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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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Opening Night and Open Hearts

prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 9.8k+

note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace

warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!

⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers

not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

God's Plan part two: Two to Tango

Neon Sticky Notes

"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"

"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.

"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"

"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"

"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."

You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"

"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."

"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"

"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"

"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."

You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."

This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."

"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."

"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."

"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."

Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"

"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."

He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."

"But isn't that what Pete's for?"

"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."

Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."

"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."

Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.

"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"

"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.

"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.

"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."

"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.

"Hey, Richie."

"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"

"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"

"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."

"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,

"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."

"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"

"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."

"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.

Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!

Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.

"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."

"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"

"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."

"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.

You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."

Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"

"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."

Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."

"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"

"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."

"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.

"On it," he winked, parting from your side.

Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"

"Yo."

"Peach is on 17 with Pete."

"Okay."

"Go say hi."

"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.

"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.

"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.

"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."

"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."

"What? I'm saying - "

"I'll get there when I can get there!"

"I'm saying!"

"What?" Carmy barked.

"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"

"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.

You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.

"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.

"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"

He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.

"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."

"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.

"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."

"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.

"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.

"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."

"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."

"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."

"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.

He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."

"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"

"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.

"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"

"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"

"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."

"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"

"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."

Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."

"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"

"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."

You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."

Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"

"Hmm? What're you - ?"

"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.

When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."

"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.

"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.

"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"

"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."

"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.

"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.

"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.

"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.

"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."

"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.

You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"

"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."

"Pete? What didn't you mean?"

"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."

"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."

"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"

"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."

"For what?"

"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.

You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."

"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."

"Take all the time you need," you agreed.

"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"

You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."

Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.

"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.

Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."

"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.

"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"

"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."

"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.

"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."

"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."

"What?"

"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."

"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"

"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "

"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.

"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.

"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.

"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."

"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."

But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.

When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.

"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."

You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.

Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.

Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."

You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."

"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"

You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"

You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."

"Peaches, hey, what's - "

But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."

"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"

"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"

"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.

"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."

"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"

"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.

"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.

"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "

You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.

"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."

You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.

The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.

"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.

"No time!"

"Wait! She went with her friend!"

Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"

"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"

"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."

"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."

"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "

"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.

"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.

"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.

"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"

"What?" Syd blinked in shock.

"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."

"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.

"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."

"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.

"How do you know?" Neil asked.

"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."

"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.

"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"

"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.

"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.

"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"

"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."

Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.

The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.

Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.

Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.

He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.

The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.

The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.

He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."

"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"

"Yeah? The only thing?"

"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "

"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "

"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."

"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You sure?"

"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.

"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."

"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.

"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.

Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.

"Baby - "

"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."

He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.

"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."

"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."

"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."

"Peach - "

"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."

Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."

"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.

"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."

"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."

"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"

"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."

"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"

You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"

"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.

"Do you really think you're a psycho?"

He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."

You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"

"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."

"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."

"I don't deserve anymore time - "

"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."

He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."

"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."

"Anything, Peach."

"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."

He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."

"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."

With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.

The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.

"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."

"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."

Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"

"Of course, I do."

So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.

And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.

You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"

You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."

"And what did you do?"

You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."

"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."

"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"

"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."

You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"

He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."

"What changed?"

"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."

Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.

"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"

"Carmen."

He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.

With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"

"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."

"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"

He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."

"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."

"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"

You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."

You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.

"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.

There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.

"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"

You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.

"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"

"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.

"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."

"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."

"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."

"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.

"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.

"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"

"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.

"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"

"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"

"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.

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savingcrxws · 2 years ago

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EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

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synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes.

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant.

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table.

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.”

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch.

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet.

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?”

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call.

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption.

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you.

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut.

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation.

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man.

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere.

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid.

Absolutely not, apparently.

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath.

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge.

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

taglist: @grippleback-galaxy @chatitajens @rooster-bradshaws @hrrysweetcherry @whoreforbucky @notsochillnerd @jackierose902109 @how2besalty @rosewine-5 @honeybug-victoria @beansap @sincerelyrab @xxconfettiitsaparade @softsy @imafatassmess @bibliophilewednesday @chanluuvr

if you would like to be added to/removed from the taglist, just tell me below! thank you so much for reading!

*if ur @ is striked thru, tumblrs being a pain and not letting tag, imma keep trying tho!!

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #the bear season 2 #jeremy allen white x reader #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfic

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formulawolff · 5 months ago

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night changes - d.r.

pairing: fem!reader x daniel ricciardo

word count: 1k

warnings: some cursing here and there, alcohol consumption, danny bein' a little shit, mostly cutesyyyyy shit hehehe, yadayadayada

a.n. -> yes, this fic is based off the song night changes by one direction. (and a request that was sent in!)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

clink, clink, clink!

lightly, you tap your spoon against the champagne flute, clearing your throat. as hundreds of eyes fall on you, there's a beat of silence. anxiety courses through your veins, yet you know you have to persevere.

after all, this wasn't about you.

it was about danny.

"good evening, everyone," sucking in a breath, you shift uneasily, the nerves overtaking the buzz for just a moment, "first of all, i would like to thank everyone for joining us in celebrating our love. i cannot express how grateful i am to be surrounded by all of our dearest friends and family members."

daniel is beside you, perched in his chair at the head table. the golden hue of the lights create a warm ambiance, softening his features. yet, when you glance over at him, you can't help but notice the stars that glisten in his gaze.

he nods, encouraging you to continue. taking your hand, fingers intertwine with yours. he gives you a gentle squeeze, dimples forming as he bears a quaint grin.

"before we begin the real party, i wanted to present daniel with a gift. i was going to give it to him during our rehearsal dinner, but i decided to wait. i figured it would be best if you all were here to watch it as well."

your hand trembles, yet you continue, the words thready as you fight the lump forming in your throat. tears begin to well up, blurring your vision as you look back down at love of your life.

"d-daniel, i know this gift is extremely corny, but i think it best represents our love story. you are the man of my dreams, and i cannot wait to love you and show you off for the rest of our lives. i hope that by the time this is finished, everyone will know how much i fucking adore and cherish you. max, could you please roll the gift in?"

max verstappen, the best man, gives you a salute, promptly disappearing behind an array of flower garlands. to your far left, a white sheet rolls down from a wooden setup, a specially crafted rig from your father for the big day. max wheels in a cart, your laptop resting on the top shelf.

he plugs a cable into the designated port, giving you a thumbs up. as you sit back down, daniel places a hand on your thigh, leaning over.

"what is this?"

"just be patient," a giggle bubbles up in your throat, "you'll see in just a few seconds."

the lights of the outdoor venue dim as an image projects onto the sheet, the crowd maintaining their silence. there are a few whispers, but you ignore them, honing in on the display before you.

"hey guys," a clip of you begins to roll, "you will not fucking believe what just happened! daniel just won in monaco!"

"holy shit," daniel's voice is barely a whisper, almost breathless, "baby, where did you-"

"shhh," you place a finger on his lips, "just watch!"

a new clip flashes on the makeshift screen, the moments following his 2018 monaco win. he's at the edge of the pool, surrounded by the red bull crew. you're there as well, lingering in the background. yet, daniel is persistent to have you front and center, grasping your arm gently. he manages to pull you into the pool with him, the two of you erupting into laughter as you come to the surface.

there's a second where you see him cup your cheek, his thumb brushing a soaked strand away before he pulls you in for a kiss. members of the crew dive in, filled to the brim with euphoria.

there are a few photos that flash across the screen. one from daniel's debut as a formula one driver, where the two of you swore you were "just friends." then there was one of the two of you as children, bearing wide, toothy grins as you played outside. another is your prom, where daniel flew in from australia to attend the dance with you.

flash forward to his time with red bull as their third driver. the two of you are filming a tik tok, more than likely for a sponsorship on your end. the video shows daniel playfully slapping your ass before you hiss at him, reminding him that the camera was on. he just shrugs before making eye contact with the lens, smacking your buttcheek once again.

another video rolls, a tender moment of the two of you dancing at a wedding a few years back. he's holding you close, your head resting against his chest, your lashes fluttering as you sway along to the music. his head lowers, the australian whispering a strand of words that weren't quite picked up by the audio.

the audience coos as there is a plethora of baby photos that appear, as the two of you practically grew up together. since your father was stationed in australia till you were thirteen, you shared many fond memories with daniel.

truly, you had no idea how intertwined your paths were until it all unfolded on screen before you.

he was your soul mate. the only man you had ever loved. and the only man you were going to continue to love.

until the end of time.

"that was the moment i knew i was going to marry you," his voice shakes, and you can't help but notice the glimmer of a tear as it rolls down, "fuck, how did you even find these?"

heat floods your cheeks, "i've been saving them here and there."

he takes your hand, bringing it to his lips, "that was a beautiful gift, my love. i couldn't imagine anything more perfect than that."

"it wasn't corny?"

"far from it," shaking his head, a hand reaches up, cupping the back of your skull. he brings you in, eyes still misty from tears.

"that is going to be something we show to our future children. and their grandchildren. and you know what they'll all say?"

"what?" your lower lip trembles, your own tears pooling up.

"they're all going to say, 'they were so in love. i hope that we find someone who we can love like that.'"

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #oracle red bull racing #daniel ricciardo x you #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic

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braisedhoney · 1 year ago

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WAAAAAAAA LOOK AT THEM?? LOOK AT U S ??????

*banging hands against the glass* I'M GONNA SMACK 'IM. I'M COMIN' AFTER HIM FOR BEING SO RUDE I SWEAR—

🍦🍨🍧 Narry siblings, but ice cream themed!🍦🍨🍧

Check out 🍦tsp ice cream chain 🍦

A bunch of new flavours to try @insomniphic @braisedhoney @visillantopng @inqrabbit @real-ms-awkward @heckinrissa @paradoxspir1t @mikothemushroom @muffy-mayhem @demonicrhythms @inkitts @emile-tb @sketchy--d00dles @mar00nharp00ns @troolyart @thenamesmobu @thatstarboi @uselessnate @rick-ety @stargazerspringles @blackkittensketches @blackkatdraws @cha1nsawblood sad-ist

That’s obviously not everyone, just a bunch of this time, since ice cream chain is still active and going (it’s too early for mega one 🤫)

#ney's reblogs #captain's gift log (other's art)#narratorverse #paraverse #bear. bear you seriously cannot keep pumping out such adorable comics this fast #this defies logic. it defies physics. it defies HEALTH ITSELF #... which is ironic considering the chain #and also makes me a hypocrite. probably #but listen okay jokes aside #this is so COOL #and you always write narry so well i can't stand it like #he is such a jerk all of the time but in an exhausted 'i didn't even want to be here' way #which is hysterical #the one moment of joy he has is in terrorizing whoever he's feeding the ice cream #which is amazing #and oh god the way the door of the ice cream van just SLAMS shut bc your poor narry crashed into it #narry that's RUDE AND CRUEL #and don't even get me started on our dedicated ice cream sona designs holy SHIT #don't make me draw this you might make me draw this gah #also all the flavors of our sona's ice cream choices go together really nicely lmao #i really really love the color palette choices you made here too #just the soft pastels but with so many inclusions #and all the gradients #it's like each narry has control over a specific background color #and obviously the GROUP SHOT?? all of the narrator variations you crammed into one gorgeous panel????#poor bearline is going to get brain freeze #but at least my narry is the only one with a purposefully misleading flavor lmao #amazing as always and i'll stare at it forever

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itsmemuffy · 28 days ago

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I can make you feel better...

And you know you will (chapter 2)

Contents: Original Trilogy! Logan x fem reader, obsessive and touched starved Logan, major honeymoon phase, male masturbation, panty stealing, oral (m! receiving), breast worship, fingering, cum eating/swapping, angst, light blood + violence, mentions of Charles, Scott, Jean, Ororo and Peter (Collosus)

Chapter One Summary: You keep everything running as smooth as possible in the background while Professor Xavier keeps a very full plate of locating mutants, running the school, and leading the X-Men. A steady stream of mutants come and go through the mansion, but a certain one in particular makes it his mission to nestle his way into your life.

Chapter Two Summary: Logan navigates his needs as your relationship blossoms. He weighs his insecurities against his feelings for the woman he loves. Once everything is said and done, he finally gives in. Smut under last divider.

Author's note: Credit where credit is due, this post by @avocado-writing inspired the first part of this chapter. Thank you to all the wonderful writers in this fandom ;*

Logan played the memory of your lips against his over so many times in his head as he was falling asleep that by the time he woke up, he thought it must of been a dream. The morning sun that crept through the curtains of his room assisted him in coming to his senses. He squinted as he finally opened his eyes, light beaming into his retinas. That wasn't a dream. It was all for real this time...

He stumbled down the dim hallway in his usual morning stupor. Routine the same as always, except for one factor. You were gone. Your scent lingered faintly in the hall from when you left to catch your flight before the sun even had a chance to rise above the landscape.

Logan's brain didn't have time to catch up with his body before his feet stopped himself in his own tracks in front of your bedroom door. Snapshots of you standing before him, wrapping yourself around his body flooded his memory. The way you held onto him in that moment was as sweet as candy, but your touch heated him like pure capsaicin.

As the scene replayed in his mind, that same throbbing heat overcame his body, starting at his groin until it reached the tip of his ears. Logan glanced to his left. And then his right. Good, he thought. No one was around to bear witness to what he was about to do. He tested his luck when he wrapped his hand around the doorknob. Holy shit, it's unlocked.

Your door was swiftly opened and then shut behind him with a quick squeak that sounded out into the hall. It was a noise no one would bat an eye at upon hearing, but Logan was treating this as serious as a diamond heist. Sometimes he forgets that not every mutant's senses are as sharp as his.

He decided against turning the light on as not to raise suspicion. Instead, he let the dull lines of blue light from the closed window shades guide his endeavor. The space was tidy and organized, just as Logan expected.

He had only been in your room once before now. You had left notes on your bedroom desk on students whose mutations required them specific nutritional needs. Charles had requested them in a meeting that Logan also attended. Of course, he was the first to volunteer to grab them for you.

He had ample opportunity then to do what he was doing in the current moment- hunting for pieces of you in your own private space. As much as he was tempted to do so, he couldn't bring himself to keep his sweet girl waiting. He melted at your praise when he promptly delivered your papers.

He glanced around your room. Logan didn't know exactly what he was looking for. Something- anything that could give him his fix. It was your own fault, after all. You just had to spur him on last night.

First and foremost, he was an animal that never gave much practice to supressing his more perverse compulsions. To Logan, it was just simple biology. That was the excuse he gave himself when he made a beeline straight to your dresser. He knew what he was looking for now.

He quietly opened each and every drawer, carefully sifting through your clothes making sure they were put back exactly where he found them. Some articles evoked pleasant memories of the times you have worn them- others he had yet to see on you. Logan dreamed of the day you would get all dressed up just for him, wearing things no other man has ever seen you in.

When he got to the second to last drawer, Logan hit the jackpot. Inside, your bras and panties were lined up in tidy little rows. He held up multiple pairs, envisioning the way the fabric would wrap snugly around your curves. A pink, silky thong adorned with little ribbons is what he settled on as his favorite. He put them all back except for that specific pair.

A stack of polaroid photos that lay on your dresser piqued Logan's interest next. He snatched them up and made himself comfortable on the divit on the far side of your bed. It wasn't lost on him how you appeared to sleep on a singular side in favor of the middle of the mattress. Maybe you were saving room for someone to lay down beside you at night. Maybe you needed him as much as he needed you.

He shamelessly took a moment to rub his face into the pillow. The scent of you mimicking the sensation he felt when he nuzzled himself into your hair the night previous. Your shampoo, your lotion, your perfume, your sweat. It all came together to create a sensation he could never get from anyone else.

It was maddening- all too much and never enough at the same time. His cup could never be full of you, yet it overflowed in crashing waves. God forbid you found out about his little expedition into your bedroom, but he was a desperate man. Logan lay on his back and focused his attention to the pictures he held.

The photo on top of the stack captured the common area of the mansion, adorned in white and gold with "New Year's Eve" hanging from the ceiling in glittering letters that reflected the flash of the camera. It was from the year before he had arrived at the mansion. He shuffled that one to the back of the pile.

The second one was of you, Jean, and Ororo posing with champagne glasses in hand. All of you were in your best holiday dresses. Logan's eyes immediately caught on your exposed thighs, semi-transparent tights spread taught over the ample flesh. Now we're getting somewhere...

He flipped through a few more; photos of the catering, Jean and Scott dancing, and the clock striking midnight. None of them interested Logan.

The next photo in the stack displayed a shining bald head taken from above. It was Charles with a bright lipstick print on top his scalp. Logan immediately recognized your signature shade. This one was labeled underneath as "New Year's Kiss."

He couldn't supress the laughter coming up from deep within his chest as he pictured you tipsy off the champagne, planting a big 'ol smooch onto the unsuspecting professor. Logan had half a mind to be jealous, but he was convinced he'd be the one you would welcome into the next year- this time on the lips.

Logan's breath caught in his throat when he saw what the next picture was of. You were standing in front of your bathroom mirror, leaning forward slightly over the sink with your chest pushed out. The straps of your dress had slipped down your shoulders, exposing your breasts.

Immediately, he felt his pants tighten. Logan already craved your body like a starved beast and seeing your perfect tits left him in awe. They were better than he could of ever imagined, and he imagined them a lot. The days you chose to wear your tight little sweaters were like fucking Chistmas to him.

As he notices your face was flush from the alcohol, he fantasizes about how that night must of went. His sweet, responible girl maybe had one too many to drink. You probably saw yourself all dolled up in the mirror when you stumbled into the bathroom, wishing you had someone like Logan there to worship your pretty tits. What else were you to do but reach for your camera, not to waste this precious moment?

His cock was expanding at such a rate he was all but bursting out of the denim. It was too late to turn back now. Logan hurriedly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans to shimmy them down to his knees. He took a second to palm his hard buldge through his boxers. All of the time he spent memorizing your tender touch once again came to good use.

Enough playing around, he thought to himself, time to get to business.

Logan fished his fully erect cock out of his boxers in one swift motion. It was already throbbing. He took a single finger to spread clear beads of precum around the head until the swollen, sensitive flesh was sticky and shining in his own arousal. In his mind's eye, Logan was imagining you lapping at the tip of his dick like the needy little thing he knew he would be able to turn you into.

He placed the stack of photos down next to him, keeping his favorite on top, and grabbed your panties. With one hand steadily stroking up and down his entire length, the other held up the silky pair to his face. Logan would of preferred them worn and marked with your scent- but a man in his position has to take what he can get.

His tongue ran stripes up and down the crotch of your panties, now envisioning you sitting on his face with your juices soaking through the material. In reality, they were just coated in his saliva. He wanted to hold you tight and make you squeeze his head between your thighs like a vice. If he could just taste you, Logan may finally be able to die and reach heaven. He chokes out a desperate groan into the fabric, breathing heavy and shallow.

Logan was getting close, rhythmic schlick-ing noises echoing off the four walls. There was no way his fist would be able to squeeze around him like you would, but he still tried anyway. He wrapped your thong around the base of his cock, the delicate fabric brushing against his full balls with every stroke.

The final scene he conjured up that drove him over the edge was you bouncing on top of him. Logan pictured you all sweaty and panting as you chase your high. Your legs would shake against him with exhaustion. The way his cock would be nudged so far deep inside would be too intense for you to hold any of your pathetic little noises back. He'd leave bruises in the shape of his palm on your ass as you rode him. Just to make sure you were unmistakably his. Nobody else's.

He bit his knuckle to stifle the guttural sounds of him reaching his peak. All of Logan's red hot blood had rushed to his cock, length pulsating in syncopation with his heartbeat. His breathing stopped completely as he spurted thick, white ropes into his own hand. What a waste he wasn't dispositing his cum into your warm mouth. He knows his good girl wouldn't waste a drop.

Logan has touched himself to the thought of you before. Many times, in fact. But this time, deep in your very own bed, he reached heights he hasn't felt in god knows how long. His chest and thighs were slicked with sweat and his breathing remained heavy long after his initial release. When he finally gets to make you his, he questions if he'd be able to stop himself from completely ravaging your body. Would his sweet girl be able to handle all that he's ready to give you?

He cleaned up himself with your goddamn adorable little thong, fabric barely able to hold all of his spend. After his slow return back to reality, Logan realizes his teammates might start wondering where he is. Not that it's any of their damn business. I go where I please.

It could be bad news if they start searching for him, however. Him and Scott were due to depart on some sort of mission. The briefing that had been schedueled beforehand was coming up in less than twenty minutes. Alright, alright. Time to get a move on.

Logan wrapped your panties in a tissue from your nightstand and tucked them away in his pocket- making a mental note to hide them somewhere safe in his own room before he departed. He considered taking that photo with him, too. Ultimately, he ruled it too risky. But not before taking one last look, committing every detail to memory.

Charles has suspected there to be a shadow organization tasked with framing mutants for crimes they didn't commit to accelerate anti-mutant sentiment. He had split up the X-Men to visit scenes of the alleged crimes to hopefully figure out who could be behind this. Every team came back empty handed.

Time was moving painfully slow for Logan while you were away. The mission he had gone on with Scott ended up being a total waste of time. He had to endure an entire day working alongside his favorite teammate, with no one to mitigate between them, and it was all for nothing.

To top everything off, one of the students started a fire trying to toast a pop-tart in their room. Unable to control his ability, he instead let out a huge explosion that incinerated a good portion of the east wing. Charles almost had an aneurysm when he got an estimate on the renovation costs.

It took hours to clean out the debris, painstaking and tedious work for even the mighty Wolverine. Him, Scott and Peter were working at it even as the biting cold came with the nightfall. Needless to say, Logan was having a miserable weekend.

He needed a victory- some worthless piece of shit to sink his claws into. Logan was growing extremely restless. Good thing the danger room remained untouched in the accident. Might was well blow off some steam...

Logan trained well into the night, the morning you would arrive back fast approaching with the coming dawn. He lost himself tearing through fabricated enemies. So high on his own adrenaline, all the pain he should of felt went ignored. His knuckles were tingling and numb by the time he collapsed to the ground, heaving.

When he finally caught his breath and every wound stitched itself back together, he ended the session. He actually did feel better now- emotionally, anyway.

Logan stomped through the halls, mind completely vacant. His entire body gleamed with sweat, except for dull patches of dried blood scattered across his torso. The underside of his eyes were heavy with bags. If someone were to ask him at what point in there he had lost his shirt, he wouldn't of been able tell them.

"Jesus Christ," a voice he had dearly been missing called out from behind him. "You went ahead and dragged yourself through hell again, didn't you?"

All he could do was grunt as he turned on his heels to see you, eagerly prancing toward him with suitcases in stride. He took a second to take you all in. You were dressed in your comfiest of clothes, hair and makeup slightly dishelveled from your plane ride. Logan thought you looked oh so warm and inviting. He wanted to scoop you up and carry you around like his own personal teddy bear.

As jarring as he appeared before you, it wasn't a sight you've never seen before. You had to learn early on to let him do what he needed to do- and there was no use in wasting your breath to scold him for pushing himself past limits. In this moment, you were just happy to see his face.

"C'mere, big guy," you stepped forward and enveloped him into your arms, not caring if Logan was getting your sweatshirt dirty.

As much as you had fun spending your days off with some of your old friends, you couldn't help from thinking about him the entire time. You weren't quite sure where the two of you stood now in terms of your relationship. All you knew is that you both benefited from having eachother close.

Logan's nose flared up at the scent of dozens of strangers on you. The unfamiliar sensation made his lips curl up in a snarl. He wrapped his arm around your waist tight, lifting you a foot off the ground.

"Missed ya, doll," he nuzzled his beard up and down your neck and chest, marking your body with a scent more suitable for you. You giggled uncontrollably as the hairs tickled your flesh. "Hope you had a better past few days than I just did."

"Yeah, I heard..." You held on to the back of Logan's head as he put you back down, fingernails gently grazing his sweaty scalp, "I'm gone for one weekend and this place falls apart, huh?"

"Damn right, it did," he chuckled darkly, breath hot against your earlobe.

"I'm just glad no one was hurt," you watched him as he broke the embrace to scoop up your luggage, "that's more than we can hope for some of these days."

The two of you made your way down to the rooms. At your doorway, you thanked Logan for carrying your bags with a kiss on the cheek. He adored how the feel of your lips was already becoming routine.

"So, do you want to uh..," Oh god, you had no idea how to do this. You were so comfortable with eachother as friends but now that he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole, it was like learning how to speak again. Logan would steal glances like this since the day he first laid eyes on you, but now he didn't have much of a reason to hide it anymore. It definetly did not help that the rise and fall of his bare chest with each breath was so fucking mesmerizing. "You want to maybe, um, see what I brought back from my trip?"

The way Logan towered over you, boxing you in against the doorframe and burning holes into your body with his gaze, was borderline criminal. "Let me go ahead and jump in the shower then you can show me, sweetheart. I want to hear all about your little vacation," his voiced remained low, bordering on a whisper. "I'll meet you back here when I'm done, okay?"

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before he split off into his own bedroom. Logan knew if he gave you anything more, he wouldn't be able to help from shoving his entire tongue in your mouth. All in good time, he reminded himself. There was no need to rush when things were going so well between you. You plopped down on your bed and tried not to think about the man soaping up his body just a few doors down.

Steaming hot blasts of water pounded away at Logan's aching muscles, reminding him how just exhausted he truly was. Despite the lethargy that was dragging him down, he was determined to push through it just to spend more time with you. It felt to him like he hadn't seen you in ages.

Logan patted himself dry as he stared into the mirror. Now that you were back he pondered all the ways this relationship could go. He ached to be close to you in every way possible. As much and he felt you belonged alongside him, there was still an apprehension nagging him in the back of his mind.

After all, you haven't even see the full aspects of his mutation. He's never protracted his claws around you- never had to, thankfully. And you've only witnessed him recover from very minor injuries. Would your soft, sweet self still feel the same way about him if you saw him bloody and gored, metal bones protruding?

You've never shown signs of being scared or wary of him besides basic shyness. Maybe you would of if you'd seen early on what he can really do. Logan wanted to squeeze you tight and never let go, but could he even trust himself to sleep through the night with you beside him? The rips and tears in his sheets told him, no, you can't.

He threw on a fresh pair of sweats and a t-shirt. With the flick of a lighter, he lit up a cigar to calm his nerves. After running his fingers through his hair to get it juuust right, he headed back to your room like he promised.

Your suitcases were open on the bed as you sat patiently at end with your hands in your lap. Was inviting him back into your bedroom a bad decision? Something in you yearned for Logan to take the lead and bring you to all those places that other men didn't even know existed within you. On the other hand, you weren't sure if you'd be ready to take him on in that way. At least not yet, anyway.

Your door opened and you immediately perked up. "You mind if I..." Logan waved the burning cigar in his hand before he entered the room. This may have been the first time in his life he had asked someone for permission to smoke. He cringed at himself for already being so whipped.

"As long as you don't ash anywhere but the tray." You had an old glass piece on your nightstand you repurposed into a dish for your jewelry. Rings rattled as you dumped them out and slid them out of the way. Logan turned his face to the side, hoping you wouldn't catch the small grin lifting his cheeks. It was the little actions that showed him how ready you were to make room for him in your life. Even as friends, you would always make the extra effort to go out of your way for him. God, what he wouldn't do for you in return.

He passed your dresser on his way to you and noticed the stack of photos as he felt a twinge in the pit of his stomach. Nestled there was something between guilt and the sick satisfaction that you were none the wiser about the parts of you he's now seen. The image of you topless in the bathroom mirror crept into his mind again and if Logan wasn't so damn exhausted, he would of gotten rock solid just thinking about it. Your panties were still hidden in the confines of his own room. He had already jerked off into the pair several times.

The bed dipped as his weight brought the mattress down, making your bags slide a bit towards him. He laid down on his side, propping himself up slightly on his elbow. "I'm all ears, baby. Tell me what my girl's been up to." Logan didn't miss how your posture shifted when he called you his.

He listened attentively to your soothing voice as you told him about the stores you visited and the all things you could only find in your hometown and he vented to you about his shitty weekend. You had a way of melting away the worries and the doubts from his mind without even trying.

Sleep crept it's way up his broad form until Logan fell unconscious. His cigar slowly billowed out in the tray. If it was a deliberate decision, he would of chosen to stay awake until he got back to his own room. You babbled on for a bit longer as you unpacked. After a minute or two without an affirmative yeah? or is that so? did you notice he was totally conked out.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him peacefully asleep, a low rumble sounding from his chest. He was obviously snoring, but the noise was more akin to that of a big purring kitten. It turned your heart to warm jelly seeing him this content.

You crawled on your hands and knees up the bed, careful not to wake him. At this point, you knew more than anyone else how falling and staying asleep was an active battle for Logan. You couldn't help from selfishly pressing a feathery-soft kiss to his forehead, even if there was a small chance the gesture would stir him to consciousness.

Your bodies faced eachother when you also succumbed to your own exhaustion- your travels hit your body harder than you had realized. Somewhere in your slumber, you had snaked your legs around his. Likewise, Logan instinctively reached out to hold your body against him with a heavy bicep.

A few hours later with noon fast approaching, a steady barrage of knocks at the door alerted Logan out his sleep. He glanced over to you, not able to recall when he had drifted off. Your limbs were still locked with eachother's as your slowed heartbeat and soft breath fanning against his arm almost lulled him back into his dream of you.

A voice from beyond the room shook him out of it. "Wakey wakey, I know you're in there." It was Scott. "I let you sleep in long enough. The professor needs you in his office asap."

Still in a daze, Logan completely forgot whose room he had just woken up in. He had not even considered that Scott could be talking to you. "Just fuck off and give me five more minutes, Summers," Logan grumbled.

Scott stood behind the door stunned, a scandalous smirk creeping up his face. Finally, some development between you and Logan- and was the visored mutant ever smug to be the one to make this discovery. He couldn't wait to tell everybody how he caught the big, bad Wolverine sneaking a nap in with the woman he has been pathetically crushing on for ages.

"Logan!?" Scott exclaimed incredulously, not even trying to supress the laughing fit he was breaking into. "Do me a favor, will you? Make sure the lady makes it to Charles in once piece. No time for funny business, you hear me?"

Logan would make him pay later on for mocking him, but to Scott it was sooo worth it. As he turned his attention back to you in bed, he noticed a dried streak of drool trailing from the corner of your mouth. You couldn't help it- his presence next to you made you feel safe and that lent itself to a very deep slumber. He wet his thumb between his lips before wiping it away from your face.

"Sweetheart, get up," Logan gently but firmly coaxed you out of your slumber with a hand tapping your shoulder.

"Mnnn... whaaat?" You mumbled as you swatted his hand away. "C'mon, let's go back to sleep..." You reached to pull him in, but he was all too sturdy in his stance. He was this close to saying fuck it and giving in to you. Hopefully you would forgive him for denying your whims this time.

"No, you come on. The big boss says he needs you in his office," his response illicited a long, disapproving groan from you. "Hey, hey, none of that," Logan tsked. "Not my fault my girl is so important."

My girl. Those words sure had a way of making you feel energized. You reluctantly sprung up from the bed and headed straight to the bathroom to clean yourself up a bit. He got up and followed close behind you, watching you wash your face and thinking about how that was the best sleep he had gotten in ages- even if it was only a short nap. Maybe sleeping next to you every night wasn't as crazy a dream as he thought.

You sat opposite of Professor Xavier at his desk, old leather of the seat sticking to your legs. The office was bright with natural light, fresh air circulating in through an open window. Charles was giving you a run down on everything he needed done this week. Letters to send out, field trips to scheduele, and an obscene amount of phone calls to make.

"We need to get those repairs done before the weather does irreperable damage to the insulation. Patching the roof is our top priority, call this number first." He handed you a slip full of contact information.

"Now that you're all caught up on current affairs, is there any matters you'd like to bring to my attention, my dear?" The professor looked you dead in the eyes in a way that you hated. You could never let your guard down around a telepath.

"You know me, Charles. Same old, same old. Never anything too exiting," a nervous exhale punctuated your words.

"What about Logan?"

Goddammit, Charles. You also couldn't stand how absolutely nosy the man could be sometimes. He was like a father awkwardly trying to gossip with his children, if only out of a desire to feel more included in their lives. It was irritating as it was endearing.

"What about Logan?" The way his name rolled off your tongue was enough to quicken your pulse. When did his name become the most beautiful sounding word? Everything was for Logan. Logan. Logan. Logan. "He's my best friend. We've just gotten close over the time he's been here, you know?"

"Fine. Whatever you say, my dear." With a dismissive wave of his hand, Charles gave up. You both had far too much to do for him to waste time wearing you down. He already saw everything he needed to see- sitting front row in the theater of your mind. The lecture he just gave to the students on ethics in telepathy be damned.

"Sorry, Charlie. You can't be the only man in my life forever."

"Yes, I know, I know." You could see the corner of his mouth curl upwards. It was nice to see a smile on the professor's face despite the stress he's been under recently.

He left you alone in his office to make your calls. The majority of the next few hours mostly consisted of hold music and the impatient tapping of your pen against the desk. You took on meaningless tasks like tidying up Charles' already spotless office as you silently prayed for a savior to your boredom.

Your prayers must of somehow been heard. As soon as your brain started to leak out of your ears from the sheer lack of stimulation, a larger than life presence made his way through the door.

"Thought you could get away with skipping breakfast, huh?" Logan sauntered his way into the open room, carrying something in his hand. "And skipping lunch, for that matter," he stated as he set down a plate full of food in front of you.

On the plate sat what was perhaps the saddest looking sandwich you had ever seen in your life- toppings slapped haphazardly between two slices of bread with condiments dripping down the sides. Still, it was cut vertically in half with chips filling the free space of the dish. You could tell he earnestly attempted to make it into something special.

"Tried to do it up as nice as you always make 'em for me..." Logan trailed off as he gazed down at the pathetic display. "Listen, at least it tastes good. I made sure a'that," he reached down to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Only now did you notice the bite taken out of the corner.

You brought your hand up to shyly cover the grin creeping up your face. "Looks delicious, Logan. Thank you," you giggled.

"What's baldy got you doing now? Playin' secretary?" Logan's focus turned to your legs that were swaying to the tempo of elevator jazz playing from the phone's fuzzy speaker. He watched intently as each subtle movement shifted the hem of your skirt.

"Basically. Not the most exiting but it needs to get done all the same." You took a mouthful of the sandwich and he was right- it was pretty damn good. If not a bit messy.

Small smudges of mustard collected at the corner of your lips, "No napkins?" Logan shook his head in response. You collected the condiment with your thumb, bringing it up to your mouth to clean off your finger. "Did I get it all?"

"Let me look at ya," he lifted your chin and turned your face, using this as an excuse to admire each side. From the slope of your nose to the angle of your eyes- every feature was a work of art to him. "Missed a spot." Logan's towering form bent down to be eye level with you sitting. Before you could realize what was happening, you felt his warm tongue lap at the smear on your cheek.

You didn't even know how to react. Logan was a roaring fire- in every aspect. Not only in terms of body temperature, but in his rage and how he burned hot for you. Crackling flames inside him drove his every decision. Your affection only provided more kindling. To put it simply, he was not a subtle lover.

He snuck in a few extra licks than were necessary and patted the excess drool away with his sleeve. "You're disgusting," you scolded him light-heartedly.

"Tell me you don't love it." Logan shifted to his knees to stay face to face with you. He captured your lips in a kiss, toying with locks of your hair while he put his devotion on display.

You could tell he was using every ounce of restraint he had. It was sickly sweet the way your mouths met again and again- each kiss never going beyond surface level. A fog was rolling in on the both of you. Dense in the air was the feeling of longing for more. These desires were as desperate as they were aimless. The two of you would never truly be able to get enough of eachother.

Your hands found themselves tenderly smoothing over the hair on his face. At this point, you knew him all too well. He was waiting for you to demonstrate to him how far you were willing to go. Logan felt the tip of your tongue swipe his bottom lip and the grunt this illicited from him sent a rush to your core.

He greeted your tongue with his and next thing you knew, your mouths were inseparable- locked together with no intentions of coming up for air anytime soon. Logan's movements still remained steady and deliberate. He was hedonistic in how he savored every sensation. His hands moved lower to knead at the dip in your hips to steady himself. Yours remained on his face to keep him locked in this embrace.

The two of you could of stayed like this forever, wetting eachother's appetite as you both held on for dear life. Forever came to an end when the hold music cut out abruptly- "Sorry for the wait, m'am. How may we help you?"

That night the students were still camped out in the common area whilst the repairs on their rooms were in progress. They made themselves comfortable on couches and in sleeping bags. It wasn't an ideal situation, but you tried to make it fun for them. You prepared popcorn and let them watch a few movies past their typical bedtime.

After the kids were all settled in for the evening, you joined everyone else in the kitchen. The soft buzzing of activity put you at ease. Within the room, Scott and Logan were complaining to one another- a cornerstone of their relationship.

"I don't understand why Charles couldn't just let us fix up the place ourselves like we aren't more than capable," Scott whined. He stood behind where Jean was sitting, leaning on the back of her chair.

"I reckon he doesn't think we're fit for the job," Logan left his position against the wall when he was greeted with your presence. Everyone's eyes were on him as he gravitated towards you.

"You know there are codes and regulations for stuff like that, right?"Jean remarked through a mouthful of pasta. "Stick to fixing sinks and patching up walls and leave the rest to the professionals."

He was standing right next to you now, hand at the small of your back while the conversation continued, "I'm telling ya, they didn't look very professional to me."

Logan took it upon himself to investigate the workers from the roofing company. They had arrived earlier to assess the damage. It didn't sit right with him how late they came and at such short notice. He took note of their attire- neat work pants and button ups that appeared to have never seen a day of hard labor in their life. The men were also absent of the distinct musk that handing tiles and other construction materials gave off. No traces of dust or dirt, the only thing Logan's nose detected was the unremarkable scent of a sterile office space.

"If they end up doing an inadequate job, you and Scott owe us a big, fat I told you so," Ororo chimed in from in front of the fridge. "Until then, the two of you can hush."

Logan's brows lifted and he rolled his eyes. It was hard to argue with a literal goddess. The hand at your back snaked its way to your hip, pulling you closer. He needed you close and he didn't care who knew. In fact, he preferred it that way. There would be no question of who he belonged to, because no one would dare mess with the woman who had his heart.

Knowing looks were cast in your direction from every corner of the kitchen. Everybody in the mansion has always regarded you with respect, even if you had a tendency to fade into the background. Frankly, you were not used to this kind of extra attention.

You pretended not to notice but Logan could tell it was bothering you. "Uh oh, I guess they know I'm sweet on ya, doll," he muttered to only you before planting a kiss to the top of your head, guiding your focus away from the prying eyes and back to him. "I'm going out for a smoke, c'mon."

Logan kept his arm around your waist as he escorted you through the mansion. You weren't sure where he was taking you, but you didn't care. As long as you were with him, all other details were not of concern.

The two of you turned a corner and he stalled, catching you from tripping over your interrupted step. An unfamiliar silhouette stood at the end of the hall, casting a long shadow against the dark wooden floor. Logan's body tensed up and all his senses were on alert. He recognized that sterile scent from earlier.

"Stay here," Logan commanded as he grabbed and secured you against a nook in the hallway. His touch was rougher than what was typical for when he handled you. You could feel the urgency in his grasp.

You froze in place and watched as he made his way towards the stranger. Logan took an intimidating stance, arms hunched out and prepared to make a move at a moment's notice. "Any reason you're still here? Why don't you head home, bub?"

The other man stayed silent in response. At this point, you and Logan both knew something was not right. He stood a few feet away from the stranger while waiting for provocation to retaliate.

The dim light caught between Logan's knuckles. Shining appendages gradually expanded from his fist with a sound unlike anything you have ever heard before- a combination of flesh tearing and a metallic shling that made you a bit queasy. He was preparing to strike.

You knew what they were. It was no secret to you what Logan was equipped with. His fellow X-Men would tell you wild stories about the vicious Wolverine that fought alongside them on missions, describing someone completely different from the man that you've come to know.

After what felt like an eternity but in actuality couldn't have been more than a few seconds, the man made his move. He grabbed something at his side. Everything was happening far too fast for you to catch what it was.

A large cracking noise reverberated off the walls as Logan was struck on the shoulder. You couldn't tell if the sound was the weapon breaking or him. He toppled over slightly, swinging his sharp claws at the stranger's legs with a roar. A twisted symphony of growls, grunts and shredding rung through your ears.

Before you knew it, the stranger slumped to the floor with a thud. The man wasn't dead, the exasperated breaths that he was squeezing out of his lungs made that much clear. Logan wasn't going to let him take another step towards everything that he cared for.

A group of speeding footsteps could be heard behind you as they made their way onto the scene. Jean, Scott, and Ororo must of heard the commotion. Still high off his own adrenaline, Logan turned to face you and his teammates. You could barely make out the dark fluid dripping from his claws and onto the floorboards. The air smelled like a roll of newly-minted pennies.

His eyes caught on your face. He had on an expression that you have never seen before. Wide-eyed and crazed, with a hint of something you couldn't quite put your finger on. Was it rage, remorse, or maybe even shame? Arms now limp at his side, Logan's slowly slid his claws back into himself.

You now understood the paralyzing fear his enemies must have felt when they faced him in combat. More importantly, you understood that he would preserve the safety of those around him without hesitation. All you could do was stand and stare, half expecting him to be pulled towards you like an opposite magnet similar to how he did earlier- but he didn't.

No one asked any questions. They all had a mutual understanding of what was to be done next and they made quick work of that. Jean took the man to the infirmary to treat his injuries and to be questioned later on. Ororo and Scott patrolled the mansion to see if the aggressor was alone, securing every enterence around perimeter. Now it was just you and Logan alone together again.

The gap was bridged between the two of you when you cautiously stepped towards him. The closer you got, the harder it was for him to maintain eye contact with you. Logan wanted to avoid this moment for as long as possible and he deluded himself into thinking he may of been able to forever.

You stood before him, granting him the space to recoup from what just happened. He was still stiff in posture.

"Well, we shouldn't just stand here," you were desperate to break up this painfully strained moment. "Those kids are probably scared, they don't know what's going on."

Logan followed close behind you, still on alert. To your surprise, the students were sound asleep in the common area. The movie still playing in the background must have drowned out the commotion down the hall. You sat on the last remaining couch that didn't have someone passed out on it and patting the space beside you. "Let's stay just here while we wait to hear back from everyone else."

Good idea, he thought. If anyone with nefarious intentions got to you or the children while he was absent, Logan would never forgive himself. Might as well make himself comfortable because he was not planning on getting a lick of sleep tonight. He sat down next to you, keeping a noticeable distance.

You thought of something you could do or say to put his mind at ease. Just when you thought you were starting to tear down his walls, he puts up another barrier. It was frustrating. All you wanted was to know what he was thinking.

"I don't really know what else to say but... thank you, Logan." You really meant it. No one was hurt because of him. The way he was quick to act with no regard for himself was unlike anything you had ever seen before.

"Don't mention it," he muttered shortly. Logan cut himself off before he could assure you with the usual affectionate pet name. You noticed this, and it made your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.

"Are you... hurt?" You knew he was okay, even if he felt the pain in the moment like anybody else would. "You took quite a blow back there."

"M'fine." He couldn't even look at you. You were getting nowhere.

"Whatever it is, just know that I love you, Lo." He was now viewing you from his peripheral, not even turning his head. You felt your voice start to waver, "All of you, every part. Don't worry about saying it back. I just need you to know that."

"Love ya, too. Not another word now, sweetheart, I mean it." Logan pulled you into him and you wrapped yourself around his side. You obeyed his request even if there was so much more you both could say.

You dozed off on his shoulder as he stayed awake through the night, ruminating on his conflicting feelings. It amazed him how even after you've seen the animal- no, the monster he saw himself as, you still felt secure in his presence.

Tonight he gave you a piece of himself he never intended to give, and you cradled that piece in your hands with a tenderness no one has ever granted him. His cheeks became damp with sparse tears as he kept his eyes darting between every point of entry. Under this roof, he was loved. He was needed. Anyone threatening his home better be ready to beg for mercy.

Charles assigned everyone busywork while he formulated his next move. He suspects that the X-Men were close to getting to the bottom of what was going on with the shadow organization, and perhaps that's why the mansion was targeted. Logan was more than happy to distract himself by putting his calloused hands to good use. In the end, him and Scott got what they wanted. They both worked from the inside while Ororo flew between sections of the busted roof.

You assisted them any way that you could, mostly by running supplies back and fourth. The mansion was filled with chatter about the night previous, but no one would have many answers until Jean finished questioning the intruder.

By nightfall, building materials had run out and there was nothing left to do until the stores opened the next day. A sizable portion had gotten done, but there was still plenty of work ahead.

After dusting himself off, Logan pulled you to the side. "Meet me in my room in a bit, yeah?" he rasped in a way that put you on edge. The two of you hadn't exchanged many words that day. The most you were able to get from him were single-word replies paired with a hungry look in his eyes.

"Are we going to talk, then?" You anxiously rubbed the tip of his elbow as you spoke.

"Talk?"

You bit your lip. Maybe now wasn't the best time to push him out of his comfort zone. "I care about you, Logan. I'd like to know what's on your mind sometimes."

"Hmm..." he leaned into you, close enough you could feel every exhale of each breath he took. "What if I showed ya instead of saying it with words? How's that, darlin'?"

A flutter was felt in the depths of your core as you realized what he might have in mind. "Yeah, I'd like that."

With a kiss that was much too quick, the two of you parted. You checked in with Charles like you always did before you retired for the night. After confirming he didn't need anything from you, it was time to make your way back towards Logan.

You approached his door and for a second, you hesistated. If Logan always made you feel safe when you were around him, why were you so damn nervous? There was so much pent up energy inside you that you were almost afraid to release. You felt for him far too much and you didn't want to mess this up.

The metal of the doorknob was cold in your hands as you turned it. Inside the room, Logan sat in a chair in the far corner in the low light of a desk lamp. He was leaning back with his legs spread apart.

"C'mere, baby," he set down his glass of whisky on the side table and gestured you towards him with his pointer finger. "Been hard at work all day. All I want is my sweet girl."

Logan never took his eyes off you as you made your way toward him. You felt his gaze shift up and down your body. When you stood before him, he looked up at your face again and patted his lap.

You sat down with your legs splayed across his own. He kept you in place on top of him with an arm around your waist while his fingers absent-mindedly stroked your upper thigh. All that was on his mind was how perfectly you fit against him. This is what he wanted- to clear his thoughts. You were the only person who had the power to do that for him.

"Wanna know what's really been on my mind, huh?" His words came out rough and strained. Before you had showed up, Logan was already getting himself worked up. He was savoring the sweet silence and the harsh bite of liquor all while visions of you danced around his head.

Logan ran the pad of his thumb back and fourth across your bottom lip, steady and focused. Blood rushed to your face and you couldn't help but purse your lips to gently kiss the tip of his calloused finger. This only encouraged him further.

You felt his digit dip past your lips and you obediently parted them. He started to rub small circles on the tip of your tongue, collecting saliva. Once he was pleased with how wet your mouth had gotten for him, Logan slid his thumb all the way in.

Gentle strokes to the back of your tongue was all the instruction you needed. You hollowed out your cheeks and began to suck as he pumped his finger in and out in a agonizingly slow motion. This action somehow both shut off your brain and fired all of it's synapses simultaneously.

"Now that's a good girl." His low, rough voice continued to fill the air with praises as you salivated around his digit. Logan was a man of few words, but he'd run his mouth nonstop about inane nonsense if it meant he could keep you here like this. He couldn't help but feel this way, you were being so good for him.

It was all so was maddening. Didn't he know how frustrating this was for you? Of course, the man knew. He could hear in your pulse, smell it in your perspiration. The sillage of the arousal between your legs was the most prominent as it wafted around him. Knowing that you are just as crazy about him as he is about you was the only way he could be satisfied. Logan figured now was the perfect time to take things a step further.

"Your mouth feels so good, sweetheart," he cooed through steady breaths. "Wanna taste the real thing?"

Your jaw dropped a little and your eyes widened. This was getting too real too fast. Fantasies were crossing over into reality and the excitement was almost too much. Your heart was now pounding against your ribcage.

Logan was gazing at you with soft eyes, pupils blown out to their fullest extent as he awaited your answer. You couldn't say no to him when he was looking like this. No longer were you going to let your nerves stop you from getting what you truly wanted. Especially when the thing you wanted was pressing into the underside of your thigh.

You nodded with his thumb still in your mouth. He drew it out with a string of spit gradually stretching until it broke apart. The same hand then held you by the jaw and pulled you into a kiss. Every muscle in your body seemed to give out. You had no choice but to lean into him, palms pressed into his solid chest.

The exchange was hungry, wet. Way sloppier than he has ever kissed you before and it caught you a bit off guard. He took turns between sucking at your top and bottom lip. You let him take what he needed while you savored the taste of him- faint flavors of cigars and whiskey. So decadent, so Logan.

"Tell me, baby," He used his grip on you to pull you back so he could admire your swollen lips, slicked from his own mouth. To him you were the most gorgeous like this, when you looked like something that was his. Logan's breath was hot againt your face. "Need to know how bad you want it."

"Please, I..." you trailed off trying to find the right words. You've never spoken your desires out loud for anybody to hear like this before. "I need it, Lo. Please let me taste you."

"Hmm..." Logan mockingly looked to the side as pretended to think about your request, like he somehow had pros and cons to weigh about having your lips wrapped around his cock. Then he clicked his tongue. "How can I say no to my girl when she asks so sweetly. Of course you can, baby."

He connected your lips to his again, tongue unabashedly exploring your mouth. So warm and velvety, Logan couldn't believe you were about to use it for his pleasure. You gathered your bearings and kissed him back, matching his fervor. It wouldn't be surprising if the nicotine and alcohol was getting into your bloodstream this way.

His hands found the dip in your hips as he lifted you up. You squealed as Logan placed you exactly where he wanted you- on the floor with your back pressed up to the foot of the bed.

You gazed upwards at the man before you. The buldge in his jeans was eye level with you in a way that was honestly a bit intimidating. Shaky hands reached for his belt. Your body was acting with very little input from your brain, so drunk off of him.

Logan's buckle was undone with a clink and you slid his belt out of the denim loops. The way he was watching you with big, dark eyes made you hot with embarrassment. That feeling mixed with the heat between your legs practically melting you into a puddle on his floor.

After popping the top button and unzipping his pants, the material fell to his ankles. His cock was straining against the cotton of his boxers. You notice a damp patch around where the head is. Without thinking, you leaned forward and closed your mouth around the clothed tip. Logan tasted better than you expected; rich and heady, sweet and salty. You were desperately sucking the precum out of the fabric, already addicted to the taste.

"Such a dirty little tease," Logan groaned, gaze never departing from the look of mindless bliss on your face. "Couldn't even wait to undress me to get a taste."

In an unexpected move, he pulled you back with a hand on your neck and yanked his boxers down with the other. His cock swung around from the momentum, casting a shadow over you.

Logan held himself by the base, rubbing the cockhead across your bottom and top lips. His arousal was speared all over your mouth "Don't you look so fucking pretty. Think we found you your new favorite lipstick, sweetheart?"

"Mmm hmm," you agreed, the sound vibrating though his length making him shudder.

"Now open up, baby," Logan was practically whining. He was just as deperate at this point. You obey and part your lips.

He slid his cock past your wet, swollen lips. Your tongue ran against the vein on the underside of his cock, the taste of him even stronger now. "That's it, just like that. Doin' so good for me."

The back of your head was cushioned by the edge of the mattress and he shallowly thrust into your mouth. Logan was testing how much of him you could take. The obscene symphony of you slurping and gagging around his dick was more than enough to make him lose his mind. He wiped a tear streaming down your cheek away with his thumb.

You push your head forward, bringing him into your throat. Logan would be happy with anything you were willing to give. Still, you felt the need to prove yourself to him, make him proud. You were demonstrating how you would chose his cock over air. With each loud, deep groan from the man above you, you took him in deeper.

"M'gonna... fuck," his hips quivered and his voice was faltering. You knew what that meant- soon you would get the reward for all your hard work.

"I'm almost there. Can I please cum in your mouth, sweetheart?" Logan reached down to push the hair out of your face. All you could do is look up at him through your watery vision- eye contact acting as a silent permission. While panting sequences of please, please, baby, please, he pushed himself to the back of your throat.

Rope after rope of his hot, thick spend filled your mouth. Some of it slid down your throat causing you to cough around his cock, making a mess of the both of you. Logan rode out his high with a few more additional thrusts before gently pulling out.

"On the bed, c'mon," he lifted you up and made you sit on the edge of the mattress. There, he stood between your legs and began lapping up all the excess cum on your face. Your mind was so clouded by arousal, all you could do was pathetically whine at the sensation.

"Shh, shh..." Logan reassured you between tender kisses, delighting in the taste of himself on you. "Don't worry, sweet thing. I'll make sure you are taken care of."

He starting to knead at your breasts through your shirt, feeling your heart beat fast in your chest. "You're gonna let me make you feel good, aren't ya?"

"Yes, Lo. Please," your words were barely audible through airy gasps.

He didn't waste another second removing your top. If Logan was able to rewind this moment and watch it over, he would be embarrassed by the groans slipping so easily from his lips. The anticipation of finally being able to feel you, to worship you- it was almost too much.

To take out his excess frustration, Logan started attacking you with his mouth. He licked, sucked, and bit from jugular to your sternum like he was trying to eat you alive. All while snaking his hands around your back to unclasp your bra. Marks were already blooming across your chest. No one could deny who you belonged to now.

Your nipples wound themselves into tight buds from the sudden exposure to air. Rough palms warmed them up again as he desperately groped at you. You let out a long moan when you felt him roll your nipples between his calloused fingertips.

"Sensitive, huh?" Logan exhaled into your neck, "just how I knew they'd be."

He trailed sloppy kisses down to your breasts, marking the mounds with the signature of his mouth. His warm tongue swirled around your hardened bud as the hand it replaced trailed lower.

Logan was completely gone at this point, suckling at your tits like it was the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his long life. You felt his teeth graze the sensitive area and you threw your head back in response. Every whimper and mewl was music to his ears.

His love bites almost distracted you from the palm underneath your skirt groping your thigh. Logan's hand was brought to the front of your mind when his fingers grazed the damp crotch of your panties.

"Got this wet just from sucking my cock? What a needy little thing. It's okay, it's all yours now, sweetheart. I'm all yours." He incoherently rambled with your tit in his mouth, "don't you worry 'bout a damn thing, baby."

He slid his hand under the waistband of your panties, palm now flush against your wet, hot cunt. You squirmed in his grasp, overstimulated from having your breasts and pussy worked at the same time. A finger rubbed circles around your enterence before dipping into the quivering hole.

Logan's mouth was still sucking and biting your flesh raw until your entire chest was flushed. The scratch of his beard only made it more intense. You glistened under the low light from a mixture sweat and saliva coating your complexion. He pumped a single finger in and out of you, losing control of the pace. You squeezed around him when he crooked the digit, swiping your sweet spot with every thrust.

Your arousal was all but leaking down to his wrist as he inserted another finger, fucking you knuckle-deep with his hand. He could tell you were close by the way you were scratching at his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life.

"C'mon, let it out. Be a good girl and let it all go for me." Logan groaned into your chest while you grinded your hips onto his hand. He didn't stop or slow down when your legs violently shook around him. The pressure building in your gut was about to burst.

The wind was completely knocked out of you as you came. "Breathe, baby, breathe," he coaxed you through your high. Your windpipe opened again and you gasped for air, shocks from your orgasm still rippling through you.

A lewd, wet noise sounded out as he slipped his fingers out of you. Logan brought them to his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning from the taste. He met your lips with his and the swirl of flavors from eachother was unlike anything you ever tasted. There was no way you wouldn't be thinking about the taste the next day, craving it's decadence until you got your next fix.

Logan kissed and held you throughout the night. From here on out, he didn't want to make it to another morning without you in his arms. That was where you belonged and that was where he'd make sure you stayed.

Fin.

#I didn't plan to make this so damn long oops #I also didn't plan to spend over a month working on it but here we are. hope you enjoy.#Wolverine fanfic #Wolverine x reader #Logan Howlett fanfic #Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett smut #Logan Howlett fluff

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prettynice8 · 1 year ago

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Kinkmas Day 19: Spanking

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x male reader

This guy

Warnings: Kissing, no actual sexy times, jealousy, marking, funishment, BDSM? spanking DUH

Word count: 1147

You were just having a normal conversation with Yuji, who's probably the sweetest person you know.

"I fucking hate that geriatric fuck of a principal." You stated sourly, referring to the Kyoto school's principal, the weird guitar dude.

"He is pretty weird." Yuji agreed, not quite sharing your fiery hatred of the man.

"That whole Kyoto school is pretty weird, except for Todo I don't like any of them." You exclaimed.

"You like Todo?" he asked, surprised that you would like someone such as him.

"He's a silly guy, and hot, just a loveable teddy bear that I want to plow me." You said bluntly and with a straight face. It was after this declaration of thinking someone is kind of attractive is when Megumi appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"Who's hot?" Megumi asked a little too quickly.

"Just Todo." You responded.

"Why?" He questioned again, "He's just a big fanboy who's dumber than rocks."

"Big being the operative word here." You said, catching Megumi off guard.

"He still calls me his brother; I don't know what's up with that." Yuji said.

"Well clearly not, compared to you he looks like a hunchback." You joked, causing both you and Yuji to giggle, while Megumi's face remained emotionless, maybe even a tad frustrated.

"No one compares to your beauty." Yuji joked back, bringing up even more laughter.

"Period." You said, then snapping your fingers. This causes Yuji to burst out into laughter, even gaining a smile from Megumi.

"Straight boys like you love me when I do that." You exclaimed, referring to Yuji.

"Bold of you to assume I'm straight." Yuji said before kissing your cheek, causing you to unknowingly blush. That's when Megumi breaks his long-standing silence.

"That reminds me why I'm over here. Y/N, could you come with me?" Megumi asked, seeming semi upset.

"What about Yuji saying, 'Bold of you to assume I'm straight' and then kissing me reminds you of coming over here?" You asked, a little snicker coming from Yuji in the background.

"Just come with me." Megumi demanded before grabbing your arm, pulling you away from poor sweet Yuji.

"Holy shit fine, got the message." You said, Megumi is still pulling you along with him.

"Goodbye Pookie." Yuji called out as you were being dragged away.

"Byesie daisies, love of my life." You called back, causing you both to giggle at each other, this also makes Megumi hold on to your arm tighter and walk faster.

"So, what did you want?" You asked. Megumi stays silent, just dragging you along with him to who knows where and to do who knows what, hopefully fucking.

You were a bit of a man whore, having mini crushes on Yuji, Megumi, Yuta, and even your teacher Gojo. If any of those men made a move, you would be putty in their hands, which is exactly what you are when Megumi brings you to his room and instantly shuts the door, slams you against the wall, and begins to kiss you roughly.

You obviously reciprocate, hands already going to undo the buttons of his shirt, but he stops you after only popping the first two.

"Stop." He ordered simply, holding your hands between his own. "You need to be punished."

"Punished?" You questioned, looking at him with your hand, now gone from his grasp, resting on your popped hip. "We're not in Fifty Shaded of fucking Gray here."

"Shut up." He said simply, which you obey, already getting caught up in his dick sand.

He then proceeds to pull up his comfy spinny chair, sitting down on it and gesturing for you to get on his lap, which you do quickly. He returns to kissing you, his tongue entering your mouth.

He dominates your tongue with ease, even putting it between his teeth and lightly biting it. He then takes your tongue out of his mouth and proceeds to go down to your neck.

He leaves light kisses throughout, with the occasional lick or two. For such an anti-social weirdo he really seems like he knows what he's doing, which is only further proven when his light kisses turn into rough bites.

He wants people to know who you belong to, and they will after he's done with you.

Megumi then flips you over, so your stomach is on his legs, your pants are also gone, all of which happening within an instant and before you could even tell what's going on.

"Wha-" He cuts you off.

"Like I said, you need to be punished for being such a fucking slut." He's rubbing your bare ass all the while, not that you're complaining.

He does this for a while until suddenly and without warning slaps your ass the force of a truck. You scream from the pain, though not just because it hurts. A bright red handprint starts to form on your left cheek. He goes back to rubbing your ass sensually, almost as if he didn't just hit you there mere seconds earlier.

"Told you." Which is all Megumi says before going straight back to slapping your other cheek. You scream even louder this time because his slap was even harder, if that's even possible.

"Ready?" Megumi asked, catching you off guard since he didn't ask the two times he previously did this. You answer with a nod, but that's not good enough for him. "Use your words."

"Yes." You answered quickly. That's all Megumi needs before going back to slapping you bare ass, this time going one spank after another.

He almost has a rhythm with it, going one after the other in perfect timing. The sounds of his spanking, along with your screaming/moaning fill the room and probably the hallway. His slaps are truly relentless.

At first it just hurt like a bitch, maybe a slight undertone of sexual pleasure, but now you are moaning your ass off, literally. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the pain of his continuous slaps.

You start to think that it will never end, both terrifying and exciting. You belong to belief all at once. But sadly(?), he stops his force of 1,000 supernova spankings.

Megumi sensually rubs your completely red and sensitive ass, putting it back on his lap as he wipes the tears from your eyes.

"Did you learn your lesson?" He asked, giving you a kind smile that completely contrasts what he was just doing.

"Fuck off." You started before getting up and off his lap, heading out the door, but before you did you offered a wink to Megumi and then kissed his cheek. "Hopefully."

He begins to blush, his confident persona totally forgotten at your act of affection.

You walk into the hallway, walking down to your own room, rubbing your sore and hurt ass. That's when Yuji runs into you.

"What the fuck happened?" He asked.

THE END

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theshadeblindcolor · 5 days ago

Text

Pvp civ episode thoughts under cut

Bows.

Pvp check again

HOLY SHIT ITS FAKE??

Parrot mention!!

Journaling is crazy. Keeping up in vlogmus

Guard. SEAWATT IS A BOW?!!

Welcome back seawatt, fucking crazy

Tabi betraying 😭🙏

My boy loves spending money, i know finically stability hates to see him coming

Wembo

Julie!

I’m having a great time, there is no need for these speakers ngl but i’m glad he’s having time.

WOAH??

ANIMATION?? MUSCI??

WHAT IS SO SICK WTF??

welcome back 2013 title screens

Holy shit this is fucking cool

I see an animation coming soon.

THIS SI SO FUCKING COOL

He’s so sad :((

Tabi 🙏🙏😭

“Maybe in another life…” I HATE PARALLELS

Minutetec like an older brother who doesn’t give a shit.

Background music is crazy, Ok production value??

I’m fucking tweaking.

Waiting for my pookie bear (parrot)

Pvp is so silly. Back in the rooom, Wooow.

Why isn’t bro taking damage

Gaurd friend!!!

my silly billy.

MY SHAYLA, MY SHALYA I LOVE PARROT

He has the personality of a british perosn

This is like weapon racism, avatar the last airbender kinda stuff

Guard friend and Parrot finally meet, my gays.

Don’t leave my shayla please, please i love him.

PRINCE ZAM!

You and i are gonna talk :/

Ruh roh raggy, my shayla got introuble with his boss.

Ok lore drop.

Bro just murdered someone for no reason 😭

Infinite arrows ok slay

Destroy the world again?

all bows are gone :(((

fin.

#red’s pkciv ramblings #pvp civilization

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braisedhoney · 1 year ago

Note

bear. oh bear. you have got to be kidding me.

THIS IS THE COOLEST THING?? HELLO????

(screaming in tags as always bc it'll get LONG otherwise)

I think a spaceship that makes no sense is the spaceship that makes the most sense for this crew, considering all that happens around here, Captain.

Moist regards,

#0505

honestly #0505, you're right and you should say it. i like to imagine that our ship is a very strange bastion of the crossovers where each character has a spiderverse-like portal we just... drag them into sometimes for whatever shitposts we make lmao ;; it makes sense then that the ship itself just. doesn't abide by the rules of reality. it's an eldritch thing. open a door that led to the second floor? bam, you're already in the room you're looking for. labs? nope, kitchen.

the only time it's ever consistent is like. in a crisis. then for some weird reason everything is in place. (plot convenience, the reason is plot convenience.)

also please dry off your regards, they're going to contaminate the lab samples of the hell mushrooms. o7

#ney's reblogs #captain's gift log (other's art)#holy shit. where do i even begin #god i'm almost at a loss for words i can't believe i missed this while on break #BEAR THIS IS LIKE TEN PAGES OF FULLY COLORED AND SHADED COMICS WHAT THE HELL #FIFTEEN??? IT'S FIFTEEN??????!#okay first two pages. i can't BELIEVE how funny that is #that's not exactly how it works bc the ship is like it's own entity #but my god that's a hilarious mental image because if it explodes every time i get excited about something...#gaster spam is so real tbh #THE CUSTOM UNIFORM FROM HELL OMG #god the space suits were so much fun #i love how grumpy they look it's like something out of a sitcom #NARRY CHASING US WITH THE LINES??#personal headcanon that to build up resistence and stamina crewmates piss off narry and bolt while he chases #it's a dangerous game but it's FUN #i love how the background changes colors depending on the featured character too #we're suffering okay please we didn't mean it i'm not made for exercise orz #THE WHOLE PORTION WITH THE HELL MUSHROOMS??#aside from how ridiculously sick that warped version of my sona looks (IT'S SO COOL?)#i can't get over how hilariously wrong that all went #this is why you ask before you eat stuff not in the cafeteria guys it's important #kat losing her mind when narry gives even the slightest bit of positive attention is precious and funny #he would totally be a cat person but like only bc they leave him alone most of the time ahsbfkskksdk #also?? you included SO MANY of my sona variants in that last one omg #it's just damn cool. thank you for putting in so much effort for the ridiculous lore we somehow built up for this blog #i've hit tag limit like twice and been trimming it down but. i just wanna say that this is crazy and i appreciate the hell out of it #tales aboard the hive

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bababaka · 8 months ago

Text

Tell me a story. And i'll tell you a thousand more - Bade x reader

Summary: Hollywood Arts, the most privilleged arts school in the USA. And amongst many young talented teens, you were chosen to enter it. To be study there and be part of it. You couldn't believe it.

"Holy shit! I got in!"

This will change your life! And you are determined to make the most of it.

Warnings: swear words, not edited completely, i just needed to get this out of drafts, i will later edit.. And... that's it i guess? Like, bullying, mean teachers, but nothing much i guess. Oh, i also used google translate. So yeah. Have fun.

Author's note: so, i had this in my drafts for a while. I always had a crush on these two, and nobody wrote a fic with those two that fulfilled my need for them, so... here i am. Trying to mash my thoughts together and write something at least nice or ok. Im trying to write well. Don't have high expectations, im not a seasoned writer yet. Might never be. Also, unfortunately for me and you guys, this is a multichapter fanfiction. Sooo, you'll have to bear with me with slooooow updates. And im sorry for that. Anyways, enough chit chat, i present you, the chapter one to this mess.

Chapter 1 : I got in!

“Hollywood Arts”. The most privileged arts school in the United States of America. Only the most talented people passed the test. The list of competitors was huge. But, here you were, Y/N Y/L/N, in front of the school gates. You had passed the test, thousands of people competing against each other, and you had succeeded.

Honestly, it seemed too good to be true. The majesty of the construction, students, certainly in their second and third year, full of confidence, dancing, singing, playing, drawing, acting and even proclaiming poetry.

This was too much to digest.

You could barely believe it when you read the email, your mother cheering and shouting in the background, while you remained frozen staring at the computer, reading and re-reading your school admission.

The best arts school in the country.

You entered.

Holy shit! I entered!

You have always been passionate about dancing.

It all started when your mother caught you in your room dancing to “hips don’t lie” in a completely clumsy and enthusiastic way. She then decided to take you to dance classes. You were 4 years old.

Years passed and you fell in love.

Dancing was expressing yourself. Tell a story. Saying what words were sometimes unable to express. Sadness. Happiness. Emotion. Desire. Anger. Feelings in their purest form.

And then, you discovered ballet.

Ballet made your heart race in a way nothing else did. The slow and elegant steps, fast and rigorous. Dancing made you feel alive, happy, ecstatic.

At the height of your 10 years, watching a small part of the film your mother was watching, Black Swan, before her noticing your presence and kicking you out to your room, you found yourself trapped, in a trance, enchanted by the dance, by the way how the actress moved, how she leapt into the air and landed softly on the stage.

The next day, you begged your mother to take you to ballet classes.

At first, it was difficult. The dance classes previously were fun, relaxed. Here, they asked for excellence. Your teacher was strict and classmates were mean. There were many days when you came home crying or upset. Your mother tried to change classes, convince you to go back to dance classes, but you were stubborn. And you were more than determined to show everyone, your teacher, your classmates, that you were good, that you could be the best. So you did what you could, trained and trained, danced until your toes grew calluses and you could no longer support yourself properly.

It was difficult, but now, more than ever, you saw the results of your efforts. Oh, how you would love to see the faces of the girls who tried to get into the school but failed. You did it.

#Suckit

You would love to rub it in each of their faces. But, you didn't have time for that. What you had to do was take a deep breath, enter those gates and find where your first class would be.

Here we go.

The hallways were crazy, lost students like you walked by, friends who hadn't seen each other for the entire vacation and others who argued, dissatisfied with the classes they fell into.

Although you felt tempted to ask one of the students, you thought it would be safer to ask an adult. Supervisor, coordinator, any adult. A teacher, janitor.

You didn't trust students, especially at a talent school, the ego and arrogance must be astronomical.

You watched Glee. You didn't want to end up in a crackhouse.

But unfortunately, the hallways were full of teenagers, and there was no teacher, sign, or voices coming out of speakers magically guiding you in the direction of your next class.

You look around, searching for someone who was as lost as you. You didn't want to be the only idiot who didn't know their way around.

You find something similar.

A boy your age, talking and gesturing. He seemed to be asking a paralyzed girl for directions. She didn't even seem to be paying attention.

You didn't know exactly why she was perplexed, maybe he was saying absurd things, but you wouldn't be surprised if the cause of the paralysis was the boy's beauty.

He was beautiful. Dark skin, brown hair, delicate features, not to the point of being androgynous, but of being harmonious, pleasing to the eye. A relaxed brown look, although it is becoming confused and dull.

You decided to step in and save the girl the embarrassment of being caught drooling, and, as a bonus, get the information you so desperately wanted. The direction for your next class, acting.

– Excuse me, uh, I'm lost. Could you help me?

This seemed to work. The boy's posture relaxed, and the girl, in turn, came out of her trance and began to glare at you, shooting lasers from her eyes.

The boy smiled. And, wow. He had incredibly white teeth, and it looked like you were the only girl in the world, the tiny curve of his mouth pulled you in like he was the center of the Earth. The look that had a charm, brown like melted chocolate and all you wanted was to dive in and get lost in them.

Perhaps you have entered a trance.

But as soon as he started talking, you forced yourself to pay attention and not make a fool of yourself.

– I'm also lost. I was asking her – he turned to the “laser beam look”, who immediately stopped with the murderous expression. – But I don’t think you know, do you?

– What? I know! Of course I know! Nobody knows more than me! – and then she started walking, supposedly in the direction of the room where the boy had his class. – You're a first year, right? – she asked the pretty boy, completely ignoring you.

He looked at you sideways.

– Uh, yes, yes, I am. – She nods, and turns forward, determined, as she starts talking without stopping.

She says her name, Trina Vega, how she got into school, how she is so talented at so many things, how popular she was, and that they would make a great couple. At this part, you were shocked, eyes widening quickly, mouth falling open. She was… direct.

And maybe a little clueless, considering that the boy started to walk more slowly, putting distance between him and Trina, and standing next to you.

He leans into your side.

– She's a little… eccentric…

You laugh.

– That may be an understatement. – You look at Trina, who continued to talk. – Look, she hasn't even noticed that you're not paying attention, or even close to her.

It was his turn to laugh.

– Yeah… – He clears his throat. – I'm Beck, nice to meet you. – He stops for a moment, and extends his hand to you.

You say your name and take his hand, shaking it. Soon he started walking again so as not to lose sight of Trina, who was still talking.

– You’re a first year too, right? – You nod in response. – Yeah, I imagined it. Which course did you enroll in?

– Dance, more specifically, ballet. You?

– Cool. I came to do drama, acting.

– Cool. – You smile, he reciprocates.

For a moment, you forgot what you were saying, going and even thinking. He was cute, handsome and had a nice voice to listen to, something rare coming from a teenager. The short hair thrown to the side, looked soft, made you want to run your fingers through the strands.

The cute boy's small, happy smile was damaging your brain, because the world disappeared around him and you couldn't think about anything else.

Until, finally, Trina realized that Beck wasn't close to her, much less listening to what she was saying.

– Hey! – she called. You turned to her, who had a frown that turned into a forced smile. – We arrived, and you didn’t tell me your name. – She leans over and smiles at Beck.

You were ignored, again.

– Oh, it's Beck. And this is. – He tries to introduce you, say you name and be polite. But Trina interrups him, muttering “whatever” and heading back to the door.

Well, that was nice.

– Sikowits, I brought two lost students. – Then the bell rings, and Trina turns to Beck. – I'll see you around, Beck. – He blinked. And gone, probably to his own class.

– Please don't. – Beck says, with a pained expression. But it was too late, Trina couldn't hear him anymore, or at least, she pretended not to.

You sympathized with the situation.

It seems that being too handsome had its downsides.

His attention returned to the teacher who was at the door.

Bald, messy hair and beard, a slightly unbalanced look, layer after layer of clothing, he had a sloppy style. Maybe he was a hippie. Or just weird. It was probably both.

The hippie professor smiled, in a warm, disturbing way (you seriously wondered if that man was sane. You hoped he was).

– Be welcome! What are your names?

Beck withdraws into himself, becoming shy. How cute.

– Beck Oliver.

The please-don't-be-crazy teacher leans over to look at a list that was laid out on the table. The list of student names.

He turns to the boy beside him.

– Oliver? Alberto Oliver?

Beck puts his hand on the back of his head, looks at you sideways, and nods.

– Yes, but I prefer Beck.

– Understood! Come in, come in. – He calls Beck with his hand enthusiastically, the boy enters and sits in one of the chairs. Then, the bald professor turns to you. – Your name?

You say your full name.

– Oh yes. It's here too. Come in and sit down. The class is about to start. I just have to find the lost and innocent sheep that are lost in the corridors.

You made a face when you heard the phrase… He sounded so weird that way…

As long as he didn't kill or abuse anyone and was a good teacher, you wouldn't have a problem.

You entered the room and deciding quickly and safely, you turned to Beck, hoping to find an empty seat next to the boy. But, as expected, all the seats evaporated, and Oliver found himself surrounded by people, mostly girls.

You sighed and sat in the front, next to a girl with red hair (it didn't look natural, but you'd ask later) who had a friendly smile on her face. It seemed like a good option.

You sat down, and introduced yourself. The girl smiled, with her white teeth and a gentle and innocent aura formed around her.

– I'm Cat!

You smiled, enchanted by the redhead's cuteness.

– Cat? Like the animal? – the girl walked away, running her hand through her hair, her brow furrowed.

– What? What do you mean by that?

– No! I'm just saying that cat sounds like a kitten. – You explained yourself, nervously. You didn't want to scare the girl.

– Kittens? I like kittens! They're so cute!

You let out the breath you were holding. Cat returned to the bubble of innocence and happiness that she was at the beginning.

– Yes, they are.

Then, the professor, Sikowitz, if that was really what Trina called him, came back into the room, with a coconut and straw in one hand, and sunglasses in the other.

– Well done, class! I'm not going to ask you to introduce yourselves. You will improvise a scene. You will play the person next to you, I don't care if you don't know each other. Create a character and then live the character!

The Hippie Man asked them one by one to come forward in front of the class.

There were some interesting and funny monologues.

A black boy, with dreadlocks, a beautiful smile and lots of charm, played a shy nerd who stuttered around girls and had a puppet who made derogatory comments about the situation.

The scene was hilarious. Especially when he started interacting with the students while in character.

There were some very good ones.

Beck, who, to your surprise, played one of the girls surrounding him, and, unfortunately for Sikowitz, used the teacher as his scene partner. He was visibly uncomfortable. And the girl too. Shrinking in her chair as Beck performed, exposing how irritating she was.

She'll probably leave the boy alone after this.

Probably.

There was also another girl, brown hair, black leather jacket and pants. She was incredible. Before getting into character, she seemed closed off, grumpy, with a frown on her face. But, as soon as the scene began, her entire expression and body language changed to a more clumsy and agitated girl like a nice but extremely clumsy girl.

And other performances could improve. You were part of the last group. See, you were a dancer, not an actress. You knew you had to take acting classes, but that didn't mean it was your strong point.

You had to play Cat. You weren't horrible, but you could have done better. When he had to face all the attentive eyes of your classmates and the teacher, a chill took over your stomach and a pressure to not make mistakes was placed in your mind. At first, it was difficult, but as the scene developed, your performance improved.

As the last student finished presentation, the teacher stood up, applauding.

– Very good! You have to learn and perfect the ability to transform into a character in a short time, to analyze your character and to transform yourself in the snap of a finger. – He snapped his fingers right in your face, you jerked away reflexively, startling yourself. He smiled. And the bell rang. – Anyway. That's all for today. You even had the chance to socialize and get to know each other. – he said as everyone got up and left. You did the same, gathered your things and stood up. You were at the door when you heard him sigh and murmur:

– Ah, being young, I can remember what it was like to have dreams and hope.

…You were sure this wasn't normal…

You heard your name. You turned around, and saw red hair, you looked down, realizing that Cat was smaller than you. That made her even cuter.

– What class do you have now?

You searched your pockets, in the slim hope of finding your schedule. After long, embarrassing moments, you found it and read it out loud.

– Ballet.

– Oh, I have singing lessons now – Cat seemed to deflate. But only for a few seconds. – Do you want to sit with me at lunch?

You responded quickly, jumping at the opportunity of not having to be alone during lunch.

– Yes of course! – You looked around, remembering Beck, hoping to see him, but in vain, he had already disappeared into the corridors. But, you didn't let that bother, or sadden you, you would invite him to sit with you at lunch, in the low probability of being able to do so before the boy was bombarded by people.

– OK! Until lunch then!

Finding the ballet class was easy. You just followed the smell of pain, tears, deceit and extreme competition.

…Actually, you just followed the girls in buns and leotards.

You entered the room, or rather dance salon. The floor was smooth and black, a large mirror covering the entire wall, a large speaker and a piano at the back of the room.

The teacher, apparently, was not there. But the students were already stretching. Some in groups, others alone.

You saw some faces you had already anticipated. The rich, mean girls who were born doing ballet. The girl obsessed and completely focused on doing her best, making her potentially meaner than the other girls. The pretty boy who, because he does ballet, thinks he's cool and that everyone is in love with him. The boy who feels the need to say all the time that he's not gay, he just likes to express himself through dancing!

However, you also saw other faces you hadn't seen before, and that was a pleasant surprise. Dealing with the same types of people became boring.

Hollywood Arts would be a beginning, not only of your artistic career, but of a social life in ballet. I didn't want to ruin your high school experience with drama, toxicity, and cliques.

But unfortunately, you didn't have the best start. Because while you were analyzing and admiring everything around you, your teacher arrived, and it was then that you noticed, everyone was stretched out and dressed appropriately, while you were still standing, wearing jeans, sneakers and a shirt. No stretching.

It was instantaneous. Not only did the teacher's eyes land on you. The entire room was focused on you.

Shit. You flinched.

– You're late. – The teacher says, approaching you, like a predator approaches its prey. A panther, walking elegantly and silently, with total firmness and confidence, about to attack a beautiful and vulnerable little rabbit. The panther knows that the rabbit is already dead. Only a matter of time for death to actually occur, until the panther snatches the prey.

The bunny becomes alert, realizing the danger. Look around. Pay attention to your ears and sharpen your vision.

– The bell hasn't rung yet and class starts in 3 minutes.

The panther stops. Paying attention to the victim's movements, but at no time revealing their position or losing their calm.

– Exactly. 3 minutes and you're like this. – She points to your clothes, with clear disdain. The rabbit flinches, sensing claws wrapping around its fur. – Without the leotard and without stretching. Unprepared. I start my class on time, warm-ups start when the bell rings. So, miss late, you have – the teacher glanced briefly at the clock and turned her eyes to you. – 2 minutes to put on your clothes and stretch, otherwise you will go to detention and will not be able to participate in this class.

The rabbit begins to struggle, panic arising as it sees the possibility of death right in front of it.

– But just to get to the bathroom takes a minute.

The teacher smiles, in a sadistic and amused way.

– Then, I suggest you run.

Crunch! Fur turning scarlet, sharp fangs tearing flesh, paws playing with the limp, lifeless body.

You took off. Hearing giggles and one last image of the teacher's smile

The predator was sated. For now.

You admitted it. You've never stretched so quickly and inefficiently, nor were you so frivolous when adjusting your tights.

But, it was what you had to offer at that moment.

– Miss late! You have exceeded your time of 2 minutes, but as I am in a good mood I will let it pass. Let it serve as a warning to everyone. Be prepared BEFORE class starts. Otherwise, well, you don't want to find out. Now, don't just stand there, join the warm-up!

And you fumbled a little out of pure nervousness, and heard some giggling around, but after a few minutes, you were already in your element.

The warm-up was brutal.

Yes, of course, you already had years of ballet, but still, the teacher seemed to want you to kill yourself in the warm-up. Because it lasted 40 minutes.

To you, it felt like two hours.

Damn, who warms up for 40 minutes? Well, apparently, your new teacher.

When the warm-up, which lasts longer and is heavier than you're used to, finally ends, you're sweating profusely and out of breath. Some were in the same state as you, others were worse, and a group of girls were in better shape, they were sweaty and out of breath, but still, visibly more composed.

The teacher waited in silence for a few moments. Just analyzing all the students.

The teacher approaches the group of 5 who were sitting on the floor, taking in lots of air, barely avoiding getting sick. Some were coughing.

– Pathetic. – She said, her lips lifting in disgust and disdain. – What would your names be?

The group fumbled among themselves, saying full names, others just trying and failing in between, preferring to breathe. One boy almost threw up.

The teacher put her hands in the air and waved them. Exasperated.

– Stop, stop, stop. Are you by any chance animals? Don't know how to speak one at a time? – she sighs. – What were you thinking when they accepted you? Hmph… Disgusting…

– Why does every ballet teacher have to be mean? – a girl next to you commented quietly. You laughed quietly, bitterly, as you watched the teacher insult the poor young teens on the floor.

– It must be something they need to have on their resume. “Expert in torturing teenagers.” – You responded in an equally silent tone.

– Also, didn’t she have a vote in the admission of students? Why does she complain about the school's admissions system if she is part of it?

You shrugged.

– Some evil plan to destroy our self-esteem?

The girl quickly turned to you, a small smile on her face and an outstretched hand, as subtle as she could without drawing the teacher's attention.

– I'm Daisy.

You introduced yourself.

And in mutual and silent agreement, they turned to the teacher. You feared what would happen if the teacher caught the students talking.

Your attention returned to the scene and you only heard the last two names of the group. All red, from shame or exhaustion, you didn't know. The teacher didn't answer anything, just left them on the floor, recovering, and started walking around the room, quickly passing in front of each student.

– You are… Pathetic. Some more than others. But – she made a show of sighing loudly. – As you were accepted, I will make you true artists, dancers. You must breathe ballet, move with elegance and dexterity at all times, and face the world, the stage without fear. The classes will be difficult, long and will demand determination and strength from each person. And I will not hesitate to take punitive action against those who are not taking this seriously. Because, as your teacher, your performance in the future will reflect on my image. Therefore, now they will imitate me. I'm the best, and so will you.

The teacher pauses, and you can hear the tension in the air, the nervousness and everyone shifting in their seats, anxious.

– Am I understood?

Several voices sounded throughout the room, including yours. All saying yes. The teacher smiled.

– Good. Now, let's start the class.

You swallowed hard, already feeling tired, but still, strangely excited. It would be a challenge, and you loved difficult things.

After painful and sadistic hours (yes, hours!), the class was finally released for lunch, and then afternoon classes.

The teacher informed them that the ballet class had an exclusive bathroom and that if they wanted (but, from the disgusted way she sounded, it seemed more like a requirement) they could take a shower there.

You perked up when you heard this, and most of the students did too. It would be horrible to have to continue at school with all that crust of sweat on your body.

So, after the teacher left, everyone packed their things and went to either take a shower or have lunch.

You were more than ready to head to the bathroom and shower. You were tired, but the sweat on your body bothered you more than fatigue.

– Hey, are you going to eat or take a shower first?

You looked to the side. The girl you talked to after the warm-up. Was it Daphne? Daniela? Delilah? No, that was ridiculous. It was something with D.

– Im going to the shower. I couldn't eat something feeling dirty.

– You sure? As we are being released early, the queue is non-existent to buy… Anything.

– I'm sure. – You smiled, slightly touched by the girl’s kindness. She waved and said goodbye to you, leaving for lunch.

After a long and well-deserved shower, you head to the cafeteria where the food was. Heavens, how hungry you were!

Arriving in the area, you began looking for Cat and Beck. Not surprisingly, you found Beck first. Surrounded by people, girls and boys.

You decide to try to get past the crowd and rescue Beck, who now seems overwhelmed.

You squeeze between people, making your way through elbows and curses, until you reach the center, feeling several hateful looks on you.

Beck's face lights up when he sees you, and he calls your name, approaching you.

– Hey, what are you doing? – he asks, ignoring the entire crowd around him, and you can feel the commotion that this generates. You smile, focusing on nothing more than the boy in front of you.

– Trying to save you from this crowd by inviting you to lunch with me and Cat.

– Oh, please! I would love to.

You swear something happened around you. People cursed him, complained, maybe even hit you, but your brain melted a little when you saw Oliver's smile. A captivating, happy, friendly expression. It seemed like the air around him shimmered and exuded something almost surreal.

What brought you back to reality was a tap on your shoulder.

– So, where are you sitting? – Beck asked and then you realized, the crowd had dissipated and only the pretty boy was by your side.

– Uh, actually, I haven't chosen the table, nor have I found Cat yet. – You then start looking for the redhead. The brunette at his side.

– Ah, I see… Who is Cat? Your pet? Are animals even allowed at school?

You laugh.

– No, no. She's a girl I met today, in drama class, while you were being surrounded by… Everyone…

Beck sighed and nodded in a more crestfallen manner. You stop looking around for a moment, to fix your eyes on him.

– Does this happen a lot? You're famous and I'm the only one who didn't notice?

– No, I'm not famous, at least not yet. I'm just pretty. – He shrugs lightly, as if it weren't a big deal. And you stop walking, and let out a disbelieving laugh. This time, his lips move to form a cocky smile.

– What? Are you going to say i'm not? – he prods you, and you fumble over your words, not wanting to deny it, but certainly not wanting to confirm it either. However, to your relief, he just laughs at your reaction and continues talking. – People have always approached me because of my – he raises his hands to gesture quotation marks with his fingers. - "exotic beauty". Eventually, I just got used to it.

You observe the boy next to you. Really analyzes him.

He didn't seem like the kind of boy who was an asshole, who thought he was better than everyone else, who believed he had everyone at his feet, when he really didn't.

Beck just seemed aware of the reality he found himself in. After all, he was handsome. Short but silky hair, great style of clothing that sold the cool kid look. If you had to guess, he seemed like a relaxed but extremely cunning type of boy. The guy who smiled at everyone, but had a mouth that dripped with venom.

You had your thoughts interrupted by a high-pitched female voice calling your name. Cat. He took one last look at Beck, who maintained a relaxed posture and the remains of a smile.

Well, you deduced, only time will show Oliver's true face, whatever it may be.

– Cat! I was looking for you! – you approached the redhead. She lit up.

– And, did you find me?

– Apparently, you found me. – When saying this, the redhead makes a sad expression.

– Oh, wow, what a shame. – You frowned, not understanding the line of reasoning, but before you could say anything, Cat was already addressing Beck. – Hi, I'm Cat. – she introduced herself, waving energetically.

Beck laughed, like you would laugh at something cute a puppy did, and waved back, but without the redhead's excessive enthusiasm.

You guys go look for a table. And when they find it, they realize they had nothing to eat. Luckily there was a food truck nearby, and everyone ordered something.

At the table, everyone talked about themselves. You revealed that although it inspired you, you never saw the film Black Swan. Cat talked about her love for purple giraffes and her brother. You were worried at that part, you didn't know if the small girl was joking or not.

Beck talked about how he moved from Canada with his parents to Los Angeles just for school, and talked excitedly about how he liked cars and was looking forward to getting his own.

When they heard sobs around them, that's when they left the bubble they were in.

– You're a bitch!

A blonde girl, green eyes, swollen and moist. She was the one who jumped out of her chair and screamed. Despite her anguished expression, she looked firmly at the table in front of her, and the person who was sitting there.

You recognized who it was from your theater class. She had a gothic style. Eyeliner, black nails, combat boots and dark clothes.

The green-eyed goth girl, you noticed, raised her eyebrow and took her eyes in a deliberate and prolonged manner to the bare legs of the girl in front of her.

– I'm not the one with the scraped knees.

She smiled cruelly, and amidst the deadly silence, a few muffled giggles could be heard.

The blonde girl choked. Tries to justify herself, you think she had says about a skateboard, but was unsuccessful. Then she resignes herself to letting out a sob and running away.

The goth turned her smile into a frown, and looked around, the many eyes in her direction. She faced everyone and with a loud, rude and direct voice, she shouted.

– What are you looking at? – and everyone went back to doing what they did before. Well, you asume that everyone had done it, you didn't bother to check. You just kept your attention on the girl. Curious. You wanted to know what had happened. And how she had made someone cry on the first day of school.

You hated this type of attitude, behavior, personality. You might not be the kindest girl in the world, but you certainly weren't cruel. Even when you felt the urge to be.

It was a shame that such a beautiful girl, with brown hair and green eyes, could be so horrible.

You assumed that beauty would spoil a person. You just hoped Beck wouldn't turn out to be that kind of person. Then, you finally returned your gaze to the table, and discovered that you weren't the only one who remained looking at her. The pretty boy also had his sights set on the table that only had one mean girl on it.

– She's mean. – Cat spoke up, breaking the silence as well as Beck's admiration and thoughts.

– She is. – Beck agrees, nonchalant.

You remain silent, taking one last look in the girl's direction.

It doesn't take long before the bell rings. You say goodbye to them both and head towards classes in the afternoon. The part of your curriculum is completely normal and, after theater and ballet classes, terribly boring.

Chemistry, geography and math classes stretched out, as if they had no end, like a rubber band that when it thought it was about to break, it stretched a little more. However, it didn't matter anymore, you were finally free to go home.

You were exhausted, physically, mentally and spiritually. Names of teachers, subjects, exercises, classmates piling up and colliding in your brain. You had absolutely no energy for anything.

Unfortunately for you, however, when you open the door to your house, you come across your mother, waiting, sitting in a chair, almost jumping with excitement. The true image of a puppy anxiously waiting for its owner.

Your heart is heavy, and your body and soul scream with frustration. You just wanted your bed. But, your mother sees you and you simply accept that you would have to stay awake for a few more moments.

Your mother spews questions one after another at you.

"How it was?"

“Have you made friends yet?”

“Are all teachers weird?”

“Is there anyone famous?”

“Did they treat you well?”

"Are you well?"

"Are you hungry? I made dinner!”

While eating, you told your mother everything, it didn't take long for you to get excited too, even though you were tired.

You leave out some details, like teachers and some bad people, but otherwise, you confess everything. The many beautiful people, with a few exceptions, the strange talents and habits you noticed, strange and normal teachers.

However, sleepiness and tiredness manifested itself through yawning and heavy eyes. Your mother, realizing this, immediately sends you up to your room to get some sleep.

After a relaxing shower, you lay down on your bed, comfortable under the blankets.

Ah, finally.

Chapter 2

#bade x reader #my fics #victorious #beck x jade x reader #jade west #beck oliver #reader insert #Polyamory #Poly

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