#this face journey.. chef's kiss | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpurnatural · 4 months ago

Text

"Feelings" || Requested Oneshot

XO, Kitty - Min Ho Moon x Fem!Reader

Note from Nat: "I received this oneshot request from @plutoOooO! And this is also how I'm announcing that requests are finally open again! *fireworks and confetti* Enjoy loves <3"

Warning(s): Cussing, Smut, Overstimulation,

Kitty plays Matchmaker once again while everyone's preparing for Chuseok at KISS. This leads to both yours's and Min Ho's untold feelings to step into the spotlight once and for all. Feelings quite stronger than just a crush

"I've brought the shopping!" you called out as you stepped into the boys' dorm room. "Q? Kitty?" you say, kicking off your sneakers and heading into the kitchen.

"Hey Y/n!" Kitty greeted after stepping out of her bedroom. "Thanks so much for wanting to help with Chuseok." she smiled as she gave you a hug.

"Of course! I had no idea that so many of us were staying in town for the holiday," you replied, pulling away from the hug. "So, what exactly are we making? Because all I did was follow the list," you said with a little laugh.

"It isn't exactly me and you cooking but rather you and Min Ho," Kitty explained with a knowing grin, which made you heartbeat quicken.

"Me and-"

"-Yep," she nodded, "You guys will be able to spend proper one on one time, totally undisturbed,".

Your lips formed a thin line as you turned to the kitchen sink, “I think I’m going to be sick,” you coughed.

“You’ll be fine, and plus-this is the perfect time to clear the air,” Kitty reminded, patting your back gently.

You and Min Ho had been friends for years. And for half that time, you’ve had feelings for the playboy. And what came with being a playboy? Countless girls, random or never seen again after a few days spent with the friend group.

You always felt as if Min Ho would never want something serious, let alone possible ruin such a good friendship with you. So, for such a long time, you pushed your thoughts and feelings for him away.

No one realized how deep your feelings for Min Ho were til Kitty showed up. She made it her mission as a self-proclaimed Matchmaker to get you two together. She says that “There is definitely some chemistry between you guys.”

“Hey Y/n,” a voice said cheerfully, that voice belonged to Min Ho. “Thanks for getting the shopping,” he beamed as he walked towards you.

“Okay I gotta get going,” Kitty said quickly, dismissing herself from the conversation and the front door shut behind her.

“Hi,” you said with a tight smile, awkwardly moving to grab a couple pans and pots. “What’s on the menu today?” you ask, trying your best to not act weird.

“Well, I do have a method, so I’ll just need you either chop or stir stuff,” Min Ho said as he got closer and placed an arm around your shoulders. “I deem you, my sous chef,” he joked but you couldn’t even find anything he said humorous.

Your stomach felt as if it was flipped upside down. And maybe you were sweating? Maybe you were turning pale? Who knows. But all you knew was that you had no escape and no backup.

“Y/n?”

You snapped out of your nervous daze and looked back up at Min Ho. His face flashed with concern, catching on to your lack of attentiveness.

"Ah yes, I'll just be stirring and chopping away," you say, hands motioning both actions before you quickly dropping them-feeling like a proper idiot.

"Right, let's get to it." Min Ho says, migrating all the veggies and herbs on the counter to the sink. "How come you didn't go visit family Chuseok?" he asks.

"It's quite the journey just to be there for 48 hours or less," you shrugged, clearing the counter of any shopping bags and trash. "What about you?" you questioned.

"As you know, my mom and I usually celebrate Chuseok together, but she couldn't this year. So, she sent me a basket." Min Ho explains, pointing to the gift basket that sat on one of the bar stools.

"That's sweet of her," you commented, glancing over at the present.

Yeah, but my dad? Not so much," he chuckled, drying all the veggies and placing them next to the cutting board. "Can you get started on these?" he requested with a smile.

"Of course," you nodded, absent-mindedly reaching for the onion that was still in Min Ho's hands. "Oh-I"m sorry," you said quickly; after watching it drop to the ground.

"Are you alright Y/n? If you're not up to it, I can get figure this out on my own," he said as he plucked the onion from the floor, wiping it down with a paper towel.

"I'm okay, it's just-" you paused.

"It's what exactly?" Min Ho asks curiously, looking deep into your eyes with his coal black ones.

You took a deep breath before saying, "Okay, Kitty left me here with you so that I could confess my feelings for you". Minho merely blinked so you continued to ramble on. "But clearly, the pressure of me explaining how I fell in love you but also don't want to risk our friendship literally eats my alive!"

"-And I totally understand that you don't feel the same way about me because of that blank look on your face. I just don't know how to stop feeling the way I do about you. I've tried talking to other people and even going on dates but always realized it's you who I wanted to be with." you sigh, and Min Ho squinted slightly with his head tilted to the side.

"-Don't even get me started on the total tens you bring to our hangouts," you add, referring to the girls he brings around. "You're out of my league and such a catch. So honestly, I seem pretty stupid for thinking you might even as much as like me back." you groan as you stormed out of the kitchen and began putting your shoes back on.

"-I just can't do this. I'll just leave." you say, your face feeling hot as you reached for the door.

"Do I not get a say in this?" Min Ho asked, grab hold of your wrist gently.

"I don't feel like hearing you shut me down right now," you grumbled as you turned back to face him.

"Y/n, I'm not going to," he replied with a smile, making your eyes widen.

"What?" you said quickly.

"Why would I? I've fallen for you so hard; a lot, not a little bit." he confessed. "I always thought you were too good for me," he said, now taking proper hold of your hand in his. "You are just so perfect and I'm just me," he shrugged.

You stood in the entryway in disbelief. Min Ho had felt the same way this whole time and you had not a single clue about it.

"If I had known sooner, I would've already done something about it," he said with a smile as he stepped forward and cupped your cheek.

"L-like what exactly?" you stuttered, your breathing hitched as your nose brushed against each other.

"This." Min Ho muttered, pulling you in for a kiss.

Min Ho's soft lips pressed gently against yours and it felt as if they moved in sink. Your arms were slung around his neck as his found their place at the small of your back.

The world felt still but also as if it were spinning, with your eyes shut-all you could focus on was on close Min Ho had pulled you in. It was like he didn't want to ever let you go or move on from this moment. Perhaps you both became the center of gravity, and everything was being put into place.

Both of you pulled away instinctively for some air and your eyes fluttered open, settling on Min Ho's gaze. Your faces remained merely a few centimeters apart, sharing the same breath before leaning once again.

This time, there was a certain kind of passion in the way your kiss felt. Your heart was pounding as your hands ran through Min Ho's well-kept hair. His lips left yours's and began a trail to your jawline, down to your neck.

A gasp escaped your lips as he began suckling on your skin. Quickly being able to identify your sweet spots. Your knees felt as if they were going to give out as he pulled your blouse down for more access. His lips felt like a heaven, you could only imagine how the rest of him was going to feel.

"Oh my-" you moaned as Min Ho worked his way around, leaving marks wherever possible.

"Yes?" he mumbled against your skin, watching how your thighs shifted against each other. "Tell me what you want," he said as he pulled away from your neck.

"You, I want you," you sighed as your chest rose and fell heavily.

Min Ho's hands drifted to the hem of your trousers, his fingers pulling the zipper down. You held breath as he pulled them down nice and slow.

“Is this, okay?” he questioned, his hand hovering over your clothed pussy. “Y/n?” He said as he looked up and into your eyes.

“Y-yes,” you nodded as he also pulled down your underwear, helping you take completely remove any clothing from your lower half.

Min Ho then stood up and led you around the kitchen and motioned for you to sit at one of the barstools. You wordlessly complied, getting comfortable in your seat just for Min Ho to pull you in. Both literally and mentally, you were on the edge of your seat.

He then placed himself between your legs, his face directly in front of your dripping cunt and your legs over his shoulder. Min began kissing your inner thighs, teasingly getting a bit closer every time.

“I wish I knew sooner how wet I get you,” he smirked before brushing his fingers against your fold. “How badly you wanted me,” he says, beginning to rub your clit gently.

In a repetitive circular motion, his finger worked your pussy. His eyes darkened with lust, watched as your chest rose and shuddered with every breath. Your head thrown back, but he could still hear you heavy breathing and soft moans.

He then pushed a finger through your fold and slowly. You gasped as you felt him slid into your pussy with ease. Min Ho chuckled due to the noises that escaped your lips, provoking him to insert a second finger.

Curving his finger slightly against your walls, your own hands were holding your position steady on the stool. Just then your phone rang, you and Min Ho both froze for a second.

“I think that might be Kitty,” you sighed as Min Ho pulled from you. “Hey,” you say after grabbing your phone and answering the call.

“How’s everything going?” She asks excitedly, unaware of the literal position you were in.

“Everything’s going just fine,” you reply as Min Ho pulled you away from the counter, guiding you to the couch. “What’s up Kitty?” you question.

“Well, I just wanted to know what the status was on the food,” she replied as you watched Min Ho take off his pants and boxers. “We are just setting up a couple more decorations,” she adds, while you both sat down.

It was difficult to focus on the call when the guy who just fingered was stripping down. His toned abs were where your attention was at. Your eyes noticeably widened and focused down south.

“Yeah, we’re a little behind but can definitely get things done in 20-30 minutes?” you guesstimated. “I sort of did forget a few things, so we ordered for them to be delivered,” you lied, Min Ho moving you into a laying down position and your legs in the air.

“Are you okay?” Kitty questioned with worry in her tone, “Your breathing is a little heavy,” she reasons while Min Ho took his position on top of you.

“I’m f-fine,” you tried to assure as he caressed the tip of cock against your folds. “Just a bit peckish,” you add.

“Well did you guys talk it out yet?” She asks, you could visualize the giddy smile on her face.

“Yeah, and you know-“ you began before the phone was taken out of your grasp.

“Now’s not a good time Covey,” Min Ho huffed, tossing his head back to remove his sweat gelled hair back. “I need Y/n-“ he blanked, “-For pot stirring.” He blabbered quickly before hanging up.

“Pot stirring?” You snorted as Min Ho placed your phone on the coffee table.

“What? Did you want me to tell her what were really up?” He asked with a brow lifted.

“No,” you replied, your face turning bright red.

“Better be quick,” he sighed, “Hope you can take it,” he smirked as he finally pushed his cock deep inside your cunt.

With one of your legs over his shoulder, Min Ho began slamming his hips against yours. A rush of cold air hit your chest as Min Ho lifted up your top along with your bra.

You were a moaning mess as Min Ho continuously drilled into your walls. Every thrust becoming rougher and quicker than the previous one.

“So bloody wet for me,” Min Ho smiled smugly, “You can’t even say anything back-too busy taking this dick?” He wondered before slowing down.

“Why’d you stop?” You muttered almost incoherently, being able to lay still.

“Turn around,” he instructed, and you did as you were told. “I just wanna feel you come for me,” he grunted, shoving his cock back in your cunt.

Min ho propped you up against his chest. His hands greedily squeezing your tits. Your hands found their way reaching and gliding through his hair.

“You are so sexy,” Min Ho whispered in your ear. “Your pussy feels so good around me,” he says, placing kisses along your neck.

“Fuck,” you gasp, feeling a knot begin to form in your stomach.

“You’re close huh?” He muttered as you feel his hand trail down to your clit.

Min Ho started rubbing your clit and the blissful feeling that overcame you sent you into overdrive. You moans became increasingly pornographic as he hastened the speed of his hips.

“F-feels too good,” you slurred, “Min Ho-fuck it’s too good,” you said again.

“Well, I’m not gonna stop,” he murmured, looking down and watching your ass bounce on his dick. “Not til you cum,” he huffs.

“Stop,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing around his length, “Oh God,”

“Cum for me,” he said, the speed of his hand and his hips not wavering.

Your body shivered as a wave of ecstasy hit you, but Min Ho didn’t stop. This time, he bent you over and got his dick slamming into your sweet spot.

“Cum with me,” Min Ho huffed, his hands pulling you in repeatedly by the waste

“I c-can’t,” you whined, your vision becoming blurry.

“You pussy squeezing around my cock shows otherwise,” he moans, the clapping sound of your hips echoing through the dorm.

You felt like you were gonna pass out, everything felt too good. The way he kept fucking into you made you begin to shake.

“That’s it,” you hear Min Ho say, your cunt tightly entrapping his length again. “Don’t let me leave this pussy til you cum,”

As if on que, you came once more right as Min Ho pulled out and covered your back in his hot seed. You finally slumped onto the couch, eyes shut and breathing hot.

“I don’t think we’ll never not do that’s,” he chuckled, going to grab a towel.

Gently, Min Ho wiped you down and due to you lack leg function, he helped you put your clothes back on.

He also quickly threw a meal together, enough to cater for everyone meeting for Chuseok. You admired him from the couch, since he insisted you rest while he cooked.

Still shirtless, he prepared everything for the trek back to main campus. Since you were going to have to walk, Min Ho decided to carry everything.

“Where have you guys been?” Q questioned; everyone was already finding their seats.

“Busy whipping up a good meal,” Min Ho replied as he handed off the food to Kitty. “Sit with me?” He asked as he turned to you.

“Of course,” you smiled as you both went to sit with your group of friends.

When everyone was finally seated and Kitty gave a little speech, Min Ho held your hand. Looking over at him, he gave a cheeky grin.

“I’m glad to have spent it with you,” he smiled.

“So sappy,” you joked as Kitty sat across from you before eating the dinner on your plate.

“You guys look like you did more than talked,” she whispered, and your eyes widened.

“And what exactly did they do Ms. Covey?” Lee questioned between bites.

“Made-uh such a delicious meal,” Kitty said quickly. “Chuseok really brings people together,” she laughed forcefully.

“Right,” Professor Lee muttered.

JAN 2025

#xo kitty #minho fanfic #minho moon smut #minho moon x reader #minho oneshot #to all the boys i've loved before #min ho moon #min ho x reader #tatbilb

499 notes · View notes

theawkwardanglophile · 10 months ago

Text

Tim's face journey in this scene is exquisite. I'll never be over it. He needed to hear those words from her so badly.

↠ Tim & Lucy ↳ 2x17 • Control

#chenford #the rookie #tim x lucy #face journey #chef's kiss

191 notes · View notes

palmersluvr · 30 days ago

Note

now we need a pt3 of the in person reunion that was tew good😮‍💨

cherry

summary: luigi comes home after a week long work trip, and the two of you spend time reuniting.

warnings: smut, sex (multiple positions) head (both receive) breeding, kissing

notes: this is part 3 of my weak for you series, you can read part 1 and part 2 before you read this one or you can read it as a standalone :)

* ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the house hums with stillness, broken only by the faint buzz of the tv. you’re curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath a frayed, mustard blanket. the screen flickers with a cooking show, chefs darting between sizzling pans, knives flashing under harsh lights but it’s just a blur, white noise against the electric anticipation thrumming in your veins. luigi’s due back today from his week long work trip, and the wait has you full of adrenaline.

his last text, boarding now, i love you, see you soon burned into your phone hours ago, and you’ve been piecing together his journey in your mind: the plane descending, wheels skidding on tarmac, him grabbing his bag from the overhead bin. your home feels empty without him, each corner echoing his absence, something thats clung to you all week. you ache for his warmth, the way he’d sprawl across this couch, one socked foot nudging yours, chuckling at your obsession with bad tv, his hand resting heavy on your shoulder.

then, you hear a faint jingle… keys at the door. your heart rate raises, but you stay put, gripping the remote. the door swings open, and there’s luigi, travel worn, jacket draped over his arm, backpack hanging loose. his eyes lock on yours, and that grin sparks, tired but bright, like it’s been waiting just for this.

“hey you.” he says, voice gravelly, and before you can move, he’s crossing the room, bag hitting the floor with a thud. he’s on the couch in a heartbeat, practically pouncing on you, his weight pinning you against the cushions. he pulls you close, all leather and airplane air, his arms a solid, familiar cage. “god, i missed you…” he mumbles, lips brushing your temple, and the house feels full again, the week’s emptiness gone in a single, messy tackle.

your fingers grip his jacket, pulling him closer. his lips find yours, urgent, warm, tasting of coffee and travel. you kiss back fiercely, hands in his hair, his groan vibrating against you. his hand cups your face, deepening the kiss, hungry yet tender, the world shrinking to just this messy, perfect, whole again.

you ease back to breathe, foreheads touching, luigi’s gaze heavy and fixed on you. “missed you so much…” you whisper, voice trembling with relief, fingertips grazing the scruff on his jaw. he flashes a half-smile, lips grazing yours teasingly.

“relax… i was always gonna come back home.” he says with a smile, voice rough, before kissing you slower, savoring every second.

“but don’t you fucking dare leave me for that long again.” you murmur into his mouth, tugging his curls playfully, luigi’s chuckle is soft, warm, and he kisses you again, slow and deep, hands settling on your hips, grounding you as the couch shifts. “staying right here.” he vows between kisses, and you feel it in his touch, the home he brings, as you melt into him.

your hands glide down his chest, grazing the worn leather of his jacket before reaching the cool metal of his belt buckle. you tug, the soft clink piercing the silence, and he leans back slightly, eyes sparking with surprise and hunger.

“awww, my baby’s in a hurry,” he teases, voice rough, his breath warm against your cheek. you smirk, swiftly undoing the buckle, the leather slipping free.

“you’ve got a whole week to answer for.” you murmur, voice low, tossing the belt aside. your fingers move to his jeans, deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them, sliding the denim down his hips. his breath catches, hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as the couch creaks beneath you, the tension between you crackling, sharp and alive.

your hands linger at his waistband, slipping beneath the elastic of his calvin kleins with a slow, deliberate touch. you ease the fabric down, freeing his soft cock, the warmth of his skin brushing against your fingers. luigi’s eyes flicker with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability, a quiet hitch in his breath as he watches you.

“still soft?” you ask, voice soft but edged with want, your fingers grazing lightly, teasingly, as you hold his gaze. his hands flex, a low hum escaping him, the air thick with the unspoken promise of what’s next.

“not for long.” he murmurs.

you lean in, lips brushing luigi’s soft length, leaving faint lipstick marks with each kiss. you keep kissing, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving his, each press painting another red smudge. his breath stumbles, a quiet groan slipping out as he shifts, hands tightening.

“fuck, you’re so hot.” he mutters, voice rough, the sight of your lipstick stains on him increasing his need. you smirk, maintaining eye contact, the couch creaking as you lean closer, the heat between you blazing.

you part your lips, taking his softness into your mouth, warm and careful, eyes still fixed on his. he whimpers, a sharp sound as you feel him harden, growing firm against your tongue. a deep, shaky moan escapes him, his hands gripping you tighter, fingers digging in as he struggles to keep steady.

“shit…” luigi groans, voice raw, the sensation overwhelming. “wait, baby… can i fuck your face?”

you pause, slowly easing him out of your mouth, lips brushing against him one last time as you meet his heated gaze. a sly smile curves your lips. “please do.” you say, voice low and teasing, the word dripping with promise.

you shift, reaching for the small bottle of throat numbing spray on the side table, grabbing it with a quick glance back at him. his eyes darken, a hungry edge to his stare as he watches you. you spritz the spray, the cool mist settling in your throat, and toss the bottle aside, leaning back toward him.

“ready when you are,” you murmur, voice steady, inviting, as you position yourself, hands resting on his thighs.

luigi’s gaze is primal, a low groan escaping as he leans closer, his strong hands seizing your head with possessive intent. “you’re fucking unreal,” he growls, voice dripping with lust. he guides his throbbing cock to your lips, and you part them eagerly, taking him in, wet and warm.

he starts with shallow thrusts, teasing your mouth, but the feral glint in his eyes and the tightening of his fists in your hair betray his barely leashed hunger. you relax your throat, fingers digging into his tensed thighs, urging him on with a throaty moan. his hips snap faster, driving deeper, fucking your face with a relentless, greedy rhythm.

your tongue flicks and curls around luigi’s length with every movement, savoring the hot, salty taste of his arousal as you tighten your lips, sucking greedily to match his ruthless rhythm. his breaths are jagged, his sculpted abs tensing with each forceful snap of his hips. “so good… i love you so much,” he growls, voice raw with desperation, his hands clamping tighter in your hair, yanking you closer to take him even deeper.

the sloppy, lewd sounds of your mouth devouring him echo throughout the room, blending with the couch’s protests and his deep, primal grunts. your nails dig into his taut thighs, spurring him on, begging him to lose himself in the haze. his thrusts turn sharper, more frenzied, his cock throbbing against your tongue, but he reins himself in, muscles flexing with the strain of holding back.

but he suddenly halts, chest heaving, another groan tearing from his throat. he pulls back, eyes burning with desire, and rasps, “shit, i gotta stop… i wanna taste you.” his grip loosens, but the feral edge in his voice promises the fire’s only just begun.

luigi’s hands, still shaking with raw desire, glide to your thighs as he drops to his knees in front of you. his firm fingers part your thighs wide with a steady, commanding touch, revealing you completely to his intense, hungry stare.

your skin prickles under his gaze, and he leans forward, trailing slow, deliberate kisses up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. each press of his lips is hot, taunting, inching higher, igniting sparks across your body.

“i love your body baby, so pretty,” he murmurs against your skin, voice deep and worshipful, his eyes lifting to lock with yours, brimming with lust and reverence. “i always get sad when i see you in front of the mirror judging yourself, your body is my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”

his words crash over you, setting your face ablaze, your pulse hammering as you squirm under his grip, flustered and caught off guard. “stop it…” you mumble, voice trembling, a shy giggle slipping out as you try to mask the dizzying warmth his praise sends coursing through you. his lips quirk into a devilish grin, and he kisses closer to your core.

luigi’s fingers slip beneath the edge of your panties, and with a deliberate, teasing pull, he drags them aside, revealing your slick, throbbing core to the air and his hungry stare. “shit,” he murmurs, voice heavy with want, his gaze darkening as he drinks you in. he dives in without pause, his mouth crashing onto your soaked folds, tongue plunging deep with a ravenous groan.

his lips and tongue consume you, sucking your clit firmly before circling it with precise, relentless flicks. his hands grip your thighs, holding them open, fingers digging into your flesh as he dives deeper, tongue fucking you with messy, insatiable strokes. your hips buck, overwhelmed by his intensity, but he keeps you pinned, deep growls vibrating against your core, driving you wild.

his skill is devastating, every lick of his tongue a perfect hit as he takes you apart with dead on aim. he switches between slow, teasing swipes and fast, playful flicks, breaking you down with every dirty move. he knows when to hold back, lingering with soft, sucking kisses that light you up, and when to go hard, diving deep with a beat that leaves you gasping.

you’re moaning like a whore, your hands clutch his head, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you burn for more. “lu, oh my god!’” you sob, voice shaking with raw desire. his growl vibrates against you, making you squirm on the couch.

“don’t stop,” you pant, hips chasing his ruthless tongue. but he ignores you, lifting his head, eyes dark and hungry. “i wanna fuck you,” he moans, voice low and rough, sending a fresh jolt through you.

your moans catch in your throat, body still buzzing as he shifts, sliding onto the couch beside you. his hands, strong and urgent, grab your waist, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. you straddle him, heart pounding, as his fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you against him.

he leans in, lips crashing into yours, kissing you hard and messy, all heat and hunger. his tongue dives into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you, while your hands grip his shoulders, still trembling from the edge he left you on. the kiss deepens, raw and desperate, his low groans mixing with your shaky breaths as you melt into him, ready for whatever he gives you next.

the kiss is all fire, luigi’s lips devouring yours with a hunger that makes your head spin. you break the kiss just long enough to grab the hem of your baggy t shirt, yanking it over your head in one swift move, tossing it aside to reveal your bare breasts. his eyes darken, raking over you with a look that sends heat pooling in your core.

“fuck,” he mutters, voice rough, before he follows suit, peeling his shirt off and flinging it away. his chest is broad, skin warm and taut under your hands as you press against him, feeling the heat radiating between you. your fingers trace his shoulders, needy and restless, as his hands slide up your back, pulling you into another searing kiss, lips and tongues clashing with raw, desperate want.

then, out of nowhere, luigi moves, and with one hard, purposeful thrust, he thrusts up, slamming his thick cock deep into you, stretching your soaked cunt so wide it steals your breath.

“fuck!” you gasp, voice cracking, your walls gripping him like a vice as the intense fullness hits like a tidal wave. his low, primal groan vibrates through you, hips twitching to let you feel every throbbing inch. your fingers sink into his shoulders, nails cutting in as you move together.

luigi’s relentless thrusts don’t falter, his thick cock slamming up into you with merciless force, each brutal pump stretching your dripping pussy to its limit. your broken moans spill out, high and desperate, as your body jolts with every savage snap of his hips, tits bouncing wildly under his hungry gaze.

you’re moaning his name like a prayer, your voice a wrecked mess, your mind blanked by the overwhelming pleasure pain of being fucked dumb. his fingers dig deeper into your hips, leaving marks as he whines, sound vibrating through you like a primal claim.

his cock hammers into you with ruthless power, each thrust nailing that perfect spot, making your body shudder and your cries sharper, barely coherent. soaked in sweat and trembling, you’re consumed by him, your nails ripping his shoulders to shreds. then, through heavy breaths, his voice breaks through, rough and intense.

“all i thought about while i was away, was coming home to fuck you like this.” he snarls, eyes locked on yours as his hips pound harder, every word driven home by a thrust. “can never get enough of you, of your sexy body.”

the confession sets you on fire, and he groans, diving deeper, the frenzied rhythm dragging you both toward total annihilation.

your head falls back, a guttural scream ripping from your lips as your cunt grips him, drowning in the savage pleasure.

“lu, god, i was practically dying without you,” you whimper, voice breaking with raw desire, your hips grinding down to meet his relentless upward thrusts. “i needed you… fuck, i needed this.”

your words tumble out, needy and unfiltered, as your pussy throbs around him, each powerful thrust shoving you toward the brink. “please, don’t stop! fuck me harder!” you sob, nails sinking deeper into his shoulders, spurring him on as your body writhes against him.

luigi suddenly pulls out, leaving you gasping at the aching emptiness. before you can plead, his hands seize your hips with bruising force, flipping you onto the couch in one swift, rough motion. you land on your back, legs falling open as he looms over you, all raw heat and need.

he grabs your thighs, hoisting them up and pinning them toward your chest, locking you beneath him. with one brutal thrust, he buries his thick cock back inside your dripping pussy, the angle making every inch hit harder, deeper.

“fucking missed this pussy, god, fuck-“ he rasps, voice dripping with lust as he slams into you, each relentless thrust pressing you into the cushions. your screams turn to broken wails, body trembling under his weight as the ferocious pace and overwhelming penetration rocket you toward a shattering climax, his hips never slowing in their primal claim.

your nails claw at his back, leaving red streaks as you writhe against him, barely matching his savage rhythm. “lu, shit, i’m gonna come!” you wail, voice fractured and frantic, your pussy gripping his thick cock tighter with every punishing plunge.

his eyes burn with lust, a hungry grin spreading as he leans in, moaning low against your ear. “oh yeah baby, fuck, give it to me, come around my cock-” he groans, voice gritty with want, the sound igniting you further. he shifts his hips, slamming into that perfect spot with deadly precision, and your world collapses as your body seizes, a blinding rush of pleasure shredding through you.

you scream luigi’s name, practically convulsing beneath him, your pussy pulsing wildly as your orgasm rips through you, a gush of slick, hot wetness flooding from your core, coating his cock and dripping onto the couch. his moans deepen, raw and unrestrained, his thrusts growing erratic, chasing his own peak as you tremble in the aftershocks, your soaked thighs quivering against him.

his hips keep slamming into you, relentless, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room as he rides the high of your climax. his hands grip your thighs tighter, keeping you pinned beneath him, and his eyes lock onto yours, dark with lust. “fuck, i’m gonna cum inside you,” he groans, voice rough and urgent, his thrusts growing harder, deeper. “you want that, baby? want me to knock you up? huh?”

“yes, fuck yes! you moan, voice high and desperate.

“i want your baby lu, fuck, please cum in me!” the words spill out, raw and needy, as you writhe beneath him, urging him on.

his eyes go dark, his thrusts instantly faltering as your words hit him hard. his hips slam into you one last time, the wet, filthy smack of skin against your soaked pussy ringing out. “fuck baby, take it.” he moans, voice ragged, his cock throbbing inside your pulsing walls.

he buries himself deep, a choked groan escaping as he cums, hot, thick ropes of his seed flooding your pussy, filling you so full it seeps out around his shaft, mixing with your slick and dripping onto the couch. your body shakes, pussy clamping tight to milk every drop as you whine his name, the scorching rush of his release sending you into another trembling wave of ecstasy. he stays deep inside, panting, hands gripping you possessively, as the raw intensity leaves you both wrecked.

after a moment, he slowly pulls out, his softening cock slipping free with a wet sound, a trail of his thick cum and your slick leaking from your stretched pussy, pooling beneath you on the couch. he sits back, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the mess between your thighs with a mix of awe and pride. “oh baby,” he says, voice low and rough, a smirk tugging at his lips. “there’s no way you’re not pregnant right now.”

his eyes linger on the creamy trail leaking from you, and with a hungry spark, he leans in. he runs his fingers through the warm, slick blend of his release and your essence gathered on the couch, collecting the intimate mixture.

“can’t let this go to waste.” he says, voice low and rough, as he brings his coated fingers to your pulsing core. slowly, purposefully, he presses the gathered fluid back inside you, his fingers gliding effortlessly into your sensitive entrance. you gasp, your body quivering at the sensation, your core tightening around his fingers as he pushes the thick mixture deeper, ensuring it stays within you. “gotta make sure it stays.” he says with a smirk, eyes locked on yours as he withdraws his fingers, leaving you trembling, filled, and completely his.

luigi’s smirk softens into a tender smile as he reaches for you, his strong hands gently pulling you onto his lap. your body, still trembling from the intensity, melts against his warm chest as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

the heat of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat ground you, a comforting contrast to the lingering sensitivity between your thighs. he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch careful and reverent, then presses a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“i really hope you’re pregnant…” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and earnest, filled with a quiet longing that makes your heart flutter. “i wanna start a family with you.”

you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a small, teasing smile, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “we’ll see in a few weeks.” you reply softly, your voice a mix of anticipation and playful uncertainty.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

:,) 💞💞💞

previous work | masterlist

#luigi mangione smut #luigi thoughts #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione fanfiction #palmersluvr #palmersluvr works

172 notes · View notes

flyingwargle · 6 months ago

Text

november fanfic recs!

we're almost at the end of the year, but there's always fanfic to be read! check out previous months' recs: october, september, august, july

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

can we always be this close (forever and ever?) g. 3.1k. sakusa approaches osamu to ask for his ring size because he plans to propose to atsumu. osamu instead interrogates him to see if he's ready to be with atsumu forever, while suna watches. very endearing with the best ending ever.

The Wisdom Tooth Incident™ g. 4.8k. atsumu gets his wisdom tooth removed and forgets about sakusa in his post-anesthetic haze. i will never tire of this trope. you can pry it from my cold, dead hands.

city of millions t. 7.2k. mostly sakusa-centric and background sakuatsu. a beautiful love letter to sakusa's early years of university, his friendship with akaashi, and learning to reconnect with things that he left in the past (things being miya atsumu).

lingua franca m. 9.1k. sakusa learns about the different love languages through his life and finally finds someone who has the same love language as him.

itadakimasu t. 10.9k. pro athlete sakusa puts out an ad for someone to cook him meals, and aspiring chef atsumu answers his call. a slow but beautiful partnership that leads to love.

double lift e. 12.8k. 3/3. accidentally been reading a lot of winterwaltz6's works this month huh (they're all very good though). this one is the intimacy of sakusa helping atsumu re-dye his hair after he's been on the bench due to a knee injury. very soft and warm <3

halfway to sunrise e. 12.9k. atsumu offhandedly tells sakusa that he can sleep with him and sakusa takes him up on it. fwb to lovers.

hustle for that muscle e. 13.8k. atsumu and suna make a bet on who can get an underwear ad first, and the loser has to ask their respective crush out. atsumu loses, hence the hilarious attempt to ask sakusa out, which leads to eventually trying to sleep with him.

anchor m. 21.3k. atsumu helps sakusa through his panic attack and sakusa reciprocates in turn. augh, the emotional damage this caused, but the fluff made up for it. beautiful writing and discussions of mental health.

take two e. 23k. 3/3. sakusa reconnects with his ex, atsumu, after finding him on an adult site, and maybe, just maybe, they'll rekindle their relationship. the prose was full of so much pining and love.

A Thousand Cuts t. 37.9k. 3/3. this is the perfect study of misunderstandings, miscommunication and unrequited love. absolutely heartbreaking with gripping prose.

hand study e. 84.4k. 7/7. atsumu injures sakusa's hand and becomes his personal helper while he heals, with benefits. fwb to lovers with a healthy dose of angst but has a happy ending.

Lessons in Falling e. 87.2k. 6/6. sakusa resists from falling in love with atsumu because he believes his family is cursed with falling out of love and dysfunctional relationships. atsumu is so tooth-rottingly sweet and patient while waiting for sakusa to make peace with his family. gripping prose and tension. one of my favorites <3

iwaoi

thrilled by the still of your hand t. 2.6k. iwa and bokuto arm wrestle. that's it, that's the fic. and oikawa kisses iwa but that comes later.

tattoo your name across my heart g. 5.4k. iwa drunkenly gets oikawa's name tattooed on his arm. SO CUTE. SO FLUFFY. augh my heart, they love each other so much.

Even here, there is light t. 11.4k. single dad oikawa finding love in iwa. oikawa's son is so lovely in this, along with their love.

come get me, come love me m. 20.7k. oikawa is invited to a wedding upon his return to japan and comes face to face with his ex, iwa, after several years. a lovely, lovely fic of coming back together <3

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run) m. 27.6k. oikawa's knee isn't healing the way it's supposed to be, thus a long journey of getting surgery and enduring the rehab that follows. iwa is with him every step of the way.

bokuaka

and i have never felt so bright t. 16.5k. 5 times akaashi told himself not to be selfish in life and 1 time he decided to. the 2nd chapter blew me away with the domestic details and eventual getting together. such a sweet fic.

down, boy e. 87.8k. 15/15. think of sakuatsu's terminal curiosity but bokuaka. that's all i can really say without being too detailed, other than it's slow burn with a lot of spice.

sunaosa

check out all the wonderful works from the sunaosa autumn gift exchange that were revealed in november! there's lots to read and fanart to see <3

the universe called and said we're soulmates t. 3.8k. suna starts dreaming of his relationship with osamu in different universes. so sweet and beautiful!

two drinks t. 4k. suna falls head over heels with the barista to the point that he orders coffee every time he sees him. except he doesn't like coffee. absolutely hilarious!

moonlight e. 5.5k. emotional spice featuring suna having low self-esteem and osamu wanting to show him that he's loved. beautiful, with so much affection from osamu to suna.

stop me if you’ve heard this one before… g. 6.4k. osamu is a dumbass and keeps forgetting about relationship milestones and suna just finds it amusing. find yourself a partner that finds your forgetfulness endearing like suna, seriously.

god in jeans t. 22.4k. atsumu accidentally kicks a god's shrine and ends up indebted to them - i.e. suna. outsider pov watching suna and osamu fall in love despite suna's god status, with a healthy amount of angst and an eventual happy ending.

drowning in gravity m. 24.1k. exes to fwb to lovers. suna being emotionally constipated, osamu being patient but also impatient...combine all that together and you get angst with a happy ending.

other

And flowers bloom in his wake g. 10.6k. kurodai. modern magic au where everyone has a unique ability and daichi's ability is that flowers grow where he walks and kuroo makes it his personal mission to protect those flowers (and fall in love in the process).

know what a river can be g. 13.6k. oikawa-centric. a character study of oikawa's time overseas to pursue his volleyball career with bodies of water as the main motif. beautiful prose with an uplifting ending.

Point Break t. 18.3k. daisuga. the karasuno 3rd years undergo the most ridiculous heist of all time. HILARIOUS. so cute and endearing as well, and so, so dumb. on-point prose, pining, and getting together. one of my favorites this month <3

heaven's here, it's right where you're standing t. 47.2k. 8/8. kuroken. kenma, a cancer survivor, moves to a small seaside town for a change of pace and meets kuroo, the local science teacher and volleyball coach. slowburn romance with perhaps one of the best twists that i have ever read.

Making a Home g. 106.3k. 27/27. arankita. kita is a foster parent whose license is about to expire when he's given the miya twins to foster, after they've been passed from one abusive household to the next. a beautiful story of found family and love.

249 notes · View notes

cuteandhughesy · 6 months ago

Text

Us. | William Nylander

summary: you work as one of the assistant chefs for the toronto maple leafs organization, often taking charge and helping with team buffets and meetings. your job is hectic and crazy and you wouldn’t give it up for the world. william nylander can relate, and his role on the toronto maple leafs is his top priority. when the two of you end up falling for one another - and being pushed away from each other, the job becomes more complicated.

[word count] 5.5k

a/n: based off this request! I went a little off topic with the plot, but the general idea is very much inspired by the anon request! this fic moves between past and present timelines, so if the paragraphs are in italics, it is my way of writing in the past! I hope you all enjoy :)

🎵us. by gracie abrams (feat. taylor swift)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

when you applied to culinary school, you never thought your journey would lead you to your current position. of course when studying to be a professional cook you are aiming to work in the field, no matter the level of hierarchy you end up at - but you never thought you'd get this lucky.

at just 23 years old and 5 months fresh out of culinary school, you were hired to work as one of the assistant chefs for the toronto maple leafs culinary team. getting hired at such a prestigious job at your age was very uncommon, and when you'd gotten the classic you're hired phone call, you initially thought it was your younger brother trying to play a prank on you.

news flash it wasn't your brother and now you're 3 months past your first day on the job.

throughout the first few weeks of your job, you were understandably nervous. your head chef had 30 years of experience, you were cooking for athletes with very strict and varying diets, and you were new. thankfully that very first week, the leafs were on the road, so you had time to train and meal prep in a somewhat relaxed environment.

you spent more time with the players than you were expecting to, which although was surreal was also very nerve wracking, and you were scared one of them wouldn't like the way you scrambled eggs and throw them back in your face. when damien - your head chef - assigned you to work the buffets for team meals, that egg fear became even more intense.

but you were pleasantly suprised with how nice everyone was. you had heard rumors about professional athletes and how they were rude and ignorant, angry if they didn't get their way, but the toronto maple leafs players were just the opposite. sure, some of them were quiet and particular about food, but they are just professional athletes who want to preform their best at any means necessary - you didn’t take offence to that.

in the 3 months you had been organizing and running team meals, you've learned a lot about the players. you've noticed that jake mccabe never fails to tell you a dad joke when he sees you, and how mitch marner always complains about being full but never fails to come up for seconds. you notice how joseph woll is always the last player to serve himself, and how david kampf, no matter how he feels, always smiles and uses manners with him.

but who's habits you've really noticed over the course of your time as an assistant chef is william nylander's. in fact, it's not just his habits that you see, but it's everything else too. the way at breakfast he always struggles between choosing sausage or bacon, and how he's never shy about asking for food he doesn't see on the table - which at first had you taken back, but now it's something you look forward to.

you stand behind the buffet table with ridged shoulders. your eyes are moving over everything at a rather frantic pace. it's your first time on the buffet table and to say you were nervous was an understatement. not only was this the first time you would be seeing the mouths you were cooking for, but it was one of your first shifts out of training.

as players slowly filtered through the doors of the dining room and gathered their serving of breakfast food, you've been consistently on edge. you were constantly checking that everything look presentable and that it was all stocked.

"do I feel like sausages or bacon?"

the question has you snapping out of the frantic organizational process going on in your head. you look up to see a tall, blonde and presumably hockey player. even though you've lived in the city you whole life, you’ve never followed sports. sure you know famous athletes names from the press, but you'd never be able to put a name to one's face.

you blink, "sorry?"

finally the man in question looks away from the meat options and you're immediately taken back. he's very handsome - a mature handsome that has you feeling petite and giddy.

the corner of his lip quirks up. "I don't know if I want bacon or sausage, so I was thinking out loud."

you blush, "oh, i'm sorry. I thought you were talking to me."

"I think i'm feeling bacon." he shrugs, but he makes no move to plate the food, his eyes still on you. "unless you think I should go with sausage."

you lick your lip, moistening the rather dry skin. "well I always think if you're second guessing your first choice, maybe the second choice is the one you're truly needing."

the blond hums thoughtfully, "that's smart." with that he grabs three round breakfast sausages and loads them onto his plate. the remaining sausages slide down from the loss of the ones he took, and your itching to reach for the tongues and adjust them again.

"you must be new."

you exhale shakily, "is it that obvious?"

he shrugs again, a smile still on his round face. he moves onto the eggs, using the tongues to grab some of the over easy style and adds them to his plate. "i'm william."

"y/n." you nod professionally and politely. "i'm the new assistant chef and the new director of the dining hall and menus."

"so, y/n, you're saying this isn't the only team ill see you?" william is now moved onto the display of fresh cut fruits, and he's taking a dent sized amount of orange slices. you'd think his question was one stemmed from disappointment if it wasn't for william's playful smile and the twinkle in his eyes.

you find yourself smiling as well. "no it's not."

"good."

since that very first meeting between you both, you and william found yourself in this dance of sorts, where the two of you would move around one another in ways to complete the other. you and william just worked.

once you were aware of william's lighthearted, carefree personality, you embraced his teasing remarks and sultry smirks. you'd look forward to taking his orders and serving his food, and he look forward to you as well.

william was instantly attracted and impressed by your work ethic and skills, especially at your age. he had seen chefs in this organization who took years before reaching your levels, and he couldn't help but grow enamoured for you.

what started as friendly banter and conversation slowly evolved into something more flirtatious- intimate.

william would make a point to wait around after meals to walk you out to your car, just so he could chat to you and watch you flush under his teasing words and gaze. he would always spend too much time chatting with you at the buffet table and then have to scarf his food down because time was limited afterwards. william would text you all day; compliments on your food and looks, funny tweets he'd think you'd enjoy, invitations for movie nights, simple small talk and questions.

it didn't take long for that to progress and 2 and a half months into your job, you and william were practically dating.

you never properly discussed labels, but neither you and william harped over it. you were both happy with the right now of it all.

you both decided to keep your relationship separate from your work life. nobody needed to know what was happening between you both, and you were very adamant about that. you didn't want anyone, player or staff member, to treat you differently because you were with william, and he wanted the same.

but it was hard to try and ignore william - it was and always has been. you'd find yourselves locked in knowing stares with one another, and you couldn’t help yourselves from standing suspiciously close while trying to keep your voices hushed and inconspicuous. the accidental not-so-accidental brushing of limbs, sneaky smiles and even occasionally sneaking off to unoccupied rooms to be alone. you and william weren't doing the best at showing restraint and being secretive.

so although neither of flat out told anybody apart of the leafs organization about your blooming relationship, it didn't take much to figure out something was happening between you.

you walk through the training hallways with a determined step. you've finally gotten the menu submission you'd been hounding william for (at work and after) and when he dropped it off to you this morning, you thought you could finally rest and get to work - but no.

he was trying to be funny. instead of properly filling out the required form for the kitchen, he'd chosen to write either ridiculous answers like he preferred ketchup flavoured fruits or overly sexual things like he preferred you for dessert.

with the original forms in hand as well as a brand new set for him to fill out (correctly this time) you continue to weave through training staff as you walk through the athletic department of the arena. you knew that william was in the gym right now, just like he told you when he sneakily kissed you goodbye after giving you his forms this morning.

you should've known something was up when last night william asked if anybody would be seeing the menu submissions besides you, and when you said that it was only for you, his smirk grew.

you enter the open doors of the physical therapy room when you caught sight of his familiar thick head of blonde hair.

you approach william with determination.

a couple of the guys around notice you and they make snickering noises like little school boys do when a classmate gets called down to the office. the sound has william looking up just as you reach him, his conversation with liligren and jarnkrok coming to a stop.

"I need you to fill out a new form." you hand him the blank papers quickly.

williams smirk grows ridiculously large. "why? what's wrong with my other one?"

you sigh, "can you just do it babe-" you cut yourself off as a horrified look takes over your face. williams eyes widen, but he looks rather enamoured with your slip up and that has you feeling even more horrified. "william. I mean william."

jarnkrok and liligren both snicker knowingly, and calle even pats william's back in a congratulatory manner as the two swedes walk away from you.

william takes the empty menu submission form from your hand. "I'll fill this out."

you exhale shakily, "much appreciated."

he eyes you, "even though I think the real reason is because you want to frame the original one in your apartment." william's iconic laugh follows suit, and you find yourself hiding your face behind the inappropriate forms.

calling william babe wasn't even the most damaging slip up that williams teammates had caught you to in, and there were many close calls of almost being caught doing undeniable acts.

"willy," you sigh heavily, basking in the feeling of his calloused, large hands running over ass. "we should stop"

he hums against your neck, not once detaching his lips from there attack on your neck. clearly william has no interest in stopping the exchange between you and to further his point he rolls his clothed crotch against yours once again.

once william found out you were still at the rink after the team finished up with practice, he had practically dragged you away from food prepping and into the first available spare room.

it ended being the staff room, which was definitely a risky spot, but that didn't stop william from sitting you on the lunch table and immediately begin kissing you with need.

after a good 3 minutes of hot and heavy making out, you managed to reluctantly detach your mouths. but that didn't stop william from moving further down your body with his lips - the sucking against your neck a reminder of just that.

"somebody could walk in." you remind him.

"I know." he pants, pulling away and finally ending the assault on your neck in favour of meeting your eyes. you're both flushed and breathless, but the knowing smirks don't disappear off either of your faces.

"I need to get back to work." you slip off the table, brushing his erection through his pants as you do so. william groans out - a combination of uncomfortable and pleasure, his dick twitching in his pants.

you giggle, adjusting your crumpled apron.

just as you do, the door swings open and a confused looking auston matthews enters. once he spots willaim his shoulders relax, "dude i've texted you three times - you're my ride today remember?"

then the scene infront of him clicks, and auston is immediately smirking. the sight of your messy hair and plump lips combined with william's red cheeks and akward hand placement, he knows everything.

"yeah, right. sorry man I was just helping y/n/n with something."

"yeah, for sure."

when auston turns away to leave the room, william following behind him slowly, you make sure to whack william on the arm as he walks by.

all he can do is laugh.

for those weeks of constantly spending time with one another and basking in the honeymoon phase you two so desperately loved, was something that you cherished.

but a week ago, something changed.

it started when one of your closests friends, jenna, had come down from out east to visit. you had obviously told her about the situation with william, and how you two were thriving together in your secret relationship.

"wait," jenna's eyebrows pull together in confusion and her hands shoots out in your direction as if to halt your story. "why are you keeping it a secret."

you shrug, "because of work. we don't want it to complicate anything."

"what would it complicate?"

you open your mouth to speak, but no noise comes out. when you try and think of a reason why your and williams situation has been hush hush, you can't find one that actually makes sense.

jenna continues, her tone gentle. "I love you and i'm so glad you're happy, but I think you should have a conversation with william. it doesn't make sense to me why you guys wouldn't tell anybody about this thing going on, as well as why you haven't put labels on it yet."

your shoulders deflate. you can't help but feel insecure and unsure now about your relationship with william. was he embarrassed of the age gap between you and didn't want his teammates to get on him about your immaturity? did william not want to sacrifice his job with the leafs by putting a label on you? was he worried he'd get in trouble or traded if he was caught with somebody so young who worked for the leaf organization? was he worried about the fans dissecting a relationship between you both and calling him out for dating you?

was your relationship doomed from the start and eventually meant to crumble.

when you started to really think about it, you get plunged into a deep, dark hole of guilt and regret and fear all sourced from your and william's relationship and the secrecy that came with it.

because what if william didn't want a girlfriend out of you because of your age and inexperience with life and he was only looking for a physical partner temporarily.

so your next day at work when william tried to flirt with you while you plated the various salads at the grab table, you didn't give him any eye contact and mumbled some excuse about being really busy.

willy was confused of course, but he brushed off your dismissal. he believed when you said you were busy, and he knows how important your job is to you and he didn't want to disturb you while you're working - but the next day it was the same thing. you were practically ignoring him and when william did come up and try and start your usual fun conversations, you were short with him.

after a few days of the same unbothered demeanour from you, william gave up on trying to crack you. he was clueless on what shifted between you, especially when you won't tell him, so he has no choice but to believe you are no longer interested in him.

and that hurt, so instead of acting like a grown adult and trying to find a solution to this mystery problem, william pretended that he was unaffected by your sudden absence.

——

morgan rielly must be able to sense your shift of energy, and instead of bringing up his favourite taylor swift song of the week (which is obviously a weekly discussion between you two), he only sends you a closed mouth smile as he plates up his meal.

it makes you frown, because you think william must've mentioned something to someone on the team, that now has the once interactive, bubbly roster acting tame and quiet around you.

you almost say something to morgan about his change and plead for him to talk about your favourite blonde musician, but you let him go.

this is what you didn't want to happen. the awkwardness and always having to step around eggshells because of your relationship with william (or currently, lack there of) was something you never wanted for you, william or anybody in the organization.

you never wanted to end up feeling so lost and out of place at work and when it came to william. you can understand your way of dealing with your insecurities wasn't ideal, but you can't help but to shut down when something doesn't feel right - you've always been that way.

but william wasn't helping in any way. not that it was his fault, you can understand that. but you can't understand why he now seems to be showing absolutely no interest in you or why he’s stopped trying.

and you know you should've had a conversation like jenna suggested and figured out the labels and deeper meanings of the relationship you and william have - or had. but you weren’t thinking of having a talk when you were spiralling.

you needed and wanted william to pull you out of that state and reassure, not act like he doesn’t know who you are anymore.

your thoughts are halted as out of the corner of your eye the movement of matthew knies catches your attention. the rookie sends you his usual smile, seemingly unaware of the thick tension weaving throughout the dining area. like usual, matthew loads his plate with mini hash browns, and the normalcy of it all has you laughing.

he looks up at you, a smile widening across his attractive face. amused and seemingly pleased, matthew moves to plate himself up some scrambled eggs, although he doesn't take much because he claims that eggs taste like shit. thankfully, you convinced him to at least take a spoonful at every breakfast.

"I didn't think I'd get to see you smile today. you've been a little off for a few days....are you okay?" matthew's eyes flicker between you and the fruit platter, eyeing your exhausted features.

you're momentarily taken back, blinking quickly to try and see if you're hallucinating what's happening right in front of you. but matthew is very much there and asking you that question. you clear your throat, "i'll be fine, thank you, matthew."

"good," matthew smiles before taking a gigantic bite of some plain toast, crumbs falling over his team branded hoodie. he doesn't seem to mind the mess and he wipes away any lingering toast from his face with the back of his free hand. his warm smile has yet to fade, and you find yourself joining him. matthew continues, "you look so pretty when you smile - I've been missing it these pass few days."

he walks away then, leaving you a flustered and shocked messed at the expense of his flirtatious compliments. you're taken back momentarily, and you're left staring at the spot matthew was just standing in, going over the mini exchange in your head.

you briefly wonder if matthew has always been flirtatious with you, but you'd been too previously distracted with william to notice.

matthew is your age and attractive and still new to the whole sports lifestyle just like you are. maybe matthew was better match for you and trying to build a strong relationship with him was more realistic than it ever was with william.

the warmth of william nose running along your cheek is comforting. the tickling, soothing movement is almost lulling you into a sleep and your eyelids feel heavy as you blink lazily.

against you, william shifts. he shuffles upwards on your mattress, and the soft rustling sound of your crisp sheets follow suit.

your head lolls towards him against your fully pillow and you're met with william's blue eyes twinkling back at you. he's leaning on his palm as his elbow supports his body weight. his hair is still tousled from your hands running through his locks during your previous activities and william also looks a little sleepy.

his flushed cheeks are surely a reflection of yours, and his chest hair is still dampened with sweat - sticking flat against his hard pecks.

"what?" you questions gently, eyeing his sleepy smirk. you turn onto your side and tuck yourself against him. the angle is a little awkward, but you still manage to connect and you wrap your arms around him, letting your chin press in between his pecks.

he looks down at you softly, that same fond expression still there. "I just really like you, y/n/n." william's words are barely audible, and if you had emptied your dehumidifier like you had planned too earlier, the noise would've drowned out his confession.

but you didn't empty it and you can hear every soft word perfectly.

you smile. "I really like you too, willy." to further your point, you press a quick kiss to the skin of his chest. that slaty sweat flavour on his skin is another reminder of what you and william had just finished doing only a few minutes, and that has you flushing all over again.

with his free hand, william gently takes ahold of your face, tilting your head back so you were once again looking at him. you can see the thoughts running through his mind, and when william gently knaws the skin of his bottom lip around his never ending smirk, you wonder if he's also thinking what you are.

suddenly william drops down, and his hands wrap around your waist so he can fully roll you onto your back once again.

you giggle, your legs falling open automatically to make room for william. he leans down and begins to attack your flushed face with quick, loud kisses.

but that's not true - you know that now. it was never hard with william. the rather insignificant age gap between you was never an obstacle and neither was your job position. the only obstacle seemed to be how you were too nervous to put a label on the relationship in fear of ruining what you had.

you think what you and william had was too special to just ignore and give up on - you don't want to give up on him.

a hand reaches for one of the silver serving tongues in front of you, and you look up to find william standing there.

he looks away from you as soon as you make eye contact, and he busies himself by serving himself some of the pork sausages.

you clear your throat nervously. "hey."

at the sound of your voice, william looks back at you. his eyebrows are pulled together tightly and he analyzes you confusingly. his uncertain gaze has you nerves deepening, but you don't back down - determined to begin the process of moving forward with william.

"hi." finally, he responds. he shuffles further down the table, searching for the fried eggs to add to his new spread. you follow him from the other side of the long buffet table, eyeing him carefully.

"can we talk later?" you words are hushed as you try to not attract any unwanted attention to you both. you're still not sure if william told anyone and if he did, you don't know exactly what he said. so you were still feeling a bit weary of that situation, but you were ready to talk about it and clear your rollercoaster of thoughts.

william almost scoffs, the once usual happy and relaxed laughter you were so used to hearing from him has quickly turned into something more unsettling and your heart just about bursts. "now you want to talk?"

you blink. "I-"

he stops you from continuing, his plate of food long forgotten as he directs his attention to you completely. "because last week when you started acting all entitled and uninterested you didn't even have the decency to give me fucking eye contact. but now you want to talk? why, so you can come up with some excuse and tell me that you like me and want to move forward? well too bad because i'm over it."

you can feel the emotion building thickly in your throat and your eyes start to blur as you desperately try and hold in the waterfall of tears wanting to slip out. "so you don't want to at least talk about this? about us?"

he shakes his head in disbelief, that same scoffy laughter making another appearance. william meets your water filled eyes, and his face shifts. his mouth falls into a straight line and his eyes change to a more somber state. "what us?"

you look away to try and hide the way your mouth trembles with emotion - pain, hurt, sadness, embarrassment. you didn't actually think everything you'd be insecure and worried about would become the truth.

you don't give william the satisfaction of seeing you upset. you turn away and signal to another kitchen personal to take over. thankfully, they make their way over and as soon as their feet move, so do yours and you're leaving the dining area as fast as you can.

you barley make it through the busy hallway and back through into the kitchen staff room. thankfully because of the working hour, nobody else was in the room because as soon as the door swung shut behind you, the building of emotions all come out and you could no longer stop the flurry of tears.

you cover your mouth to try and mask the sound of the sobbing sounds of heartbreak, desperate to hold on to any dignity you have left.

your embarrassment quickly turns into anger.

william saying such hurtful words to you in a room full of both your colleagues, even if they weren't listening, is just aggravating. even if william never believed that you and him had anything meaningful and he believed your relationship wasn't leading to anything serious, he should of at least had respect for you.

the door opens behind you, and you know it's william immediately. your body reacts to his presence in the way it always has. your skin prickles with pleasure as if it was anticipating his touch and your face heats up further regardless of your current pain.

"please, william if you've come to further embarrass me and make me feel like shit i'd rather you just leave."

you've never called him anything other than willy. when the two of you first staring seeing one another, you told him the name william was too formal for him and willy better displayed his fun and lighthearted personality.

and even though everyone called him by his nickname, something about it coming from your lips was much more intimate.

he shakes his head even though you can't see him. your back is still turned to him because you don't want him too see you so distraught from his words - you can't give him the satisfaction of your raw emotion.

"I didn't mean that, y/n/n." william's words are gentle and full of guilt. "I shouldn't have said that."

you turn, eyes pointed with anger. "no you shouldn't of."

williams face furthers into a regretful expression. "I'm sorry." he walks further into the room, now standing close enough to touch you. but he doesn't try and touch you, and he keeps to himself regardless of how badly he wants to hold you and touch you after days of not.

"I thought you liked me." your words a breathless whine, and you wrap your arms around yourself in search of comfort.

"yeah and I thought the same." he admits sadly. "but then something changed and I don't know what the fuck happened. I felt completely left in the dark because you just completely stopped spending time with me, and talking to me and looking at me. it felt like you didn't like me at all, y/n/n."

you use your shoulder to wipe away the drying tears left sitting on your cheek. the little blush still on your face smudges into your white chefs top, making you look even more of a mess. "I was in my own head," you admit your defeat, "all these insecurities kept getting in the way of what was right infront of me. I thought that you wanted to keep us a secret because you were embarrassed of me - my age and my inexperience were something that you wanted to keep hidden."

you continue, "I thought you didn't want to further our relationship into one that held more serious value- had a title - because you didn't want to build something with somebody so young and lacking of life knowledge and experience. so I pushed you away because I didn't want to end up hurt when you inevitably admitted you could never love me that way - that I was just a fucking booty call."

he shakes his head, lips tugging downwards into a painful frown. "I don't care that you're younger than me and your age has never been an issue when it comes to my feelings about you and our relationship. just because you're younger doesn't not mean that you're inexperienced, y/n/n. in fact you're one of the smartest and experienced people I know."

"so what was it that stopped you from bringing up what this relationship between us was? what were you working towards, willy? when it came to me?"

william almost turns into a puddle at the use of his nickname. he has missed you and your presence so much these past few days of no contact, it's been killing him.

as soon as you walked away from him and his hurtful insinuation back in the dining room, william immediately knew he messed up. not just with the burst of anger only a few minutes ago, but with how he handled the relationship between you two after you seemingly were shutting down and turning away from him.

"when I noticed that something was going on with you and in your head, I should've been more supportive and I should've reached out to try and have a conversation to help squash these fears, and insecurities you were dealing with. i'm so sorry, y/n/n." he breathes out, pausing to collect his racing mind. "I want to be your boyfriend and the entire time we've been together I was so desperately hoping that you would want the same. I don't care if anybody thinks of me differently and I don't care if people think that we aren't good - I think we're great."

"willy," you huff, arms falling back to sit against your sides. "i'm sorry that I shut down instead of just talking to you - I feel so stupid." you pause shakily, trying to blink back the new wave of tears. william reaches out to you then, rubbing his hand comfortably around your hip. it's the comfort you've been missing - craving. you continue, "I really like you, willy. I wish that this never happened between us."

he nods understandably, squeezing the dip of your hip as if to tell you that you're not stupid, it is okay, I really like you too. "where do you want to go from here?"

"I want to...." you pause. "I want to start over. I want to date you for real with the labels and the pictures and everything else in between." you bite your lip nervously, trying to gauge william's face to try and understand what he's thinking. "where do you want to go from here, honestly?"

"I want to pick up right where we left off. I don't want this miscommunication to change our relationship anymore than it already has. the only thing I want to change is that I can call you my girlfriend and refer to you as such all the time."

"I want that too."

"good," william smiles, pressing his body against yours. with the new position, you have no other choice but to bring your arms up around around his neck - not that you minded of course. “I really like us, y/n.”

“I really like us, too.” your confession is a tickling whisper against his lips as william can’t help but let his mouth brush over yours, so close to connecting them together is a much needed kiss.

#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #hockey fic #william nylander blurb #william nylander x reader #william nylander fic #william nylander fanfic #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs blurb #toronto maple leafs imagine

224 notes · View notes

ricciardosheart · 7 months ago

Note

Hey could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she's a chef and he's being her taste tester for her new recipes. Maybe their son, Jack helped (a little bit). Add something you'd like. Tag me later! Thanks :)))

sorry for the delay lol i had not checked my messages, but thanks for the request , hope it did not disappoint, loads of love @pear-1206

Title: Taste Tester Duties Pairing: Toto Wolff X fem!wife and Jack Warning: None

pictures are from pinterest

The kitchen was a beautiful disaster, a blend of chaos and creativity that only came from a day spent experimenting with new recipes. Flour was scattered over the countertops like a dusting of fresh snow, and various kitchen utensils were piled in the sink, a testament to the culinary journey you and your son, Jack, had been on.

You glanced at the clock. It was almost time for Toto to come home. He’d taken on the role of your official taste tester ever since you decided to test out new recipes in the evenings. As a chef, you prided yourself on perfecting every dish, but there was something special about letting your husband, the always-composed Toto Wolff, be the first to try your new creations. And today, with Jack’s “help,” it was bound to be an adventure.

“Mommy, look!” Jack called out, holding up a wooden spoon triumphantly. He’d been in charge of stirring the sauce, but judging by the state of his shirt—and face—half of it seemed to have found its way onto him. Chocolate sauce, no less.

“Oh my,” you chuckled, wiping a smear of chocolate off his cheek with your thumb. “You’re going to be as messy as the kitchen.”

Jack beamed up at you, not bothered at all by the chocolate mayhem. “Papa’s going to love it, right?”

“He will,” you said with a smile, finishing the last of the plating. “Especially when he knows you helped.”

Just as you were setting the dishes out on the kitchen island, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. The deep baritone of Toto’s voice followed, speaking a quick goodbye to someone on the phone before he hung up. Jack's face lit up with excitement, and he dashed out of the kitchen to greet his father.

“Papa’s home!” he yelled, his little feet padding down the hallway.

Toto chuckled from the doorway, scooping Jack up into his arms the moment he came barreling into him. “There’s my boy,” Toto said warmly, planting a kiss on Jack’s chocolate-smeared forehead. “Have you been helping Mama again?”

Jack nodded vigorously. “I made the sauce!”

Toto raised an amused eyebrow, following Jack’s enthusiastic pointing toward the kitchen. “I can see that. Very creative.”

You couldn’t help but laugh when they both walked into the kitchen, Jack still perched in Toto’s arms. Toto’s eyes swept over the mess of the kitchen, landing on the immaculate plate of ravioli you had just finished arranging.

“Well, it’s always a good sign when the kitchen looks like a war zone,” he teased, setting Jack down. “Means something special is about to happen.”

“Let’s hope the food looks better than the kitchen,” you said, wiping your hands on your apron.

“I’m ready for my duties,” Toto said, rolling up his sleeves in an exaggerated gesture, a familiar twinkle in his eye. “What culinary adventure have you prepared for me this time?”

You placed the plate of ravioli in front of him with a flourish. “Ravioli with a chocolate reduction sauce. A little sweet, a little savory. And Jack was my sous-chef today.”

Toto glanced between you and Jack, clearly trying to keep a straight face. “A chocolate sauce, you say?”

“I stirred it!” Jack piped up again, climbing into the chair beside his father. “It’s good!”

Toto gave him a playful nod. “Well, if Jack says so, then I trust him. Here goes nothing.”

With that, Toto picked up his fork and carefully cut into the ravioli, making a show of sniffing it dramatically. He took a bite, chewing slowly while you and Jack watched with bated breath.

After a pause that felt much longer than it needed to, Toto’s face broke into a wide grin. “Incredible. Absolutely perfect,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Sweet, savory, just the right amount of balance. Jack, I think you’re a genius.”

Jack’s chest puffed up in pride. “Told you!”

You let out a relieved laugh, playfully rolling your eyes at the theatrics. “I thought I might have lost my touch there for a second.”

“Never,” Toto said, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Though I have to say, I was a little worried when I saw the chocolate…”

“You doubt me?” you said with mock offense.

Toto grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Never. But Jack’s taste is a little more… adventurous than mine.”

As if to prove his point, Jack was already poking at the leftover chocolate sauce on his plate, dipping his fingers in and licking them happily. “It’s the best sauce, Papa. Better than what you have on race weekends.”

“Is that so?” Toto asked, pretending to be offended. “Well, maybe I should ask the Mercedes team chef to take some notes from you two.”

“I’d be happy to share my recipe,” you teased, sitting down beside him. “But it’ll cost you.”

“Oh?” Toto raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “And what’s the fee?”

You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Another date night.”

Toto smirked, leaning in just as close. “Deal.”

Before you could steal a quick kiss, Jack interrupted with a loud, “Ew, Papa, no kissing!”

You and Toto both burst into laughter, and Toto ruffled Jack’s hair. “Alright, alright, I’ll spare you this time.”

Jack grinned, pleased with himself, and then clambered off his chair. “Can I have more sauce, Mommy?”

“Only if you promise not to wear it this time,” you said, eyeing the chocolate stains on his shirt.

As you got up to serve Jack another small portion, Toto stayed seated, watching the two of you with a contented smile. These moments—the little everyday joys of being together as a family—were what he looked forward to most after long days spent at the track or in meetings.

“You know,” Toto said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I think this one is good enough to serve at the next team dinner.”

You turned, eyebrow raised. “Really?”

He nodded, a playful smirk on his lips. “Absolutely. I can already picture Lewis and George fighting over the last plate.”

You laughed at the image. “I’m sure Jack’s chocolate sauce will be the next big thing in Formula 1.”

“World champion sauce,” Toto declared, raising his fork like a trophy. “Courtesy of my talented wife and her apprentice.”

Jack beamed, holding up his spoon in victory, mimicking his father’s gesture. “Yeah, world champion!”

You shook your head fondly at the two of them. “Well, before you go declaring any more world championships, how about we clean up this kitchen?”

Toto groaned dramatically. “Ah, the real challenge.”

“Papa, I can help!” Jack offered, hopping off his chair once again.

Toto exchanged a glance with you, his eyes softening. “Alright, buddy. Let’s tackle this together.”

The three of you spent the next while cleaning up, Jack eagerly running around with a small towel, trying his best to wipe up the counters (which mostly meant moving the mess around). But despite the chaos, there was an undeniable warmth that filled the room—one that came from shared moments, laughter, and love.

As the last of the dishes were put away and the kitchen began to resemble something more functional, Toto pulled you into a gentle embrace, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you for this, liebe. It’s exactly what I needed today.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “I’m just happy you like being my taste tester.”

“I love it,” he said softly, his arms tightening around you. “But not nearly as much as I love you.”

“Papa, come on!” Jack’s voice cut through the tender moment as he tugged at Toto’s sleeve. “Let’s go play!”

Toto chuckled, releasing you but not before planting one more quick kiss on your cheek. “Duty calls,” he said with a wink, before scooping Jack up in one fluid motion.

As you watched them disappear into the living room, their laughter filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. Life was messy, but it was yours—perfectly imperfect.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#toto wollf #toto #wolff #toto wolff fic #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fanfic #mercedes amg petronas #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #toto wolff

191 notes · View notes

aekatty · 1 year ago

Text

𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓮 ᯓᡣ𐭩

kiss below the line…

a/n: i hate him but at the same i ain’t mind letting him tap 😋 also using colored panels for now cause it’s cuter tee hee

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

18+ !! MINORS DNI

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

cw: p in v sex, oral sex, afab!reader, reader lowk a top here but sanji gets a tad bit of confidence towards the end, sanji know how to eat that kitty 🙏, reader a FREAK, call this man sanji freaksmoke ong 💀🙏, reader wears a bikini, no set arc, risky public sex, they fuck in a secluded area but still open to public, porn WITH plot

tags ✮⋆˙ smut, afab!reader x sanji, beach date, p in v bby, no set arc - no spoilers

now playing: dive - victoria monét

After a long strenuous journey of hopping from island to island, you suggested the crew stop at a tropical resort for a few days to rest and gather supplies for the Sunny. Liberating islands from tyrannical rule and going against from oppressive government is tiring…Well guess what? It’s time the Strawhats get a well deserved break!

“Hmm, yea sure,” your rubber captain shrugged.

“Wow, you didn’t really think that through did ya, Luffy?”

“No, you’re right. After a long battle, I’m pretty beat plus…”

“Plus?”

“A seafood boil sounds nice,” he laughed as he rubbed his rumbling belly.

Robin chuckled at Luffy’s expression, “Well, since us devil fruit power users can’t swim in the water, I wouldn’t mind indulging in a nice seafood feast cooked by our skillful chef.”

You suddenly see the pervy chef’s nose start to heave heavily, a few drops of blood trickling down his chin, “OF COURSE, ANYTHING FOR THE BEAUTIFUL LADIES OF OUR SHIP!”

His stance takes a 180 as he faces the men of the crew, “The men have to hunt for their own food.”

Zoro looks at him with annoyance, “Hey! Can I at least get some sake?!”

Luffy pouts, “No fair! I want to relax like the girls too!”

“Well, real men hunt for their own food!”

You sighed, “Sanji, relax, the guys worked hard at the last island. Cut ‘em some slack will ya?”

His demeanor changed as soon as you spoke, “OH MY DEAR, [NAME], YOU ARE SO RIGHT.”

“Alright, fine, since we’re going to have a seafood boil, I gotta gather some ingredients.”

“A spectacular feast created by our lovely cook, my mouth is watering just thinking about it, if I had any saliva…YOHOHOHO!”

“Then, it’s settled! Nami, set course for [insert cool island here]!”

“Right away, captain!” The beautiful tangerine-haired girl yelled back.

————

The summer sun shone upon the golden sand, the crystal blue water crashing upon the shore as the coconut trees swayed to the calming wind. The resort is occupied by many beach goers as children ran along the hot sand with beach balls, men clinked their beers, and ladies were served fancy mojitos. The smell of grilled meat lingered the air as barbecue parties took place nearby.

You reveled in the moment until hearing your captain’s booming voice destroy your peace of mind.

“WOOHOO!”

“LUFFY, DON’T GO IN THE WATER, YOU CAN’T-”

The rubber boy struggled to keep afloat in the water has he gargled for help, “HELP! HELP!”

“swim…” You facepalmed.

“I got it…” The green haired swordsman immediately dived into the water before rescuing your struggling captain.

“Captain, be more careful, will ya?”

He coughed up seawater, “Bleghhh, Zoro, I might throw up on you…”

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!”

You decided to sit with the girls when the blonde cook approached all of you. He sported black swimtrunks, along with a half-opened tropical shirt while holding a tray full of orange cocktails, “Well, ladies, can I interest ya’ll in some ‘Sex on the Beach’ drinks to quench your thirst?”

The black-haired vixen smiled, “Thanks, Sanji. You really know how to read our minds.”

“Wow, these look refreshing, as expected from our cook!” Nami took a sip of the alcoholic drink.

“No kidding, I was starting to feel a bit parched myself,” you smiled.

Sanji covered his nose to prevent a nose bleed from coming out, “Ladies, Ladies, no need to thank me. Just doing my job.” He smiled to himself as he replayed the compliments in his head.

You looked at him with concern, “Hey, Sanji. How’s ingredient gathering going for ya?”

“Huh? Oh, I’ve been trying to catch some fish and crab for the last 30 minutes but I think the amount of people here are scaring them away.”

“Hmm, hey! I can help you look for a secluded spot for fishing!” You cheerfully suggested to him.

“Oh, I can’t let a lovely lady like you get up and help me out like this!”

You chuckled, “No worries, I’d rather walk around then sit down doing nothing.”

“Well…I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have extra help.”

————

You sealed the bucket full of prawns before setting it aside and sitting down on the dampening sand, “Wow, we caught a lot today! We’re gonna be eating tonight, aren’t we?” You looked at the remaining gold rays of light slowly disappear in beyond the horizon.

He laughed at your amusement, “I should start cooking soon if we’re gonna serve this on time for the crew to start feasting.”

You attempted to carry the heavy bucket of freshly caught prawns, but it proved to be difficult with the sandy environment preventing better movement in your legs.

He noticed your struggle with the filled container, “Need any help?” He walked towards your sinking figure in the moist sand, lantern in hand to illuminate the darkened atmosphere.

“Ah, no, no! It’s ok!”

“Come on, [Name]. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No, really, I can manage-”

“I’ll just grab this part-”

“Sanji! It’s gonna-“

Splash

“…fall,” your once dried figures now soaked with sea water as both of you guys fell backwards into the incoming waves — his trembling body loomed over yours, salty droplets falling onto your face.

The sound of your increasing heart beat pounding in your ears from the closed distances between your bodies. Your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to his toned abs up close to your face, despite the evening darkness sweeping in to mask the dimming sunset.

You were embarrassed to admit it, but you always had a slight interest in the blonde cook. Sure, you were a little annoyed by his flirtatious attempts and his slightly pervy behavior — yet, in his times of seriousness that complimented his cool, stoic character, it was…quite attractive.

The amount of times you caught yourself staring at him as he cooked the crew’s meals with rolled-up sleeves, or chilling on the ship while lighting the butt of his cigarette. You had to resist the urge to bite your lip then and there.

But, seeing him on top of you while half naked and wet took the final slice of the cake.

“O-oh my god, I’m so sorry! I should’ve listened to you-” The blood rushed to his cheeks and ears to form an embarrassed blush before lifting himself off you.

“Hot damn….” You muttered to yourself.

“Uh…what?”

“Um- Uh, nothing,” you shot him a sheepish smile before lifting yourself up. “It’s all good, I should’ve just accepted your help,” you laugh awkwardly as you drag the fallen bucket.

“Ahem, that would’ve been awkward if anyone in the crew saw us,” he brushed his hand through his blonde locks before searching his pockets for his cigarette box.

You suddenly halt your process of dragging the prawn bucket, an invisible lightbulb lighting upon your head. You turn to the chef before smirking at him,“I wouldn’t mind giving them a show.”

You could practically see his eyes bulging out of his sockets at your flirtatious manner. Who knew the pervy cook would get nervous by one of the only girls in the Strawhats? You wanted to take advantage of this sudden burst of confidence…

You walked up to him, his face producing a red hue on his cheeks as he watched your figure close the proximity between you two. His heartbeat increased at the sight of your practically bikini-clad body swaying in the moonlight. He clutched the cigarette between his teeth…

You look up at his flustered face before stealing the lit cigarette from his lips, a seductive tone poisoned your words, “Can we stay here for a bit?”

The nervous cook gulped, “U-Uh um…why?”

He watched as you took a drag out of his own cigarette before putting it out — He never found anything so sexy in his life; not even when he saw a naked Nami back in Alabasta before.

You harshly pushed his toned figure onto the dry sand before noticing the now obvious bulge in his pants. You were quite pleased by the outcome of this situation as you watched the cook fall to his knees for you — he relished in the sight of you using him. It was kind of different from the way you seen him with other girls. Slowly, you hovered over his body; his eyes glued onto your bikini-covered chest as he felt his mouth become dry.

“I think you know the answer, Sanji…”

————

A needy moan escaped from the cook’s mouth as you caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, your tongue ravaging with his as you grinded your clothed heat on his crotch. His body had become so turned-on from your sudden dominant nature, your touches like a tempting devil.

“[Name]…fuck,” his hands moved to your hips as you continued dry humping his erection.

You caught his lower lip between your teeth, “You’re so fucking sexy when you say my name like that, wanna scream it more for me?” You watched his body shutter as you exchanged the movement of your hips with your rubbing over his hardened bulge.

“A-ah shit, mon chérie, quit teasing me…”

You bit your lip as you continued your edge on his clothed cock, ignoring his pleas for your pussy. You relished in the sight of the blonde begging for your attention. You rubbed his erection in a faster pace, grabbing the outline of his size — he groaned at your intense touch.

A sly smirk creeped onto your face as you guided his hand under your skimpy bikini top, his hand instinctively squeezing the soft mound of flesh, brushing over your now hardened nipple. A soft moan left your mouth as you felt his rough hand roll the pearl between his fingers. You slapped his hand away with a smirk on your face.

You slowly shoved two fingers into his mouth, feeling the warmth of his tongue sucking and licking them, “Wanna show me what that mouth can do?”

You remove your bikini bottom, revealing the transparent slick trail of your arousal connecting from your pussy to the dampened cloth. You toss it to the side before hovering your crotch over his flustered face.

You harshly grabbed his face, “Make me cum and maybe I’ll give ya a reward.”

“…Yes, ma’am…”

You cautiously lowered your hips onto his face before you felt strong hands hastily grab your hips and slam you down. A yelp came out of you at the sudden pressure of your crotch rubbing on his face.

The warmness of his tongue desperately overlapping over your needy hole as you bit your lip to conceal the sounds of your impending pleasure. The sound of the crashing salt water colliding with the sand had become quieter as the sun died down and the moonlight became brighter.

The sound of sloppy wetness overtaking your hearing as he fucked his tongue inside you. You face twisting from the overbearing sensation of pleasure took over your body as you grinded your cunt further into his face, the feeling of his nose rubbing against your sensitive clit, the smell of your arousal radiating off your warm body.

He lapped his tongue over your erected bud as sucked you off like a starved man. He groaned as he pulled your hips harder onto his face with need, his grip tightening around you. — He became obsessed with the taste of you and he was wanting more.

He slid his hands over the fleshy mounds of your ass before spreading them apart for better access. The speed of his tongue fastening had jolted the nerves of your body, your back arching from the overstimulation on your abused clit.

“S-Sanji! Oh god, keep going!” You cried out in pleasure. The moist sounds of his mouth connected with your saliva-coated cunt.

“Mmm’ Mon chérie, cum on my face,” he groaned as he swiped his tongue over your pulsating hole.

Your core tightened as you felt your approaching climax form into a pit in your stomach, “Then, you better savor it while you can, Blondie.”

He swore he could’ve felt his cock twitch in his swim trunks at the sound of his nickname slipping from your lips. God, the things you do to him…

You swayed your hips to the movement of his hungry tongue as the muscles of your increasingly tightening before you felt the imaginary coil unravel and relax. Your milky liquid leaking out your pulsating hole, smothering over the cook’s face.

He released the suction of mouth over your erected bud with the sound of a pop. His chin had been covered in his own saliva and your arousal. He huffed and puffed as he caught his breath. The taste of your cum lingered as on his lips as he licked them without shame.

“Good boy, I think it’s time I give you your reward,”you shifted your body off his face, the feeling of the cold grainy sand resting below your knees as you lowered your face over his crotch.

A surprised moan escaped the cook’s tainted lips as you pressed light kissed over his erection, the taste of ocean salt overtaking your taste buds. You could practically feel his wanting cock straining along the restraints of his wet as it ached for your touch.

You grabbed the hem of his trunks, peeling the fabric to reveal his touch-starved cock — it had a slight curve to it, the circumcised tip supporting a swollen redness as it leaked precum, his shaft with a few veins trailing down to his nicely-groomed happy trail of blonde hair surrounding it, his balls desperately awaiting to be emptied from all the edging you did to him.

“Nice cock, dude.”

“Haha, very funny, [Name],” he sarcastically rolled his eyes.

“I’m being serious, Sanji,” you swipe your index finger over the dripping slit of his tip.

A grunt escaped his lips as you flicked his sensitive cock in a teasing manner; Your hand running down his shaft before slowly fisting his cock in your hand. That fucking smug smirk painted on your face that drove him insane the entire time.

Your hand moved up and down faster as you watched his face twist from pleasure, his body jerking from the sudden jolts of electricity running in his body from your touch — You swiped your tongue over the flushed head, savoring the taste of the transparent liquid as you continued your pace on his shaft. A sharp hiss escaped through his teeth as you rubbed and squeezed his sensitive balls in the process; god, he was about to burst then and there.

He gripped the sand below him as you brought him to the edge of his orgasm, you enjoyed the amount of overstimulation you brought to his cute face as his curly brows scrunched together in pleasure. You bit your lip as you felt his cock twitch in your hand before-

“Sanjiiiii! [Name]! Where are you?? I’m hungry!!” You hear Luffy’s voice in the distance.

The cook looked back at you in horror, in fear that both of you guys were about to get caught by your captain. Luckily, you were out of sight from your rubber captain due to the steep rock wall that separated you and Sanji from him. You shot him a devious look as you continued your movement on his needy cock, “Gonna answer?”

Oh, fuck you.

“W-We’re still busy fishing so g-go away!” He yelled back with nervousness.

He bit the inside of his cheek as you engorged his cock into your mouth, the salty taste of his precum filling your taste buds as you slobbered over the tip and shaft.

“Well, hurry up already!!” the hurried tone of your captain’s voice echoing in the distance.

The cook groaned in annoyance, “SH- SHUT UP AND BE PATIENT OR ELSE ITS VEGETARIAN FROM NOW O-ON!!!”

“AGHH FINEEEE…”

A small snort escaped through your nose as you heard their short banter. Sanji was such a cutie patootie when he got mad at the crew you thought to yourself.

That’s probably why you enjoy seeing the cook moaned and whimpered as he submitted to your touch, wanting more of your attention from you. <3

He felt as if he could cum to the vibrations of your gagging alone as you struggled to swallow his cock whole, hitting the gag reflex that sat in the back of your throat. What didn’t help was when you caressed his swollen balls, squeezing them as if they were putty in your hands. They tensed at your touch as they added onto the ongoing stimulation on his messy cock.

He bit his lip while grabbing tufts of your hair as he felt the euphoric climax slowly creep towards his tip as you continued sucking him like a summertime popsicle.

Just when he was about to release his seed, you halted your action; releasing his cock with a pop as it bounced towards his abdomen. His cock twitched with impatience as it awaited more of your stimulation. The tip redder than before as it begged to release its seed.

He huffed, “Mon chérie…wha… what are you doing?”

You hovered over him before whispering in his ear, “I’m gonna ride you, that’s what i’m gonna do.” You bit his ear before aligning yourself over his cock.

You slammed on his cock, causing both of ya’ll to gasp in pleasure as you felt the gumminess of your walls swallow his size. He grabbed the fat of your ass as you bucked your hips up and down.

“Oh god! Oh yes!” You cried out as you felt him match his hip movements with yours.

Your pussy was practically a perfect mold for him as you sought to reach that euphoric feeling of edging to your arrival. You became obsessed with the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix as each thrust became deeper and rougher. You swore you saw a tear well up in his ducts as you watched his face become a moaning mess.

“Hah, oh fuck! K-Keep going at this speed, I might cum inside you…” He squeezed your ass harder as he kissed and sucked the skin on your collar bone.

“S-Sanji- hah!” You felt his lips lick the soft flesh of your chest as he moved his hands towards the underside of the fabric triangles, pushing them upwards to reveal the dark pearls of your cherries.

“Sanji!” You screamed his name as you felt the warm sensation of his tongue lap over your erected nipples. Now you’re the one being a victim to overstimulation.

He groaned as he made out with your right nipple while pinching your left one, the friction leaving you speechless as you were left in a moaning mess. He clenched your the soft mound as he felt your moist walls squeeze around his cock.

“You’ve been teasing me this whole time, I couldn’t help but retaliate…” He left your right boob with purple marks around your now tender nipples. He shifted his attention towards your left boob as he sucked and bit your dark pearl, enough to send electricity towards your pussy.

“Mmm’ you taste so divine, Mon chérie…This is way better than some seafood boil.” He loved the way you clenched on his cock as he sucked your sensitive nipple.

No amount of crashing ocean waves nor the sound of seagulls squawking under the illuminated night sky could muffle out the sounds of sloppy slaps and moans of the heated moment you both shared. You cried out his name in hiccups as he continued the movement of his hips guiding his cock towards your cervix, increasing his speed.

“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji…i’m gonna cum!” You were going dizzy at his hypnotizing movements.

“Fuck, me too…Can I cum on that pretty face of yours, Mon chérie?”

You nodded as you felt that familiar tightening feeling in your abdomen of your impending orgasm had . The thought of releasing on his cock was racing in your mind as you wanted to savor the sensation the next time you had the “urge.”

You gripped his shoulders as you arched your back to the ripping feeling of your toe-curling release, a cry for pleasure escaped your lips as you felt your abused walls clench around him. — thick, white…it poured from your used hole as it coated on his twitching member, waiting to come as well.

He groaned at the sight of his cock being covered in your slick, like a used sex toy. He fisted his cock, your cum serving as lubrication to relieve himself.

He chanted your name in mutters as he took in the sight of your fucked-out face, sporting a tomato red and a trail of saliva dripping down your chin as you huffed and puffed for air. His hand instinctively stroked faster as the aftermath of your face around him even more. He let out a groan as he felt the nerves in his shaft jolt as ropes of hot cum spurt from his reddened tip.

You smirked as you watched the white fluid land on your face along with your hickey-covered chest. You didn’t want to lie when you felt surprised by how much spilled out of him—embarrassing amount continued to drip onto the sand from his now sensitive cock.

You bit your lip, “Didn’t tell me you had that much in ya.”

His face became flushed, “It’s not my fault, I was pent up from how much you edged me today!”

“You’re really hot when you’re hard at work, I couldn’t help seeing you in such a submissive state,” you stuck your tongue at him.

His heart skipped a beat at your embarrassing words, “MY LOVE, I’LL LET YOU DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY.”

And…he’s back to his usual self.

The chef’s ears perk up as he hears rustling from the nearby coconut trees. You noticed his reaction before your attention redirected towards the origin of the sound.

“What the hell, where am I?

The mosshead looked towards your direction as he noticed the two figures in the distance, immediately recognizing the both of you.

Both you and Sanjj’s mouth dropped open before you guys scrambled on the sandy floor, readjusting your swimsuits and jumping in the cold salty waters to wash off the evidence. In the back of your mind, you wanted to cry of embarrassment; the thrill of almost getting caught was exhilarating itself. However, getting caught a a different story.

“Go away, moss head! We’re trying to fish in peace over here!” The blonde cook yelled at the swordsman.

Zoro smirked, “You sure this is fishing, cause last time I checked, you’re supposed to have your clothes on.”

Both you and Sanji looked at each other with an embarrassed blush on your face before quickly diverting your faces knowing the opposite direction.

“Zoro, you can’t tell anyone…” You softly pleaded.

The swordsman yawned, “I don’t really care, I was tryna find curly brow since Luffy was getting antsy about the food.”

“Oh and I was wondering where you kept the sake.”

The cook facepalmed himself, “You fucking drunk…it’s in the wine cabinet now go away.”

The swordsman yawned again, “Wow, thanks I guess. I’ll let yall do your thing but hurry up cause the captain looks like he’s about to munch on our emergency food (chopper).”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll get started once [Name] and I bring our shellfish catch back to the ship.”

You sighed in annoyance, “Let’s just get out of here.”

As the three of you walked back, the little devil on your shoulder caused you to land a nice smack on Sanji’s ass. He turned around with surprised look on his face while rubbing the impacted area. You shot a smug smirk at the cook before doing the “p in v” gesture with your fingers.

He smirked before giving you a wink. You quietly giggled before whispering in his ear, “Let’s do this again, but more private.

#one piece #fanfic #smut #one piece smut #oneshot #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji smut #one piece fanfiction

386 notes · View notes

theladyofmanyfandomsafterhours · 1 year ago

Text

Better Served Warm.

Sanji x Reader

Explicit | NSFW | 18+ only

Warnings: Heavy smut under the cut. It’s purely self-indulgent.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“Sanji, should we even be doing this here?” You asked through the kisses as the chef slowly pushed you further until your back was laying against the kitchen bench. The cool surface a wonderful welcome against your fiery skin.

You heard Sanji pant softly, his hands had finished discarding your clothes. His mouth abandoned yours and began their journey down your body, their destination being exactly where his fingers were toying with your sensitivity.

“This room - is for eating.” Sanji replied, lips now nearing your belly button. The ticklish nature of the spot made you squirm the lower he went - again and again until…

“Sanji…” you moaned when his mouth pressed the top of your folds. Humming, you threw your head back missing the way he smirked at the reaction.

“Relax, love. You taste exquisite when it’s warm and the juices are fresh.” He said.

Fuck. His phrasing was going to break the tightly wound coil on its own if he kept going like this.

Sanji’s fingers crept into the mix and you felt them touch the entrance - slowly parting them wider despite being so slippery.

“And when you’re opened up just enough,” you closed your eyes. He was going to be the death of you. “I can taste every flavour.”

Sanji’s tongue was hot and you felt it swirl on the inner surface before it pushed inside, curling around whatever wetness it could find and delivering it back for the cook to swallow.

The mental image was all that you clung on to. If you looked down and saw his blonde-hair between your legs - it would be over.

There was a sudden strange pressure like suction and you covered your mouth when you realised that Sanji had started sucking. His fingers stretching the folds a little more while his elbows tried to spread your legs wider.

It was like he had been starved.

The sounds he made were dizzying. When he finally pulled off, his pressed a light kiss against the skin and saw the way it clenched involuntarily.

“I need you to refill.” Sanji looked up, to where you were avoiding his face. He moved his fingers to allow your entrance to close but left two inside to stop anything from spilling and going to waste.

With his free hand, Sanji swirled a pattern under your navel. “I know it’s ready. Simmering right under here.” He said lustfully. “Come on, love. Don’t let me go hungry.”

You felt his fingers prod in your entrance and you gasped. How was he relentless and so sweet? Giving in, you lowered your head and saw how he was positioned. With one hand pumping itself into you while the other rest on top, it almost felt like you were being prepped.

Looking into his eyes, you noticed his lips slightly tinted from where he had licked them repeatedly after almost sucking you dry. That thought in itself was enough to release the pent up tension - and Sanji knew it.

He smirked. “That’s it.” He cooed as his fingers felt your body clamp down around him to prepare for the flood. Sanji glanced at where his hand had been tracing and pressed a little firmly. “Come on, let it spill.”

You cried out softly as you released everything you had to offer but you didn’t feel relieved - as if there was more to go but it was… blocked. That’s when you remembered that Sanji had you plugged up so your spend couldn’t properly escape.

“Sanji, I need - there’s too much - I can’t…” your pleading was incoherent but Sanji knew exactly what you were trying to say.

Smiling, he bent down to your entrance now able to hear the soft squelch of his fingers against the opening and readied himself.

After this was over, Sanji would refill your body with his hot ropes matching each drop but first, he’d devour everything you had made for him.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A/n: Anyone else a little hot and bothered here?

#opla smut #one piece smut #sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji smut #sanji x reader #sanji imagine #sanji imagine smut #sanji x reader smut #opla x reader #opla imagine #one piece x reader

812 notes · View notes

fandoms--fluff · 1 year ago

Note

No humanity Hope dating fem reader 😭

Dating No Humanity Hope Mikaelson Headcannons

Female vampire reader x Hope Mikealson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd be surprisingly caring for you, she'd brush your hair out of your face and hug you to keep you warm on cold nights and stuff like that

Blood sharing>>>>>

The sex would be obliterating *chefs kiss*

Watching in awe as she threatens people

Can't help but smile as she rips people apart

Knowing she's crazy, but she's yours>>

She'd take you out to crazy expensive restaurants and then you guys feed on the staff after

She makes sure people know you're hers

Protectiveness at 100%

If a threat makes its way to you, that person is dead. Quite literally.

She loves biting your bottom lip

Convincing her to show you her vamp face

^tracing every detail of the veins under her eyes as she smirks

At first, her family thought you were being controlled by Hope when they tried to bring back her humanity, only to find out you're just about as crazy as her.

Going to bars and drinking like there's no tomorrow and getting on the dance floor together.

And when you can't do that and are stuck at the boarding school somehow, you sneak into jackass Alaric's office and take his bourbon

Slowing any supernatural healing you may have down when she marks you with bites and hickies so she can enjoy her work

Taking you along her journey with a newly turned Lizzie

And then Lizzie being visibly sick whenever you two are being your loving selves

Barely having any clothes on when you guys are alone together, cause why would either of you want that?

You're just as protective of her as she is of you

You don't want to get on your bad side if someone were to take a lunge at your girlfriend

Your scent is intoxicating to her

Always having at least one hand on you because she can't help herself. Who could?

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson headcannons #no humanity hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson x female reader #hope mikaelson x fem reader #hope mikaelson x vampire reader #vampire reader #no humanity #no humanity hope headcannons #lizzie saltzman #imagines #thevampirediaries #writing #theoriginals #legacies

326 notes · View notes

buzzcutlip · 10 months ago

Text

Cracks and Gaps - The Worst Day (part I) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Mature (Explicit in the following parts) 7434 words ao3

You meet Carmen in Copenhagen through a mutual friend and bond over shared experiences. After following his rising career from afar, you reconnect in Chicago when he renovates his late brother's restaurant. As an editor, you can't miss an opportunity to find out more about the comeback of this chef prodigy.

A/N: I've started writing this story a looong time ago last year. There will be two more parts. I would like to thank @carmyboobear for being the most incredible beta and helping me out on the rocky journey. They're a very special person to me, and also a fantastic and inspiring writer themselves. Please, check their Carmy stories if you haven't!

THE WORST DAY

The first time you meet Carmen, you are both a little over twenty and in Copenhagen. He is staging at Noma, and you are interning at a design studio where everyone is very “green.” From one of your conversations with Carmen, you learn that Pop-Tarts and Cheetos are illegal here. In Europe. Most of the sodas that stained your tongue crazy colors when you were a kid are banned too. He lectures you on Scandinavian agriculture and food production.

Carmen is skinny and short—still a bit taller than you, though—with sharp, high cheekbones and bulging eyes. You don't know enough about each other to be “friends,” but he is a good companion. Your high school friend Becky knows Carmen’s older sister; that’s how you found each other in Denmark’s capital.

On two rare occasions, you get drunk together, and that happens only when he is stressed from work. Like, stressed STRESSED. You'd think he only drinks special natural wine from Lofoten or something, but his choice of poison is canned Budweiser. Maybe he misses home as much as you do. Maybe that’s what leads you to almost kiss him the second time. Carmen lives on a boat, and he takes you there, where you drink vodka mixed with herbs and licorice that Carmen concocts, his tongue peeking out between his lips as he concentrates. The drink tastes good. Weird. You don't hide your grimace. Neither of you comments on the alcohol ratio. It's more vodka than anything else, that's for sure.

Carmen is not your type, physically or character-wise—you are an introvert yourself, so you need someone to bring you out of your shell. Obviously, doing an internship on a different continent is a huge step, one that is only on you. He also smokes a lot and probably doesn't wash his hair. You've heard about his crazy mother and bonkers family from Becky, so you understand why Carmen is Carmen. Why he’s run off to Europe. It's just—his face—his eyes, when he's telling you about his dream job at Noma or Alchemist—they glow, and he becomes so animated, the quiet excitement seeping to the surface, and there's fondness blooming in your chest. He also knows a thing or two about sports, as you do, the subject bringing you back to Chicago, and the longing for “home” and “familiar” is terribly strong in the moment, enhanced by the alcohol. And Carmen, the boy sitting opposite you, with burns on his hands and ripped jeans, is both of those things put into one.

Nothing happens between you two, but the urge to press your own lips against his lingers after you leave in a taxi, not brave enough to ride a bike under the influence.

You try to stay in touch after Copenhagen, messaging Carmen on his empty Facebook profile, sending a text once in a while, mainly at Christmas, and when you have some terrible junk food, just to make fun of him. When he FaceTimes you, he’s in Paris, and you’re in Dublin. The next time, he’s in California.

He rarely ever answers messages on the phone. Usually, it's an emoji, sometimes a word or two. Soon, there are no answers, and you can't be bothered. You carry on with your life in Chicago, and it doesn’t take long before you start seeing Carmen Berzatto in the paper, on the internet. The young prodigy chef, everyone says. Reluctantly, you read the articles, thinking about the Copenhagen Carmen, smiling at his photos. He's grown up, filled out. His hair is curlier, his shoulders wider, his biceps stronger. He looks good. Good and sad, you think to yourself, and decide not to text him to congratulate him on his star career. Carmen is not one to care about what you think of it.

It's only when you hear from Becky that Mikey Berzatto has died, that you think of Carmen properly, after years full of work in the magazine office, one shitty almost-boyfriend, and summers spent in Europe, writing about sustainable travel and solo adventures. Becky says that he's inherited a restaurant from Michael. You decide against sending him condolences—too personal.

But about ten months later, there's whispering that a fancy restaurant, The Bear, is replacing The Beef of Chicagoland, and it's actually your boss who tells you that you should go check the place out.

You are not into that whole haute cuisine thing, to be honest. You never understood those tiny little portions and strange ingredients and their combinations. You prefer good pasta with Bolognese sauce or roasted chicken with mashed potatoes. Sometimes you wonder if Carmen's strange relationship with his family is what's keeping him away from his Italian roots and forcing him to work in pristine, starched whites in sterile kitchens, cooking intestines and antlers, making it art.

---

Becky gives you Natalie Berzatto’s phone number to get in touch with her to try to schedule an interview for the magazine feature. Your boss, Rob, hopes that Carmen could even make it to the cover soon when The Bear takes off. You’re not sure how you feel about bypassing Carmen completely and going straight to his sister.

So one Thursday, in early May, you decide to walk there, unannounced. You corner the building, passing a big glass window, and before you make it to the main entrance, you nearly collide with a very wonky wooden stepladder. With Carmen Berzatto on top of it, fiddling with a screwdriver or a similar tool, and a signboard.

The second you make contact with the ancient stepladder, Carmen shouts, "Fuck!"

“Sorry,” you yelp, and one glance at the man high up confirms that you are indeed dealing with the Chef himself.

“Could you watch out?” he says angrily as he makes his way down, measuring every step carefully.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, waiting anxiously for Carmen to—hopefully—recognize you. To anyone walking by, you must look like an idiot, standing still in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting motionless and stiff for a guy to climb down a ladder.

You don’t know what you had been expecting but definitely not Carmen staring at you with his huge, bloodshot eyes for seconds that feel like minutes. You nearly turn around and walk away, no joke.

He looks—

“You look—” you start. Terrible. But also, like, gorgeous. Terribly tired but hot. Is it awful of you to think that?

“Hi,” Carmen says, one hand going into the big mess of his hair, the other one into his pants pocket. He's avoiding your eyes, which makes you even more nervous, makes you think it was not such a great idea to come here.

“Hi!” you say, probably overly enthusiastically. “You're back in Chicago,” is the first thing you can think of.

He nods. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Well, congrats on the new place,” you say, gesturing to the building behind him, newspaper covering the windows. “I'm really sorry, I thought it was already open,” you explain, tugging on the hem of your lilac sweatshirt nervously. Can he tell you’re lying? “Becky mentioned something about it.”

“No, we’re opening next week,” Carmen says, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

“I'm really curious,” you smile carefully, testing the waters, wondering how he's going to react. You haven't seen each other in more than five years, and Carmen's never been exactly friendly. Not like mean, but definitely not easily approachable. “I work for this magazine, and we would love to do a feature on this,” you say, leaving out that it's you who would be writing it. Who wants to write it. Not only about the place but about Carmen, the enigma, the quiet boy, the excellent chef.

He only nods, clearly not sharing your enthusiasm. “Maybe later,” he taps the cigarette against the palm of his other hand. “When we're ready for this kind of thing.”

“Of course,” you agree quickly.

“Might be a while.”

“So what is the big plan?”

Carmen looks at you, measuring you. Like he thinks you have some ulterior motive. He lights up the cigarette, taking a long drag from it, and you fight not to scrunch your nose in disgust. The older you get, the more you hate the smell. Especially when someone is blowing out the smoke aimlessly—almost—in your face.

“My partner—Sydney, she’s hung up on the stars. So I guess a fine dining kinda place,” Carmen says, flicking the cigarette butt in the general direction of the gutter. The second sentence comes out more like a question than a statement, but you are still processing the first one.

“You run a business with your girlfriend?” you swear you don’t mean it to sound so accusing.

Carmen takes a step back, physically—bumping into the stepladder behind him—and mentally, too. “No! She—Sydney’s my business partner.” The defensive tone tells you exactly how your words sounded though. You wince. “We’ve been working on the new concept together with Nat, and the whole crew, actually. It’s—it’s a family business, I guess—uhm. We had only like three months to finish, and—”

You can see he’s really flustered. He’s starting to stutter, hand nervously scratching his neck. You hate the sight, hate that you’ve made him feel like this.

“I’m sorry!” you interrupt him. “It came out all wrong. I shouldn’t have said that,” you say urgently, hoping to see him relax back to his non-caring, nonchalant, tired-looking self. How could you mess up so quickly? Is that your special ability or a curse?

“‘s fine,” Carmen says, and he does relax a bit, shoulders dropping an inch. He doesn’t look friendly though. Or in the mood for a chat. “I just—she’s a business partner,” he repeats obstinately, face red.

The moment grows awkward. In your coat pocket, you touch a pack of chewing gum and start fiddling with it. “I—my office is nearby so I thought I could come around and see the progress,” you say into the void, trying not to cringe too much. “Maybe I would take a few colleagues for dinner.”

“The reservations aren't open yet,” Carmen says in a flat voice. You can’t call him out because it’s probably true anyway. Plus, you just lied again—the offices are not close; you had taken the L—and you feel bad about it.

There’s not much left to say, you realize. He’s not giving you any space to turn this “accidental” meeting into a proper conversation. You shuffle your feet nervously, feeling stupid.

“Alright. It was nice seeing you!” you say, as it’s about time to end this. “Hope everything’s gonna work out great!” you add in a cheerful tone, already setting to walk back to the station.

“Yeah. Thanks. Bye.” Carmen says back, lighting a second cigarette.

What a nightmare, you think as you walk through the busy streets.

—

In the following weeks, you almost forget about The Bear. Rob complains about the nonexistent article on the new, already hyped-up restaurant and wasted opportunities, but what can you do? The not-at-all-accidental meeting with Carmen had been a disaster you actively try to erase from your mind. Working on your regular column and material for the website keeps you busy. Then Becky calls out of nowhere, and you two arrange lunch at The Marq. You end up swapping hilarious stories from the last two months you hadn’t seen each other, and you secretly pray she doesn’t ask about Natalie Berzatto or her brother. You're out of luck, because she does—of course she does—and you have to lay the cards on the table.

“You did contact Nat first though?” is the first thing Becky asks.

“I didn’t,” you shake your head. “I didn’t want to exclude Carmen right at the very beginning,” you admit.

“Oh god,” Becky rolls her eyes at you, taking a small bite of her salmon cake sandwich.

“I knooow,” you quickly stop her, feeling like ordering something stronger than the simple soda you’ve been drinking.

“I think you should still call Natalie,” Becky says, pointing at you with a determined frown. “I went to see her and her new baby just last week. She asked about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Apparently they could really use some help getting the word out about The Bear. A good excuse to talk Carmen into an interview maybe? An exclusive one?” She wiggles her eyebrows, knowing how cool it would be for you to come up with this.

“Maybe,” you muse, playing it cool. Inside, you are already hyped up about the possibility of scoring the first interview with the former best chef in the world. Is he still good at all? Why did he disappear? Why is he back?

—

The anxiety of the following days forces you to actually text Natalie. You’ve been checking online websites and Instagram accounts apprehensively, worried that a medium might publish something about The Bear before you get a chance. Rob isn’t a dick, but you wouldn’t want to look incompetent in his eyes. So far, you’ve been able to steer away from conversations about the new Carmen Berzatto restaurant at work. Your work ethic makes it difficult for you to let The Bear go without a fight.

That’s how you find yourself in front of Natalie’s door. When she opens it, she doesn’t hide her fervor.

“Oh, finally! Hi! Please come in.” She ushers you inside. You’ve never seen her in person, only on Becky’s Instagram, maybe, and even though the exhaustion is apparent on the woman’s face, you can spot the similarities with Carmen in her features right away.

From the dark hallway, she leads you to the sitting room. When you look around, it’s hard to find a clutter-free space. Every surface is covered with baby clothes, baby diapers, baby wipes—clean and dirty—bottles—full and empty.

“Sorry for the mess,” Natalie appears next to you, snatching away a baby muslin from the sofa. “Have a seat, please,” she nods. “The baby’s asleep. Hopefully for the next—” and she checks her watch, “another twenty minutes.”

As you sit down, Natalie collapses into an armchair, not minding what appears to be a pile of freshly washed newborn onesies and other clothes underneath her.

“Thank you so much for stopping by,” she says sincerely, and you notice the many stains on her purple t-shirt.

You smile. “No problem.”

“Becky said that you know stuff about Instagram and social media and marketing and all that?” Natalie’s eyes are wide and hopeful.

“I would say so,” you nod.

“I’m not sure what Becky mentioned already,” Natalie says as she starts pulling the baby clothes from under her and folding them absentmindedly. That definitely says something about the state she’s in, without Becky describing the situation to you—not only with The Bear but also Nat herself. “Carmy’s putting so much into the restaurant—we all are—so much hope,” she babbles, “none of us have slept properly in weeks—months! And now the baby...” Natalie’s gaze becomes unfocused for a moment before she blinks rapidly. “The timing’s not so great,” she forces out a weak laugh, and you smile again, already feeling bad for her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“I understand. It’s hard,” you empathize, feeling genuinely bad—not for The Bear—but for Natalie.

“I’m not a marketing guru, but I can research things,” she carries on, more confident now. “But I can’t be there all the time, y’know? It’s just not possible. If—if someone could help with keeping the place afloat and spreading the word—” she stops talking and folding, looking directly at you. “That would be just so awesome,” she finishes quietly, her bottom lip wobbling.

You know that Nat’s not trying to emotionally blackmail you, even though the situation kinda feels like it, and you do feel for her.

“I can help, yes.”

“I’ll talk to Carm and Sydney, and we’ll figure out how much we can offer you!” The relief and excitement are apparent in the way Nat jumps up from the armchair.

“That’s alright, really,” you say calmly, putting a hand on her arm now that she’s closer. “We can discuss this later,” and you give her another encouraging smile.

The unmistakable sound of a baby crying comes from somewhere in the house. Poor Natalie freezes, her hand going to touch her chest. She takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Thank you. Thank you,” and she takes a hold of your hand, squeezing it. “I’ll tell Sydney to get in touch with you—or you can actually just go to the restaurant; they know about you.”

That makes you slightly uncertain as you remember your first attempt at an unannounced visit to The Bear.

“Alright,” you nod with a polite smile. After all, you’re getting something out of this too.

��

Sydney texts you exactly 22 minutes after you leave worn-out Natalie and her baby behind and invites you to come to The Bear the next day. To make yourself appear more untouchable, you reply that the soonest you’re available is next Monday. Make them wait.

It gets you on edge, though, and more than once you think of Carmen in his tiny Copenhagen kitchen, how things used to be. How easy it is to grow apart. Not that you’d been friends exactly. Hard to be anything like that with a person as closed off as Carmen Berzatto.

On the agreed Monday, you dare to finish early at work and take the train to The Bear. Your stomach is in knots, even though you’ve been pretty brave about the whole thing. It’s just—you’re not sure how Carmen’s gonna react when he sees you, and you’re already thinking about the worst possible scenarios. Just stop! you tell yourself resolutely, forcing yourself to concentrate on the simple but well-thought-out marketing plan you prepared to present. Without being asked. If Carmen sees that you actually KNOW things, he might change his opinion about you. Not that you KNOW his opinion, but—maybe he would actually acknowledge you finally.

It’s just after the family meal when you arrive. A tall man who introduces himself as Richie lets you in instantly, and he’s clearly been informed about your arrivall. As soon as Sydney is notified of your presence, she rushes to you from the kitchen in the back, wiping her hands on her apron. You notice right away that she’s friendly and calm, and it relaxes your nerves. There’s no doubt she loves the restaurant and her job, and you see that she worries as much as Natalie does, or even more.

“We’re opening in two hours, so it’s a bit wild in the back, but maybe you wanna see the kitchen?” Sydney offers as she’s showing you around the newly restored restaurant, opening the heavy door. “A quick peek,” she adds as a loud cracking noise comes out of the exact door.

You’ve been to a couple of kitchens, and you must say that this one’s definitely on the chaotic side of the scale. People in white aprons run here and there, no one’s still, not even for a second. There’s a good amount of shouting and a huge amount of swearing. In the middle of everything, there’s Chef Carmen Berzatto. He looks like a character from Cartoon Network. His wild hair is sticking out in all directions, dark tattoos covering his arms and hands, face sweaty, eyes ready to pop out of his head. He’s shorter than most people you see circling the kitchen, but the loudest one. He shouts orders, and you notice the vein on the side of his neck—it sure is ready to burst. You wonder how far he is from having a heart attack.

“Or maybe next time,” Sydney mutters, gently pushing you out of the way and shutting the door again. She leads you to one of the brown wooden tables where you settle again.

“Is he always like that?” you ask Sydney, actually glad that you’re not in the room where the storm’s currently happening.

“Only when he’s stressed,” Sydney explains shortly, an apologetic smile on her lips.

When it comes to money, it’s obvious The Bear doesn’t have much to spare, that much is clear. Sydney is extremely apologetic and sweet about it.

“There’s a marketing budget—previously non-existent—that we’ve set aside and can offer. It’s just not much, I’m afraid,” she tells you, jittery.

You want to reassure her, to tell her that you're doing it for Carmen, for an old "friend." But from what you've gathered, Sydney doesn't even know that Carmen knows you.

So you just smile and reassure her anyway. "I'll put it on my resume. I can use more cases with social media for hospitality," you lie.

Nodding, Sydney clarifies, "Yes, just Instagram. Please. Carmy doesn't want to put anything in the press. Yet."

When a curious Richie joins you at the table, you present the Instagram plan to both of them. Even though Richie can't help making a few rather stupid remarks that only he finds funny, they both listen carefully. You see a lot of skepticism on Richie's face, probably because he doesn't understand some of the big words, you guess, but Sydney seems to be really into everything from pictures of the food and the weekly specials, to quick reels showing potential customers a little bit of behind-the-scenes action.

"Oh, I'm sure Cousin will be thrilled to have people sticking their noses into his business," Richie says, and you're not sure how serious he is. But Sydney shushes him, and you carry on, showing her the mock-up of the possible Instagram feed to set the mood for the profile.

For the next three weeks, you go to The Bear twice a week to gather some content—photos and videos. You talk to the crew and film those who are okay with it. Your presence is met with mixed emotions, but Sydney's gratitude and kindness make up for every suspicious glare and exasperated sigh when you find yourself in someone's way. Besides the restaurant, you take your neighbor's dog for a long walk every Saturday morning, call your mom and dad to check in, scroll Instagram instead of finally starting an actual book, and often wonder why Carmen is so hostile towards you.

Generally, you try not to hang out in the kitchen directly, especially not when Chef Carmen is present. Being uncomfortable in a new environment makes you positively anxious, causing you to go through a whole pack of your favorite cinnamon Simply Gums a day.

You also remember to always tie your hair up—not that the staff there wear hairnets or anything, but you don't want Carmen to find another reason to frown at you. He's been basically only frowning or ignoring you. Hard to tell which one is worse.

You always clean your hands super thoroughly, like during COVID, singing the "Happy Birthday" song to time it before daring to even stick your finger in the restaurant. Sydney offers you an apron to protect your work clothes, which you refuse. You sense from some people there that you're not entirely welcome.

But the more you avoid Carmen, the more likely you are to bump into him. You know Murphy's Law. So one morning, he just appears from around the corner, carrying a tray of mushrooms.

For a second, you're actually horrified that he's going to introduce himself. Before that can happen, you blurt out, "Uh—do you remember me? Copenhagen?"

Carmen stops and looks at you, wiping his wet hands on the towel attached to the string of his white apron. "Yeah," he confirms, "yeah, I do." He says your name, all soft and correct, along with your surname, and with his eyes fixed on you, you're frozen to the spot, affected whether you like it or not. Then he leaves to taste Tina's roasted peppers.

Obviously, your mind can't let the episode slip away. As you type copy for the upcoming Instagram posts, you pause every so often to cringe at how embarrassing you behaved. Of course, he remembers you, for fuck's sake! You're working in his restaurant—kinda.

"Hey! Copenhagen! You wanna see this?" Carmen yells a bit later from the other side of the kitchen, and you falter, deciding whether you're really going to answer to him calling you that.

You bite your tongue and trail hesitantly to the station where Carmen is with Tina and Ebraheim, gathered around a saucepan.

"Tina, chef, this is excellent. Well done," Carmen says to her as you approach, then turns to you.

"This is what we wanna share with the world. Perfect red pepper sauce. Simple but delicious."

"Okay," you respond, taking in the expectant way all three of them are looking at you. Like you're some kind of magician. Or a fraud.

"Just," Carmen adds before he sets off, "no recipes leave this kitchen," and he waits for you to confirm.

"Right."

Slowly, you start to question why you're helping The Bear. Is it because two years ago you thought of Carmen and what you might have felt for him? What could have been? More than the chef himself, you find yourself growing fond of the place and the employees—some of them! Seeing the Instagram followers number increase fills you with pride and satisfaction. Fuck Carmen.

---

Mornings are usually the only time when Carmen isn’t around, and you try to time your visits so your paths don’t cross.

Wanting to snap photos of the new tableware and make a quick, fun video reel, you head into the kitchen. There's no one around—Sweeps is probably hiding somewhere, and Sydney might be in the office. Not wanting to bother anyone, you set your always-heavy handbag on a chair and start looking for everything you need. There's no reason for you to feel like you're sneaking around, but you can't help feeling nervous. That’s when your clumsiness strikes, and you manage to knock over a glass of water. Rolling your eyes, you get on your hands and knees to wipe the spilled water with a rug that you hope is meant for cleaning, as you’re very aware of every item having its particular function here.

You straighten up and stretch to get one more plate from the shelf. Then you lose your footing on the still-wet tiles. Your foot slips, and the top plate falls to the countertop with a loud cracking noise. You react quickly, trying to break the fall, but there's no use. The plate shatters to pieces.

Of course, it’s Carmen himself who emerges from the door leading to the office, and you wince—both physically and mentally—preparing yourself for a very unpleasant collision.

“What’s going on?” he asks as he approaches you, eyebrows pinched. He’s not wearing his chef whites, just a simple white t-shirt and dark jeans.

“Sorry, I—” you start apologizing as Carmen stands next to you, assessing the damage.

“What—what’re you doing here?” he asks in a very flat voice, staring at the pieces of ceramic.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to tidy this and also pay for the plate, obviously,” you ramble, reaching down for the shards.

“Don’t,” Carmy barks, stopping you by grabbing your shaking hands in his. His hands are big, the tattoos making them look harsh and crude, even though the touch is gentle. “Don’t cut yourself,” he adds quietly, holding you until you relax your arms and then a second longer.

He must sense your nervousness. “It’s fine, I’ll get it,” Carmen assures you, catching your eye. “Hey,” he lays a soft hand on your arm, “step away, I’ll clean this.”

Nodding, you step back and wait patiently, disconcerted, watching as Carmen carefully handles and discards the shards, then checks the floor for any tiny fragments. He turns back to you.

“Are you okay?” he checks.

“Yeah.” And you’re more thrown off balance by having Carmen pay attention to you, all of a sudden, than by damaging the kitchen’s equipment.

He studies you for a moment, his face unreadable, and you’re the one to look away first. Which you hate, by the way.

“You wanna see some stuff I’ve been working on?”

“Sure,” you agree, taking a deep breath to relax further. “I’m sorry. The loud noise—” you wave your hand in the air vaguely, rolling your eyes at yourself. “Just scared the shit out of me, I guess,” you finish with an apologetic smile.

“You’re alright,” Carmen confirms and disappears for a bit. In the meantime, you have a small meltdown, shaking your head at yourself for being so, so very terribly lame. Luckily, before he returns with a tray of different dishes, you pull yourself together.

Carmen sets the tray down, revealing an array of colorful and sophisticated meals that instantly catch your curiosity.

“Any allergies?” he asks.

“Passion fruit—easily avoidable. Sometimes kiwi,” you list. “And grumpy chefs,” you add cheekily, feeling bold.

Carmen pauses. “I’m not grumpy. I’m focused.”

“You weren’t like this in Copenhagen,” you say softly, leaning a bit closer to him, your body language signaling that once you had been comfortable around each other.

“I’m more focused now,” Carmen retorts, stubborn and maybe a bit offended. “Back then I—uhm—I felt comfortable around you. It was easy.”

“And now?” you almost whisper.

But Carmen ignores the question, pushing the first bowl closer to you. “Here, taste this… or take a picture and then taste it.”

And you understand that the re-bonding is over.

---

Soon, you drop the habit of visiting the restaurant only in the mornings. One reason is that spending time with Carmen, talking to him or watching him cook and explain things, makes you late for work twice in a row. That usually never happens as you take pride in being on time at the office. You don’t work at The Bear for money, but you hardly think about it that way. When you decide to pop in during the morning, Carmen shares his deadly strong black coffee that he mills himself with you. It’s bitter but heavenly. Secretly, you like drinking it while chewing your favorite cinnamon gum, which somehow makes the taste even better—smoother and richer.

The second reason—you discover that Carmen is much calmer in the evenings after service. Less jittery, more relaxed. His blood flows slower, you think. His heart pumps with more ease. Sydney and he share thoughts and plans for the restaurant with you while you all sit at an empty table. It’s nice, you think, while watching Carmen’s hands play with a napkin. His hands are especially nice.

It’s Saturday and raining as you find yourself sitting in Gordon Ramsay's Burger. Nothing could’ve surprised you more than Carmen asking you to go out eat together. Had he felt bad for ignoring you at the beginning? You’re watching the rivers of raindrops on the big glass window, waiting for Carmen. As usual, you’re ten minutes early, and after you order a Life’s a Beach, the first thing on your mind is you're just early, he didn't stand you up, and then: this is not a date, babe! Which instantly startles you into sitting up straight and looking around, as if someone could see your embarrassing thoughts. Why are you even thinking about this?? Then Carmen arrives, wet patches on his shoulders and jeans that cling to his thighs. He chooses the Chicago hot dog and three different burgers with a bunch of sides. While he only nibbles on them and writes down notes on his phone, you feel bad for wasting the food and eat more than you should. Carmen studies the buns very carefully and asks you a lot of questions about the food, some of which you find amusing and actually—endearing. When you go to bed that night, your belly’s uncomfortably full. You dream that you’re pregnant and about to go into labor, and you’re pretty sure that Carmen’s the father. And, honestly, do you need a book of dreams to explain the meaning? Fuck.

---

All goes to hell next week when Carmen sees you eating a sandwich from the corner shop down the street. Instead of having your regular lunch with Becky, you’ve chosen to run to The Bear so you could see Marcus unveil his new dessert. But before that, you popped into the nearby deli to order a mozzarella and sundried tomato sandwich. No one at The Bear had ever explicitly invited you to the family meal, and you would never dare to have free food there. But the way Carmen looks at you while you sit on the step by the back exit, eating the rather dry sandwich, is indescribable. The stern look on his face is back, with a closed-off facade. His eyes are cold. Before you take it all in, you wave at him awkwardly, chewing. Carmen retreats back inside wordlessly, leaving you confused and a little hurt.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere surrounding you doesn’t improve when you return to work, the stupid sandwich sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone. You have a big argument in the meeting room while planning the next month's issue. Then one of your co-workers makes a nasty remark about your single life. The afternoon drags on painfully slowly, which forces you to message your cousin—an astrologist extraordinaire—to check what the heck is going on with the universe.

Tuesday morning is rough. The second you wake up, you know you’ve overslept because you never get up without the alarm ringing angrily. A single glance at your phone proves it to be true. Right after, you notice three missed calls from Sydney and two from Nat. There are no text messages, though.

At first, you intend to call Rob to beg for a home office day, something you rarely ever use. But as soon as you check your calendar, you’re reminded of the big conference happening from 11 a.m. until 5 p.m. You rush to work, finishing your makeup on the train, then enter the office building to quickly run through notes with your colleagues. The first time you have a chance to make a quick phone call is when you finally go to the bathroom. It’s Natalie who you manage to reach first, as the lunch rush at The Bear is just unfolding. Over the cries of Natalie’s baby, you hear half-sentences about a recipe, Carmen, and a leak. It’s hard to put it all together. At 4 p.m., Nat finally sends you a text. It says: “Recipe’s published in Taste of Home. Carm’s mad. Says someone leaked it.”

It contains a link to the Taste of Home website, with Carmen’s perfect Berkswell Pudding recipe in the Top Recipes of the Week, marked “Chef’s tip.” You check it again to make sure, and surely—it’s one of the dishes Carmen introduced to you just last week. You didn’t dare to photograph it, much less taste it. You remember concentrating on the way his lips moved when he explained the preparation process, not much on the cooking itself.

What’s clear to you is that the "Someone" from Nat’s message is actually you.

A gloomy dread settles in your stomach as the meeting goes on and on. You barely pay attention, which makes everything even worse. You’re scared of what’s happened in the restaurant, and you’re worried that you’re going to miss something important in the meeting.

When you run for a second quick bathroom break, instead of peeing, you think of your next step. You could try to call everyone in the restaurant, try to find out what the hell is going on. But you don’t want to be seen as hysterical. You check Instagram and possible messages to find traces of a catastrophe. There’s nothing. Again, you open the website with the recipe. The photos are pretty sloppy, definitely not something Carmen would prepare. As you check the ingredients, you notice there are some major differences from Carmen’s dish. All in all, the only thing that stops you from texting Carmen is your pride. And true fear.

Absolutely dreading facing Carmen, you make it to The Bear during dinner time. Which, obviously, is the worst possible timing. You’re only praying that he’s not in the kitchen but hiding in his office, deep in paperwork.

It’s Sydney who you meet first as you sneak into the restaurant through the back door. She grabs your arm.

“Don’t go to talk to him now! He’s in a really, really bad mood. Natalie and I were trying to call you.” There’s genuine worry on Sydney’s face, her eyes big and honest.

“I don’t understand what happened,” you frown. You can feel a headache approaching from the intense day in the office. “I think he should tell me himself if there’s a problem.”

“I’ve been trying to work it out with him, to explain—”

“Explain what?” you question, more sternly than you usually are around Syd.

She falters. “It’s just this stupid thing—and we love having you—don’t let Carmy upset you,” Sydney half-explains. It doesn’t make much sense, and you shake your head, heading to the office. You’re more mad than afraid now.

You don’t wait for an invite after you knock shortly. Closing the door behind you, you find Carmen leaning against the desk, a bottle of water in his hand.

Everything inside of you drops the second he lays his eyes on you. There’s no doubt he’s angry.

“Didn’t Natalie tell you you don’t have to come here again?” Carmen asks curtly. “I’m surprised you think it’s okay to be here.”

Not expecting Carmen to be this harsh from the beginning, you swallow instead of answering.

“I hope that you’re happy now,” he says meanly, putting the bottle down on the desk.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you croak out, sincerely meaning it.

Carmen straightens up, watching you like a feline. “The recipe. It’s out. One fucking thing I asked not to get out, and now the whole of America can see and fucking even cook it at home.”

You’re frozen to the spot. From the very beginning, you knew that Carmen is not a person to mess with, hoping that you would never experience his anger directed at you. Now it’s happening.

You want to say something about no one being able to cook the way he does, but it’s pointless. Instead, you’re fighting off the flush on your face from embarrassment. You feel like a child being scolded, but you don’t want to look like one.

The muted but still loud kitchen noises bleed through the closed door. A shout, clattering. Not loud enough to stop Carmen from piercing you through and through with his ice-cold eyes.

“I promise I didn’t do anything like that,” you say, desperately wanting the chef to believe you. “I swear!”

Carmen pinches the bridge of his nose, one hand propped on his waist. You wait, breathless, for his next move, scared to death. The shirt you have on is wet with your sweat. The really badly smelling kind—the one your body produces when you’re stressed or scared. And you’ve been stressed since the very morning. You flinch when you move your arm and the odor hits your nose, hoping that Carmen can’t smell you. You would be mortified. The strap of your tote bag is digging into your shoulder painfully, but you don’t dare to move to put it down to relieve your arm.

“This all doesn’t—it doesn’t make any sense,” Carmen starts pacing, looking down at the floor and not at you anymore. You’re not sure if it’s better this way. “You come here, wanna do a fucking interview with me, or some shit, then you show up again—this time wanting to work here. For free! So, please, tell me—how does it sound, huh?”

Petrified, you realize how exactly it all sounds. When Carmen says it like this, it makes you look like a fraud. Like a terrible, terrible person. A liar. Your mind goes weeks back, back to the moment you actually thought of maybe digging some scoop in here, maybe convincing Carmen to do the interview after all. But it’s far from how he’s making the situation sound.

“Carmen,” you start without knowing what you want to say. Carmen’s stopped walking around the tiny office like a caged animal, and he’s again looking at you. There’s so much tension in his face, back hunched. “It sounds bad, but may I explain—”

“You may not,” he cuts you off briskly. His neck—normally a place you find sexy—is all red, and the thick vein there is getting more and more prominent by the second. “No one fucks with my business, you understand?” Oh—and he’s shouting now.

The natural defense, you didn’t know existed, is to make yourself smaller. Somehow, anyhow. You hang your head, avoiding looking at his face. You just can’t meet his eyes, even though Carmen’s bowing and tilting his head to force you to.

“It’s like I have to start asking the staff to sign an NDA,” he carries on.

Carmen’s getting slowly closer and closer to you, pushing you against the wall by the door. He’s not touching you but only because you’re not allowing it. You’re sick with humiliation. Lost for words, probably for the first time in your life.

“—and Nat fucking leaves me here—us, all of us—and that’s just not fair. I would expect so, so much more from my sister. Not that my brother was much better,” he chuckles humorlessly, but you see it’s more like an effort to catch his breath. “Lousy fuckers… Do you think you do your job well here, chef?”

He’s scaring you now. The hair by his temples and above his forehead is damp, and his gesticulation is wild and weird.

“Do we disgust you here, is that right, hm?” Carmen probably finally sees your frightened expression because he adds, “Why would you buy food somewhere else and then come here to eat it?!” You understand that he’s referring to the day he saw you eating the sandwich by the rear exit. Unsure whether he expects you to reply, you decide to stay quiet. Your knees are starting to shake, from exhaustion after the long day and perhaps, from Carmen’s current behavior.

“It made ME sick,” he says, his face just inches from yours when one of his hands slams into the thin wall right next to your head. The noise echoes in the room, and you’re desperately hoping it’s not loud enough for the others to hear from outside. You would die on the spot if they knew what’s going on here.

“Who do you think you are?” Carmen shouts some more, loud, by your ear. It vibrates through you and never stops. You’re shivering all over, you notice. It’s not okay, not okay!

At last, you raise your head, chin jutting out. “No one’s going to talk to me like this. No one,” you spit out in the chef’s face, taking him by surprise. “Don’t you ever shout at me again,” and you jab him right in the middle of his chest, instead of punching him there like he deserves.

When you’re leaving his office and rushing to the back exit, you hear Carmen yelling.

Everything feels tense and your hands are shaking. Your jaw is set so hard your teeth could crush from the pressure. The fresh air hits your face, and you focus on breathing deeply through your nose. The sounds remind you of a steam engine. You walk for about a minute, mind blank with the shock. Only when you turn a corner do you allow yourself to stop, which causes the first tears to fall. You’re so mad at yourself. Why the fuck are you crying?! There’s so much frustration in the crazy mixture of emotions you’re feeling. You’re completely overwhelmed with it, not knowing what to focus on at first.

Out of habit, you look for your phone in your handbag to check the screen. The fucking heavy bag that’s been killing your shoulder. Frustrated, you let it slide off your arm and down to the sidewalk. You don’t even care if it breaks, as it lands with a noisy, dull sound. It had been years since you got properly yelled at, and you’re angry that it affects you this much. You promise yourself to take a few seconds here, in the middle of an empty street, then call a cab. At home, you can cry.

PART II

#here it is! i can't quite believe that it's happening #the bear #fic #my fic #carmen berzatto x the reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto fic #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you

152 notes · View notes