was no longer coming from your shared room but from behind him.
turning around, he put down his headphones and faced you, eyes widening in surprise at the sight. he opened and closed his mouth a few times, brows furrowing in confusion and head cocking to the side. despite his confusion, you could tell his eyes were glued to your tits. they went back up to your eyes every few seconds but mostly remained south.
"baby?", he finally questioned.
"are you coming to bed, nonnie?", you asked as you slowly brought your hands up to your tits, taking short steps towards his chair.
"i, uh, i still have to-" he cleared his throat, "i'm almost finished, baby. i promise," he reassured, though not sounding too sure of himself.
"but you've been saying that for hours," you pouted.
"i- i know, baby," he sighed, "it's just- i just have to- fuck, can you put those away? i can't think when they're just staring at me," he groaned, interrupting himself.
"put them away?", you whined, "don't you wanna play with them, nonnie? they're so sensitive ... it's cold here. wanna see?", you asked once you'd made your way to him, standing over him as he sat on his chair, hands on his knees and digging onto them in what was clearly frustration.
"baby, please ... i need to finish, just- oh. oh, okay, i guess this is happening now," he gaped when you straddled him without such thing as a warning, tits now on his face.
"nonnie ..."
he shook his head, "don't say anything else, i- just, yeah ..." and with that, he ducked his head to get one of your tits in his mouth, hands pulling you to him so your covered cunt could sit right against his hardening dick — his thin sweats left nothing to the imagination.
"fuck, nonnie ..." you sighed as he let himself go on your tits.
his tongue explored them, uncaring in the trail of saliva he left behind. nothing mattered when he had his favorite things at his disposal, practically begging to be marked up by him.
"you're so fucking mean to me," he groaned with no actual conviction in his voice, "this is why i never get any work done at home."
"are you complaining? want me to- ah! to take them away?"
"shut up," he grumbled as he increased his ministrations, mouth going from one nipple to the other as he made out with them.
at some point, his hands had reached the back of your thighs, lifting you with him as he sat up from his chair and resulting in a yelp in surprise from you. as he attempted to walk you out of the room and towards your bedroom without bumping into too many things, you interrupted him with a mocking laugh.
"thought you had work to do?"
"baby, if you don't shut up and let me take you to bed i'm putting a lock on that door and now neither of us gets to have fun," he threatened with a huff.
all you could do was sigh in contentment when his lips enclosed around your bud once more, ready to let him have whatever he wanted.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#vernon x reader#vernon imagines#vernon fanfic#vernon smut#vernon oneshot#hansol scenarios#hansol x reader#hansol smut#hansol fanfic
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forgive the inaccuracies, idk much about babies my bad ☠ baby isn't named, hope you enjoy :)
another kid taking simon's baby's toy? absolute hell
it had been two days of crying and sobbing from the infant, he was in shock of how she many tears she seemed to be able to shed worriedly wondering if she would even get dehydrated at one point. but it wasn't much better when she calmed down, he absolutely hated how sad and miserable she looked as she moped around.
the holiday had seemed so bleak now, you had ordered a replacement plush giraffe for your baby the same as the last but it would be shipped to your home. not to the resort you were currently on and with still a week to go, you didn't know if your baby could hang on for that long. and simon regretted even booking the trip at all, he cursed the hotel for being so incompetent. cursed the people that took her beloved toy away and himself for not being able to find it anywhere.
both of you trying to engage in playtime with your baby who didn't seem very receptive to any of it, it was her first time with sand in all the 7 months of her being alive and at the beginning she loved playing sandcastles with him but now she just looked blankly at it. hardly wanting to join as the soft sad look on her face persisted
"i'll go check with the staff again, maybe they've found something?" you offered standing up, hoping that her little toy would pop out from somewhere while your husband gave you a gentle nod sighing softly himself. he looks back to the infant, giving her a faint smile as he tilted his head
"c'mon sweetheart, it's gonna be alright. look, we can still have plenty fun" simon tried everything, doing the voices she loved, making all different types things in the sand, even sprinkling some on her little hands and feet but it didn't elicit any sort of response from her as she held her little toy spade tapping the sand hopelessly. he sighed once more, shaking his head as he looked up for you hoping magically her giraffe would be in your hand
but it's her shriek and gasp that jolts him slightly, blinking down at her watching her legs trying to crawl eagerly to somewhere while he looks around the families trying to figure out what got her so concerned
and then he spots it, his own heart thudding against his chest
he saw a little boy holding the same pastel giraffe and the sight filled him with triumph and anger. this little kid stole his baby's toy, put his whole family through hell, at this point that damned giraffe felt like his second kid, all while those parents watched without a care in the world? the cursive lettering on the side of the giraffe only confirmed his doubts as he stiffened up.
target set, he was ready to attack
he heard you come back, not finding anything from the staff as you look at him a little confused. your brow raised as he gets up, leaving the baby beside you stalking to the other family with a bone to pick
and like usual, simon doesn't even bother with pleasantries. walking straight to the parents eyes narrowing on the boy playing on the floor, swallowing down the anger that wanted to rip out of his throat as he looked at the giraffe. it was his, it belonged to him
"can we help you?" he hears the mother speak, her tone cautious and wary as she frowns. he barely gives her a glance before he snatches up the giraffe from her son, relishing in the protests as he stepped towards the woman. his face set eerily in a neutral expression but the emotions burned deep inside his eyes, brown eyes darkening as they settled on the woman
"yeah, teach your son not to steal from others. cheers" he spoke coldly, daring one of them to stand up to him. he was in the mood to fight, nights of dealing with his unhappy baby had left him feeling on edge and he was more than willing to shout his rage at someone.
but they didn't say a thing, who would to a 6'4 behemoth of a man, already pissed off and aggravated, just looking for a reason to snap back?
the silence had been resounding and he was satisfied, shooting them a last look as he stormed off. heading back to where you and his infant sat, presenting the beloved giraffe as a gift
"got your little friend, munchkin" his voice immediately softens as he kneels down on the sand once more, handing her the plush toy chuckling gently at her small excited giggles. tiny hands grabbing excitedly as she pressed the giraffe to her chest in pure relief making you both smile. he steadies her and her small frame nuzzles into his chest, a string of "dada" happily falling from her lips making his heart clench with adoration and love. smiling softly at you as he holds his little mini close to his chest, cuddling her tight
she ends up falling out of love with the giraffe the next day
#idk i wanted to write dad simon so bad lmaooo#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#cod 141#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#simon riley x y/n#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#dad!ghost#dad!simon riley#ghost x reader
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Change My Mind [4]
Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.
Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor
Words: 7.1k
nothing much to say this time but this is not beta read, my friend who was supposed to read it is unfortunately unavailable, idk if the argument makes sense in the end cause I personally run from confrontations so idk how to write good arguments so yeah.
ANYWAYS, Happy reading!!
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TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud
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In all of your years working for Bangtan, as one of their staff and the youngest stylist, you've been included in every life events and celebrations there is. Birthdays, first wins, comebacks, everything there is even something as important as family dinners. You've never skipped or forgot a single member's birthday, period.
But as Guwon stands before you, a plane ticket to Jeju in hand with the departure scheduled tomorrow and returning just a day short before the tour, you find yourself at a crossroad. It’s Jungkook's birthday tomorrow and Jimin has planned a small party tonight at their dorms before the formal celebration at the company the next day.
While you've been trying to rectify the awkward air between you and the maknae since his confession by starting conversations, the maknae only replied to you with silence before promptly vanishing in two seconds flat.
But despite the strain in your relationship, you could never think of not attending his birthday. You'd never thought to be petty enough to return his energy. His present was already wrapped in a pretty bow under your bed for a week now for Christ's sake!
“I-I can't… It's one of their birthday’s tomorrow.”
“Oh.” His smile falls. “Can't you just give your gift today? Surely they can party for one night without you.”
It was a genuine question, logical and true but for some reason, his tone raised concerns within you. You swear to the highest heavens you could hear a bit of irritation hidden beneath dejection.
You winced. “I can't, I'm really sorry… I-I can pay you back what you've spent for the trip. I'm really sorry, I just never missed any of their birthdays. I swear I'll make it up to you next time!”
Guwon's shine dulled the further you went on and your heart twinged with guilt. In another universe where some humans gained animalistic features, he'd have dog ears pressed to his skull, staring at you with wide and glistening eyes.
You waved off the image immediately, disturbed.
“It's also my fault for not asking for your schedule. The tour is next week and then you'd be away from me for months so I kind of… panicked. I'm sorry.”
He should've known better than not to do research on your bosses , a voice at the back of your head scoffed and you waved the thought away as you put a hand over his.
“I should've notified you as well. Tell me if those are refundable or not, I'll pay you back.”
He waves you off. “Cute but I've been raised well to know not to ask a lady to pay for my mistake, so don't worry that pretty head of yours about not being able to go.”
The date continued and thankfully, no dead air remained and conversation eased out of the both of you. Guwon sorted out his reservations early on, he'd stopped eating every once in a while to pick up his phone to either receive a call or respond to an email.
With how often he answered the chimes of his phone and how long it took for him to finally put it down, you figured he must've prepared a lot for the week and it made you feel more guilty every time he did it.
Today, he brought you both to an indoor park he rented for an hour for a picnic. It was on the outskirts of Seoul and he also cooked most of the food placed between you both, his mother however, was responsible for the side dishes.
Speaking of mothers, yours called earlier to congratulate you on whatever it was she was adamant on keeping secret but you already knew what it was and you were glad Jungkook’s mother gave birth on such a perfect day almost 21 years ago.
Guwon was planning to propose to you during the trip.
It left a bitter taste in your tongue. Sure you had expected to be married to him at some point but you barely knew the man outside of his colorful stories, and knew none of his actual behavior in his home. You haven't even visited his house yet for a vibe check so why is he rushing too fast?
Despite the guilt in your heart, relief is more palpable knowing you'd have more time to figure out if you truly want Guwon in your life.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took a glance at it.
[17:29] Jinnie: I'll pick you up at your apartment by 6. [17:29] Jinnie: please be prepared😊
Seeing the t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ friendly smile attached at the end of his message, you're suddenly reminded of the present. You hadn't told any of them of your date today, something that had drawn out longer than you thought it would. You frowned, fingers drumming on the side of your phone as you pondered on what to reply.
You had promised to help with the food yet here you are, out of town and on a picnic date inside a garden observatory.
“Who is it?” Guwon asks, seeing the frown on your face. Your mind immediately picks up the odd tone he has.
“Their oldest, Jin. We're supposed to cook together before the rest comes home.”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought the birthday was tomorrow?”
“Oh, we're planning a small party before it, just his closest friends.”
Guwon nodded, eyes distant and thoughtful as he took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What time are you expected?”
“Their eldest said he'll pick me up at six.”
He looked at his watch and frowned deeper. “It's already 5:30. Maybe I can drive you to their dorm instead?”
You immediately shook your head. Remembering the promise you had with Jin and Jungkook. The maknae had recently begun to look at your direction again yesterday after Hoseok had talked to him, inviting Guwon would ruin the smallest progress you’ve had.
Not to mention, you can't reveal their dorm location even if he is to be your husband. Company rules and you've signed an NDA.
“Company rules, can't reveal their location.”
“If we're going to be a couple soon, I'm going to need to know more about these guys you're hanging around. I don't trust them.” He says as he turns to the picnic basket to take another sandwich out, unable to see the twitch in your eye.
“Well, you have to learn how to, they’re my bosses and my best friends.”
“I’m having a hard time believing that. I mean,” He scoffed. “Did you notice how they look at me whenever I’m around? That rapper—Yun–Yoonmi stared at me like I’m an insect he stepped on.”
Anger boils deep within your soul and you’re sure it's visibly contorting your face at this point but the man didn’t notice it and continued chewing on his food.
“Besides, their location is pretty well known already, no? Just a couple searches away, why be so secretive about it?”
You refrain yourself from frowning and it takes all of the energy within you to not react as wildly as you would’ve. It was amazing how the illusion of something good could shatter with only a few words and you set down the sandwich in your hand.
There's something terribly humbling upon realization that the man you're talking to is indeed, a man.
Noticing the shift in the air, he set down his cup of coffee with a slight raise to his brows.
“Why are you looking at me like that? It's true though, I just think it's pointless to try to hide it when some people already know, so what's the use of trying to hide their dorm?”
Where's Jimin and Taehyung at times like this?
You dreaded the conversation you're about to bring up to your mother once she calls, and could hear her scolding you for having such high standards. Guwon being indifferent to the possibility of being stalked, and your boys’ privacy being breached immediately raise red glaring flags over his head.
A lawyer himself who shrugged at the threat of crimes, the joke just writes itself.
“Don't look at me like that, I'm just… trying to understand why you didn't want me to interact with them after our second date. It makes a man overthink, know?”
Whatever thread you were holding onto, a sliver of hope that you might've misheard or misunderstood him, decayed within you and you picked up your phone to stuff into your bag.
You had hoped, wished, that after your deep talk on the night Seokjin had scolded your ass to the nines he'd understand your dynamic better with the boys or at least try. You could already hear Yoongi's drawl out ‘I told you so’ as you packed up, even imagine him bringing up Namjoon’s statistical analysis and how I should've listened to it.
“If you're implying what I think you are implying then I don't think we should meet each other anymore.”
Tossing the food back into the basket carelessly, you slung your bag over your shoulder and stand, only for his hand to shoot out to grab your wrist in an iron grip.
“Wait, I-I'm sorry! I just got… jealous, that's all.”
Even with the apologetic look displayed clearly on his face and the fear swimming with them, nothing could bring back to life the trust you had on the man and you pushed his hand away.
“I can't stay with someone who can't understand why those boys are important to me, sorry Guwon but we're over. Don't you ever contact me again.”
“You can't possibly be breaking up with me because I said what I felt? Over them? Really?!”
You don't even recognize the man sitting opposite you.
He knew, he saw how close you are with them and even sat through the stories you told him during your dates. Guwon knew you cherished every single boy in the group yet he disregarded it all because of jealousy? If that isn't a warning, then you might be blind.
“It's like I never even knew you at all.”
He scoffed. “Same with you. Can't believe I actually believed your words telling me you were friends but I saw how those boys treated you!”
Sure your relationship with your bosses is unusual but it was built from hardship and loneliness from being taken away from home and surrendering their time for a glimpse of fame in a field where they're at a huge disadvantage. It was special in ways not many could fathom because in their head, what reason would there be for a man to befriend a girl other than having the intention to fuck them?
It was the mindset of the old and “ wise” and it had infuriated you to the nines.
For him to reveal himself as one of those old cogs when he expressed himself as a gentleman and be convinced by his act of kindness, even the word disappointing could express how greatly upset you are.
“Bet you've slept with all of them at least once, hell, I don't even know why your mother bothered when you're already busy whoring yourself for seven men.”
Anger flooded your veins, it was hot and rampaging under your skin. Before your mind could even register your actions, your hand had already moved, making contact with his cheek in one swift motion. The slap echoed like a clap of thunder in the silence of the observatory.
Even after seeing the angry red mark beginning to mar his skin, your anger remained.
“Goodbye Guwon, I hope we never see each other again.”
Walking away was easier said than done.
You got picked up by Guwon earlier and since you've run far enough from the indoor garden, away from your supposed ticket back home, you're now waiting for an uber at a small library sequestered between towering and loudly designed buildings. You had half a mind to ask your friends that lived nearby for a ride but decided against it.
They might be busy with their own family.
Unlike you.
As you sit there waiting for your ride to come, your mind takes you to your mother and her genuine glee at the thought of you getting married. Ever since your second date, she had been sending you photographs of weddings for inspirations, links to event places and tailors, and flower shops where you could have your bouquet arranged. She was beyond ecstatic, if she heard what had happened, she would be devastated.
A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, the volume catching the attention of the bookkeeper who was quick to shush you.
As you waited longer with only the deafening silence of the library to accompany you, doubt began to form at the back of your head.
Was breaking up with Guwon really the right choice?
An angry, louder voice screamed at you for doubling down on your decision. You knew your boys longer than you knew him, if the trip had gone through, Guwon would've proposed to you despite the short time you've known each other. Something you didn't want. Not to mention, he would've gone through the idea while contemplating on your loyalty.
So yes, it was the right decision!
But you were to be married .
Your mother was so happy to have finally matched you with a guy you attended three dates with. The thought made your heart clench, she was excited to see you on the altar and has most likely spread it around your town with pride. She was about to have three married children.
Gods, you don't want to imagine the conversation later on, she'd be distraught.
Your phone buzzed and you dreaded looking at the screen to see your mother's name. Luckily, it was Jin instead.
[18:01] Jinnie: where are you? [18:01] Jinnie: knocked on your door but the neighbor said you were out. [18:02] Jinnie: you're late😒 [18:02] Jinnie: I'm going to have them deduct your pay this month for making me wait [18:03] You: I'm sorry your highness for disappointing you, please forgive this servant of yours🤧 [18:03] You: was on a date [18:03] You: not that it matters anymore, I broke up with Guwon [18:04] You: does it even count? I mean, we weren't official, he didn't ask me to be his girlfriend yet.
You paused, face souring as you realized what you've just typed.
Guwon hadn't asked for your hand officially even after three dates, he had the chance on your second date during the stroll but he didn't. Despite this, he went and asked your parents for their blessings when he hadn't even asked you first.
[18:04] You: wow I just remembered that [18:04] You: then he had the audacity to propose to me!
There's a pause in between his usually instant replies and you had an inkling he's already spreading the gossip around the group somehow.
[18:08] Jinnie: wow there's a LOT to unpack there [18:08] Jinnie: but worry not [18:08] Jinnie: I'll have Jimin get us the strongest drink there is for later [18:09] Jinnie: we'll drink that sorrow away and you're going to tell me what the hell you meant by proposing while not being official [18:10] You: I don't think I should tell you that… [18:10] You: considering… ya know [18:11] You: also don't you guys have an early schedule tomorrow?🤨 [18:12] Jinnie: bold of u to assume I don't want hear how massive of a failure he is [18:12] Jinnie: nothing better than hearing your enemy’s downfall😌 [18:13] Jinnie: also what do you mean ‘you guys’??? [18:13] Jinnie: you're literally our make-up artist!
You scoffed at the message but before you could type up a reply, the notification from your uber app popped out to inform you about your driver now waiting outside the library and you walked out.
[18:23] You: and just because I'm your make-up artist, doesn't mean I should let you all get away with this [18:23] You: and I won't even drink much :pp [18:24] Jinnie : if I ever see you stumbling around the house, you owe me 100000 [18:25] You: WOW [18:25] You: AREN'T YOU RICH ALREADY???? [18:25] Jinnie: money is money😌 [18:26] Jinnie: just get ur ass over here already before I add more zeros to the bet
The smell of Jin’s cooking, both spicy and something savory, welcomed you first before the sound of sizzles did. At the sound of the door closing, Jin appears round the corner with an apron hung from his neck and a tong stained with red bean paste in the other.
Despite the disappointed look he's going for, reminiscent of a mother who caught her daughter coming home past curfew, the relief you feel upon seeing his handsome face after earlier was palpable and the knots in your stomach loosened.
“I should have your pay deducted for showing up late.”
You winced. “Sorry boss, can I appeal for a heartbreak discount on that?”
“Only if you give me a hug and cry on my shoulder.”
He opened his arms wide, plush lips widening into a smile when you approached to wrap your arms around his torso. The fabric of his sweatshirt was soft and the scent of new laundry overtook his usual scent of freshly baked cakes and gentle vanilla perfume, it almost made you boneless in his hold. Moreso when he started stroking your head while the other ran up and down your back with his palm, fingers still wrapped around the tongs.
He didn't pull away despite the awkward position with him bending down and practically melting against your smaller form. In your years of being friends, you could never recall Seokjin being the first to pull away from a hug and once more, you're grateful for that.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“I’ll do it while cooking, we might burn whatever you're cooking if I told you all about it here.”
He shook his head, his rubbing motions on your back turning into gentle pats. “We can just order it online if it does, I even bet that they'll still eat it even if it was. Hoba was relentless today.”
His nails raked through your scalp and you resisted the urge to shiver.
“He was being an ass towards you guys. Then when I defended you all, he accused me of sleeping around.”
His first instinct was to curse the man down to his ancestors who bred with each other until he was born, but stopped himself when he realized what he's about to say and cleared his throat.
If his arms coiled tighter around you, you only leaned into him further.
“Normally I would say "I told you so" but I know Yoongi has it covered later. So I'll just say—"
"Don't you dare. Jin don’t you dare finish that sentence."
"I knew it."
He let out a cry when your hand slapped his arm but it quickly dissolved into a fit of squeaky laughter and he pushed your head back under his chin before you could even continue hitting him. Hand continuing their petting as you let out an annoyed groan.
“My mom was so excited! God. I hate that bastard for disappointing me and her. She was sending me links to wedding planners and dressmakers because apparently he was supposed to take me to Jeju tomorrow and propose.”
He stills in your arms, the hand in your hair stopping its motion as his breath hitched in his chest. It took him a moment before he recollected himself and continued to pat your head, pressing a kiss on top of your crown.
“I'm sure auntie will understand, I know that she would've wanted you to find a good man like she and your sister did.”
A voice at the back of your head told you he was referring to himself but you threw the thought away as soon as it went.
“Personally, I would've taken the ticket and ditch him.” He laughed and you hit his arm with a barely concealed grin. “All I'm saying is that free things should be used and if it's gifted then better! You get to decide how to use it so refund it!”
“I don't think it's that easy.”
“Just say Kim Seokjin of BTS asked for a refund and they'll immediately accept it.”
Pulling away, you playfully rolled your eyes at him, earning you one last laugh as you walked to the kitchen where the sizzles of the food being fried on the pan had long been muted. Jin followed you with an onslaught of words spilling from his lips, justifying and detailing how he would've done in your place as you placed your bag down on the island counter before reaching for the spare apron.
Hearing his rants filling the silence made it easier to relax, made forgetting how upset you were at Guwon a walk in the park.
It was familiar and his voice, despite his fiery indignation, was oddly comforting.
Soon enough, your conversation halts and you both position yourself over the counter, following his orders mindlessly; which is mostly dicing the vegetables and the slabs of meat he marinated last night in soy sauce and spices.
You found the repetitive motions of chopping soothing and silently thanked the man now hovering over the saucepan, gently stirring the seaweed soup.
As if sensing your eyes boring holes on the back of his head, his ears reddened and he looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze.
“W-what is it? Wh-why are you looking at me like that?”
“Just admiring how huge your shoulders are and how reliable you are.”
You recalled how dearly he cared for his group despite the exhaustion from practicing singing and dancing the whole day. Despite being the youngest in his family, Jin took on the mantle of the oldest brother in the group easily and selflessly provided for his members alongside Yoongi and Namjoon. If it were anybody, you were sure the boys would've been sick or had long given up, especially when the company was about to file bankruptcy in their earlier years.
From the bone shattering dances, exhausting practices and routines stretching from dawn till dusk, you were thankful Seokjin was there to catch the others when they fall.
It was a hard task nobody would've assumed since selfishness is a built-in trait of a human yet Seokjin proved you wrong when he stayed up every night despite the muscle cramps and exhaustion weighing his bones to cook for his members, taking the role of the eldest like it was a second nature despite being the youngest in his family.
He barked out a half-hearted laugh as his red ears brightened from the compliment. “I already know that of course!”
“Thank you for everything, Jin.”
His face crumpled when he laughed bashfully, the bright hue in his ears crawling to dusk his cheeks as well. It didn't take long before he recovered and like clockwork, in reaction to being flustered by compliments, he got defensive and raised the saucer threateningly at you.
“Ya! If you're planning to compliment me, at least be original! I'm done hearing about how wide my shoulders are from ARMY and how reliant I am from the others! We've been together for years, do better and be original with your compliments!”
It was a joke, obviously.
But staring at the older man childishly brandishing his cooking utensil like a bludgeoning weapon, you couldn't help but ponder about what truly pulled you into him only to realize that you've never truly dove deeper than surface level details. It was disappointing to find out how shallow you've been when expressing your appreciation for the man.
Like he said, you've always pointed out how reliable he is but never have you pointed out the small things such as the warm food he claimed have been extras and the hot soups sectioned off for you on cold days.
He was the first to approach you on the first day despite being the member who mostly kept to himself, asking you if you wanted to celebrate their Rookie of the Year win with them instead of the rowdy staff behind you.
The first one to build a bridge leading to this deep companionship you had with the rest of the members, have you really never thanked him for that?
“You're so caring and humble despite your background and where you are right now. If it was anybody else, they would've left the boys to fend for themselves once they were able to yet you didn't stop cooking for them, for us. I don't think I have ever met a man so down to earth and as loving as you are,” You paused. “Well, except Jimin but if you want something more original I'd say I love your hands even when you think they're weird because they—”
You didn't even realize Jin crossed the distance between you both until his hands clasped around your lips, silencing you completely.
Unlike earlier with only his ears blushing, his cheeks now glowed red, the flushed skin spreading down to his neck, continuing past the collar of his dark blue pajamas. When your eyes meet, you find his glistening with unshed tears no doubt touched by your hastily put together declaration of your appreciation for him.
When it was clear you wouldn't continue your rant, his arms fell to your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace.
His violent heartbeats thudding against his chest was the first thing you've heard before you registered the stuttered exhales and his gentle saccharine scent filling your senses, clouding your brain completely. For a moment, it was just you and him in the kitchen, hugging a little longer than friends should be.
But then again, since when have you guys ever drawn the line on how platonic touches should last?
“God… You gotta stop doing that.”
“I'm just following what you told me like a good dongsaeng and I think I did exceedingly well on it. Does that guarantee a deduction on my pay deduction?”
There's an odd, invisible weight that lifted off of you, something you didn't even realize you were carrying. But there's also a tinge of guilt pinching the edges of your heart.
Jin was the first to approach you, and the first to confess four years ago. He was all shy looks and sweet smiles, his sweet words accompanied by a bouquet of flowers that must've cost him more than he could've gotten from being an idol of a new group.
When Jin loves, he gives his all and doesn't think twice to give half of himself as well. In a way, he and Yoongi were alike, just with different approaches.
He was open and unapologetic while Yoongi was subtle and often silent.
His laugh twinkled in your ears but it dwindled later on, as if he remembered something towards the end of his mirth. “You're driving me crazy, how am I supposed to move on when you're this lovely?”
Hearing him confirm your suspicion about his crush—is it even called that at this point?—relieved you from an unknown anxiety most likely sparked by Jungkook's words a few nights ago. Why are you even relieved hearing him still liking you when all you've done is hurt him?
“You're such an idiot, you know that?”
“Love makes you do the stupidest thing but I don't think I've ever regretted ever falling for you.”
He pulls away, a gentler, softer smile now tugging his lips up.
“God, you made me sappy! My god, my soup!”
Even without the warmth of his embrace, you could feel it radiate in the small space of the kitchen. You continued your work as Jin fuzzed about the seaweed soup behind you, bathing in the domesticity of it all.
Your phone vibrates loudly in your bag on the island counter. Wiping your hand on your apron, you opened it to see Jimin’s messages.
[18:56] Mimi: seokjin hyung told me to buy the strongest alcohol [18:57] Mimi: any idea why he’s being weird? [18:57] You: I’ll tell jin that you called him weird [18:57] You: but yes [18:57] You: I’ll tell you all later why [18:58] Mimi: 🤨 [18:58] Mimi: not if I get you drunk in the first ten minutes [18:58] You: I’d like to see you try, pretty boy
Your phone vibrated again. Namjoon had texted you, seeing the preview you rolled your eyes.
[18:59] Joonie: Seokjin hyung didn’t say but I already figured it out [18:59] Joonie: You'd hear enough from Yoongi hyung later but [18:58] Joonie: I told you so [18:58] You: I hope you trip and fall on shit🥰 [18:59] Joonie: Love you too, noona😁 [18:59] You: blocked🚫
“I'm not seeing enough chopping, young lady. Get back to your station!” Jin jokingly scolds. With a laugh, you return to your spot.
By the time some of the boys arrived—except Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung, no doubt pre-gaming somewhere—it was already ten and some of the dishes were plated, ready to be eaten in the dining room. If it wasn't for both your and Jin's advanced thinking to ready the bowl of rice and their plates beforehand, they would have starved to death as Yoongi dramatically puts it before blaming Hoseok for draining them out the whole day.
The man in question just laughed in response before shrugging and rebuking their ‘accusations’, saying it wasn't even that hard. To this, Yoongi grumbled under his breath and Namjoon rolled his eyes.
A few minutes later, the maknaes entered, cheeks all flushed except for Jimin who was holding up a bag full of canned alcohol as if it was game from an all-day hunt.
You thanked Jimin silently for drinking the birthday boy tipsy enough to make the dinner energetic instead of the awkwardness you thought it'd be due to what happened a few days ago. There's fleeting eyes you've caught in between jokes he made, either pouring with adoration or longing, you tried to not to pay it much mind.
But of course, the alcohol pouring could only go for so long before you're all lounging in the living room to talk about anything that comes to mind. It was half an hour short from the clock tickling to twelve, signifying Jungkook's actual birthday.
The conversation started off tame with Taehyung questioning the animals who sleep standing to something more elaborate with Yoongi asking everyone's opinion about some decrypt conspiracy theory surrounding the rich of the west. It was all fun and games when Taehyung, lost in his own mind running with the most random thought, sluggishly pointed at you and asked:
“Wh-why aren't you checking your phone? G-Guwon hyung haven't been texting you yet?”
Many heads turned to you who was practically boneless in between a tipsy Hoseok and a still sober Yoongi. You didn't even need to look to know the look of concern Jin was throwing your way.
But everything was hazy, your head throbbing from the alcohol. The words slipped past your lips before you could think about it.
“We parted ways… He accused me of sleeping around when I said I didn't want to go on a trip with him tomorrow ‘cause I didn't want to skip Jungkookie's birthday.”
Hoseok patted your shoulder and Yoongi nodded, face indifferent as usual. Despite the reaction of the boys on both sides, not everyone in the circle held the same opinion it seems.
“You didn't have to decline it, noona. You-you’ve been with us for years, missing one wouldn't hurt me much.”
Jungkook's voice was softer as if he had sobered up from the revelation and you waved him away.
“What are you saying? I couldn't leave when we weren't alright.” You glimpsed at Jin before continuing. “Besides, he was planning to propose and I'm glad he couldn't anymore.”
In your drunken mind, the information didn't carry much weight but the pin drop silence following your words did, you guessed that it must've been. However, it didn't last long when Taehyung jumped up to his feet and punched the air as if Korea just scored the final score in FIFA.
The boys look at him with wide eyes, shocked by his reaction. Jimin recovers and tries to tug him down but a drunk Taehyung is determined, with a will stronger than a monk's resilience and patience, no one could stop him from doing what he wanted.
And that was bumping his glass on your forehead, a little harder than it should've been if he was sober and you reel back, a hand over your forehead.
“Noona! you're free again! Do you know what that means?!”
“Ok that's enough for you tonight. Let's get you to bed.” Jimin says, chuckling awkwardly as he stands behind his best friend, wrapping his arms around his waist before dragging him away.
“Why? Can't I just congratulate noona from recognizing something was off instead of ignoring it like most do? Noona,” He turned to you, bottom lip jutted out. “It's not bad that I'm celebrating right?”
Seokjin’s laugh was nervous when he rose to usher the man away as well. “Alright, lets all calm down so we don't accidentally say something while drunk.”
“Fuck yeah! I-I don’t even know why I even believed his lies, he’s a lawyer for fucks sake!”
“Not that it ever stopped you before. I still don't understand why you couldn't have married one of us instead.” Jungkook cuts in, suddenly irritated.
Somehow, the tension in the room grew tenfold and everyone sits up, alert and ready to interfere if their youngest decides to let the alcohol take control of him. Your brain clears once it registered the annoyance in his voice, heart dropping to the soles of your feet.
“Jungkook—”
“I just think it's a bullshit excuse and you know it. You told that to Jin-hyung four years ago and have repeated it ever since. We’re all adults now, we can handle a little rejection and who’s to say we can’t date when we’re the only idol running the company. You say it's because you don’t want to choose but aren’t you just instilling false hope in us?”
He stood as he grew more agitated but Jin pushed him down, eyes stern as he stared down at their youngest. Seeing the conflict brew between them, the growing guilt built by years of spending time with them reawakened.
It tied your stomach in a knot and felt like a building had dropped onto your heart.
As if sensing your emotions, Yoongi’s hand found your shoulder to give it a squeeze.
“You’re not thinking straight so stop it,” Jin excuses as he turns to you with an apologetic smile. “He’s just drunk, he doesn’t—”
“I know what I’m saying and I think you’re being too biased here hyung!”
“Jungkook…” Hoseok calls from next to you, voice low, a warning.
“You too! She’s also your friend, why aren’t you pointing out how she’s just playing with us? Why are you only calling me out?”
“Because you’re being a stupid drunk right now, Jungkook. Stand down .” Yoongi ordered, voice firm and warning. His arms are crossed as he stared their youngest down but the maknae wasn’t intimidated by it, if anything, the fire in the older man’s eyes only fueled the anger boiling within him.
In years you’ve watched over them, never once has Yoongi scolded their youngest past Run BTS contents, leaving the reprimanding to their oldest and leader. For him to call him out and seeing them grow agitated by each other’s presence, dread loomed over you with your nightmares threatening to come true.
This isn’t how tonight’s party was supposed to go.
“Isn’t there anyone who’d agree with me at how absurd all of this is?!” His head snapped at Namjoon who’s watching with a careful eye. “Hyung, surely you can also see it!”
Throughout the exchange, Namjoon had sat back and watched the interaction from the sidelines instead of interfering on the first hint of a fight breaking out. Even when the situation becomes a little aggressive, he stays silent but you don’t doubt that he’d be the first to stand if the disagreement becomes volatile and inching towards physical.
That's what he always has done, observed and let the high rise of emotions eventually tides down to a calm on their own. He's a leader, he's supposed to be fair and to do so, he must first understand both sides before taking action. He also trusts his own team to temper their own ire after years of being together.
But now that he's forced to join the argument, he sighed and stood. Seokjin stepped away as he approached their youngest with both hands placed on his shoulders to sit him back down.
Obediently, Jungkook follows.
“While I do see where you’re coming from, I think it's a bit unfair that you’re blaming her for being scared.” Jungkook opens his mouth but a firm shake of Namjoon’s head shuts him up. “Don’t start again. There’s a power imbalance here kid. If her choosing someone could cause a problem, we’d get off scot free but not her. In the eyes of the company, she’s disposable—”
“But she’s not.”
“She is. In their eyes at least. By having her around causing problems for us, she’s nothing but a thorn in their side that they should remove. If she had dated one of us and eventually broke up, it would cause an awkwardness and riff between guys especially if it ended on a bad note and BigHit won't stand for it. You know how important this job is for her, right?”
They stared at each other for a long while, both unrelenting in silence. You all waited with bated breath, Namjoon was the only one who could diffuse the situation and if he fails, then who else could possibly calm the maknae down?
Turning to the clock, you bit your lip at the time.
It was nearing Jungkook's actual birthday, three minutes short before both hands ticked to twelve.
Which meant it would have to start during the denouement of an argument. The thought planting discomfort in your stomach. Such a happy celebration shouldn't be welcomed like this.
In the midst of raised voices and pointing fingers, Taehyung has completely sobered up from where he sat between Jimin’s thighs, staring beady eyed at the situation in his friend’s arms. Sensing your gaze, he turned to you with a sheepish, apologetic smile when Jungkook's heavy sigh broke through the silence.
His head fell to his chest as Namjoon removed his hands from his shoulders yet his eyes remained on their youngest’s hunched form.
“You get what we're trying to say now, do you?”
“Y-yeah…”
“Anything you want to say, gguk?” Namjoon was talking to him like he was a kindergarten teacher and you both were kids who fought on the sandbox for the shovel, warm and understanding but the disappointment in his tone is clear as day.
Jungkook doesn't reply but he shoots up to his feet, surprising Hoseok next to you, with eyes still trained on the floor.
When he did look up to meet your gaze, it was brief and cut off by a deep bow. You reached your hands out, trying to stop him from doing so but Yoongi took one of your hands and pinned them down between his and your thighs.
Jungkook never had to bow for you and it felt wrong seeing him bent down to apologize.
“I-I’m sorry noona, I—” He trails off.
In his speechlessness in a room full of people who—while understanding where he comes from—stood behind you, he clams up and then in a flash, he’s gone, bolting from the living room and skipping up the stairs. The sound of his heavy footfalls echoing like the clock ticking down to his birthday.
The argument has been dissolved, yet it left a bitter taste on your tongue, it made you feel queasy having everyone back you up without reprimanding you as well. It was true, what Jungkook said.
Weren't you practically leading them on by not choosing anyone? No matter how unintentional it must be, if he thinks that way then maybe everyone else in the group does, just silently.
You turned to the clock again. A minute closer to the next day.
Frustration made you want to pull your hair out but the long, lithe fingers that have entangled with yours in the middle of it all, forbade you from doing so. As if he could hear the internal debate between logic and emotions, Yoongi gave you a comforting squeeze.
But it didn't feel right, you shouldn't be sitting on your ass while Jungkook blamed himself for expressing his own opinion, sure it was a bit aggressive but you understood his frustration.
“Jungkook!” You called out, rising to your feet to follow him when Yoongi tightened his hold on your wrist and shook his head.
“He needs time to process, leave him be.”
Yet despite this, you shrugged his hold off and followed the youngest’s heavy footfalls upstairs and presumably into his room. You caught onto him in the hallway, with the door to his room opened and half of his body already inside.
“Jungkook, let us talk.”
“I-I don't want to see you right now, noona please.”
The desperation to correct the wrongs gives you a short burst of energy and you catch his wrist.
“Jungkook please, I—”
You heard the joyful chime of the clock downstairs before you heard the sweet jingles of bells.
Then you felt it.
Electric jolts shoot up from your connected hands, waking every cell and your mind awake and you almost keel over from the wave of relieving warmth washing over your body. There’s now a low hum accompanying the bells chiming in the background, the soft harmony between them sending shivers down your spine.
You've thought of first meetings like those scenes in Hollywood movies where a kaleidoscope of colors explodes behind your eyelids, like fireworks celebrating the precious moment where the protagonists finally meet and fireworks shoot up to the sky. They talked of a brief moment of reprieve from reality, the world slowing down and feeling the most calmed you've ever been with your soulmate in hand.
Like your soul finally recognizing its pair and suddenly, everyone became a blur in the background.
Yet when you stared back at Jungkook's mirrored astonishment, your stomach bottomed out.
Because no way in hell, after all this time, you're soulmates.
#bts x fem!reader#bts x reader#bts x reader poly#bts x y/n#bts x you#soulmate au#kim namjoon x reader#kim seokjin x reader#min yoongi x reader#jung hoseok x reader#park jimin x reader#kim taehyung x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#namjoon x reader#seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader#ot7 x reader
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I’m Not What You Need (But I Am)
Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: “When you sit there/acting like you know me/acting like you only brought me here to get below me”
You have a concern to bring to Miguel, but when he hears what you really think of him, he doesn’t let you off so easily
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, kind of missionary idk what to call it, dominant Miguel, brat taming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, choking, sort of strangers to lovers, maybe a little bit of a hatefuck if you squint, reader is a Spider person, def a bit out of character
Wordcount: 3.5k
Find on Ao3 here :3
"Why are you coming to me with such trivial annoyances?" Miguel O'Hara asked you from the platform of his lab, at least ten feet above you. He was tapping on various screens, not giving you eye contact. It felt purposeful, pointed.
"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to know when fights broke out. Keeping the peace and all that." You felt yourself growing warm, anxiety fluttering in your stomach.
"What I want," he said, his tone growing short. "Is for people to sort out their own bullshit, so I can worry about what's important. Which, if you haven't noticed, is much bigger than you and I and some stupid fight in the lobby."
As soon as he said it, you knew he was right. But he was still being an asshole. You were only trying to help.
You put your hands up in defense. "I just thought you'd wanna know." Then whispered under your breath "douchebag," as you turned to walk away.
But your progress was halted by something tugging at your wrist. You looked down to see what it was, and closed your eyes, quietly cursing yourself. Neon red webbing.
"You wanna run that by me again?" Miguel asked.
You swallowed a lump in your throat. "Nothing, it was nothing. I'll just leave."
You tried to pull free, but he was reeling you in, like a helpless fish on a hook. "Oh, no," he said, sounding somewhat amused. "No, I heard you. 'Douchebag,' eh? Not very creative. But…" he paused when you were closer, close enough that he could look directly down at you. "I want to hear you say it again. Face to face, this time."
You frowned. "How can we be 'face to face' when you're so high above me?"
He wagged a finger at you. "You've got a point there." In a sudden flash of tingling, your Spider sense triggered. But Miguel was too fast, he'd been doing this for far longer than you had. In an instant, you were wrapped in neon red and being hoisted upward onto the platform. He planted you right in front of him, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "Happy?"
You huffed. Why was he like this? A self-satisfied grin played at the edges of his plush lips as he scrutinized you with bloodshot eyes. Finally registering how close he was, and how huge he was, you started turning red. He could throw you around like you weighed nothing, couldn't he? He had just lifted you up here with hardly any effort. You'd never thought about another Spider like this. Sure, you were all strong, but there was something in Miguel's upper body that you couldn't free from your thoughts, something in those massive shoulders, something-
"Well?" He asked, breaking your trance. "I don't have all day."
You met his eyes. They looked so tired. You didn't want to insult him anymore. You wanted to leave and pretend like the thoughts you had about him never existed.
But you knew what he needed to hear.
"Douchebag," you repeated.
He smiled, and it was humorless. "It's nice to know that this is what people think of me. That I did this for all of us, and everyone in our worlds. And the word that comes to mind when people talk to me is…?" He raised an eyebrow prompting you.
"...Douchebag."
"That's right!" He pointed a finger at you. "I don't ask for much. I ask for people to listen and respect the operation. And that means respecting my time, too, eh? No more coming right to me with petty fights that people can solve on their own."
You just stared back up at him, hardly registering his words. Respect time, no more fights, whatever. His hair looked so soft.
"Got it?" He asked, starting to sound frustrated again.
You nodded.
"I need to hear you say it."
"G-got it."
"Good." He patted your shoulder. What an odd gesture. It was very nearly caring. "Let's get you out of here." He flexed his hand, talons coming free. He quickly swiped at the webbing he had wrapped you in, the strands snapping and falling to the floor in shreds.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. His brow furrowed. "Listen, I know I'm scary, but I'm just doing my job."
You shook your head. "I'm- I'm not scared."
"Are you not? Dios mio, I can hear your blood pumping."
His heightened senses were going to be your death sentence. The longer he stood staring at you, the worse your thoughts became. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away from his attention. You crossed your arms, trying to make yourself small so he would stop looking at you.
He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you wanna be friends or something?"
No, you thought, I want us to be something different.
Despite your best efforts, you blurted out, "no, in all honesty, I've never really liked you that much." Why did you say that? What was wrong with you?
He cocked his head, his eyes widening, processing what you just said. He started to nod. "Oh, wow. Great. Thank you so much. What a productive conversation. And you're still here because…?"
"Because you getting the last word in is infuriating to me." You couldn't stop yourself. You knew this was bad, but you couldn't stop.
"How do you think I feel? You came here for the sole purpose of bothering me and now you won't leave me the shock alone." He pointed at you again, forefinger lightly jabbing your collarbone. "You. Can. Leave. This is my lab, you little brat." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and you could just barely see his elongated canines, gleaming and sharp in the light of the lab's computer screens.
Oh no.
You stood there, just blinking at him. You've never seen someone so annoyed looking so attractive at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair.
He suddenly started, the anger from his face vanishing, confusion taking its place. "Oh yeah?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "That's why your heart is pounding?"
Fuck.
"What, uh… what do you-"
"Don't play dumb with me.” He placed a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I can smell that you're turned on. Is that why you came here to bother me? So you could gawk at me? And maybe I'd fuck you if you were lucky."
You backed up, nearly slipping off the edge of the raised platform. Miguel reached out and caught your hand, pulling you in close to him. Unconsciously, you splayed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His body was so warm and inviting, and you were drawn into it like a little planet circling a blazing sun.
What was happening, what were you doing?
"Is that what you thought?" He asked, seeming to echo the questions you asked yourself, his voice growing more quiet as he looked down at you.
You quickly raised your hands away from him, closing them into loose fists and crossing your arms again. "No," you said, truthfully.
"But you're thinking it now." He nodded. "Aren't you?"
After a pause, you nodded too.
"I really need to hear you say it." He probed.
"I'm…. I'm thinking about it now."
"Oh, are you? Thinking about what?"
You swore under your breath, doing a poor job of hiding a scowl. You should've known he wasn't going to make it easy for you.
"Thinking about you fucking me." You grimaced after admitting it, waiting for him to mock you and disown you.
He smiled. "That's funny. I thought I was a douchebag."
"Fuck you, man!" You threw your arms up into the air, turning around and preparing to hop down from the platform.
“No no no, come on, now,” he said, grasping your wrist with a large, warm hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “Why don’t you give me a chance to change your mind?”
You looked him in the eyes, and there was a small spark there. You sighed, unable to deny the reaction your body had to him. You wanted him. And he was offering himself to you. What reality was this where that was even possible? Not ten minutes ago, you were hardly closer than strangers. “Okay,” you said, offering him a small grin. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“Oh, I won’t.” In another swift movement, he swept you up into his arms and laid you down on your back on the lab floor. He was above you, arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. You could hardly see anything past those vast shoulders. You swallowed. He raised one hand to your head, petting your hair. “Look at that. You really are so pretty. Couldn’t help thinking it even when you were pissing me off earlier.”
You furrowed your brow. “I thought you wanted to change my mind, asshole, is this-”
He cut you off as his hand lowered, skating down your side and brushing against your breast before traveling even further. You exhaled shakily, trying to prepare yourself for this. Miguel O'Hara was touching you. Miguel O'Hara was going to fuck you.
When he reached the curvature of your hips, he fondly squeezed, humming to himself. "Soft… so soft. You wouldn't want an asshole like me to eat you out, would you?"
Your brain short-circuited at how blatant he was. "No, I- I would, I really fucking would, Miguel."
"Oh, are we on a first name basis, now?" He hooked a clawed finger into the fabric of your suit, ripping a huge gash into it so he could access you. That… that was your good suit. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself from quipping back at him as he scooted downward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. You threw your head back in anticipation, screwing your eyes shut. How was this real? How was-
You gasped as his tongue made gentle contact with your sex, slowly and carefully licking a long swipe from your opening to your clit, like he was savoring the first taste of you.
"You taste even better than you smell, amor."
Fuck, he was savoring you. You trembled beneath him, your hands tentatively reaching down to tangle with his hair. And it was even softer than you thought it would be.
"That's it," he encouraged. "Hang onto me."
You listened, your grip on his hair tightening. As if that were his cue, he brought his tongue back to your aching pussy, lapping at the wetness that was all but dripping from you. Your body immediately felt too hot on the metal floor, and you were convinced that you were beginning to melt under the warmth of his tongue. The almost-penetration was sending you spiraling; he was giving you nothing that you needed while somehow simultaneously answering your every secret desire. You needed that mouth on your clit. Your greedy, aroused body needed more, more. You had him all to yourself and he was teasing you. It wasn't fair.
You whimpered as you gripped soft locks of his hair, waiting for him to take the plunge. Waiting…. And waiting. But he just kept lapping contentedly at your entrance, just barely dipping his tongue inside. The feeling was pleasant but infuriating. What was he trying to do? Did he want you to beg for it?
Oh.
…He couldn't be serious.
But that was the only conclusion you could reach. After all, he'd been asking to hear you say things this entire encounter, prompting you to be vocal. All you had to do was swallow your pride.
"M-Miguel…?" You asked, your voice quiet.
He stopped, picking his head up slightly, looking at you from under his thick brows. "Mm? What is it?"
"Please, um… please…." Your voice caught in your throat. Why was this so difficult?
"Oh, you're begging me now? What could you possibly be begging for… Isn't this what you wanted?"
You narrowed your eyes as he held your gaze with that lackadaisical expression.
"Please," you started, feeling humiliated. "Please suck on my clit."
"Good girl. All you had to do was ask." In no time at all, his mouth was back on you. He zeroed in on your clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on it just as you needed. The feeling was so intense and you couldn't suppress any of the noises that escaped you. And the noises he made didn't help in the slightest. He was humming as he worked your clit, the gentle vibrations of his voice adding to the overstimulation. He stopped for a moment to instead use his tongue, and the pointed attention was delicious.
"How are you feeling, amor?" He asked without fully pulling away from you, his voice slightly lisping from the contact.
"Good," you gasped, feeling like you were getting close to the edge. "So, so good. Please keep going."
"Tell me when you're going to cum."
"Yes, yes I will."
He continued his efforts, mercilessly devouring you, a cacophony of wet sounds rising to meet your ears. You could feel your orgasm building, your body singing. He was playing you like an instrument. That warm, pulsating feeling was building deep inside your core, threatening to burst apart with every second.
Your grip on his hair tightened. "Miguel, I'm- I'm gonna-"��
Your back started arching and you closed your eyes as… nothing happened. He pulled his head away from you. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you from between your legs, one of his eyebrows raised.
"Wha- what?"
He smirked. "Oh, this? It's nothing... It's just that douchebags usually don't care about making women cum."
Your jaw dropped open. This again? You gritted your teeth, your clit swollen and thrumming with your pulse. You needed release.
"I'm sorry." You said, your voice desperate.
He raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, wow, that was fast." His tone was so matter-of-fact.
"I'm sorry for calling you a douchebag and an asshole, I was wrong about you. Please let me cum." You spat the words out so quickly that you hardly registered what you were saying.
"How could I say no to that?" He returned to you, gripping your thighs more firmly than he had before, shamelessly moaning into you as you started to curl up off the hard metal floor. Your orgasm was so close, it was right within your grasp. Your breath started going ragged as you held onto him for dear life. In a white hot burst of pleasure, you came, swearing loudly as Miguel drank up every bit of you, letting you ride your orgasm out on his skillful tongue. He slowed down right as you did, matching your pace perfectly until you were a heaving mess on the floor in front of him.
"My turn, now," his voice came through the fog, it sounded distant. But you could feel strong arms lifting you up and all but dropping you onto your back on one of the lab's computer consoles, its screen turning off in response. He dismissed a section of his high tech suit, his manhood coming free. You couldn't help but gawk at him. His body was unreal. From the small window he created, you could see hard lines of muscle carved into golden skin. Your head started spinning again.
He began pumping his hard cock as he looked down at you, spreading your legs further open with his free hand. "See how easy it is to get what you want when you aren't being a brat?" The way his muscles flexed through his tight suit while he worked himself was maddening. You wanted- no, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him inside you.
You nodded your head, answering his question.
"So, tell me what you want."
"I want you to fuck me," you answered, still panting from your orgasm. "I want to feel you so badly. Please, Miguel."
"You're a fast learner," he purred, bringing his cock to your folds and lubricating himself on the mess you two had made. He slid over your slick entrance, his head touching your aching clit as he moved up and down. "I'll fuck this pretty cunt for you, since you asked so nicely."
He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you, inch by thick inch. You moaned, the feeling of finally being full was luscious, he was pressing at your walls from all angles. At last, when he was in up to the hilt, he stayed there for a moment while his large hands found your waist.
"My God, look at you. You took all of me, and so shocking well. You," he exhaled, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. "You feel so good."
"Thank you," you whispered, breathless. He was praising you. It was… nice to hear. Stubbornness be damned.
He chuckled to himself. "Please and thank you? You really do learn fast. You've earned this, amor." And with that, he pulled himself out of you, slamming back in with a hard slap. Over and over, he fucked you with the entire length of his cock, hitting spots inside of you that you weren't sure even existed. "Lemme hear you, I wanna hear it all."
You obeyed. "O-oh my God, Miguel, fuck. It's… it's so good. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you."
Thanking him fueled his fire; his grip on your waist tightening, red eyes sparkling wildly. "Good girl, that's it… watching my cock disappear inside of you… it's making me crazy. You like getting fucked by someone you hated before all this? You wanna get filled up by someone you don't even like?"
"Yes, please." Your back arched into him, the pressure from his unwavering thrusts overwhelming you. The feeling was impossibly perfect, your body tingling from your head to your toes. He really did fit inside of you so well.
"You'll get it, baby. Keep being good for me, you'll get it."
As he continued, his hands roamed your body. Groping at your breasts, resting on the soft slope of your stomach. You grabbed one of his traveling hands, a rogue feeling overtaking you as you brought it up to your throat.
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Y-yeah? You want me to choke you?” He sounded excited.
“P-please,” you huffed, grabbing onto his forearm.
“Holy shit, you’re something else.” He began applying gentle pressure to your airway as he kept fucking you. It was the perfect amount of constriction; suppressing your breath intake just enough for your head to feel pleasantly airy. He was good at that, why was he so good at that?
Between the way he was pounding you and the way he was choking you, your muscles started to bear down on him.
"Yes, yes, squeeze that cock. Good girl. You’re gonna get what you want.”
You clenched down on him, your orgasm rocking you to your core as he fucked you through it. It hit you in giant waves, crashing over you and pulling you into the undertow. You felt completely drunk on it. The warmth of it was everywhere in your body, all the way up to your fingertips. Your head swam, your eyes rolling back into your head. Miguel swore to himself, his tempo becoming more irregular. He released your throat, hands flying down to grip the console. You thought you could hear it cracking.
“God, you’re tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”
“Yes,” you rasped, your body shaking.
He growled as he came inside of you, bearing his fangs in clenched teeth once more, and you could feel his cock twitch followed by the heat of his seed as it stuffed you full. He lingered over you, his eyes looking frenzied as his gaze flicked over your face, his chest heaving with every recovering breath.
You released a deep sigh, smiling tenderly at him. “Thank you, Miguel.”
“You, uh,” he started awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. “You earned it,” he repeated.
He took a short, unsure step back, as he pulled his length free from you. You could feel his cum leaking from you upon his release. There was so much of it.
He held his hand out to you to help you up, and you grasped it, smiling again as you got to your feet.
“I’ll clean this mess up, but you.…” He scanned your frame. “...I’ve got a pair of pants on one of the lab chairs down there.” He pointed toward a particularly cluttered section of his space. “Bringing them back would be a much better excuse to see me than a fight in the lobby.”
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#smut#my writing#ive got another one for you you sick bastards#this one was not beta read in the slightest so bear with me pls#hope you enjoy!#i will not stop the metalcore title/summary naming convention anytime soon so my condolences
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If the flirtatious lines event is still happening, I do have a little request, and this is absolutely not forced!
Could you do “You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?” With Leona x reader? Here’s a little twist, though; The reader is the one saying that to Leona! I absolutely adore the idea of Leona being super shy when in love, seeing normally tough characters be out-of-character when they have a crush is ADORABLE to me! Plus, I don’t see enough of reader being the teasing one in Leona x reader fics.
Thank you for listening, have a lovely day/night!
ooh this makes SO much sense though, I see your vision!!
summary: "you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?" type of post: short fic characters: leona additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, probably really ooc idk
It's not the first time you've run into him, and it won't be the last.
It was annoying at first; your clumsiness, and that perpetual look of confusion and awe in your eyes...
You didn't belong here.
That was the first thing Leona thought about you.
Your good nature, the way you stupidly stumbled into trouble time and time again, even that look on your face; you'd make an easy meal for any predator.
And, as luck would have it, that would be him.
Though he certainly doesn't feel like the top of the food chain now.
"Talk to them," Ruggie pesters, hovering around his boss like a fly. Leona is tempted to swat him away.
"No,"
He puts a hand on his hip. "I don't see what the big deal is. You deal with being a prince your whole life, but you get choked up at the Prefect?"
Annoying. Leona is tempted to make a rude gesture, but his social etiquette gets the best of him.
"I am not choked up, but you're going to be unless you get lost," he says in a tone far too quiet.
He's lucky that Leona is in a merciful mood today.
"Suit yourself," Ruggie shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets and heading towards the exit.
Good. Leona didn't come here to talk about the Prefect, anyway.
Of all the stupid things...
He lies back in his original position, trying to drown out the sound of your voice and get some sleep. You're here with a group, doing some potionology thing, he figures. Great.
One of your friends makes you laugh, and he feels a strange sense of jealousy.
"I'll get the poppy," you sound rather pleased with yourself.
Though, as hard as he tries, he can't seem to dislike you.
A rustle, and then another beam of sunlight hits the secluded little spot, illuminating the both of you.
"Oh!" you say, eyes wide. "Sorry, Leona. Didn't mean to disturb you."
Always so polite. He wonders if that's just for show, or if you're being genuine.
"Mhm," he hums. He can't find it within himself to tell you off. It's like he's forgotten how to speak.
And he can't look at you.
"It's not over here..." you say under your breath. You're not even doing anything and he finds you endearing. "Well... sorry again."
Ruggie's words are still fresh in his mind- the pest- and he sighs.
"Wait," Leona says, standing. "You're looking for poppy? I know where it is."
You seem to hesitate. Not a good sign. "...I don't want to trouble you..."
"It would be more rude to turn down such a generous offer," he rebuffs. That's more like it.
And, so, you follow him. It feels nice, stringing you along for once.
Leona says nothing. With anyone else, he would've made at least one comment by now- no, with anyone else, he wouldn't have offered his help in the first place.
He brings you to another part of the botanical gardens, and shows you a row of potted poppies. Crewel had the second years move them yesterday.
"Ah, here they are. Thank you!" you smile. It's almost... cute. Ugh.
He says nothing.
You collect your material, and begin the walk back with him. He can feel your eyes on him, and he can tell there's something you want to ask.
"...You don't say much,"
Great. Leona huffs. Why does he feel so hot, all of a sudden? "I just have nothing to say,"
Even he sounds unsure of what he's claiming. You raise an eyebrow, a small smile gracing your lips.
"You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?"
And you're driving me mad, he thinks, but all he can do is grunt in response.
He feels nervous. Always so nervous around you.
Leona would never admit what those words did to him, but he didn't need to. He could feel the embarrassment on his face.
You stop at the mouth of the gardens. Your friends are waiting outside.
"Thanks again," you smile. It's genuine. He can't keep eye contact with you.
"...Sure,"
"Just, ah..." you say, looking between him and your puny first year friends as they call you over. "Let me know what I can do to repay the favor, okay?"
So naive. You're practically serving yourself on a silver platter. Like he originally thought, an easy meal for any predator.
...But, for once, that predator isn't him.
And he's actually going to have to work for this.
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BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook One Shot | Teaser
Summary: You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new? Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (idk man 😂) Warnings: Smut and Explicit language (obvi lmao) a/n: I've been working on this for a while and I wanted to put out a teaser to see how well something like this would be received. It probably won't be going up for another two weeks or so since I'm trying to keep to a more manageable posting schedule so I hope you'll look forward to it! Feel free to comment down below if you'd like to be tagged! P.s. Ava is her best friend but it's pretty obvious lmao
Read the full one shot here!
"'How to bang your robot' sounds very informative" Ava giggles and I scoff, "That's not what it says dummy" I groan, thumbing through the manual until I find the most important piece of information, how to turn him on...well power him up so to say. The other part I guess I'll figure out later on when we're alone, although I'm sure she would love to watch.
I don't think I'll ever be able to understand how she can talk about things like sex so openly but I guess that's part of her twisted charm.
I brush some of the hay-like packaging off of him so the both of us can finally see what he looks like and my breath hitches once his face comes into view.
"I did a good job huh?" she says while elbowing me in the side, groaning when she hits the new tattoo I got on my ribcage the other day. "Oh shit I'm sorry! I forgot!" she says, apologizing but I brush it off as an accident and go back to inspecting him.
After taking more of the packaging off I finally find where his on switch is, which happens to be on his peck. "Really? I haven't even turned him on and I already have to violate him?" I say, hesitating for a second and then just rip the bandaid off so to say and lift his shirt up.
"Damn those abs are drool worthy" Ava whistles and I wack her in the arm, "You're not helping" I groan and find the plate that is covering the on switch, looking between him and her, contemplating on if I should go for it or not.
She nods her head, urging me to do it and after a second or two I give in and flip the switch quickly and fix his shirt so he's all covered up again. He might be a robot but I still think he deserves to be treated with respect.
Even if his whole purpose is to just fuck me senseless.
We both watch for a second and hear a few of the mechanisms start to move about before he takes his first breath. Well...kinda.
He opens his eyes and blinks a few times and I know for a fact that Ava hit it right on the head in her description. She knows me too well at this point if she was able to create a Mr. Right for me with a few clicks on her keyboard.
That or he's just very attractive to begin with.
He looks around for a second before turning his head towards me, our eyes locking for the first of many times and I can already feel my cheeks start to heat up. 'I'm fucked'
#jungkook fanfic#jungkook#fanfic#fanfiction#kpop#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#bts#kpop fanfic#ask#jungkook bts#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x original character#jungkook x oc#jungkook x y/n#jungkook and you#jungkook and reader
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Jealousy and pining. If the HSR men were quietly pining for the reader, how would they handle any sudden jealousy of someone else who is seemingly or even intentionally trying to get closer to the reader in a romantic way? Is there any confrontation? Sabotage? Or does this perceived “threat” encourage them to act on their growing affection for the reader? Or maybe they take a different approach all together, idk- lots of possibilities lol.
a/n: I fw this one. question is, how do i go about it 😟??
disclaimer: ooc blade prolly, violence, death, SA, you wear revealing clothing, not proof read. I'm sorry if this isn't what you imagined, I'm still fairly new to this. Also since I wrote so much for blade he's going to be the only one I write for IM SORRYYYYY 😭 maybe i'll write a part two with a different character.
someone's a wittle bit jealous
Blade
It took him a little while to get used your presence after you joined the Stellaron Hunters. And it took him a little while after that to fall in love with you. And since then, every day he'd find himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you.
Blade looked over at you, his brows slightly furrowed, "you don't have to do this." You looked back at Blade, raising an eyebrow, "uhh, yes I do. It's in the script Blade." He only nodded in refusal, "this is too much, even for you."
You rolled your eyes and rolled the long glove over your arm. Tonight, you wore your sexiest outfit that showed 70% of skin with long gloves. "Think of the mission, Blade. I know you might be jealous and all that, but you gotta put that aside think about what we need to do."
Him? Jealous? "Don't be ridiculous. what would I be jealous for?"
You only laughed in response, "i was only teasing," you looked at the time, "well, i gotta go. You be ready when I need you, yeah?" You smiled and blew him a kiss before turning around and leaving the shared hotel room.
Of course, that kiss did nothing to him. Why would it?
20 minutes passed and he's at the designated club. Immediately his eyes seek for you. He takes a few more steps into the club before he saw you. You sat on another mans lap, an arm wrapped around the back of his neck, your finger lightly tracing random shapes on his chest. You smiled, and giggled, and looked at him as if he was only man in the room.
Of course, Blade felt nothing as he watched the scene unfold. Why would he? This is for the mission. But even he had to admit, your acting was very extremely believable. And maybe it did make him feel...something.
For a split second, the two of you catch each other's gaze. And for that moment, your acting slipped. You no longer had that seductive stare, your expression now unreadable. You squinted and nodded your head just when the man under you diverted his gaze else where.
Blade took the hint, nodding his head in return. The rest of the mission went off without a hitch. Blade managed to make it to the electrical area, shut off the power all over the building, giving you enough time to jab the knife into the mans chest and leave the club before Blade turned the power back on.
Now back at the hotel, you're shivering and rubbing your hands over your arms. "You cold?" Blade wondered. You nodded, "no no, it's just. God, the feeling of that mans hands all over me, it's making me shiver in disgust." You cringe once more, your whole body shivering with intensity as though you were truly cold.
Wait, his hands were all over you? "What do you mean his hands were all over you?" Blade demanded. You shrugged, "Well, he...when you left his hands began to wander and he...groped me. I know that it was part of the plan to seduce him, but it seriously made me feel disgusted...and dirty."
Now Blade felt something. And the feeling spread all over his body. Not only did you have his hands all over that man, but that man was touching you in areas that Blade could only look at. And it made you feel disgusting. If Blade could go back, he would have killed that man himself.
"...disgusting." Blade mumbled, that word being the only thing you heard. And for a moment you thought he was talking about you, "e-excuse me?"
"That man is disgusting," Blade mumbled just a bit louder. He makes his way to you, "Go change." You stare up at him, his body oh-so close yours.
Unknowingly, your heart began to beat just a bit faster, though your shivering died down. It was almost like Blade close proximity warmed you up.
You nod, turning to grab some clothes from your bag and walking to the bathroom. You walk out with a warm set of pjs.
You're met with almost an entirely different room. The two twin sized beds now pushed together with multiple blankets layered on top of each other, not to mention a shirtless Blade on one side of the bed with a remote in his hand, switching between channels on the tv mounted on the wall. Next to him on the bed was a small pile of snacks, somehow all of them being your favorite.
"I was gone for like 5 minutes, how did you manage to do all of this within five minutes?" you questioned. "Sit," Blade responded. You were sat.
You threw the covers over your legs, making sure to set the pile of snacks over the blanket. You had to admit, this was extremely weird and extremely out of character for Blade. But were you complaining? Of course not. You have a shirtless Blade sitting next to you in the same bed. In your book, this is like heaven. And god, were you gonna brag when you got back to base.
"Why are you doing this?" you asked him. "Just relax," Blade responded, putting on a movie he thought would be interesting to you. And it was. You found yourself being relaxed in Blade's presence as you snacked and watched the movie.
And eventually you fell asleep. Blade notices and sighs, pulling your body downward to get your head more situated on the pillows, fluffing them. He then covered your body with the blanket, moving the opened and unopened snacked onto the nightstand. He turned off the TV and got comfortable on his side of the bed, not getting too close to your body. He didn't want you to be uncomfortable, especially after tonights encounter.
Later, you found yourself waking up. It was still dark, but you felt a pressure on the side of your body and over your stomach. You looked over to see Blade snuggled into your side with his large arm over your stomach. You stared in shock, there's no way this is actually happening, right? You and Blade snuggling in the same bed? you've got to be dreaming.
Just when you were going to attempt to move Blade over, not wanting the morning to be awkward, Blade tightened his grip on you. You slightly shivered as he breathed into your neck. No, this was definitely real.
"Never...." he mumbled. You almost coed out loud, Blade sleep talking was absolutely adorable to you. It reminded you that Blade was the same as everybody else, he wasn't devoid of all human emotion, he wasn't a machine. He was a living being just like you were. "Never again..." he mumbled once more.
You sighed and decided to leave it be. If it was going to be awkward in the morning, then so be it. You turned to embrace him, your fingers running through the shorter and longer layers of his hair.
#hsr blade#hsr blade x reader#blade x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail
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Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair
logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.
series history; Previous Chapter
portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)
possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.
pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).
you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.
“I think my name is just Tony now.”
You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.
“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”
This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.
Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.
You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”
She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”
“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”
“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”
“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”
“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”
“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”
She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”
“Good things?”
“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”
You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”
“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”
“The connection?”
“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”
“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”
She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”
Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”
“Ah. N’ then…”
“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”
She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”
“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”
“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”
You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.
“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”
You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”
She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.
Off to fix an exploded toilet.
“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”
Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.
“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.
“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”
“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”
You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”
“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”
“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”
He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”
“Not a Chef!”
“Term of Respect, Chef!”
You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.
You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.
Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.
“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.
“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”
Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”
“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”
“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”
You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”
“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”
That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”
His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...
She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”
You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”
“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.
“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?
You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”
“Did they?”
Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”
You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.
“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.
She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”
This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.
It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.
But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.
On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”
They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”
He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”
“Really gonna practice your set on me?”
He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”
You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”
“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.
When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.
“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.
“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”
He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”
“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.
You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.
“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”
The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.
He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”
“I’m doing okay, yeah.”
Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.
You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”
He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”
Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.
He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.
“What the fuck?”
Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.
“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.
“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”
“In The Beef!”
“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”
He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”
He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.
“Well?” You start.
“Well?” He astutely adds.
You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”
“The thing?”
You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.
“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”
“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”
You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.
Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.
“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”
He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.
He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”
“What?”
“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.
He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.
He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”
“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.
“Huh?”
You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”
You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.
You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”
You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…
“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.
“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”
“Should get Fak on that, then.”
“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”
You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”
“If you’ll take it.”
“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”
“How’s that going?”
You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”
“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.
“How’s the second day open going?”
“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”
You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”
“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”
“You don’t seem happy about that.”
“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”
Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—
The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”
Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”
There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.
The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.
“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”
“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”
He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”
You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.
Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.
You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”
Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.
Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.
Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.
After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”
She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.
It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…
“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.
I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”
“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”
Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”
She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”
“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.
“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.
“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”
You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”
You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”
“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.
Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.
You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”
“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”
He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”
He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”
“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”
He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”
“Well?”
“Do the thing.”
You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”
“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.
“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”
He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”
Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.
“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.
He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”
You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”
He squints. “…How’re you—”
“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.
“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”
With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.
“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”
He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.
“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”
He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.
“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.
“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”
You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”
He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”
“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”
“Heard.”
You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”
He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”
“It is.”
“Oh.”
“But in a way you can fix.”
“How?”
“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”
“You can’t take yourself?”
“Bitch?”
“Kidding. Heard. What else?”
“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.
He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”
“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”
“The chaos menu? She said—”
“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”
He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”
“You’re reactive.”
“No shit.”
“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”
He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”
“It had been 23 minutes.”
“Oh.”
“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”
“…No.”
“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”
He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.
“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”
He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”
“I will not.”
“You just said I was a catastrophe.”
“Fully not what I said.”
“I read between the lines.”
“Carmen.”
You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”
He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”
“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.
“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.
You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”
He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”
“First restaurant too?”
He nods again.
“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”
There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.
“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”
“You’ll do better next time.”
He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”
“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”
“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.
“At what? Self-help?”
He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”
You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.
You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.
…
When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.
“Fucking Mikey!”
“What’d he do this time?”
You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”
She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”
“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”
“Oh.”
“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”
“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”
“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”
“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”
“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”
She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”
“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.
“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.
“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”
She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”
All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.
“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”
Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.
“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”
You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”
“Does it?”
“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.
She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”
Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?
“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”
You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.
“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”
You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.
“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”
You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”
You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”
“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”
“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.
“But?”
“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”
She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”
“It’s done. I’ll be there.”
“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”
Fuck.
Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.
Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!
Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!
Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!
Next Part
#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto#carmy x reader#carmen x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto#the bear fx#carmy the bear#the bear x you#the bear#the bear x reader#the bear fanfiction
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