#so it's pretty exciting to post something for it after all this time :D

[hannah-heartstrings]

It's What I'm Saying Now

For the @tes-summer-fest prompt: Companion

Dragonborn, Anthony, sharing some burdens with his faithful companion, Lydia.

@druidx @babyblueetbaemonster @inkysqueed

---------

            Smoke trailed up into the cold air. The campfire crackled, its orange light wavering over the Imperial’s unsure face.

            “I’m a soldier, I’ve only ever followed orders, but now that I’m this…” Anthony looked confused, unsure himself what the word fully meant, “dragonborn, they look to me to lead, and I don’t know if I can.”

            Lydia sat beside him on the fallen log, watching him.

            His head sunk with a sigh. “I’m sorry to burden you with all of this.”

            “I told you, I don’t mind carrying your burdens.”

            He looked up to her through narrowed eyes. “That’s not exactly what you said.”

            “Well…” she glanced away, something shy in her stoic face, “it’s what I’m saying now.”

            His head lifted, surprised.

            “Maybe I was mad at first,” an edge in her voice began sharpening as it went, “that the gods would choose not a Nord on not the Nord’s side to be the Nordic hero, but…” exhaling, the edge softened, “then you risked your life to save Stormcloak farmers.”

            “Well, of course,” he looked confused, “they were people who needed help, wouldn’t anyone have-?”

            “No,” she turned to him, expression sad but warm, “and that’s why the gods chose well.”

            He stopped, surprised.

            “And you’re doing a good job leading us,” she smiled.

            Touched, he slowly smiled back.

            “Well, except for when you get us ambushed by bandits.”

            The smile dropped into a quick gape. “I knew it probably was an ambush.”

            “Uh huh,” she looked unconvinced.

            “But what if he really needed help? You can’t just walk past someone who might need help!”

            “Even when it’s probably an ambush?”

            “Like I said, it might not have been.” Catching that the fire was dwindling, he faced forward to stoke it. “And if we didn’t fall into the trap then someone else would’ve, and they might not have had weapons or an idea that it was probably an ambush. It’s our duty to protect those who can’t protect themselves, so we have to fall into traps…”

            Lydia smiled fondly as he rambled on.

[alargehunkofdebris]

Why There’ll Never Be Another Good Omens 2 Experience

The strangest thing happened after a few days post my watching of S2. I got a wave of real, bittersweet sadness.

Not due to the obvious – I was dealing with that too, but with more excitement than anything – but because I realized something, as a writer and consumer of media. I realized that it’s unlikely I’ll ever get a media experience close to what I experienced at the end of Good Omens 2. Because really, its setup was absolutely unparalleled – in general, and for myself personally.

I am currently writing my third romance, and what I’ve learned primarily about the genre, the way for it to really work, is that there needs to be something keeping the couple apart initially. The more things keeping the couple apart, the stronger the romance hits. The more the couple clashes with each other, the better it is. Societal norms, class issues, initial dislike, literal danger—all these aspects are what make a romance a story. It’s that conflict that creates the compelling narrative. No romance was ever popular because things worked out well from the beginning – it’s that “look at what we were, and look at us now” aspect that gives readers/watchers that satisfaction. It’s the “I can’t believe this happened” effect. The “I would never have foreseen this” effect. The “they’ll never be together” effect. It’s why forbidden romances are so incredibly popular.

Another aspect that makes a romance story really work well is the amount of time it takes for the romance to develop. A couple that gets together after a few days? Eh, it’s tricky. You better make it really dramatic somehow. A great example is Titanic – class differences, betrothal, and a huge amount of danger threatens this couple, so them being in love after only a few days works. But what really sells this one is because we can see how this romance has survived beyond those few days. We see it 80 years in the future, still there, in the memory of Rose. That is why it hits so hard. Romances that span over long periods of time (especially ones that are bittersweet/tragic) hit so much more than ones spanning a short period.

But wait! There’s more!

You can up this effect by not only having the romance take time in story…but having it take time in real life, for the viewer/reader.

This is why romances in TV shows that take years to finally work out are so compelling. It’s that “Pam and Jim” effect, that will-they-won’t-they deal. We are waiting right along with them, and we’re feeling that same relief when all those things keeping them apart finally fall away. This is harder to pull off, because there’s never that guarantee that the story will make it that far. TV shows get cancelled, creators lose interest or die, etc. So it’s not just “Will They, Won’t They,” it’s “Will They, Won’t They, Can They Even Try?”

This is also compounded by that fear that it won’t happen in-story after all, and while in romances you’re pretty positive that things work out (they kinda have to, for it to be labeled a “romance”) in other media, there’s always that possibility. Look at Community – there’s a forbidden/conflict-ridden romance that didn’t end up working out, even though it was “Will They, Won’t They”d for six entire seasons. You also then have shows and ships where fans are almost sure it won’t happen, but still hold out hope. (See: Supernatural, Sherlock, etc.)

Now. Now look at Good Omens. Look at that absolutely unparalleled, unbelievable set up. It’s unbelievable because it takes almost every single thing that makes a romance compelling, and not only uses all of them, but dials them up to 11.

Why are they at odds? Why are they forbidden from being together?

Because they are literally the most opposing forces you can imagine in Western Canon. They are the Angel Guarding The Gate and The Serpent of Eden. The literal only way you could’ve made this a bigger deal would’ve been to make it God and Satan, and even that would’ve not hit as hard, because it’d be like two CEOs getting together – there’s no fear of a higher power adding that delicious conflict. And to add to all this, in real life, the couple is portrayed as two men, which adds that second meta level of conflict.

And what fear/danger is keeping this couple apart?

Not just familial disappointment—but disappointment from God and Heaven and Hell. Not just moral guilt, but the guilt of potentially dooming the entire Earth. And finally, on top of that, the very real danger of being killed. Not only that, but making it as though you never even existed.

And in real life, they face all those roadblocks that queer couples in media have been battling for years and years, but I'll talk about that more in a second.

Okay, then Time. How long have they been kept apart?

For…all of it.

All of the time that ever existed.

They, quite literally, could not have been kept apart longer.

And this leads into those final two points, the ones that actually really sell it. Because I can sit down right now and write a story about an angel and a demon falling for each other at the beginning of time against all odds…but what I can’t do is to have already written it thirty-three years ago.

That’s how long this story has existed. Thirty. Three. Years.

I’m not even counting how this is using characters that have existed as opposing forces for thousands of years. I’m not even saying that, even though that’s also a part of it. But besides that, this story, this exact story started thirty-three years ago, and is still being continued by the author to this day.

Do you know how uncommon that is?

Yes, we have canon that has lasted for many, many years. Hundreds. We get new versions of beloved older stories ever year. But it’s so very rare that they are by the same creator. We get new Sherlock Holmes content, but it is not written by Arthur Conan Doyle. This, on the other hand, is actual canon content, written by the author of the original. That is unbelievably rare.

That means we’ve got a fandom where some people have grown up with these characters. People who read it at twenty are fifty-three. People who read it at fifty are eighty-three. Kids who saw their parents reading the book now have children of their own. It is a cult classic that has been in the hearts of so many people for generations. Me, personally, I fell in love with it ten years ago, at age twenty, at the very beginning of my own writing journey. This story means so much to people, because it’s stood that test of time.

And yet, this story was never explicitly romantic. So many saw it that way, but it was never something confirmed. Because this was a book from the 90s, at a time where this kind of romance just wasn’t in popular media if it wasn’t played as a joke. It was, back then, the same kind of “forbidden” as a romance between angel and demon. So people imagined, but they never expected anything more. And they’ve continued not expecting more, because even in the 2019 first season, there was never any true confirmation of anything, and people accepted it. You have a 33-year-old story here – it’s possible that this major change/confirmation could happen, but all things considered, it was unlikely. You would never blame the creator for not making major developments to a story they wrote with their late friend a lifetime ago. And no one in production was saying a word to confirm or deny, but we’ve seen all this before. It was a Will-They-Won’t-They…Probably-Not situation.

And then you have the end of S2.

And that's where that bittersweet sadness comes in for me, personally. Not at a huge level, not to the point where I'd have it any other way, but it's there regardless. Because I realized that this was a unique situation that could never be replicated, for me, and likely for many, especially readers of the book pre-show. In all likelihood, I would never again experience a romantic payoff like this one. Because it was the most forbidden of forbidden romances, the couple of which have been kept apart by the worst of all dangers and highest level of guilt for the longest amount of time literally possible, written over a real-life span of time where this kind of romance went from “completely taboo even in real life” to “finally acceptable in popular media,” written by the same creator, and not confirmed as canon until the story reached the age of Jesus Christ himself.

And the real kicker is, even after everything these two literally star-crossed lovers have gone through…they’re still being kept apart. They’ve still not taken down those final, seemingly insurmountable barriers between them. It wasn’t a “here you go 😊” move to make long-time fans happy – it’s being used as a perfect, painful plot point. After 33 years, we’re still having to wait longer.

Chef's kiss. Couldn’t have been a better set up if it was mathematically calculated. And yet, the best part is that it happened organically.

It just works.

[maikissed]

always have always will

part 3 to post euro Jude Bellingham story I'm back with itttt eat up warning: yeah, there's smut

If you had to choose a word to define the change that made it’s way into your life, you’d call it all-consuming. You started to get to know some different, deep buried parts of yourself that you had never reached, absolutely rebuilding the well organised pattern you had been working hard for. Safe order and strict strategy kept numbing you for years and you did not even realise that it created an armoured blockage to keep away feelings you considered dangerous. People, you considered good and gentle but not suited for your desires. You could not settle for anything else, while your heart called for something it picked out so long ago. You’ve kept your love quiet and obedient, hidden, despite the fact it was eating at your soul. All this time it was here, for you to reach for, and it made you laugh and shake your head whenever you thought about it. Humans can be stubborn and silly.

You were about to see him, first time in two months, and you wanted to say you were nervous about it, yet it was not the truth. Your gaze focused on your leg, jumping in a quick rhythm, your fingers gracefully intertwined on your thighs. The weather was agonizingly hot, your body was hot, the AC blast set on the highest intensity in the cab did not help with your state at all. Furiously you grabbed the edges of the shirt you were wearing on your thin top, tearing it off your sweaty skin. The driver gave you a concerned look in the back mirror and you huffed under your breath realising you were indisputably excited to see the man that could not leave you at peace for even a moment. Your thoughts occupied by the ghost of him, your nights filled with wildest fantasies of him, tormenting to the point you had to actually do something about it. You missed him crazy.

“Hace mucho calor, no?” you joked nervously, trying to not look mad in this man’s presence.

But why did you care, to be honest?

He simply nodded and took a minute before he took his eyes away from you, looking back on the road. You realised your cleavage was quite unveiled after you stripped in the back of his car. The top low and tight on your chest. You scoffed under your breath.

You took just one step further after leaving your luggage near the main doors and you stopped in your tracks when Jude’s silhouette appeared from around the corner. A playful grin appearing on your lips as he noticed you, surprised expression painting itself on his pretty face. He did not smile back yet.

“You were supposed to come tomorrow” no reproach in his voice, just simple curiosity and a tad of teasing.

“I might have get the dates wrong” you swung on your feet, your hands connected low behind your back.

The anticipation.

“Liar” he scoffed, the glow in his eyes gave way for dark greediness.

Maybe you did lie with aim to surprise him.

“Hi” your voice sweet when you batted your eyelashes at him.

You were standing there, pathetically enamoured with him to the point of shameless flirt that flowed from your voice, your gaze and chest pressed up, your hands still behind your back innocently.

“Hi” he murmured and next everything happened quickly.

You started to run to him, reaching him first after he took a few steps your way, your hands wrapping around his neck as you jumped up into his arms. His hands gripping your thighs to keep you close and steady. No more words were needed now when you kissed, your movements rushed, excited, the press of your bodies and the touch of your lips filled with hunger and longing. He was merciless and you were trying to keep up with him. Placing you on the large table he leaned back to take a moment to look at you and you giggled when his hands reached under your skirt unexpectedly. A gentle smirk appearing on his lips at the sound.

“Up” he commanded and you hummed in amusement, mocking him in that manner.

“Eager much?” you joked as he hurriedly dragged your panties down your legs.

“I missed you” his eyes innocent, sparkly and sweet when he voiced it out.

But there was no innocence in the way he yanked the trousers belt to slide it off the loops fast and firmly. His gaze on you all the time but your own eyes travelled lower to watch these ministrations. The anticipation unbearable now. The sound of the zipper opening and you shivered thinking if you were prepared for him. No foreplay, no gentleness, just raw want and ache.

Stepping in between your legs he brought his face close to yours, not kissing you, just lingering there as he positioned himself. His breath fanning your skin, you did nothing yet, just let him adjust you on the edge of the table. It stung a little when he entered you and you groaned.

“Did you miss me?” he breathed against the skin of your cheek, pulling out and pressing back in, slow but thoroughly.

“Yes, oh God” you moaned surprised by the intensity of this experience.

You’ve never felt the high hit you so fast. Just a few pushes of his hips and you already felt like you might snap in a second. All-consuming. Your breathing uneven, your hands holding him close desperately, your lips searched for his. Sloppy as you both moaned into each other’s mouths. The big, heavy table screeching on the tiles when he sped up, you started to feel dizzy. Letting go of his arms you slowly laid down on your back, a scream leaving your lips when he gripped your hips, adding more force to his next thrust. Your heart beating so ruthlessly, you feared it might jump out of your chest. Somehow, you felt like you stopped breathing for a moment, a weak close-mouthed whimper, that turned out was yours, reached your ears.

“Do you want me to stop, love?” he asked but still kept fucking you with relentless pace.

“N-no” you whined “Harder” a whisper.

“Fuck” his voice shaky and his next push was almost painful for you.

But your body accepted it with pleasure as the first strong pull flexed your lower muscles. An overpowering wave bursting inside of you, hotness spreading up inside your veins, reaching your temples and ears. The next wave as powerful as the first. And another and then another, you cried as it seemed to not end just yet. One more and you surely were going to pass out. It became quiet out of the blue, your eyes closed, ringing in your ears. He picked you up by his arm wrapped around your torso and you sighed when your upper body slung onto him.

“Are you alright?” breathless question, his voice soft.

“Mhm” you hummed lazily.

“Are you hungry?”

“No, just tired”

He graced you with the sweetest smile helping you get down from the table. You weren’t the proudest of yourself when as soon as your feet reached the floor, you faltered on your week legs. He caught you in time, a short huff leaving his mouth.

“Careful”

“Uhuh, you have to carry me around now” your tiny joke brought a wide smile on his lips and he bent lower to pick you up.

You were absolutely excited about visiting Madrid, you adored Spanish sun, architecture and people. But the first two days you both spent enjoying each other’s company, since you had too little time for it unfortunately. The decision has been made, approved by both of you. This new relationship was very young still and you could not keep your hands to yourself most of the time. You were insanely besotted with each other, spending all mornings in bed, taking hour long showers, him close to you for the whole day. To be precise, you lived off of sex for two days straight. And the sex was wondrous. In the morning it was blissful when you were still rather drowsy, your body light and so delicate, responsive to the gentlest touches. Buried in the thin sheets, slow and lazy, wet, passionate kisses, soft gasps and murmurs into each other’s mouths and the eye-contact driving you mad, his dark eyes full of adoration. He loved the eye-contact, always craving your attention, and you were falling apart as soon as he stared into your eyes. It was the most powerful feeling. There were moments when you tried to shun from his intense, loving stare and it always amused him, delicate smile playing on his lips.

“Are you being shy on me, love?” his lips moving against yours gently, his voice deep.

You smiled, your eyes still stubbornly closed.

“No” you breathed.

“Then look at me” gently but demandingly.

And for course the moment you opened your heavy lids to grant him what he asked for, the next snap of his hips was quicker and more precise, pushing into you with force, making you feel so full. A breathless mewl escaping your lips, a low moan of his followed. But you kept his gaze.

“Good girl” and you were a mess.

You spent the next evening with his friends, a simple dinner on a massive, roof terrace, with cocktails and music. The atmosphere felt like true vacation on a Greek island, under warming sunset, beautiful horizon painting beneath it. You were nervous at first but after some time you relaxed, mixing both English and Spanish in the conversations. Jude’s friends had a little laugh at him, pointing that you were much better in speaking Spanish that him. He acted a bit offended at first but then added that you were much better than him in many things. Socializing with all these people turned out well, it was easier than you expected. It wasn’t exactly the fact that you struggled to make new acquaintances, you just felt some kind of pressure to make a good impression. Wanted to be seen as fitted for him. As the night went by you’ve noticed Jude watching you most of the time. His gaze did not slip your attention, as you parted for some time. Whenever you looked his was he was already looking back at you. His face bright, eyes focused but peaceful, you smiled at him and he smiled back with his honest, boyish smile you adored so much your whole life. You were standing few meters away from him, the eye-contact present still, your smile turning wider because at first it appeared quite funny to you. Like he was trying to say something or point something out and you couldn’t figure out what. He blinked and gulped, you noticed the bob of his throat. His eyes never wandering lower, down your body, as he did earlier, just gazing straight at your face. You blinked remembering you’ve noticed him look at you this way before, couple of times during your whole friendship. But it always seemed like you’ve caught him on it, his head turning the other way nervously as you looked back. This time he kept his gaze on you, confident and sure. You’re his.

He was very calm as he followed you into the house later that night. You were yapping, of course you were, you granted yourself with a few delicious strawberry margarita drinks and you felt overjoyed. The fact that you have to part in few days forgotten for now. He was silently listening to your talking and observing you.

“What?” you giggled standing in the middle of the living room, your face flushed, you were a little breathless.

He came up to you, a smirk on his face but his eyes still calm, not mischievous. His finger rising up to hold up your chin, your deep, shiny pupils gazing at him.

“I want to marry you” he muttered and you bit your lip, a wide smile trying to break through.

Yes! Of course! Yes, please! – a loud scream inside your head.

“I can’t marry you now, Jude” you commented seeing that your answer did not affect him.

“Why not?” he asked with a frown, the ghost of a smile still there.

“Because all of this is still fresh!” you punctuated, always reasonable.

“We know each other since diapers” he sneered, more seriousness in his voice.

And he was right, of course. But at the back of your head there was still a minuscule bundle of fear, almost creating pain as it kept pressing on your skull, that if you take a one wrong step, everything might crumble and the heartbreak following would be too great for you to live with.

You huffed wondering if he was joking, or maybe testing you?

“Yes, but…” you tried but he interrupted you.

“I can go and get a ring first thing in the morning”

You laughed.

“You’re not being serious. And you don’t even know my size”

“Oh, I do know” he licked his lips, his brows up as he smiled at you again.

You stood there, flabbergasted, eyeing him cautiously.

“How the hell do you know? I don’t even wear rings” your voice funnily judgmental.

“It’s a secret”

He embraced you but you placed your hands on his chest to watch his expressions.

“Liar” you stated, your gaze hard and daring.

He put more force into his hold and pressed you closer to him, kissing you on the lips before you could jest more with him. He pulled back, a nonchalant smirk on his lips.

“Marry me” he whispered before kissing you again.

“No” you fought, your lips desperately pressed close to spite him.

“Yes, marry me”

You started to wriggle against him but there was no way you could escape his strong grasp.

“No” you laughed breathlessly, your body pressed against his hard chest.

Somehow it felt the way your little disputes used to feel when you were younger. It brought back the best of memories. Despite the fact that the subject felt rather serious for the age you were in, but when considered it seemed not so complicated and consequential at all. Felt right.

Most likely annoyed with your resistance he bent down very low and picked you up swiftly, you screamed as your head flung low upside down on his back, your hips on his arm, legs in the air.

“That’s unfair!” you squeaked as he started to walk in the direction of the stairs “Put me down” you pressed the heels of your palms on his spine.

“You’re being difficult, have to be handled” he muttered, keeping you in place with his strong hold.

“You can’t settle everything by force!” you brawled and the last scream escaped your chest as you landed abruptly on the bed in his room.

Swiftly he rested above you, his eyes huge and shiny.

“I love you” he breathed “Always have, always will. Marry me”

Your lungs empty, your heart full, limbs tingling, skin warmed, mind quiet. You blinked at his strong confession. No query in his eyes, no doubt. The truth has been there for the longest time. On the both sides.

You started to laugh softly, but not in mockery, not in rejection. The laugh voicing out the obviousness, the joy and pride of the place you’ve finally managed to reach. 21 years later and you were free.

“Of course I’ll marry you, you lunatic” you joked with a full smile “I love you so much” and this last sentence close to bring you to tears.

“You’re so strange” he chuckled before kissing you deeply and passionately.

Many more I love you’s was brought by the rest of your night.

[doodlebeeberry]

It's OSC gift exchange number 4, baby!!

Thats right folks!!! once again so so excited to host the gift exchange, hopefully itll be yet another fun one! :D

doing things slightly differently this year: if you wanna join you can just fill out this google form! You can also still join by replying/reblogging/dming me with what you'd like if you prefer to do it that way though.

Rules, dates, and details are all under the cut (and also in the form), please read them through fully before joining!!!

Entries close November 28th at midnight (est)!

For those not in the know, the gift exchange is just what is sounds like! Upon joining, you tell me what you like to see in you gift. After, you'll be randomly assigned a giftee, and will make a gift for them based on what they've requested. When the day comes, you'll post your gift and @ the person it's for!

The timeline this year looks like this:

Nov. 7-Nov. 28: Join the gift exchange by filling out this form, dm-ing me, replying, or tagging this post with what you'd like to receive. You can ask for anything--shows, ships, ocs, whatever! Additionally, if there's anything you dont want to see or can't make (ie, ships that make you uncomfortable), you can make a note of that as well

Dec. 1: I'll let you know who you've been assigned and what they'd like! This'll most likely be done through tumblr dms, so if that's an issue do let me know!

Dec. 1-30: You make your gift! This can be anything, from art to writing to music and more! so long as you follow your giftee's request, the possibilities are endless!

Dec. 31: Post your gift, being sure to @ the person its from! Please do not post your gift before this date!!!

Some other things to note:

You can request anything--shows, characters, ships, etc--just please make sure they are osc related! it is an osc gift exchange after all

Asking for OCs is very much allowed, just be sure to provide me with a reference when you join

in regards to things you can't do, please do note that "i haven't seen x show so i wont do it" or "i'll only do requests for x show" are not being treated as valid requests in this context, so i won't guarantee them. also please remember that giftees are assigned randomly.

If your giftee requests more than one thing, you aren't obligated to fulfill all of their requests if you don't want to. Just be sure to do one of them and you're good!

If you need to drop out for any reason, that is completely ok, it happens! just please be sure to let me know ahead of time so I can re-assign your giftee!

On that note, if you have reason to believe you will be unavailable or otherwise unable to post your gift on the 31st, please be sure to tell me so we can work something out! Additionally, if you can't reach out on tumblr (say, your blog gets deleted) you can also poke me on bluesky (@ bumblebeeberry) or discord (thatonegaycat) about it

You can not join anonymously! I just don't think it'd fair to your giftee

While I highly doubt I will need to, I can bar you from participating if I deem it necessary. Again, unlikely, but in the off-chance it does happen I will message you to let you know, pretty please do not yell at me if I do

Not a requirement but when I send you your giftee if you could just let me know you saw the message i would greatly appreciate it!

As per usual I'll be tagging everything with #osc gift exchange, feel free to use it on your gift as well!

That's it! if you have any questions, comments, notes, what have you, please don't hesitate to dm me! :]

[sonotdaiisy]

TAKE A GUESS ⸺ Haerin x reader

Asking your supposed enemy who she has a crush on

GENRE ⸺ Fluff, enemies to lovers (ish)

WARNINGS ⸺ short, I’ll make like three short posts while I’m actually writing something long :P, wrote this at like 3am so it’s barely proofread, saw an imagine on Pinterest and decided to do it, so just the idea isn’t mine but lowk the entire plotting is :D, wrote on an app called notion I think (a friend recommended) so that’s why there are spaces TT

WC ⸺ 1.3K

You’re going to be honest. Haerin was really intimidating. Everything about her just screams “don’t talk to me or I’ll kill you”. Her face, her eyes, her glares, the way she talks, literally every single thing about her.

She talks to absolutely no one but you. She’s more playful, sweeter, annoying and teasing towards you.

Everyone including you has no idea how and why she started to talk to you.

One time when another school came to your school just for a basketball match, rumors spread that Haerin liked someone from the opposite school leaving everyone in curiosity and thought. But they knew they could never get their answers, no way they were going to walk up to Haerin and asks one of the most irrelevant questions. She’d probably scream or death glare at them. Right now their only option is you.

It was a normal afternoon, you remained in the library to observe break. Drowning yourself in a bunch of novels. Until a person tapped you on the shoulder.

You looked up to see a familiar girl from one of your classes. A small smile plastered on your face so as not to come off as rude or anything like that.

She looked down, embarrassed of what she was about to say next. “Hey umm yn This may seem weird to ask but could you kindly please ask Haerin if the rumors are true? The one about her liking someone from the other school?” She requested shyly.

“Please….you’re the only one she likes, the only one she talks to” she pleaded after seeing your raised eyebrow.

“The only one she likes?! Girl she lowkey hates me“

“But fine whatevs, I’ll ask her about it” you added shutting the Novel that was placed between your palms shut.

“Thank you thank you thank you so much” she thanked a hint of excitement in her tone.

“Yeah” you shortly responded, making your way out of the library to find Haerin.

You were about to go searching round the school until you remembered her favorite spot. The rooftop.

Of course it was her favorite spot in the whole school. She was short from people, short from human interactions.

Just as you thought, you saw Haerin standing by the railings staring down at the others who observed their break; eating, giggling and chatting away.

Moving closed to her, you gave her shoulders a light tap until she whipped her head around to see you.

“What’d you want?” She asked her tone not very welcoming but much rather hostile. It was no big deal since you were pretty much used to it.

“Hey umm I know this may come off as weird, what am I even saying it’s weird but like a girl asked me to ask you if the rumors are accurate you like someone from the other school. You know the school that joined ours during the basketball game that time.” You explained waiting with anticipation for what she was about to say next.

She scoffed looking at you like you had just said the dumbest thing ever. “What are you saying? You’re in my class” she briefly responded turning back to stare down at people.

“Huh? Wait what? What am I supposed to do with this?? That literally just has nothing to do with all this, come on just tell me yes or no?” you demanded but all you got in response was a shrug.

“I’m not telling you, take a guess from the hint”

A small scoffed escaped your lips. You were almost on the verge of smacking her head. What does this all have to do with you? You’re in her class, yes you can totally see that.

Without asking too much you left the roof top now on another mission to find the girl.

It was as if the girl was spying on you because the next thing you knew you got jump scared by her on your way down the staircase.

“Oh my I’m so sorry for the sudden jump scare” she apologized scratching the back of her head sheepishly.

“So what did she say? Is it a yes or no? Did she even answer? Did she leave you on a cliff hanger?” She babbled not taking breaks.

“Yes she did leave me on a cliffhanger”

“You mean she didn’t tell you if she did or not?” The girl asked raising an eyebrow.

“Not that she didn’t tell me, all she said was and I quote. ‘What are you saying? You’re in my class’ “ you repeated the words from earlier.

“Wait what’s that supposed to mea— wait you don’t get that?!” The girl asked her eyes widening in shock.

“Duh”

“You’re literally so dense” she added shaking her head before waking off.

“Umm that’s rude of you to also put me on a cliffhanger you know?!!” You yelled from up the staircase hoping she’d hear from wherever she is.

Everything seemed irritating to you maybe because you still didn’t understand what Haerin and the other girl meant earlier.

“You’re in my class, you’re….in….my…class” you repeated the words slowly analyzing each words.

“You’re, me, in, my, her, class…. This whole shit if confusing!” You ruffled your hair in frustration constantly playing the memory from the roof top again.

And then it clicked. “YOU ARE IN HER CLASS!!” You gasped quietly. “I’m the person she likes!!” you mumbled to yourself.

After finally understanding the statement, you find yourself growing more and more impatient as the last period seemed to be taking forever.

Finally it came to an end, Haerin had dashed out of the class before you knew it.

You fumbled with the zip of your bag, darting your eyes to the door, praying you won’t loose sight of the girl.

After successfully packing your bags you rushed out of the class, stumbling and bumping into people on the way.

You dashed out of the school glancing around once you thought you’ve lost sight of Haerin until you saw her by the sidewalk with her headphones plugged in.

You finally caught up to her, tapping her on the shoulders to get her attention. She turned around slowly removing her headphones. “Yeah?”

“Wait…. What you said earlier—“

“I thought I told you I’m not giving you any more hint”

“Yeah I know, I just wanted to know if it was true or not” you asked biting the inside of your cheeks.

“What do you think? Of course it was!” She stated turning to face front, walking away from you.

You sighed in frustration catching up to her again. This time stopping her by holding her arm stopping her in her tracks.

“I thought I already told you—“

“So does this mean we’re together?” You asked softly looking her in her eyes. “Like you’re my girlfriend now?” You added.

A hint of softness and warmth could be seen in her eyes. She was a bit confused at first but when realization hits, she blushed a bit at your statement. “So you like me back?” She asked confirming just to be sure.

You nodded smiling at her.

Before you could even move she pulled you closer, drawing you into a really tight hug. “Yes it means you’re my girlfriend”

She pulled away noticing someone from the same school as the both of you standing behind you with a bouquet of flowers and chocolates, a blush spread across his face.

“YN these are for you…I’ve liked you for a really long time now… would you be my—“

“Ah ah ah! She’s not straight, plus she’s my girlfriend so back off!” She scowled judging the boy up and down.

The boy nodded running away in embarrassment earning a satisfied smirk from Haerin. “Just as I thought”

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Brainrot Housekeeping: An update

I don't know how many times I've tried to find the best way to say this, but I'll put the major updates upfront and go into detail under the cut :')

To get straight to the point, I'm going to be retiring from this blog in a few days.

No, I'm not leaving the fandom

Yes, I'm going to keep creating! Just not on this blog

No, I'm not going to delete this blog

Yes, I'm still going to be relatively active as far as regular fandom activity goes

To go a little more into detail, I've had an ongoing situation at my workplace that quickly spiraled in all the wrong ways over the last month. I ended up having to resign as a last-ditch effort to preserve my physical safety, which obviously means that now my life is going to look very different from what it has for nearly the last two years.

My job (which I did love doing) involved a setup that allowed me the kind of time and space to pump out the amount of content that I have since I started this blog. Now that that's changing, I won't have the consistent, scheduled blocks of idle time to keep up my past posting schedule. Creativity will happen irregularly in my free time, and I'll want to spend it differently.

Which brings me to the future of my creative endeavors and involvement with the fandom - I don't think I'll be able to truly understand the impact this has had on my life for years to come. Having a community with all of you, getting back into my passion for writing and storytelling and creating after six years of giving up on it, finding out what it's like to watch a shared love and enjoyment for characters unfold into something real and exciting ... it's meant the world to me, and I can't thank every person who's been here for it enough. There's no way I'll leave any of this behind if I can help it.

So, no, I won't be writing for the Arcana M6 anymore, but I'm not leaving. I will still be running the Vesuvia Weekly event blog (and, if I have the brain farts for it, occasionally contributing my own submissions) and I will still be active in the Arcana Renaissance server. Not only will I be keeping this blog up, I'll also continue moving all of my writing posts onto Ao3 as well for a more cohesive, effective archive for anybody who just wants to browse M6 content. I won't be taking writing prompts anymore, but I'll do my best to stay on top of answering asks!

As for what I'll be doing next, to be honest, I'm actually pretty excited. I've had an idea rattling around in my head for a while that's begging to be written and illustrated and composed for, and I've finally reached the mental space to do it. I'm already in love with my main cast of characters and the dystopian, fantasy-punk-ish world they live in. If I ever manage to get my ideas off the ground, I'll be more than happy to invite anyone interested to watch it develop and unfold. :D

(And no, this will not involve Dorian at any point lol. I'd rather learn to code and build my own website)

If you've read this far, I can't thank you enough. You've taught me life lessons and prompted me to grow as a person in creativity, kindness, community, and joy. I've learned what it means to hold love and space for others in new ways. You've enriched my life in important and tangible ways and you'll always have a piece of my gratitude. I never would've imagined an experience like this, but boy am I glad it's happened.

Until next time!

brainrot

[jaehunnyy]

Ateez and the things they do for you while on tour

Genre: established relationship, floof—lots of it, crack-ish?

Word count: 1.9k

Pairing: idols!Ateez x gn!reader

Warnings: pet names (+ reader calling Mingi princess), possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu

Networks: @cromernet 🤍

Hongjoong - falling asleep on face-time

☆ Hongjoong keeps track of every single difference between his and your timezone, having it as a daily reminder on the world clock.

☆ It doesn't matter how tired he is after performing and melting million hearts;

☆ He could never be too tired for his love.

☆ Calls you when he's on his way to the hotel room if it's at a suitable hour;

☆ If not, he would settle for napping for a bit and set an alarm so he can call you at a reasonable time.

☆ Loves having your voice playing in the background for whenever sleep gets too hard to fight against (and if you start talking about your day, it's simply music for his ears).

☆ Smiles contentedly, even in his sleep, when you tell him how proud you are and how much you love and miss him.

☆ "You shined today too, baby. I am so, so, proud of you, and I hope you know that."

☆ Even when he's drowsy—droopy eyes, mouth slightly open, almost slipping into the dreams' world, he would never be too tired to mouth an "I love you too, love; thanks for being by my side,"—might come off as a mumble, but the intention is there.

☆ And that's the tutorial on how to make your sleepy Joong happy. :)

Seonghwa - buying souvenirs

☆ Seonghwa would buy the whole shop for you if he could. 

☆ Not that he didn't want to, but Yeosang—his shopping companion, didn't allow that to happen. 

☆ Whenever he sees a cute object, be it little or big, his eyes gather the whole universe in them, an excited smile creeping on his face, as the only thing he can say is "Y/n! :D" 

☆ Magnets? "These would look amazing on their fridge!" 

☆ Clothes? "I remember they said they needed a new cardigan." 

☆ Plushies? "Y/n's shelves have been pretty empty lately, these would look great in there :D." 

☆ And who are you to burst his bubble? It's not like you didn't try to tell him that he should tone it down; but he didn't even bother to listen to you, stuffing more and more into his luggage for when he comes home to show you. 

☆ When unboxing, he would just smile and proceed to take more out of his suitcase. 

☆ "Honey, you don't need to spend so much money on me…" You say, looking at the suitcase he claimed was filled with only souvenirs. 

☆ "Can you blame me, starlight? Let me spoil you." He smiles, settling himself on the floor as he keeps on unpacking, making you accept your fate and smile as well.

Yunho - sending you dancing videos

☆ This man is all but leaving you alone—not that you're complaining or anything. 

☆ He would send you videos of him practicing every single hour, maybe call you too, just to show (and maybe flex) his fantastic dancing skills. 

☆ Sometimes, he would even call you and ask you to learn something together—he just loves to see you dance with him, okay? 

☆ Always asks for your opinion first, on every cover he wants to post. 

☆ "I think that's good enough to post, Yun—" Wooyoung would try to say, but his friend would brush him off quickly. 

☆ "Let me ask Y/n first! :D" 

☆ The moment the warmth of your praises engulfs him—he becomes a malfunctional boy; smiling from ear to ear, continuously staring at your texts, making everyone around him ask him if he is okay, if he needs to see a doctor or something (it's just his friends being the teases they are)—yet he wouldn't care, he is in love <3. 

☆ "Of course it's amazing, Yuyu. You're doing amazing everytime <333." 

☆ He would melt into a puddle. 

☆ "No words can explain how thankful I am for you, my darling." 

Yeosang - delivering sweet nothings

☆ Yeosang would send special deliveries for his significant other.

☆ He has to make sure his baby is being well taken care of even when he's away, doesn't he?

☆ If you randomly get up due to the sound of your doorbell—know that Yeo planned something; again.

☆ Sometimes it's fresh food from your favorite restaurant; sometimes flowers bouquets.

☆ Sometimes, even your favorite hoodie of his—to remind you of him, and his scent.

☆ He would be sneaky and innocent about it too—he would never admit it's him (he would, you just have to be cute enough for it).

☆ "Yeoooo, the flowers you sent yesterday are still there! Where am I supposed to place these ones?"

☆ "What flowers, sweets? I didn't send you anything though?" The lie would slip through his lips, soon curling into a mischievous smile.

☆ Secretly—he enjoys it way too much—seeing how happy you are after the warm meal, how you couldn't stop smelling the flowers he chose for you.

☆ He loved you so much and he had to prove it somehow, even if he was miles away from you.

San - hugging his phone while face-timing

☆ San loves physical attention; he craves it—a lot.

☆ And though there's no way you can give it to him, he finds one, 'cause he's your smart boyfriend.

☆ He came up with the sudden idea of you hugging your phones at the same time, as silly as that might sound.

☆ Hugging the devices to your chests was giving him enormous comfort—not so much of a physical one, but one for the heart, at least.

☆ At first, you didn't expect him to want this to be a regular thing, you thought he would do it one time and then forget about it—or simply leave it aside.

☆ No. Your boyfriend started doing that every single call.

☆ "Y/nnnnn, do you feel it? The warmth?" He asks, his eyes shaped into little crescent moons, while the joy would dig little dimples into his cheeks.

☆ "Sannie… all I feel is how hot my phone got after three hours of continuously face-timing you," you say, looking at his pout through the screen.

☆ "Can you at least pretend? It's the only thing that unites us right now, so please pretend it's me you're hugging, sweets."

☆ With time, you came to understand what he was talking about—it felt nice to imagine him cuddled into your arms, counting the days and hoping they would pass faster and give you your boyfriend back.

Mingi - sending you voice texts

☆ Mingi would send you cute voice texts, and expects you to answer in the same manner.

☆ He would send one right after he woke up, the hoarseness of his voice echoing through your ears and making you giggle.

☆ Would also send you lots of them when he reaches the comfort of his hotel bed, telling you about his day and waiting for you to call, for the live experience.

☆ Sometimes, he would send some in the middle of the day, and when you play them, you're met with the beauty of his singing voice, playing one of the songs he had written, just for you.

☆ Along with comfort, they would usually make tears prickle at the corner of your eyes—because you miss him, and because the depth of the lyrics makes you want to give him the biggest hug ever.

☆ Mingi would also send you vocal texts of him silly laughing at random jokes, or funny videos, claiming that he doesn't want you to forget his laugh (don't forget he wants to hear yours too).

☆ And hearing him laugh would automatically make you cackle too, recording it just in time.

☆ "Princess? If I had a superpower, I wish I could teleport," you said, sending the short voice message to him.

☆ "And why is that, sweetheart?" He asks, in the same manner.

☆ "So I can come there and give you the biggest hug ever," and that was enough to make him melt and think about how much he loves you.

Wooyoung - recording daily vlogs

☆ Wooyoung would be recording silly little vlogs for you at every single step.

☆ No one and nothing could hold him back from turning his camera on selfie mode and pressing the rec button (but also, no one can stop him when he's about to fall 'cause he doesn't see where he steps).

☆ As soon as he gets into his hotel room, he will start making the room tour for you, explaining every detail he notices about it.

☆ Sometimes, he would trick some staff members into showing him the stage outfits beforehand, just for you to wake up with an outfit check vlog made by your boyfriend, exclusively.

☆ He could be anywhere—restaurant, preparing to eat; backstage, preparing to go on stage, or simply walking around the city—it wouldn't matter, his hand is always able to hold a camera or at least his phone.

☆ Oh, and don't you dare interrupt him—he gave San the nastiest look when he called Woo for game night.

☆ "I'm recording my daily vlog for Y/n, can't you see, San? When did you become so heartless?" He asked, hand holding his heart as San raised his arms, defeated.

☆ "Sorry, angel. San is bothering me. Back to you now! :D"

☆ If you could ever make time to send him one of your own daily vlogs too, he would be the happiest man; saving it and staring at it all along, like a lucky charm.

☆ "I decided I should send you a daily vlog from work too, can't let my pookie forget my face and voice," you said, and his lips stretched into the widest smile.

Jongho - singing lullabies for you

☆ Jongho's honey-like voice would melt into another lullaby you asked him for, despite the late hour you were talking at.

☆ You missed your boyfriend's presence—his beautiful gummy smile whenever you told him you loved him, his hugs, everything about him.

☆ And, last but not least, you missed his voice.

☆ You found it hard to sleep without him talking to you, or without hearing him practice another melodious ballad again—and you craved it.

☆ And it seemed like he missed doing these acts of service for you as well;

☆ 'Cause, the second you told him that you wanted to hear him, he didn't hesitate to immediately call you and start to sing another soulful song for you, smiling whenever you complimented him.

☆ His passion was something great to watch too—from the way his eyelashes would stroke his skin whenever he closed his eyes, the way his mouth opened whenever he hits any high notes, to the confidence on his face.

☆ You could swear that your admiration for him painted his cheeks into a crimson blush, yet he couldn't complain, he was proud to have you by his side.

☆ "Can you sing the chorus one more time, please? I don't want it to end before I fall asleep." You asked, looking at him before closing your eyes in order to fall asleep while he was still singing for you.

☆ He let a soft smile appear on his face, singing for you once again and only stopping when you finally fell asleep, whispering a sweet "Good night, sunshine."

[walpu]

I'm coming at you with the speed of thousand asteroids affectionately and hit you with a "your writing is awesome!"

Also, may I request an Aventurine x The Nameless!reader.

Thank you very much and have a nice day :D

Thank you so much for your kind words and for the request, it was so fun to write <З

Hope you'll enjoy it, have a good day as well 💛

Aventurine x The Nameless!reader

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort. Once again, no beta. I'm so sorry.

Aventurine

Considering that the Astral Family and it's members are pretty well-known (everyone seems to know at least their names) he has probably heard something about you even before you first met him.

I can imagine your first meeting going like this: he casually approaches you, acting all buddy-buddy, and says something like "ah, mx , who knew I would meet you here of all places <З".

If your first meeting was during the Penacony quest get ready for him calling you "friend" in this sassy voice of his 💀 Yes Aven we all get it you don't have any actual friends calm down

Can imagine him trying to get closer to you by painting your potential partnership as something mutually beneficial. You could use a friend from the IPC, right? And he wouldn't mind having some connections with a "brave and honorable" Nameless. So why don't you join him for a glass of wine, hmmm?

When the two of you will eventually get closer this mf will get clingy af. Yeah I've mentioned it already in my previous post but you being one of the Nameless opens up so many new perspectives.

Visits you on the Express regularly. If he comes when you're not here, he'll wait for as long as he can for you to come back. Sadly, Aventurine is a busy, busy man. So he can't wait for long. Will leave small notes for you tho, to let you know that he was there but you didn't grace him with your presence

If you come back when he's waiting, Aven will play it off as if he himself just got there and didn't have to wait for you at all, saying somethin like "Oh look, here you're! And here I thought I would have to wait for you, haha. Seems like luck is on my side today~"

He doesn't want you to worry, after all. Also. He wants to save some face. Pom-Pom will rat him out anyway.

Speaking of Pom-Pom, they're probably sick of him at this point lol.

Would ask you about your adventures and listen very closely to every story you may want to tell. He can't help but smile softly while listening to you, he just loves seeing the passion in your eyes. Doesn't matter if the story is about you dragging the Trailblazer away from the trash cans in Belobog (or worse - admiring the trash cans with them), he will still look at you with the same adoring smile.

If you ask him what he's been up to during the time you where gone, Aven would simply laugh it off and say that his boring IPC stuff cannot compare with your bizarre adventures so it doesn't even worth mentioning. Reassure him that you don't care if it's boring, you just want to hear about his day regardless of how it went.

Sometimes he can't help but feel jealous. You're free to travel, to do whatever you want. You have this sparkle of excitement in your eyes every time you tell him about your travels. And he has nothing of it. Simply can't have.

He doesn't have any negative feelings towards you, of course. Mostly some bottled up bitterness toward his fate and himself.

He gets a bit lost in his own head every time he starts feeling this way. Please take his hand and invite him to join you during your next adventure. He will laugh softly and tell you "maybe next time, darling". Even if he doesn't know when this "next time" will come the thought of it, of you wanting to share your precious moment with him, fills him with hope.

Adores when you bring him small gifts from the places you've been. It doesn't have to be something big, really. Just the thought that you were thinking of him when the two of you were apart is enough.

Don't forget to send him pictures of yourself!!!! He wants to know how his dearest darling is doing even when they are freezing their ass off in Belobog.

Would sometimes surprise you by showing up on the planet/space ship you're currently staying on. Aventurine rarely can't stay for a long but he cherishes those short moments when he can just walk around and do nothing in particular with you.

Usually when he visits a planet it has something to do with the IPC's business so he only has time to do his job and. Well. Gamble. Maybe buy some new clothes too if he has enough time.

But with you he can actually explore the planet. You bring him to the local restaurants, small tea shops, seemingly small and insignificant places. But it’s places like these that reveal the real beauty of the planet. He slowly learns to appreciate it when you're by his side.

[ma1dita]

trouble always finds me

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.7k 

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. Luke’s perspective on trouble & how they first met! think trouble’s origin story (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

warnings: none, fluff? Mr. D being a clueless dad lol also guys they’re 14 here

a/n: welcome back to the trouble!verse hehe i was inspired by Mr. D being a bit of a jerk to Percy so that the kid doesn’t off himself. Similar concept but with Luke after he first gets to camp— another version for why trouble!reader calls him angelface coming soon

(posted 1/19/24, erm unedited and not beta’d so forgive me in advance)

—

You were always trouble, Luke knew that from the day he met you. 

Walking into Camp Half-Blood, worn out and weary after days of trying to not become harpy food, his arm was slung protectively over Annabeth’s shoulder as they were led onto the campgrounds. So many pity-filled eyes were focused on them after hearing what happened to Thalia, but the camp seemed promising, filled with other demigods who can resonate with what they’ve experienced. Luke thought it was too good to be true, but anything’s better in comparison to the streets they came from. You, however, looked at them in interest from afar, a playful expression on a pretty face watching their every move like him and Annie were shiny new toys to play with.

He was so sure something was off with you. 

Had to be, from the deranged glimmer in your eye that would appear when something bad would happen at Camp. He’d seen it in action a couple of times before you set your sights on him— setting off fireworks during capture the flag, replacing salt with sugar in the kitchens, cutting Mr. D’s hair in his sleep; all of this causing campers and staff alike to run amok and figure out who to penalize. Each time he’d find you enjoying how it all played out, excitement brimming on the cusp of revealing yourself as the culprit as he watched you bite your tongue. But as a mischievous kid himself, he wondered why you hid it. You preferred to orchestrate the show, to make a spectacle for your personal entertainment, and with a smile too soft to be considered guilty, you were a convincing actress. 

The other campers in 11 told him you’d been unclaimed for half a year now, keeping to yourself and making a safe haven within the busy cabin. You were a klutz to say the least, bringing chaos to Camp Half-Blood with a cool disposition, and you hardly seemed interested the one time Luke tried to say hi as he took the bunk next to yours. 

So why the hell wouldn’t you lay off of him?

At first it was small, shoulder bumps and raised eyebrows whenever he piped up in a conversation. That, he could deal with. Luke’s a tough guy, having gone through more than a typical 14-year old would. 

But then it just got annoying.

Glitter in his shampoo, his laundry load dyed purple, and shoelaces knotted together to make him stumble— things meant to be more of an inconvenience rather than an actual problem. Luke wasn’t sure what to make of it, or what to tell you. No one wants to be the new kid creating trouble, but you didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

Maybe you were a Hermes kid like him, but of that, Luke wasn’t so easily convinced—months of living in 11 would mean you’d learn all of the tricks of the trade, so it couldn’t automatically mean that you were related (a part of him also hoped you weren’t be half-siblings, or else the fact he couldn’t stop thinking of you would be slightly awkward). Perhaps a child of Apollo? When you weren’t being difficult, he’s seen you sprinkled in sunlight, usually humming a tune under your breath. Yesterday it was a song from the Sound of Music, and though he only remembers bits of a memory from a movie night with his mom years ago, he put his combat gear on slower just to hear you finish the song. 

Whatever you were, it was bound to be troublesome.

—

At this point in life, Luke hasn’t had many comforts while on the run. To him there’s no such thing as action without reason, without meaning.�� Five years of running and not looking back makes this son of Hermes realize that he hasn’t had a chance to take a breath until he got here. It’s hard to let down your guard when you’re always supposed to be keeping watch.

He wriggles under his covers trying to relax himself before bed, purple socks sticking out of the scrappy hand-me-down blanket, and he hears a small giggle from the bed next to his. Luke shifts his weight onto his side, eyes darting to your direction in the quiet of the dark cabin.

“Nice socks.”

He blinks. Were you talking to him? His toes wiggle playfully, prompting more of your melodious laughter as he chews at his lip before he responds.

“Guess I’m getting used to them.”

“You’re getting used to a lot of things around here. That’s good,” you whisper, and thinks he can see you concocting something sinister in that brain of yours—he’s on the edge of the mattress hanging onto your every word as he realizes this is the most you’ve spoken to him.

“You did this. Why?” he says, more of a statement than a question. Why would you go out of your way for someone like him?

“Are you mad about it? Luke, right?” you mutter, a calm expression on your face shrouded in moonlight, and for a second he wonders if you actually don’t know his name until he notices the upwards quirk of your lip. 

Luke catches himself then, and the realization hits him like a blow to the chest— he’s not angry at all. If anything, he hasn’t had the time to feel anything negative with the antics you’ve been pulling. You’ve proven to be quite the distraction to his circumstances, and he can’t remember the last time he’s thought about Thalia or his mom since he got here. The melancholy falls on his countenance like a better-fitting blanket than the one he has on, and your words pull him from his thoughts before they can suffocate him again.

“Sorry about your sister. I lost someone right before I got here too. My mom.” 

This, he can tell, is not acting. Your eyes flicker to a polaroid strapped in the space underneath the top bunk above your head, two blurry figures huddled together in a memory.

“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what to say. In the silence that follows, he swallows audibly. Everyone’s been worried about Annabeth, including himself that he hadn’t even thought of his own emotions being on display for everyone to see. Luke never thought you of all people would notice.

You shrug, “S’not your fault. I know when people are acting though. If you know I’m the one who’s been starting shit, why haven’t you told anyone?”

Luke almost laughs at that, a rough exhale leaving his lungs as he watches your hands clutch your quilt.

“It’s pretty entertaining, I guess. You’re annoying, but I don’t mind it. Kept my mind off of things.”

He watches you smile in the shadows now, and it shines—all lips, teeth, and sheer mirth that makes his chest feel a little lighter. A real smile from you, one that doesn’t hide your true intentions.

“I’m glad. Mine too.” 

The next thing you do confuses him further, but from what he’s gathered you’re always full of surprises. You chuck your quilt across the space between your bunks, and the end of it smacks him in the face as he grunts.

“Here. Keep it,” you chuckle a bit loudly, the both of you hearing a Shhhhh… from somewhere in the dark cabin.

“What… Why? Are we friends now?” Luke mumbles jokingly, inhaling the soft scent of berries and fresh linen. His purple laundry load smelled like this too.

“No.”

“Then why are you giving me your stuff?” he says, but still curls up underneath the handmade quilt stitched from memories of a past life, of motherly love and gentle hands. He doesn’t have anything like this, so he settles into this feeling of comfort instead, even if it wasn’t his memory to hold. You go quiet at the sight of him, eyes fluttering and chin tucked into the pink and purple fabric, and he looks as soft as a normal 14 year old boy should.

“It’s getting boring in here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think,” you mumble, turning away and shutting your eyes before he can say anything else.

—

The next day, you get caught putting a month’s supply of bubble bath into the lake, but Luke’s convinced you did it on purpose. All of camp is standing on the shore, watching you wave at them from a river tube as Chiron and Mr. D yell at you in exasperation—finally revealing yourself as the troublemaker they’ve been searching for.

“Get on the beach this instant, young lady! You have no idea how much trouble you’ve put us through!” Mr. D’s voice echoes across the lake, his immortal form almost filtering through his frustration before you laugh in his face, unthreatened by the Olympian.

“Good thing I get it from you. Hello, dad!”

Jaws drop as everyone turns to look at Mr. D, the realization hitting his face as he points at you, his brain moving a mile a minute. Though you resemble your mother, your actions are all him. You revel in the grand reaction, looking up to see a purple thyrsus surrounded by grape leaves float over your head.

“Nice outfit, kid. I don’t think purple is your color. She do that to you too?” Mr. D notes Luke’s wine colored cargos and socks clashing against the harsh orange of his shirt as he pushes past him, scratching his head at the idea of another kid. Poor guy said two was the limit in a lifetime and he gets a grinning teenage girl who dares him to do something about it. He hasn’t raised a lot of girls….

“I don’t know. I guess trouble always seems to find me,” Luke laughs lightly, watching kids of all ages jump into the bubbly lake water happily. The glowing ember of his eyes are relaxed for the first time in a while— an inviting flame catching your own as you stare at him from across the sudsy water. Trouble, he thinks, a smile settling onto his face—how fitting.

He’s spent a lot of time running. But perhaps this time, he’s finding reasons to want to stay.

—

"After all, we are nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal." - Sylvia Plath

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[randomchaosyay]

Shoto Todoroki - Morse Code

Inspired by this post by @ouch-thats-harsh

A/n: Inspiration strikes! Im running on two hours of sleep!

Warnings: None :D

—————————————————

Sho always tapped his fingers against his desk. You thought nothing of it, chalking it up to a nervous habit or something he did out of boredom. But recently, you had decided to learn morse code. It was a random urge really, you weren’t quite sure where it came from, but you did it, learning little by little in the little free time you had over the past few weeks.

You were mostly always swamped with homework and doing hero work via your provisional hero license. The other free time you had, you usually spent with your boyfriend Shoto, cuddling as he caught you up to speed with what you’ve missed in class due to being out heroing, as well as talking about your new favorite theories. His current favorite theory was Shinso Hitoshi being Aizawa and Present Mic’s love child.

Currently, you and Sho were in the common room of your dorm, eating breakfast. You were rather excited to tell Sho about mastering morse code, but everytime you tried, you were somehow not so rudely interrupted by one of your classmates talking about something else.

Finally, you were all on your way to class, the loud food induced chatter settling down to quiet yawns and tired grumbles. Your hand was intertwined with your boyfriend’s as you walked to class. Just as you were about to tell him about learning morse code, you figured no one would interrupt you this time. You were wrong. What you could only assume was a caffeine fueled Midoriya was practically bouncing off the walls, asking everyone about any recent modifications to their hero suits and impacts on their quirks. You wondered when the last time was that the poor boy had slept.

Once you and Shoto reached the door, you decided to tap out a quick “I love you” to the back of his hand, before you had to untwine your fingers and separate from each other to get to your seats, which luckily were pretty close.

“I love you too.” Shoto responded out loud mindlessly.

Both of you froze. You just stood there. Looking at each other in complete and utter shock.

“You know morse code??” You both questioned the other at the same time.

After a slight arguement about who was to explain first, Sho told you how he and his sibling use it to trash talk his father and to talk to his siblings when his father tried isolating him, Fuyumi and Natsuo originally came up with it for Touya but never got to use it with him. Giving him a hug for confort, you told him how you’d learned it just recently on a whim. Before you could converse any further, Denki and Jirou called the Aizawa alarm and you all had to get to your seats. There was a small smile on his face as he walked back to his seat, that went unnoticed by you.

As class went on, you heard Shoto’s familiar pattern of tapping, the way he did every class. Except now, you realized, it had a meaning. ‘I’m bored. I wish I could just ditch and go cuddle Y/n’. You had to hold in a gasp at that as your heart melted slightly, everyday Sho had been tapping that out, other varieties of that as well. And you had no idea until today. ‘Sho we can’t just ditch class’, you tapped back. He turned slightly to look at you, a pleasantly surprised smile adorning his handsome features.

‘Yeah but this stuff is easy and cuddling is more fun’. You could almost hear his voice saying it in a matter of fact tone. ‘Not everyone is top of the class like you Sho.” You responded playfully. You two went on talking to each other for the rest of class. Most of it was about random things, like when Sho reiterated how similar Aizawa and Shinso look, with their eyebags and smile and such. You really loved him, every single thing about him.

Aizawa didn’t notice somehow, but that was probably because your taps were quiet since the two of you didn’t sit that far apart. Or maybe you two were just oblivious to his glares, floating off into your own world until he’d given up with a shake of his head. Problem children.

‘I love you’

‘I love you too’

Learning morse code was a pretty good decision huh?

[heyitstam]

dr. robert chase x reader - the chase itself (smut)

hi guys :D i know i haven't posted in a while, but i recently asked a VERY good friend of mine to cook me a fanfic of this very beautiful man, and HE DELIVERED. like all out jaws on the floor type delivered. i love this man fr, so i'm posting it here with his permission. it's his first fanfic ever, and in my humble professional opinion he overdelivered - so have fun reading this beautiful smut fic of reader and dr. chase <3

I. Humble Beginnings

Taking place in Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, New Jersey, you are a fairly new nurse who pursued a medical career in quite a common way. The way being that it was more so your parents’ wish for you to go to medical school than your own, but you don’t necessarily hate that fact; at least it gave you a direction, so to speak.

It’s early in the morning, so there’s not a whole lot going on. You went around doing your usual checkups already and what not, therefore you decide to go on your well deserved coffee break. However, right as you are are on that, and you step out of the cubicle you are in, you glance over to an unfamiliar face through an operating room.

Some would call it love at first sight, but it really is more than that. It’s the kind of tingly sensation no one could forget. It’s almost shameful, but you can’t be bothered by that feeling right now. As if you physically couldn’t take your eyes off of them, you lose all sense of purpose, standing there, unable to think. Suddenly, someone bumps into you, which wakes you up from your total amusement. You feel the need to know more, so as you squint your eyes, you can read their name off of the shirt they are wearing.

“Dr. Robert Chase..?  I need to.. have a talk with him. I just need to.” – you think to yourself, ponderingly.

You go back to working with a saturated mind, unable to concentrate.

II. The Chase Itself

As days go by, you’re quite hesitant to reach out to him, but you seriously feel the need to. Why is that, really, you ask yourself. You ache to even have a talk with him at this point, but you long for more. Way more. You can’t think of anything else.

After contemplating for a good while, you decide to ask around to know what time he gets off from work, since you want to surprise him at the last minute. That’s the only way you see that you could have a one-on-one with him anytime soon.

With that out the way, you now know everything you needed to know. The only thing that divides you from your desire is to actually act up on it, so you gather all your courage. You look at the time, and you’re actually pretty shocked how caught up you were thinking about him. If you don’t hurry then you’re going to miss him that day entirely, so you start sprinting.

You notice him as he is turning around the corner, all dressed up, ready to leave, and you stumble right into him.

“I need to tell you something inside, it’s.. it’s important, alright. And it might just take a while” – you tell him, struggling with your words. “Great. I was just about to leave, you know. Whatever, show me, I don’t have much time for this. Is it really that important?” – he answers abruptly, being quite impatient.

You suddenly catch a rush of excitement. This is all that you were planning for the past few days or so, to get close to him, and it looks like you’re on track.

III. An Uneasy Start

Chase swings open the door of the office he’s just been in, ushering you in and closing the door behind him, since there’s quite the commotion even late into the night, it’s a hospital after all. It’s dark inside, the only light sources being a dim lamp he accidentally left on and the Moon seeping through the closed blinds faintly. The room has a surgical bed, a cabinet behind it with all kinds of training supplies, a desk with an office chair and a hanger stand. He puts his white coat on the stand, then undoes his tie, putting it into his pants pocket in a really apathetic way, with most of it hanging out.

Seemingly being quite contempt with the situation, he sits down onto the office chair, facing you, and he seriously doesn’t look like he wants to be there.

As a last effort at trying to ease up the situation, you grab the glass of water that is sitting on the desk and you splash it at him, in a playful way.  Not surprisingly, this backfires, since he doesn’t seem too happy about, not in the slightest. He stands up from his desk and goes on to wipe off his shirt to make it slightly less messy, all without even muttering a word. You do feel pretty stupid for that.

With another attempt at getting his attention, you arousingly start to cut the strings off of a few upper buttons on your blouse with a surgical knife, as he turns back to you, giving him a snarky look.

“Was that really necessary? What was so important about any of this? Can we get to the damn point?” – he asks you with a loss of temper. “I might have lied about that important thing.” – you answer him not so bravely.

He's visibly frustrated at you, and with a change of demeanor, he stands up and is now closing distance between you in a rush, as you are backing up. He halts as he catches up to you, towering over you.

With both hands on your shoulders, clenching them hard, he asks you, in an almost belittling tone: “Is this what you wanted? “ “I don’t know, is it?” – you answer him in a pretty similar way.

Like the kind of tease you tend to be, you start gliding around your fingertip on his chest, which he.. seems to enjoy, and lets you do for a short while, for then to push you to the nearest wall.

IV. Lust

Fueled by lust, you immediately grab his chin and assertively start kissing him, which absolutely catches him off-guard. In reaction to the advancement on him, he forces your body onto his as he caresses your back. After this goes on for a bit, he grabs you by the thighs, lifts you up and tosses you onto the surgical table.

With your arms behind you, you’re sitting halfway up as your legs are pulled up. You lock eyes while he is still holding you by your thighs. He leans over, drags you closer and is now standing between your legs.

You clumsily unbutton Robert’s shirt, one by one. In contrast, he carelessly tears off a few more of your buttons, making the blouse slide off your shoulders, which then falls onto your lap, flustering you in the process.

He then puts a hand on your lower abdomen, which feels surprisingly soft, even though his hands are quite firm. Most notably, it’s warm. So warm in fact, you feel like you could melt into him, and you are all about that feeling. Starting from your thighs, continuing to your hips, he brushes his both his hands across all the way up to your chest in a painstakingly soft and throughout way, but at the same it’s quite the calm moment.

An intrigued nervousness starts to pile in you as he suddenly starts to unbuckle his belt, which was undoubtedly the loudest noise in the room so far. In the meantime, like the obedient girl you feel like you are, with each rattle, you can't wait to obey. As if you were a household maid, you’re more than ready to satisfy the head of the house, as if he shook a bell around.

He tosses aside his pants and boxers and you feel like you can’t catch up with your heavy heartbeats as he rests his rigid cock on your stomach. It all just feels so sudden, and it’s starting to grow on you in a pleasurable way. He goes onto removing your bra, while you’re simultaneously stroking him slowly and briefly, before he goes down on you again.

You can feel it throb against you, and it’s just as, if not hotter than his hand is, which he has below your stomach again. He needily grinds against you over and over, lifting your skirt up with it every time, and rubbing against your inner thighs.

He doesn’t wait around before removing your panties, which are drenched by this point, and neither does he wait to penetrate you, as he is inside you now.

“Maybe I did need this.. “ - you hear him talk out loud quietly.

At once, as he is slowly, but forcefully thrusting into you, you see him pulling out the tie out his pocket, which he puts around your neck now, instead of his own.

It’s tightened real well, and he’s gripping it by the base, close to your neck. In the meantime he’s constantly pulling on it upwards, as it’s digging into the back of your neck, scraping your chin against it’s band, making your head tilt backwards considerably. With every moan you make, he tightens more on it, leaving your neck all bruised up. As he is fucking you, you’re nails deep in the sheets. You can’t help yourself but feel pleasured.

As he’s starting to get rougher on you, you begin to develop second thoughts and try to resist him, but as you’re doing that, he immediately tugs you closer, rendering your attempt futile. As you look at him, he seems to be way too into this, as his eyes lose all focus and glare, and you can only watch as his control over himself fades, railing you without a care in the world. This creates even more neediness in you, as you cross your legs behind his back, clinging onto him.

You can barely even keep your eyes on him, and you’re not even resisting his pull on your neck anymore, so you fully commit into tilting you head back in joy. All this sexual fulfillment demands you to do so, as you are slipping out of control more by the second. You feel like you could finish at any time, and as he’s also getting close, he’s painfully grazing your stiff walls more and more, with your moans sounding pitifully more helpless.

Ejaculating with a quiet grunt, he blasts the majority into you, leaving two strings across all the way up your body, all for you to feel ecstatic about. You really do feel like you owned up to it with your services, as if it was his way of rewarding you. Not to forget about you, he pushes you over the edge too, as you’re desperately gripping his shoulders. No matter you could barely take a break after your climax, he leans closer over your stimulation filled shivering body, and goes for a deep passionate kiss. Not even bothered by the fact you are still desperately panting and gasping for air along with him.

V. Not So Aftercare

After standing up from the bed, he comfortably hugs you by your hips, to which you endearingly put your hands onto his. After romantically rocking you slightly around with his hug, he leaves his hands off of you to start dressing up. It’s getting quite late.

As he is about to button back his shirt, he looks at you still standing there, still looking a bit shocked from everything that happened so far. Deciding to help out, he steps besides you, getting your bra back from your bed, and putting it on you. He’s slowly buckling the back together, and you are simply just unable to look him in the eyes, since you're becoming increasingly shy in a sudden way, blushing like you never have before.

"You.. didn't have to, you know.." - you tell him in a higher pitch voice.

You really enjoy his care, it does fill you with joy. Then you reach out for your panties, but as you are pulling them up, he slides his hands under yours, taking the lead again, which surprises you even more. You are so overwhelmed with emotions at this point, you shake right into his hand as he pulls it all the way up, giving you a slight friendly chuckle, and blowing you a kiss right above the lining of your briefs, gaining him an immediate gasp from you. You're truly mesmerized by him.

He continues dressing himself, and as you calm down, you rush into his arms, facing his chest. He caresses and pets your face and head with one arm, for him to go onto groping your ass, and going down to your thighs. His hand lifts your skirt away from time to time, letting colder air in. After he finishes clothing up, he swings you to his other side and pushes you right to the desk.

“I need more of you. I need to feel you in more ways.” – he tells you with a shaky voice.

You almost even stumble, and with an utterly scared look on your face, you glance at him. Without precaution, he pushes you down onto the floor. You look down onto your legs. Your knees are together and your feet are far apart, completely side-tracking you. You even put your hands on your knees in a cute way, but as you lift your head, his cock gets into view, poking through his pants fly, which takes you aback.

Your first and immediate reaction is to press your lips all around him, kissing and licking his shaft as it pumps against your mouth. After growing tired and wanting more, he puts his thumb in your mouth, and with a few fingers latching onto your chin, he pushes downwards on your jaw. With closed eyes, you stick out your tongue, waiting for him to enter. He lets go off of his fingers from your face, following up with exactly what you expected. It feels way bigger than what you anticipated, leaving your mouth sore in the first minute, already. He’s being frantic with you, mouth fucking you without relent. You’re huffing for air as you whimper, but you aren’t getting any. You start to sob as he goes deeper down your throat. As you move your tongue in a swing like motion, from side to side, you circle the bottom of his shaft as he shoves himself in an out. You soak his cock with your saliva, blending with his precum. No matter how much of it you gulp down, It’s flowing out your mouth.

Resting his elbows and head above you on the desk, he looks down at the top of your head, as you suck him off. From the table, as he rocks you around, all kinds of documents fly off. Not that he cares, really.

Without even telling, he comes into your mouth, throbbing against your lips. You stomach it all as you look up to him, initiating eye contact, and smiling. After spewing out his cock, you grab it by the base and gently rub it off with a napkin. He pulls his zipper up, and kneels down. He parts your hair slightly and greets your forehead with a last smooch.

Looking back at you for the final time, he waves at you, winks in a mocking, yet sweet way and leaves though the door. You can only wish to meet soon in a similar fashion.

VI. Reflection

You’re at a loss of thoughts. He’s been so careful, yet so careless with you at the same time, and that’s just messing with your brain right now, so you lean your head against the desk, you close your eyes and give into the bliss once again.

Even after he left, you’re sitting in the dark, in the same position he left you in, with his tie still around your neck. You feel embarrassed, but you can’t help yourself as you take in the scent of his tie, pleasuring yourself through your clothes, while thinking about him. He has a hold on you, and you know that well.

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: friday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, smutty smut-smut, this is an 18+ chapter so minors dni, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 6.7k

summary: buckle up people, because this is a long one! tonight is the night: the night you and marcus' dessert menu goes live, the night you meet natalie berzatto, and the night that truths are revealed.

a/n: is it hot in here or is it just me? who's ready for some smut? this will be the last chapter i post till sunday/monday, so we can all sit with this. hear me out: it's not that i think carmy is really good at sex. but there's so much tension between these two, i think reader is good at sex, and there's something to be said for being so turned on by the other person that it just hits different.

and here is that song -- the jazz standard turned acoustic cover.

read: part three | masterlist

Friday

“Just remember that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. You just have to deliver a really damn good dessert time after time,” you instruct, setting Marcus up, pre-dinner shift. 

“I think we should focus on the burnt basque cheesecake in lieu of the classic. You already have a heavier lift on the bake for the chocolate cake. That way, whatever happens with the mixer, or the ovens… this version of cheesecake is pretty forgiving. And you don’t have to fuck around with a water bath just yet.”

“The tiramisu is perfect because it’s a no-bake option, and you can mix it up with different kinds of flavors – call it a special.” 

“Like what we’re doing Sunday?” Marcus suggests, in reference to the strawberry, lemon, and mascarpone version you be doing at the end of the week.

“Exactly,” you reply.

“Hell yeah.”

“It all fits into the menu so nicely too: elevated classics.”

“A play on tradition.”

“Exactly."

“Ah, I see you, chef,” Marcus nods along, excited about tonight’s R&D night. 

The game plan is to serve smaller portions of each dessert for the price of one, then get feedback by the end of the weekend. 

“Hey, family’s up in a minute. You guys ready to roll tonight?” Carmy asks, stopping by you and Marcus’ little pastry corner. 

“Yes, chef,” you both answer, in staggered timing. 

“She got me workin’ on a strawberry compote. Here, try it, chef,” Marcus encourages, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping out a spoonful from the deli container it’s been stored in. Carmy takes it, putting the spoon in his mouth and he tries the compote. 

“That’s gonna be really good with the tang and slightly bitter outside of the burnt cheesecake. Good work, chef,” he congratulates, inspiring a grin across Marcus face. 

“I’m learning so much from you. Seriously. Thank you, chef,” he says, turning to you. 

“Hey, you’re the one that made the compote,” you reply, redirecting the praise back to him. “Just sayin’.”

“Family’s up!” Sydney calls out to the whole kitchen. 

You lock eyes with Carmy, and he nods towards the front of house as if to say, ‘follow me.’ You and Marcus file in through the limited space that leads from the kitchen to the front counter, then finally, into the dining area of the restaurant. Carmy had told you all about the hellish remodel of this place – that the two tops, booths, and bar remodel had taken for-fuckin-ever. That it looked like nothing more than a diner with a few arcade games before the reopen. 

“Hey, thanks for jumping in so that Angel could cover me the other night,” Ebrahim says to you, as you find a seat next to Carmy, and across from Marcus. 

“Oh, it’s no problem. You feelin’ better?” you ask back. 

“Very much so. A little rest and a little maraq digaag and I’m good as new,” he answers. 

“What’s good, Jeff? Surprised you’ve stuck around this long. Glad we haven’t scared you away yet,” Tina greets. 

Carmy’s shocked, considering Tina rarely warms up to anyone. 

You chuckle in response. 

“It takes a lot more to scare me away, chef,” you reply, confident that you can keep up with everyone’s witty banter. Even though you’ve been welcomed in over the last few days, you know that they were a family before you came. 

And will still be one after you. 

Right. Because this is temporary. You’re only here for a week, you remind yourself. 

“Yeah, thought she’d be long gone after workin’ the line the other night,” Richie chimes in. “Especially considering she’s way out of your league, cousin.” 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Carmy shoots back, almost instantly. 

“I’m just glad you’re here now. Man, it’s been three days and you’ve leveled my shit up already,” Marcus compliments. 

“Besides, it’s nice to have some solidarity amongst the little boys club we work in every damn day,” Sydney points out, eliciting a scoff from Richie.

The two of you share a look, like a psychic high five or some shit. It begins to dawn on you that you could get used to this: this kitchen, these people….

“What? You got something against women supporting women, Richie?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the voice of feminism now, Syd?” Richie spits back. “Holy shit! Did you guys know that we were here in the presence of the new voice of-.”

You watch as Tina and Gary slump in their chairs, as if to say, ‘here they go again.’

“Don’t be such a prick, Richie. Oh wait.” Sydney challenges. 

“You know what-?” Richie starts up, before being swiftly interrupted.

“Damn, Syd. This is fantastic,” you interject, your voice louder than normal, in reference to her family meal. “These tostadas are fuckin’ perfect and I’m gonna need the recipe.”

Richie continues to go on about god knows what, distracting himself, as Sydney mouths a, ‘thank you’ across the table towards you. You nod towards her as if to say, 

I got you.

*

“Hey, I’m a little behind on plating. Sorry, chef,” Marcus apologizes, and you can tell he’s stressed. He gestures towards the plates that are ready to go out to the bar. 

He hesitates before asking, “Oh and uh… these ones are ready to go out. Can you-?”

“‘Course, chef,” you answer, a mini-pep talk coming his way. “But uh… before you keep going, Marcus, take a breath. I know you struggle a little with pacing – you want everything to perfect – but, it’s gonna come with practice and repetition.”

You can see that he’s flustered – a little frustrated even. 

“Expediting during dinner is a whole other animal, and it’s just night one. You got this,” you reassure. 

You and Carmy had such different leadership styles. While you both had come up in the same kind of kitchens, you didn’t like to yell unless you had to. You were here to teach, and you can’t remember the last time someone screaming at you had ever helped you learn something. 

You’re more than happy to support him by taking these plates out. You spent the first half of dinner service plating so that he could get some face time with customers – since you’d be asking for feedback. Then you’d switch halfway through service.  You also thought it might be good practice for him to lead, considering they’d need to hire more help with the new menus. 

You take a look at the ticket, one dessert tasting - two people - bar top, before taking the dessert plates out to the designated seats at the bar. There’s a gorgeous blonde woman sitting next to a guy in a sweater vest, as you make to approach the bar top. 

“Hi, you guys,” you greet, a cheerful smile on your face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’re testing out a few new desserts for our dinner menu, so I’d love to hear what you think.”

“Oh this looks great,” the woman says, looking at both perfectly plated desserts. 

“Here we have a burnt basque cheesecake with a strawberry compote, The Bear’s signature chocolate layer cake, and then a classic Italian tiramisu,” you explain, walking through each piece. 

“Wow,” the man marvels, almost as if he’s surprised. 

You share your name with them, and let them know that, if they have any feedback, that they can ask for you. As you turn to go, the woman calls after you, stopping you. 

“Wait,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re Carmy’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“Pete, it’s Carmy’s friend!” she exclaims, nudging the man next to her with her elbow to try to jog his memory. “You know! The one that’s staying in our airbnb.”

“Oh!” he says, as the light bulb goes on in his brain. “Yeah, we’ve heard all about you.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “I’m Natalie, his sister, but you can call me Sugar. This is my husband, Pete.”

“Oh my god! Natalie! Yes, I’ve heard so much about you too,” you reply, finally registering that this was the same woman in family photos that Carmy had shown you years ago. “It’s so nice to put a face to the name. And great to meet you too, Pete. Seriously, thanks for letting me stay at the place. I mean, you really didn’t have to.”

“Likewise,” she says back. She scoffs before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Leave it to Carmy to ask us for a favor and not even introduce you to us, that soft shitty bitch!”

“Babe,” Pete starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on Carmy, you know, in front of his-.” He gestures towards you and you’re not sure what he thinks you are to Carmy. 

Sugar brushes him off with a, ‘whatever,’ before you notice that they’re both in need of clean forks. 

“You guys need clean forks. I’m gonna-,” you start. 

“Oh no! I uh-, let me get it,” Pete interrupts, practically jumping out of his seat. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaving the two of you alone. 

You lean against the bar top towards Sugar. 

“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” you say with a laugh, stating the obvious. She laughs with a nod towards her husband. 

“Yeah he’s… special,” she replies. “I think he uh, I think he just wanted to give us some time to talk.” 

You’re not sure what to say next, because you’re not sure what you and Carmy’s sister, one you’ve never met before, would have to talk about. 

“So how’s the place? Do you have everything you need or-?” Sugar begins, in reference to the airbnb. 

“Oh! Yeah, no it’s great. I’ve got everything I need. Again, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“No, we wanted to!”

“Thanks…” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable – nervous, maybe? Yep, definitely nervous, you realize, as you begin to ramble. “It’s a really great apartment. Beautifully styled.”

What the fuck are you even talking about, you think to yourself.

“Oh, I did that! Styled it, I mean,” Sugar’s quick to respond.

“Oh, wow!” you say. Were all the Berzattos creative? “Yeah, I just-, I really appreciate it. Made getting out here a little easier.”

“No, yeah, it’s-, it’s no problem,” Sugar continues. “Really… anything for a friend of Carmy’s.” 

You’re not sure why it’s so awkward, and it feels like you’re somehow both dancing around something you’re not even sure you should be dancing around. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m a total bitch for saying this but,” Sugar starts, cautiously. While she doesn’t want to make her brother look like a total loser in front of you, she’s also unsure of how else to say what she says next. 

“Bear's never really had any friends… not a lot of them, at least. So I-. Thank you. I mean. For being his friend, I guess… is what I’m trying to say.” 

Bear.

You figure it's a family nickname. You wonder why you’ve never heard it before, and yet, it’s no surprise that he kept it from you. He’d been so evasive about his family when you’d first met. For a bit, it just felt like a topic that was off limits.

You take a beat, processing what she’s just said. In some ways, you always knew that Carmy was a bit of a loner, but you could feel the weight of what she’s saying – how much it meant to her. 

“I know he’s not always easy to love but. I don’t know. He acts like he doesn’t need people, and I know he does. I mean, people outside of this fucked up shit hole anyways,” she continues, gesturing to her surroundings. 

You agree with a small laugh, “Yeah, he can be a real dick sometimes. That’s for sure.” 

“Seriously. Thank you,” she says, genuinely. 

“Of course,” you reply, making sure she knows that her words mean a lot to you. You take a more playful tone as you continue. “To be fair, we did meet in another fucked up spot. Not so much a shit hole though.”

“Yeah, and there’s that,” she sighs, lightheartedly. 

“I’m just glad he has someone. He needs someone. Even when he doesn’t want to.”

The rest of dinner service is a blur, as your mind continues to incubate on what Sugar had said to you. You let your interaction with her sit there, but try your best to focus on supporting the rest of service. 

You all work together to wrap up the evening – a chaotic dinner service with a lot of lessons learned. You and Carmy are the last to leave as you notice he’s wrapping up a few things in his office. With your jacket on, backpack slung over one shoulder, you stop by to say goodnight before heading out. 

He’s sitting in the chair, furiously scribbling a few notes down on a few pages of graphing paper. Your eyes flicker over all of the silly doodles on the whiteboard behind him. 

“Hey,” you say, causing him to look up from his notebook. 

“Good service tonight,” he says back. 

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Desserts were a hit.”

“I heard,” he replies. 

You wait for him to say more, only he doesn’t. 

“So, I’m gonna get out of here. Marcus is gonna fly solo tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in till the dinner shift,” you start, shooting him a polite smile. 

You take a few steps away from the office before he calls out to you. 

“Hey!” 

You stop, taking a few steps backwards so that you’re standing in the office doorway once again. 

“You hungry?” he asks, tentatively. 

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify: a little nervousness, and something else you haven’t had a chance to name yet. It’s like he’s not ready to part ways with you yet. You smile back at him, hoping to quell whatever nerves he has about the question he just asked you. 

“Always, Carm.”  

You’re tired and your feet ache from a particularly busy service, but you’re not ready to part ways with him either.

“Watcha thinkin?” you ask curiously, sliding your other arm through the loose strap of your backpack. 

“Can I cook you something?” he proposes, hopefully.

You laugh. 

“Is that even a real question?” 

You wait for him as he wraps up his notes and gather his things. Carmy slips on his jacket and ballcap, ready to head home with you. On the way, he lights up a cigarette, offering one to you, but you tell him that you’re trying to quit – or at least trying to cut back. It’s not a long walk back to his place, and you anticipate it being something along the same lines as what he had in New York: facebook marketplace couch, minimal food in the fridge, a TV and a bed. 

Nothing else – just a place to sleep, before he spends most of his day at the restaurant. 

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to see that your assumptions were correct. Carmy flips on a few lights as you follow behind him. You drop your book bag onto his couch, slipping your shoes off and removing your jacket, as Carmy bee lines for the kitchen. You hear the faucet turn on as you tentatively explore his small apartment, before meeting him in the small kitchen area.

He takes his time, washing his hands, before drying them on a dish towel and throwing it over his shoulder. 

“So what are we makin’, chef?” you inquire.

“We aren’t making anything. You’re gonna sit right over here,” he begins, gesturing towards the area across from his gas stovetop. “Oh shit. Hold on. Let me grab you a-.”

“I’m good here, chef,” you interrupt, making a sound as you hop onto the kitchen counter. You immediately reach for the bag of chips he’s thrown onto it. It’s not even closed properly with a clip or anything so expect them to be stale as you pop one of the chips into your mouth.

“Sour cream and onion? Change up from your regular doritos, huh?”

A small smile spreads across his face as he moves around his kitchen, locating a quarter sheet pan. He opens his practically desolate fridge, pulling out a fresh brick of pecorino romano, guanciale, and a few eggs he throws right into the pint-sized deli container that lays on the sheet pan. The rest follow: an unopened pound of dried spaghetti and black pepper, before he gently places the sheet pan on the counter, beginning to preheat two pans on the stovetop. 

“Are you-?”

“Uh huh.”

You smile to yourself. He’s making one of your favorites: carbonara. 

The first time he’d made it for you, you had just started spending some of your days off together – had just agreed to be a part of each others' quarantine pods. You knew he had Italian-American heritage but it was blatantly obvious when you took your first bite.

“Holy fuck,” you had practically moaned at your first bite. “This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude.”

You had tried to convince him that this is the food you both should be cooking, but he vehemently denied the idea, insisting the fine dining was the highest on the food chain and the only way he could make a name for himself. 

He’d been drinking the kool-aid. You both had. 

You sit quietly, as Carmy works. You watch as he cuts perfect lardons, then renders the fat from the cured pork bits. The smell of the guanciale begins to fill the apartment, and Carmy opens a window, just to let the smoke dissipate. 

“You can uh, put some music on if you want,” Carmy says, motioning towards the small bluetooth speaker he has on the coffee table. You agree to, hopping off of the kitchen counter and making your way towards his living area to set up the speaker.

You flip through your phone, looking for a good playlist to put on, settling on one of your dinner party playlists. The speaker booms with the sounds of an old jazz standard, redone as an acoustic cover, and you turn the volume up a little as the water for the spaghetti comes to a boil. 

You spend time looking through Carmy’s bookshelf. It’s filled with thick-spined cookbooks from James Beard winning best restaurants and chefs. You drag your fingertips over the spine of a few classics, but settle on a fairly new book, written by someone at the New York Times. 

“Do you have any other books besides cookbooks?” you call out to him. 

He lets out a dry laugh and you take it as a no. 

You make your way back to your spot on the counter, sliding the open chip bag over, before hopping back up to your seat. You flip through the cookbook as Carmy stays busy with the pasta. 

It’s quiet moments like these that you’ve missed so much. Some days the two of you could talk for hours about sous vide vs reverse searing, and the right way to make a fucking bearnaisse sauce. Other days, Carmy wasn’t much for conversation, and you loved those ones equally. Sometimes, you just wanted company, so he’d come over and work on a recipe and you’d read while he worked in your kitchen.

You could just be together, and it was nice to feel that again. 

No awkward tension of things left unsaid. 

But there was a different kind of tension that seemed to linger between the two of you and you wondered if it had always been there. Had you just never noticed? Between the little comments from Richie about being out of his league, and Pete’s open-ended ‘not in front of his’ you wondered if everyone knew something you didn’t. 

“Which one’d you go with?” he asks, continuing his graceful dance around the kitchen. 

“Korean American. Eric Kim. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up a copy for myself yet, actually,” you answer, flipping through the first few pages.

Your met with quiet as you continue your story.

“You know we’re kind of friends. We went out for drinks a few times. Before I quit my job. Went dancing in the east village and stayed out till two in the morning bar hopping and gossiping about our mutual celebrity crush, Timothee Chalamet,” you add, your attention still fixed on the vibrant, colorful food photographs. 

“Timothee Chalamet, huh?” Carmy asks, amused.

Your attention isn’t on Carmy, or what he’s doing, save for the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. That is, until you look up to find him unceremoniously close to you, peering over onto the page you seem so fascinated with.

“Jesus Christ, Car!” you gasp, surprised by his close proximity. Your heart was beating faster as he took a step back.  “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head hanging as he takes a few steps back. “Didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay!” you assure. But it’s too late, so you change the subject, deciding to finish your story. “Anyways uh… I had to hang out with someone after you left New York. Make some new friends.”

“We both know you’ve never struggled with that,” Carmy points out, eliciting a playful eye roll from you. 

He returns with the most aesthetically pleasing twirl of spaghetti carbonara. It’s so perfect you almost can’t fathom eating it. He hands it to you, then returns to his kitchen counter, plating a second bowl for himself.

After finishing the second twirl, he carelessly tosses his carving fork into the sink, opening another drawer to grab two forks for eating.

“Come on. You don’t want it to get cold,” he encourages, handing you one of the forks. 

He waits patiently for you to try it first, so you dig your fork in, creating a spaghetti twirl that hugs the fork, before raising it up to your lips. You open your mouth, taking a bite, before closing your eyes in absolute bliss.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

He smiles, and it’s the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face this whole week. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean. Fuck you. Like… absolutely fuck you.”

He laughs, finally picking up his own fork and digging into the second bowl he’s plate for himself. 

Holy fuck, is it out of this world.

“Like, do you think they’re such a thing as a talent aggression? Like a cute aggression, only I want to squeeze your head off because you’re so damn talented-kind of aggression?” you pitch your idea to him, playfully. 

He laughs, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Uh… no. I don’t think so.” 

Carmy rests his back against the counter, as you eat together, side by side. You eat quietly, exchange looks and quiet giggles as the two of you finish your pasta, slurping up the cheesy, egg-yolk coated noodles. When you finish your bowl, you put it down on the counter next to you, throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“Thank you,” you say, fully satisfied as you feel the dopamine rush of eating carbs. 

“That good, huh?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face. 

“So good,” you exhale happily, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know it, you asshole.” 

He chuckles, turning his head towards you just as you lift your head off of his shoulder, your faces mere inches away from each other. You watch as his face turns a few shades darker, the blush across his cheeks running through his whole face. 

Are you two fucking idiots to pretend that you were just friends?

Yeah. Yes, you are.

“Sorry, I’m, I didn’t mean to um,” he stutters, beginning to pull away from you.

“Wait,” you call out, reaching out to stop him. You grab his arm. 

And there it is again… the tension. That thing that, even when you had talked it out, has remained between you two. He stops moving, his eyes fixated on your hand – the one that’s reached for him. The one that feels hot against his skin. 

“Carm, I-. Um, I’ve really missed…” you stammer through, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel. 

I’ve really missed you.

“... your carbonara.” He looks up at you with those beautifully sad, cerulean blue eyes, and if you weren’t breathless before, you certainly are now. 

“You should make this more often,” is all you manage to get out, and you know you sound helpless. 

He doesn’t know what to say back. That he can hear the ache in your voice – a yearning for him that he never imagined anyone could ever have for him. That it’d be world war three, trying to get a carbonara on the dinner menu. That screaming would ensue over a goddamn emulsion. That there’d be no way to pull this off authentically, and that he’d have to use heavy cream, and no fucking way would he compromise on that. 

On your favorite fucking dish. 

That he only has these ingredients on hand because he went out and bought them in preparation for your visit. 

That he only got them for you. 

Because he maybe only wants to make carbonara for you, and only you, for forever and ever. 

That he’s missed you too, and that wanting you is one of the scariest things he’s ever felt. 

His eyes flicker from your hand, the one still holding onto him, and then back to your face. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he can hear his brother’s voice in his head, let it rip, pushing him to lean in – even closer towards you. You wrap your fingers around his arm, encouraging him closer to you – if it’s even possible. Your foreheads meet and it’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It’s like your vision narrows and the dimly lit apartment has faded away behind you. 

It’s just you and him. 

You feel dizzy – in the most delicious way possible.

You’re not sure who moves in first, but the tip of his nose is ever so gently bumping against yours. You brush the side of your nose against his, neither of you daring to take a breath. 

“Carm?”

He doesn’t answer, so you gently begin to leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

“This okay?”

Then the side of his top lip. 

“Mhm,” he nods, eager to continue where this is going. 

Then you pull back, pulling him towards you so that, as you remain perched on top of his kitchen countertop, he fits perfectly between your knees. You lean in to kiss him, and this time, it’s not as hesitant… not as cautious as you’ve both been. 

No, these kisses are different, each one opening up the door to more and more – more want, more need, more lust – and as it blooms, as it blossoms, you feel Carmy’s hand move gingerly to cradle your face as you fall down the rabbit hole. Your fingers tangle into his blonde curls allowing your sheer want for him to consume you. It’s lips, and tangled tongues, and tentative, soft moans as you continue to pull each other closer and closer.

And you slowly begin to understand: the lingering tension, the avoidance of labeling you from his brother-in-law, why he’s been terrified to say a damn thing to you this entire week.

As much as you tried, and as much as he’s tried, neither of you had put that night behind you. 

Sure, it was shitty timing, and sure he wasn’t in the right headspace then. But now? 

Now, could be different, if you’d let it. 

Carmy pulls away from you, reluctantly, his face hot before asking, “You uh, you wanna take this somewhere else?”

His tone is hopeful, as if he’s the teenage dirtbag asking the prom queen out – like if you heard him, and you laughed in his face, he simply wouldn’t survive it. 

But your response is quite the opposite, and he feels silly for worrying, as you manage a breathy ‘yes’ going back in for one more kiss. He gives you some space to hop off the counter and you grab his hand, leading him towards his bedroom. It’s not a huge place, so you put two and two together about where that is. Carmy leaves the lights off in his bedroom, the only glimmer of light either of you can see comes from the living room lamps, and the kitchen overhead. 

With his hand in yours, you pull him towards you again, and he’s more than happy to let you lead. You begin to kiss him, taking note of how perfectly his top lip feels nestled in between yours. He follows you down to his bed, hesitant to put his full body weight on top of you. You giggle into the kiss, pulling him down to you. 

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Carm,” you tease, gently. 

You feel his lips twist into a smile against yours, as he begins to leave sloppier, wetter kisses down your neck. You allow him to explore as his hesitation lessens, his hands beginning to bunch up the hemline of your shirt. Higher and higher. And before you know it, you’re taking it off, impatiently throwing it somewhere you’ll barely remember in the light of day. You pull Carmy back down for another kiss, this time with a little more intensity, as he covers his body with yours, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of newly revealed skin that he possibly can. 

You’re not sure when his shirt joined yours on the floor but before it registers, you’re running your fingers across the muscles of his back, exploring each peak and valley. You hiss in pure pleasure as he pulls down one of the cups of your bra, his tongue running across one of your nipples. You can feel him smile against your skin, a well-won reaction from the pleasure he’s giving you. His other hand reaches up to give equal attention to your other breast, and moments later, you’re both impatiently pulling your bra off. 

“Wanna try something,” Carmy murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. 

You can feel the wet heat pooling between your legs as you breathe out, “Okay.”

The anticipation is building in your body and you feel like your head might explode. Carmy busies his mouth once again, leaving kisses down your torso as his hands begin to fiddle with the button on your jeans. You giggle, more than willing to help him out as he gets them undone, lifting your hips so that he can slide them off. 

He’s hesitant, and you’re trying your damnedest to be patient as he takes his sweet time to marvel at your almost-naked body. 

“So fucking perfect,” Carmy whispers, in between leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across your hip bones. You can hardly breathe, panting out loud as he continues his exploration. You make space for him between your legs as he slips his hands into your panties, dragging a finger up and down your dripping sex.

He checks in with you, gauging your reaction, and you nod as he continues what he’s doing. 

“This all for me?” he asks. He means for it to sound confident, but as the words leave him, he sounds more surprised than anything.

Before you can answer, he’s pushing your legs wider, his tongue gently running across your clit, causing you to cry out to the gods. He’s tentative at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to gather up the confidence to keep going, with the noises you’re making. At first it’s all tongue, licking, circling and flattening up against you, but you’re losing your mind as he adds his fingers back into the mix. His fingers are buried deep inside of you while his lips and tongue are bringing you far past your edge.

It’s as if the only words you can remember are his name, and ‘fuck.’ 

You feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he murmurs, “Just wanna make you feel good.”

You can feel it – your climax – building up, and Carmy groans, rutting his hips into the bed as he can no longer ignore how hard he is. 

“Carmy, yes. Don’t stop, please. I’m-,” you beg, your voice shaking.

And he has no intention of stopping till he gets what he wants – till he makes you cum. He works you through your orgasm, groaning against you as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers. You swear for a moment that you can’t hear a single thing as stars fill your vision. As you come to, it starts with only the sounds of the heavy pants that escape your mouth. Carmy sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Holy fuck,” you say, breathless. 

Carmy lays over you once again, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his lips. 

Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans and you order, no patience left in a single cell of your body, “Off. These need to come off.”

He chuckles, hurrying through the removal of his jeans. You’re so eager to feel the weight of his body on top of yours again that you pull him back down to you before he’s even able to properly take them off. 

He’s kissing you again as you reach down, grabbing his hard length through his underwear. He’s thicker than you remember. You slip your hand into the waistband of his briefs, causing him to grunt. He hisses your name as you wrap your soft hand around his dick, bucking his hips into your hand. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, desperately. “I wanna feel you, Carm.”

“Mhm.”

He doesn’t keep condoms around. It’s not like this happens very often for him. But Richie had thrown a pack of condoms at his head the minute he found out that the friend that was coming to visit was a girl. Richie had teased him with some stupid quip like ‘don’t forget to wrap it up, cousin. No one wants a mini-eleven madison park dickhead running around here.’

He hadn’t expected this to happen. But it’s not like he’d thrown the condoms away either – tucking them into the single drawer of his nightstand. 

You wait as he reaches over and pulls out a condom from his nightstand. You want to ask him about why he has them, but as long as you get to feel him, you’re not sure you care. 

You’ve been here before with him, but this is different. He sits up on his knees and you follow him, pulling his briefs down properly and giving him time to roll on the condom. He follows you back down onto the bed as you wrap a leg around his waist so that he can fit perfectly between yours. 

He waits a beat, and then you feel his thick tip pushing against you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He rubs the head up and down your slick core, before slowly beginning to push into you. 

You both gasp at the feel of each other. 

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, dropping his head into the crevice of your neck. He hopes you can’t tell how utterly helpless he feels.

You hiss at the way he’s stretching you open, the pads of your fingertips digging into his arms. You’re holding onto his arms for dear life as he fills you all the way to the hilt. You let out another moan as you as he stays there for a moment. 

“This okay?” 

You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again. You start moving your hips against his as Carmy gives you shallow thrusts. 

“Hold on,” he breathes out, holding your hips down for a moment. “Just-, just give me a second.” 

And you do, allowing him to collect himself, before he’s giving you shallow, gentle thrusts. 

But you’re in desperate need for more. 

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Fucking move.” 

Finally, finally, he pulls almost all the way out, before driving himself back into you, earning a cry from you as the pleasure is just too much. 

“Oh fuck!”

You want more. You want everything and all of him and so much more. And he gives it to you, continuing to check in that what he’s doing is okay. Before you know it, you’re begging him to go faster, harder, convincing him that you’re not fucking breakable and that you want more, grasping at the sheets and his biceps, and his curls –  anything you can hang on to as he’s bringing you over your edge again for the second time tonight. 

You’re crying out his name as you cum, and Carmy thinks it may be the sweetest, best thing he’s ever heard in his life. He fucks you through your climax, beginning to slow down the pace of this thrusts. He pauses, kisses you long and hard, passionately pausing just to be in this moment with you. 

“Carm?” you manage to get out. You wonder if he can hear how much you want him just by the sound of your voice. 

“Hm?”

“I wanna ride you,” you say, and you can feel that your words have gone straight to his dick as he twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you clumsily change positions – him on his back staring up at you in awe, like how the hell does that perfect, beautiful, creature want to be here with me now? You reach down, guiding him back inside of you and you’re both gasping at the contact. You begin grinding your hips against him, watching his eyes roll back as you make your movement a little bigger. 

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs out, the pleasure of it all taking over his brain. 

You know he won’t last much longer as you begin to ride him, rocking your hips back and forth. Carmy hands are on your hips, then running up and down your torso, grabbing your tits, and then they’re pulling you down to him for another passionate makeout as you continue your movements. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep riding him, reaching for his hands and placing them along your hips. 

“Show me how you want it,” you whisper in between kisses. 

“I think this is nice,” he manages to say. 

“Show me how you want it, Carmen,” you demand, emphasizing your need for him with use of his full name. “Let me make you cum.” 

You squeeze his hands against your ass, egging him on, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. He holds onto your hips, before thrusting up into you, setting a bruising pace as your moans become louder and louder. You scream out his name, as he brings you closer and closer to your high, chasing his with him. 

He grunts, his thrusts becoming sloppier, messier, more desperate and you let him use your body in the most delicious ways. 

“Are you gonna cum?”

Instead of answering, he’s driving into you like a fucking mad man, and you’re riding him through his high till you both collapse. 

Carmy lets out a strangled moan as he cums, so you begin to slow your movements. You’re breathless, hunched over him, your foreheads touching as you exchange a laugh.

It's a kind of 'I can't believe we just did that' kind of laugh.

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” you agree, a stupid, blissed out smile on both of your faces.

“That was-.”

“Yeah.”

You get off of him, allowing him to get up and dispose of the condom. He’s not gone long before he returns to you, wrapping the both of you up in his sheets and into his arms. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever had. 

It feels… magnificent. 

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, leaving a few soft kisses along your shoulder. 

“After that?” you giggle, as his lips against your neck begin to tickle. “You’re not getting rid of me, Berzatto. Not a fucking chance.”

read: part five

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney

[dragongirl642]

H-heya! Could i ask for an shy female dragon shifter reader with Lady D. and Donna? Like she's heavily injured by hunters and had to crash/land into their home because of it? How would they react or would they even help her?

(I Love Dragons but see most of the time only male dragon shifters uwu

I feel like both their initial reactions would be very similar to the other Male Dragon Shifter meeting post, (a.k.a: This post).

Alcina Dimitrescu

At first, all Alcina sees is the giant hole in her castle walls and the giant lizard in her hall and she goes into attack mode.

She aims for your injuries, so you curl into a spiky ball of scales and flame.

Turns out your scales are Alcina proof so unless you uncurl and she can get at the flesh beneath, she can't hurt you.

She may lose a limb to your flames.

She is incensed at your presence and forbids her daughters from going near the hall.

But you are very warm, you're inner fire counteracting the cold winds coming in through the hole in the wall, and the Dimitrescu daughters are attracted to the giant warm cuddly lizard.

You warn them off a few times, but they keep spouting curious questions and attempting to come close that eventually, once your natural regeneration has sealed the surface of your wounds, you allow them to sit between the spines on your tail and examine your claws. (You can easily turn and burn them if they pose a threat.)

Alcina is furious that her daughters disobeyed her and approached you, and yet equally furious that you are entirely different from the mindless beast she'd warned them against.

When she sees your human form for the first time, I see Alcina doing a complete 180, (compared to her reaction in the other post).

Oh, you're a Pretty Maiden?!?!?! Well why didn't you say! Come closer, let me look at you Darling. *bites you! bites you! bites you!*

Yeah, she will pretty much try and get you to let your guard down and then go for the CHOMP.

You fight her off of course, half-shifting is easy for you.

Now you can be a fire-breathing menace AND roam the halls.

You have gone hunting a few times, and you brought your kill back to the castle. Dripping blood on the carpet and sitting in her great hall tearing into carcasses like an animal. (Her children love that you let them feast on the leftovers after they've sat for a few hours.)

Alcina is sulking. She can't kill you, she can't eat you, she can't just sit back and let you stay without at least making a show of removing you without losing the respect and support of Mother Miranda.

But then said Mother Miranda shows up and is promptly sent off with burned wings.

Okay, now she's a little worried. She is not certain she could beat you even in her full mutant form and her daughters adore you for SOME REASON.

After several weeks, she looses it, storms into the hall and unleashes a verbal lashing her ancestors would be proud of. The effect is only slightly reduced by the fact that she bursts into frustrated tears and flees the room to go dramatically wallow in her sorrow.

Okay, now you feel kind-off guilty. You did crash into this woman's home, burn her boss, monopolise her daughter's attention, and ruin the carpets. Maybe you should do something to make up for all that.

You repair the walls the best you can, replaster over scratches in the walls, hunt down the castles cleaning supplies and soak the carpets in a potion of bleach and foaming soapy water before hanging them from the battlements to dry.

Your final act of apology comes in the form of draining the blood from your kills and leaving them in sealed jugs by her bedroom door, handwritten notes tied to the handles.

You are a new exciting variable and her daughters try to help by going to their mother and telling her about what you're doing.

Every day, you wait outside her doors for hours waiting for her to emerge.

When she finally does, it is to your offer of a truce. You are being hunted and will not leave this very conveniently guarded hiding spot, however, you can be useful and help her with her food supply.

She is doubtful when presented with the blood of animals, but when you acquire human blood through negotiating trades with the villagers she slowly starts to change her tune.

You're a smart pretty lady and you have presented her with a charming little solution to the problem of the future dwindling supply of villagers to feed from.

Alright, Alcina has come to the decision to be the merciful, graceful mistress of the castle who allows a poor hunted lady to stay with her. (Keep telling yourself that Alcina).

After a few months, it starts to feel a little more comfortable.

After a few more, it starts to feel normal.

She caught herself running her hand down your scales once, marvelling at how the light reflected, (she will forever deny that she did that).

You start to lay down your claim and soon have built up a new hoard of trinkets, and maids, and mutants. The glittering gem crowning your hoard, is Alcina herself, not that she knows yet.

Once you've established yourself and Alcina doesn't outwardly reject your claim, you become quite the homemaker.

You are fierce and strong and loving.

You provide the warmest cuddles known to man, or mutant.

You cook for your new family, catering for their 'special' diet is a little easier with your own predilection to a carnivore diet.

Alcina will brag to the other Lords about "her darling", "the dimitrescu dragon", "the second dimitrescu lady," but only out of earshot of Mother Miranda.

Donna Beneviento

Pretty much the same reaction as the other post...except she's a bit braver about approaching you due to seeing your obvious injuries.

She has several dolls in attack mode ready to go, (not that they would work against your flame.

You know you could easily incinerate this woman but you attempt polite conversation through gritted fangs. You ask about her hobbies, favourite foods, favourite colours, etc..., and offer your own answers in return.

The talk calms her and she seems less frightened and more welcoming.

It takes a few days for her to really trust you.

Oddly enough you get the feeling she liked you a little more after Mother Miranda visited and berated her for not eliminating the threat (you) before being quickly chased of by a living flamethrower (also you).

When you shift to your human form to make it easier, she's surprised and immediately more comfortable with you.

Donna knows a lot about medicinal plants but zero about dragon biology. You know all about dragon biology and zero about medicinal plants. Together you make one whole doctor...and figure out how to make medicine for your wounds. It's patchy and a little funny-smelling but it does the job (at least you both think it does). To be honest, your natural regenerative capabilities take care of most of the damage.

Angie tries to play doctor too but is, admittedly, more of a hindrance than a help.

Your injuries are haphazardly patched and a good long sit by a lit fireplace does the rest.

You know your hunters are still out there, but this remote village is hidden and safe for now.

You decide to stay just until you need to move on.

Okay, Donna was not prepared for guests but now she has one.

She makes you some basic new clothes to cover you up and you collect firewood whenever she needs more.

After a while, she feels inspired by the way your scales gleam in the firelight and excited at the prospect of having a new friend to play dress up with, Donna offers to make you some dresses. Dresses with holes and pins to accomodate your wings and tail, delicate lace fingerless gloves allowing your claws to shine through.

You accept the gifts only because she seems so eager and it would be rude to deny your host, (not because she's cute).

You do what you can for her in return. As it turns out you can cook more substantial food than tea party sandwiches; which Donna definitely appreciates.

The dolls unnerve you, but you learn to live with them.

You install more lights in the manor and fix leaks in the roof.

There are long talks by the fireplace. She reads to you sometimes.

After a few months, you and Donna starts to build a comfortable rhythm.

After a few more, it starts to feel homely.

You attend a tea party she holds for the other Lords. When someone (Heisenberg) makes a comment that has Donna cringing, you growl, a loud deep vibration that (along with the glow in your eyes and fire shining through the skin of your chest) instills fear in all attending. Donna now has scary dog (dragon) priviledge.

You tell yourself your protectiveness is because she's your benefactor (totally not because you have a crush on the pretty, shy dollmaker with a voice like honey and temperament to match).

Okay, who are you kidding, you want to claim a new hoard here...you want to stay with her.

After a few accepted offerings of food made from your hunted game, a few accepted cuddles, and the painstaking labour of building and decorating a new conservatory with an unfolding roof cover for stargazing, (which Donna immediately hugs you in thanks and immediately outfits with a planter full of herbs), you consider your claim accepted.

You are fierce and strong and loving.

You provide the warmest cuddles known to man, or mutant, (or doll).

Once she feels comfortable enough and like she has permission, Donna is so sweet with you.

You compliment and build her up, and soon her confidence soars.

Donna goes from one of the weakest Lords to the strongest.

You burn the creepy baby monster in the basement, it's the one thing you couldn't live with.

[roolette]

loved your smoke nsfw alphabet and hoped that you could do the same with Johnny? thanks 😁

You KNOW I can do that

Johnny Cage NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Gonna be real, it takes him some time to get into the habit of doing aftercare. He's used to quick hookups, emotionless sex, etc, and he isn't sure how to go about aftercare. Still, he tries. First, he'll offer you a towel. Then, he'll actually be the one to clean you up. Eventually, aftercare becomes normal for him, and he gets really excited about being able to hold you and kiss you after sex. He likes to lie against your chest and kiss your neck

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

All of it. For both you and him. For him, I mean, isn't that obvious? He's THE Johnny Cage, he's sexy as fuck. Specifically, he really likes his hands. For you, he thinks that you're just hot, and he likes the whole package. He really likes your neck, though. Easily kissable and looks great when marked up.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

If you let him cum on your face, he's yours forever. Literally loves the way you look with his cum dripping down your cheeks. Will wipe it off your face and have you open your mouth so he can stick his finger in. He thinks it's the hottest thing.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's a total exhibitionist, and really likes the idea of people seeing the videos you two have made together. Obviously, he'd never do anything without your consent, but if you were ever down, he'd make sure the world knew just how good he fucks you. You'd probably be trending on Twitter.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Experienced in sex, not as experienced in something as intimate and loving as you two. He'll have to remind himself that it's okay to go slow, that you aren't going anywhere, and he can take his time with you.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

He likes when you ride him. He gets a front row seat to you loosing yourself on his dick, and it's the perfect view. He'll hold your hips, thighs, and ass while you ride him, making sure you don't slow down. He'll tease you, too, and it quickly turns into banter.

"C'mon, don't tell me you're getting tired already, hun."

"You can't be the one calling me lazy right now."

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He makes so many jokes. Quips, quotes, everything in between. "Wow babe, you're so tight, that's so cool." There's just a lot of laughter and love here. You two have interrupted sex because you ended up getting into some weird debate or joke.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Man is HAIRLESS. Waxed. Such is the life of a star. He doesn't care about whether or not you shave, though. Hair is natural, after all.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

As much as he's goofy, as much as he dirty talks, there is obvious love and care in every move he makes with you. He wants you to have a good time, and he'll check in to make sure you are.

"Are you good? Like, you're sure? I can move?"

"I've been good for the past five minutes, Johnny. You can fuck me."

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He doesn't WANT to jerk off, he has the hottest partner in the world, so there shouldn't be any need for that. However, his work has him traveling a lot, which means sometimes he has to do what he has to do. Luckily, with the videos he has of you, there's plenty of jerk off fodder. He also likes phone sex if you're down, and he'll send plenty of pictures that manage to have both his face and dick in the picture- gotta include the whole package.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I've done a whole post on this here, but I'll add on to it! He likes using toys on you. If you're afab, he'll hold a vibrator to your clit while he fucks you. He also really likes lingerie, no matter what gender you are. He thinks it looks so good on you, and he'll pull the fabric to the side and fuck you.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

In your big bed, obviously. Also against the kitchen counter. Besides the obvious, he likes to fuck you at parties, in some side room or in the corner, not exactly in front of everyone, but dangerously close to being caught. He'll hold his hand over your mouth, whispering in your ear.

"Shh, shh... c'mon, you want everyone finding us out?"

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Everything. Breathe and he's hard. He likes when you dress up, and any pretty outfit is in danger of getting ripped off later. Also, if he's sitting down somewhere, randomly straddling his lap will absolutely do it for him.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Doesn't like HEAVY bdsm. He likes spanking you, but beyond that, he usually just feels weird and guilty if he hurts you any more beyond that. He's the furthest thing for a sadist. He won't get turned on if you cry during sex, he's going to check in and make sure you're okay.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Preferred receiving in the beginning, and still loves it. He likes seeing you look up at him with wide eyes while you suck his dick, holding your hair and guiding you along. Once he got a taste of you, though, that all changed. He could give you head for hours, loves to hear the noises you make. Don't make him choose, he loves both.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Likes going fast and rough, quickly making you cum before doing it again. He's an energetic guy, and going fast works for him. There are, of course, times when he'll go slow, drawing things out and making you squirm.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

LOVES THEM. Thinks they're exhilarating. He says they blow off steam, but he usually just ends up more riled up after.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He's game for the most part, except for anything that will hurt you too bad. Besides that, he wants to try different stuff with you, and he's pretty openminded.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

I don't think this man gets tired, ever. He can last multiple rounds, and he wants to make you cum as many times as he can. Likes to hear you whining and begging for release one more time.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

As I've said, likes using toys. If you're down to peg him, he is SO down for you to peg him. He gets pretty bratty and whiney when you top him, taunting you. Luckily, you're quick to put him in his place.

"Is that all you can do? I'm barely feeling it here."

"Shut up, Johnny. I'll give you something to feel."

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He's the literal worst. The type to finger you under the table with people there. He'll whisper in your ear, promising all the things he's going to do to you. And don't worry, he keeps every promise.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not only does he whine and moan, he TALKS. He will babble on and on about how good you feel, how well you take him, how hot you are. It's flattering, of course, but I don't think he could shut up if he tried. You wonder how he manages to cum when he's so busy talking.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

Thinks it's hot when you wear is clothes. No one can wear them better than him, of course, but he loves the way it's just a little too big on you. He'll fuck you in one of his shirts.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Longer than thick, and he knows how to use it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Again, breathe and he's hard. He's pretty much always willing, but understands if you're not. He'll always respect your boundaries. Sex is only fun if both people are into it, after all.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He likes to stay up talking with you, but since you guys usually do more than one round, it's easy for him to get tired. Likes falling asleep with you against his chest. He feels safe with you.

[ccscocoapuffs]

Mark Hoffman NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Mark is rather complex when it comes to aftercare. He definitely has to have strong trust in you to let his guard down and show you the softer side to truly care for you. The way he does this though is mostly through pulling you into his chest and gently playing in your hair. It's lowkey a head cannon of mine that Mark likes to fidget (ILL EXPLAIN THIS IN A UPCOMING POST!)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Mark loves his hands, I mean after all they do all his work. They allow him to pleasure you, caress you, and his personal favorite finger you. Marks an ass man....need I say more.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Mark doesn't really like super messy, He prefers to simply cum inside you. He would never admit it but he has a thing for watching it drip outta you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Mark secretly enjoys when you're a brat. Despite how rough he can be with punishments and how he wants you to follow his rules like a good little pet, he loves when you brat. It excites him for what he knows is about to come.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Mark definitely has experience, He knows exactly how to make you cum over and over again just with his fingers. Mark is also quick to adapt to what his partner likes, aka he's a quick leaner for each individual he's been with. ( *cough* Strahm *cough*)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Mark's favorite is doggy style without a doubt. He loves that he can not only pull your hips into him as fast as he wants but he can pull your hair, slap your ass, reach around and choke you....what more could you ask for.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Mark keeps it serious. I mean for starters its mark has anyone seen the man so much as smile? He's a serious guy and he likes it that way. Plus sex is kind of his way to get relief from a rough day or from being pissed off from whoever has done it this time. He uses sex as his release both psychical and mental, hence the seriousness.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Mark takes pride in his appearance, he keeps it trimmed down and presentable. The carpet definitely matches the drapes, Mark has Dark brown pubes that are the same as his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Mark actually can be kind of romantic at times. Now don't get your hopes up he isn't the rose petals and champagne kind of guy. But he may light a few candles and start things off really slow and sensual. However he's still gonna rip your clothes off you and absolutely rail you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Mark usually doesn't have the time. He stays super busy with work, both at the police department and with John. When he gets some free time he isn't gonna waste it on masturbating, He has you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) KINKY BITCH. Bdsm, choking, Daddy kink, spanking, and spit, just to name a few. Mark always keeps it interesting that's for sure.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) His office, Mark loves when you come to visit him and he gets to bend you over his desk and take what he wants. Mark also has a soft spot for fucking on his bed, he likes the comfortability of a familiar place and the privacy.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Mark Likes it when you wear skirts or dresses. He especially loves it if you don't wear panties with them. Nothing turns him on more than the thought that people are looking and he gets to show them you're all his. Whether it be by him keeping his hand on your waist all the time or from the other officers talking about the moans that come from his office when you are visiting him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Anything that involves you getting involved with Jigsaw. Mark doesn't want John to take advantage of you and use you as leverage against Mark. His biggest fear is losing you too.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Now hear me out here, I feel like Mark actually likes giving. He loves burying his face into you and moaning against you so you can get off on the vibrations from him being so fucking turned on by you. He eats pussy like a god 100%. However, he prefers receiving. He wants to fuck your fac though, he likes to be in control and use your throat for his gain.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Mark is always ROUGH. It's his only setting, he loves sensual kissing though. He wants to slowly suck on your collarbones, nip your neck just a little, then flip you around and fuck you into the mattress.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Mark doesn't really like quickies but sometimes its want you got to do. As mentioned before he loves fucking you on his desk, He loves that spot the most especially for quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Mark doesn't really experiment, he knows what he likes and he likes sticking to it. However he does love risky teasing in public, like slipping his finger into you while you're out for dinner or making you keep him warm while he's talking to another officer in his office.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Mark can go for about 3-4 rounds depending on the day he's had. If he's had a rough day and he's tired you're looking at a quick fuck. If he's had a stressful day, boy are you gonna be there awhile.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Mark is on the fence about toys. He for sure uses his handcuffs and he likes use Anal plugs on you (if you let him). Though he doesn't really like dildos or vibrators, you're his, only he gets to control your pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) EXTREMELY unfair. Mark gets off on teasing you, he wants to get you all worked up till the point you are begging for him to take you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Mark isn't very loud, he mostly just grunts ands groans. When he cums he tends to be louder and let out a deep moan as he buries his face in your neck.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He keeps a sexy picture of you clipped to the visor in hi patrol car. It's for when he works late nights, all he has to do is look up and take in how sexy your body is and how he get to go home and have you all to himself.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Mark is about 6 inches in length, He's very thick though. It's something he prides himself on, how much he stretches you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Medium, Mark can be either really chill or really horny. It really just depends what he's feeling.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Mark doesn't fall asleep quicky after sex, he's usually up for at least an hour afterwards. That's if he has time to lay down with you and fall asleep. He wants to pull you close and hold you for a bit before he falls asleep. He would never say it but he wants to make sure you are safe and comfortable, hence why he keeps an eye on you for a bit.

[mytheoristavenue]

Can you maybe do one of one piece men hearing their shy s/o yell at them for the first time? Or first time their shy s/o acts bratty ? Can be fluff , agnst or NSFW, whatever you'd like my love. I'm sure it'll turn out good , I loved your other ones that you've written!! ❤️❤️ BTW that sanji speaking French got my good 😫😫🤌 *chefs kiss*

I'll do all three! I hope it's alright that I only do Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Usopp for this one! Since I'm going to do three separate scenarios for each, it would be a lot of work to do that for as many characters as I included in my last post! If I missed anyone you specifically wanted, let me know!

Straw Hat Men + Shy!S/O Yelling for the First Time 🍋

Summary: How your Straw Hat boyfriend reacts to hearing you raise your voice for the first time in an angsty, fluffy, and NSFW scenario.

Waring: NSFW, MDNI, fluff, angst, fem!reader

Note: I did mark this one with a lemon as I usually do with NSFW content, but only 1/3rd of it will be! The different scenarios will be marked with a '💕💔🍋', for fluff, angst, and smut respectively. If you've seen any of my masterlists, they also operate under this same key.

Monkey D. Luffy:

💕 Your least favorite part of being a pirate was the fact that your boyfriend was your captain. If you could leave and join a different crew without it being a relationship ending action, you would most certainly consider it. It wasn't always bad of course, but with it was bad- it was awful.

As your lover, Luffy was stubborn, but as your captain it was ten fold. once he settled on a bad idea, there was no changing his mind, no matter how much your opinion as his partner mattered to him. Typically, it was something you could look pasted, but you had to admit, his last bright idea had left you bitter with him, and the way he hounded you for answers as you why you were ignoring him was doing him no favors.

"Awe, c'mon, babe!" he giggled, wrapping his elastic arms around your waist, pulling you back to him after you'd walked away from him. "I'm sorry you got all wet!" he offered, only receiving a sharp glare form over your shoulder.

Earlier that day, he had decided that everyone would go into the town to do some shopping on the island you'd ported on. You picked out a lovely floral sundress, and worn it out of the store after buying it, excited to show him how pretty it looked on you. To your surprise, and later anger, he enthusiastically scooped you up and tried to swing you along with him back to the Sunny, only to miss. Not only did you both collide with the ship's hull, but you also fell into the water, making his survival your responsibility.

"Luffy, that dress was very expensive. I rarely buy myself nice things, and the one time I did, I didn't even have it for ten minutes before you ruined it." you pouted quietly, still unwillingly wrapped in his arms.

"I'm sure it's not ruined, babe, we can wash it." he dismissed, making your blood boil. You couldn't contain your frustration at him.

"No, we can't!" you snapped, pushing him away to glare at him with hands on hips. "It's silk, you can't just toss it in the washing machine! I has to be professionally cleaned, and you just had us set sail away from the only place I could take it to! Who knows how long it'll take us to find another island with a dry cleaners', and even if we found one tomorrow, it wouldn't matter! The stain is already set!"

Luffy simply blinked at your ranting. He didn't understand any of what you'd just said. He wasn't even entirely sure what silk was or why it was so different from regular fabric, but he could recognize that he'd upset you, which he felt bad for. "Awe...I'm sorry babe." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck shamefully.

"You should be!" you huffed, crossing your arms and turning your back on him.

"Tell you what," he smiled, wrapping his arms around you again, this time laying his head on your shoulder. "Next time we port, we'll go out- just you and me and I'll take you shopping again. I'll have Nami set some of my money aside and it'll me my treat. And I'll see if Franky can build something that can wash silk." he negotiated, melting the tough coating around your heart. "We'll get you all the expensive clothes you want, and that way, you'll be able to to clean them if you need to."

"Luffy..." you swooned, turning in his arms to face him. "You promise?" He nodded with a ear to ear grin, and you threw yourself into his embrace. "Oh, I can't stay mad at you, you're too sweet!"

💔 The second time Luffy heard you raise you voice at him, it was a gut wrenching scream, accompanied by tears. The part that disturbed him most, however, was the fact that it wasn't really at him, but more for him.

"Stop it!" your voice rang out across a smoking battlefield, crack and desperate. "Please, stop, you'll kill him!" You were yards away, but you could still see the light leaving your boyfriend's eyes as he laid motionless on the ground from where you were being subdued.

The marines had ambushed the crew while at an island you'd stopped at for supplies. Kizaru stood over him, glancing over at you when he'd heard, his signature smug grin unfaltering as he made his way over to you. "That's the point, dollface."he cooed. "Dead or alive, or so the saying goes."

"P-Please," you negotiated. "Please, you can have me instead. I-I'm worth something right?" You struggled to remember your current bounty.

"You want me to give up one of the most wanted men on the seas," he chuckled, looming over you. "For a measly ten million berries?Honey," he smirked, eyes darting to Luffy, still unmoving, and back to you. "The only thing that makes you worth anything is your value to him. Now that we've got Straw Hat, we don't have a use for you."

"That's...not true..." a broken and tired voice graveled from where he once lay. Your hopefully eyes snapped to your partner as he slowly rose to face the admiral in your stead.

"Luffy!" you shrieked, relieved tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Still kickin', huh?" Kizaru laughed, turning his attention back.

"That's not true, (Y/N)." your captain continued, entirely ignoring his enemy, yet still walking towards him and not you. "You're worth so much more than being my girlfriend. You're a Straw Hat, and that means so much more!"

🍋 Luffy had never known you to be the most verbal person when it came to physical pleasures, and the silent sighs and tiny gasps became a common song that he learned to enjoy above all others. that was until he heard what you were really capable of.

"Oh, fuck, Luffy!" you cried, tossing your head back in eustasy. He froze entirely for a moment, gazing up at you in awe as you rode him, bouncing with delight, and cursing his name like the sailor you were. You were so entranced that you failed out notice his lack of participation as he watched you put in all the work he normally would.

Hearing those loud, dirty words tumble over your lips did something to him- snapped some sort of line that tethered him to his control. "(Y/N), baby?" he spoke lowly, breaking you of your spell. You immediately began apologizing, bringing your hands to cover your blushing face, only to be caught by the wrists. "What have you never moaned for me like that before?"

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me!" you sputtered, humiliated by your lewd behaviors.

"Well," he decided, guiding your trembling hands to his hair, before winding his rubber arms around your waist and clenching your doughy thighs as hard as he could without doing actual damage. "We're gonna fuckin' find out!"

Roronoa Zoro:

💕 You had been ignoring Zoro all day long and it was starting to drive him crazy, though he wasn't going to let you on to that fact. He eyed from from across the deck as you chatted with Nami about something he didn't care about. Anytime you would catch him looking at you, you'd huff, turn your nose at him, and make it a point to very sweetly ask Sanji for something. Every time, the doting chef would give into your every whim, bringing you parfaits, making you something special for lunch, or even a fancy glass of water with cucumber and mint. Finally, your boyfriend decided he'd had enough.

"Why are you acting like such a brat today?" he grilled sternly, looming over your lounge chair as you tanned. "You better not be trying to make me jealous of that damn cook."

You gasped dramatically, sharing a shocked looked with Nami, before you both rolled your eyes at him. "You've got some nerve calling me a brat." you spat back at him, turning your attention back to your magazine.

"Well, you're acting like one!" Zoro protested.

"Yeah, well," you huffed. "At least Sanji's nice to me and gives me attention when I want it!" Nami silently agreed with you, nodding her head as you spoke.

"Oh my God," your boyfriend groaned, rolling his eyes and slumping his shoulders. "Is that what this is about? Damn, you're so annoying."

You scowled at him, throwing your magazine onto the floor in a fit. "No, Zoro, you know what's annoying? Trying to spend time with your boyfriend, only to get passed up for lifting stupid weights!" you shouted, collecting the attention of many of your nakamas, which embarrassed him quite a bit. "All you do is work out or clean your damn swords! I wake up, and you're not in bed because your training, I go to bed and- same thing!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry I have to train to keep you protected you highness!" he snarled back at you. "It's not like I've saved your life or anything."

"Oh, thank you for not letting me die! Boyfriend of the damn year!"

"Jesus Christ," he growled, finally giving in under all the stares of his crewmates. "I'll skip work out tonight and we can cuddle all night, okay?"

"Okie dokie!" you beamed, demeanor immediately shifting back to the kind, sweet girl everyone knew you as. Zoro sighed, exhausted by your manipulation tactics; he needed a nap.

💔 Zoro's body froze solid, hearing you're voice from a location he couldn't pinpoint. His mind went into fight or flight mode as the fear and desperation in your voice struck him like a pendent in a church bell, sending vibrations all throughout him. "Zoro!"

"(Y/N)?!" he called back, spinning as he took in his surroundings. He could see so many people, but none of them were you. Where were you?

"Zoro!" Suddenly, you broke through the crowd, making a mad dash for him, leaping into his arms before he could register it. "Oh my gosh, I thought I'd lost you!" you cried into his chest. "I was so worried!"

He was still frozen, for the first time in his life unable to act. "Y-you were worried about me?" he stammered, having trouble wrapping his head around the idea.

"Yes!" you replied, nuzzling into his throat. "There's marines on the island, and when I turned around and you weren't there I thought you were in trouble!"

"If that's the case, you should have gone back to the ship." he scolded you lightly, trying to mask how much his heart melted at your concern. "Now we're both in danger."

You shook your head quickly. "No, I'm not going anywhere without you! We'll go back together!" You insisted. "What if you get lost again?"

His stern face softened into a loving smile, reflecting his feelings in the moment, before grabbing you by the hand. "Fine, let's go. You lead the way."

🍋 Zoro had never heard anything more lewd that the sounds he was extracting from you now. You were laid out in his arms, across his lap, his fingers reaching for invisible buttons inside you, making your tummy do flips. Each breath you took was ragged and punctuated a needy whine. Typically, you sang a song of soft hums, using his name as a refrain every so often, and he did adore that, but nothing could compare to the arousal he got from hearing you curse.

"Shit, Zoro, I-I-!" you were beyond the point of forming fully coherent sentences, most of them fading after a few words. His own breathing quickened as he worked you better and better by the minute.

"Yeah, baby," he groaned, his face contorting into a frustrated snarl. "Tell me all those dirty words you know."

God Usopp:

💕 "I said I'm sorry!" he squeaked, following you out of his workshop and into the bathroom. "It was an accident!" You ignored his pleas for your forgiveness as you walked up to the sink, leaning over to dip your head under the faucet. He had been showing you his newest star, when he shot it at a shelf, which in turn shook, knocking a bottle to toad oil onto your head. Your silence terrified him as he stood idly by watching you try to rinse it from your scalp. "I-If you let me take a bath with you, I'll wash it all out-" His nervous negotiations were cut short by your harsh glare.

He wrung his hands, pacing back and forth as you disrobed and slipped into the washroom, heading straight for the shower in the corner. Reluctantly, he followed you, fully clothed, unsure if he was meant to or not. "I really am sorry," he admitted, stepping up behind you as you say on the stool and poured a bucket of water over your head. "Here, let me." he insisted, thoroughly rinsing your hair before massaging product into it. You wordlessly allowed him to was the oil out of your hair, enjoying the quiet of the moment, until he ruined that too.

"A-Are you gonna break up with me?" he piped up anxiously.

"No!" you shouted with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm not going to break up with you over this, Usopp, I'm just mad!"

"Sorry," he replied, embarrassed at his silly question. "Thank you..."

"For what?" you snapped, wishing he would simply stop talking for a few minutes.

"Giving me another chance." he answered quietly. You felt your heart tear a bit at his insecurity.

"Usopp, I would never leave you over something this small." you confirmed, glancing at him over the shoulder. "I know it was just an accident, and I forgive you. I just need a few little quiet time to cool off."

He nodded, prompting you to relax as he lathered your scalp. Within minutes, you were putty in his hands, and happy as a clam again.

💔 The way his name came out of you mouth tore Usopp apart. Though you weren't together yet at this time, he still held so much undying love for you, but his pride had gotten the better of him. He ignored your sobs as he walked away from the crew, choosing a broken ship over everyone who cared for him- including you.

"Usopp, you stop right there!" you commanded, tears steaming down your face as you struggled to run after him. You'd seen him respond when Kaya did this, and you genuinely thought it would work, but obviously, given the circumstances, his love for her was much stronger than what he had claimed to have for you. "Please, come back! Usopp!"

You tumbled to the rocky shore of Water 7, having tripped over your own feet, your vision too obscured by tears to see straight. "Please!"

"C'mon, (Y/N)," Nami sniffled, pulling you to your feet only to hold you back from pursuing him further. "He's made his choice."

🍋 Usopp marveled up at you from between your thighs as you sat perched atop his face. As you rode, bucking your his against his chin, you failed to notice the escalation of your volume, but he didn't. He adored your shy, soft moans- even thought of them in his sleep but this was entirely new, and so much better.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" you chanted. "Love riding your pretty face, baby!" He melted beneath you as you writhed, crying out in ecstasy, using him the way you wanted. He watched as you raised your arms, tangling your fingers in your hair. "Wanna cum all over your face!" you sighed, entranced.

"Do it, angel." he purred, voice muffled by your heat as he ate his fill. Your eyes shot open as you realized your dirty thoughts had spilled into the open air.

"Oh my God!" you squealed, instantly pushing yourself away form his face, leaving a snail trail down his chest to where you currently sat at his pelvis. "I'm so embarrassed, I'm so sorry!"

Usopp's fingers delicately laced with yours as he pulled at your hand. "Get back up here," he cooed, guiding you back to your previous position. "Please cum all over my pretty face."

Vinsmoke Sanji:

💕 You pouted in the corner of the dining room as Sanji served dinner, setting your plate down in from of you, and delicately tying your napkin around your neck as he always did. "What's wrong, Mon amour?" he asked, softly petting your hair, only to have you turn your nose up at him. The rest of the crew looked on in curiosity as the chef continued to serve, all the while struggling to get you to give him time of day.

After the meal was finished and everyone else had left the table, you stayed to help him clean up as usual. "Mon trésor, talk to me." he insisted. Once again you ignored him, prompting him to take the dishes from your hands and set them aside, before cupping your cheek to ensure that your focus was only on him. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing," you scoffed. "Just wish I had a boyfriend that was only my boyfriend is all."

Sanji stared at you blankly, puzzled by your sudden aggression towards him. "I'm all yours, amour, why would you think otherwise?"

"You seem to be pretty friendly with every other girl you come across," you muttered bitterly.

"Are you jealous?" he smirked, only to find that, to you, this was no amusing matter.

"I shouldn't have to be!" you snapped, sniffling a bit. "I shouldn't have to feel like I have to compete for your attention..." He stood in front of you, lips ajar from surprise at your level of emotion on the matter. After a moment, he softened, pulling you into his chest.

"This world is full of beautiful people, male and female," he soothed as you resisted the urge to cry in front of him. "We can never simply turn off our attraction to people, but at the end of the day, you should know that you take up all the space in my heart."

"Some apology," you scoffed, trying to push his affections away.

"It's not an apology," he corrected. "Though, maybe it should be. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, amour." he cooed, petting your hair and letting you be frustrated with him. Sanji was never one to try and sort out a problem immediately. He knew emotions took time to ease through, and how unhealthy rushing that could be. "Would you like some time to yourself?" he offered, pulling away from you to look into your eyes. You shook your head lightly, before nuzzling back into his chest. "Would you give me a chance to make it up to you?" You nodded shallowly, your hair getting mussed and collecting static from his shirt.

He smiled sweetly, parting from you, and holding you at arms' length. "Tell you what," he began, glancing over to the sink full of dishes. "Give me a few minutes to clean this up, you go get in the tub and wait for me."

💔 You stood in the pouring rain, outside looking in on a private moment. Sanji, the man who'd sworn his eternal love for you was there, embracing his wife to be the day before their wedding. His face was battered and bruised as he whispered to her. "Let's get married tomorrow."

Against all your better judgement, your shattered heart forced agonized screams from your throat as you sobbed, slamming your fists on the glass. Your shoulders shook as the rain mixed with your tears as they slid down your face. Just beyond, you watched as Pudding, the woman who'd taken your place nearly jump from her skin, fearfully snuggling deeper into his embrace as she eyed you as if you'd hurt her.

Sanji however never bothered to look. He heard you, he was just choosing to ignore your cries, no matter how deeply they bothered him. He could feel his decisions effect you in the form of guilty sweat dripping down his spine. Eventually, he turned his back to you, pulling his bride away as they exited the room. He couldn't stand the pitiful sight of you any longer, lest he begin to weep himself.

🍋 Sanji stared down at you, love and passion exuding from his pores as he made love to you. He held your legs securely over his shoulders as he eased in and out of you, counting how many times your breath would hitch before you could exhale. "Me prends si bien, chérie." he purred, leaning into your ear, nearly folding you in half.

"S-Sanji..." you whimpered, face numb from the overwhelming pleasure you were under. You couldn't hold back the way your volume was increasing, no matter how humiliating. He was worth being embarrassed for.

"Oui, mon amour?"

"F-Feels so good!" you affirmed, the need to feel useful swallowing you whole. You wanted to be an active participant, not simply a toy, but the way he loved on you left you paralyzed. "Wanna make you feel good too..."

"Tu me fais me sentir divine, chérie." he soothed, letting go of a weighted breath. "Continue juste à chanter comme ça pour moi, d'accord?"

Translations:

Mon amour/amour = My love/love

Trésor = Treasure

"Me prends si bien, chérie." = "Taking me so well, darling."

"Oui, mon amour?" = "Yes, my love?"

"Tu me fais me sentir divine, chérie." = "You make me feel divine, darling."

"Continue juste à chanter comme ça pour moi, d'accord?" = "Just keep singing like that for me, okay?"