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sapphicvqmpires · 1 year

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❁ཻུ۪۪♡ seven wonders

Pairing - shuri x black!fem reader

Word Count - 7.3k

Contains - smut (18+), soft!dom shuri, sub!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, tribbing, edging, choking/breathplay, overstimulation, clit play, shuri is a tease, praise kink, fluff

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - “What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @imjusthere2readbruv @desswright29 @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @garden-of-venus @tiii-iiiiii @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @ririslove @marsolgy @shaiwritesss @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther (comment if you wanna be tagged in future fics, 18+ please)

Song Inspiration - another heartbreak: giveon, pov: ariana grande (readers pov), favorite song: toosii, reflections: dustystaytrue ft. toosii (shuri’s pov)

Writers Note: this fic is me self projecting in both of these characters. I just wanna love and be loved. This fic lowkey kicked my ass, why is writing fluff lowkey hard?? But shuri loves her baby girl so much in this one like whew, I need herrr. Anyways, as always, I hope you all enjoy my lovessss :)

♪ ༘⋆ Tears don’t fall when you’re right here, Perfect for me that’s my fear ♪ ༘⋆ (another heartbreak - giveon)

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ The evening is nothing short of perfect, sitting on a rooftop in Rio de Janeiro while the sun sets in the distance, a perfect image of the panoramic painting you sat in. Vibrant hues surrounded you as you sat in front of a small circular table that came alive with the flickering glow of candle light, a vibrant bouquet of exotic flowers and the fresh aroma of Brazilian cuisine. There were the sweet sounds of Bossa Nova playing in the distance, mixing in with the gentle rhythm of waves that settled in the not too far shore. To complete the picturesque view is what you were in this city for in the first place: the Christ the Redeemer Statue.

It was at this very moment that you found yourself at the final stop of your trip around the world. It was a trip orchestrated by your beloved girlfriend, Shuri, who cherished you deeply and wanted to show you what beauty the world had to offer. You had visited the Seven Wonders, each destination bringing you that much closer to the true joy you deserved. Shuri understood that before her arrival, you did not get out much. Not because you had no desire, not because you didn’t have the funds to, but because you simply had no one to share the world with. Life has presented you with hardships, constructing barriers that made you wary of the genuine splendor life had to offer. It obscured your understanding of what love truly entailed, as your past relationships, be they platonic or romantic, introduced individuals who made you question your self-worth. However, once again, you found yourself on a rooftop, accompanied by your girlfriend who quite literally gave you the world, even within the few fleeting months you two had spent together. Her love for you surpassed any other person you had encountered, and it was precisely all of this that frightened you.

“What’s on your mind, sthandwa sam?” Her voice held a gentle quality, infused with a subtle rasp that made you dizzy. It was flawless. Almost unnaturally flawless.

“Kwenzeka ntoni kula ntloko yakho intle?” (“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”)

Being with Shuri was the most transparent you had ever been. She consistently motivated you to express yourself fully, urging you to share your emotions openly and honestly. She possessed a deep understanding of your thoughts and the fears that were buried in your heart, which often hindered your ability to fully embrace the love she shared with you. Nonetheless, Shuri loved and respected you unconditionally. She yearned to hear your emotional release, offering her unwavering support to catch and discard them, surpassing any previous support you had ever received. She aspired to be there for you, her princess, in ways that no one else had ever been. And this is why it wasn’t terribly challenging to open up to her.

“Shuri, you know what I’m thinking.”

“I know, nkosazana, but I wanna hear you say it. Thetha nam ndimamele.” (“Speak to me and I’ll listen.”)

“Shuri-”

“Please, y/n. Please.”

You observe her, appreciating the exquisite features that decorated her face. She was so beautiful, so full of love in a body that has also been through pain and suffering. Shuri intimately understands the harsh realities of life, having experienced her own share of adversity. That's precisely why she gently encourages you to release the emotions you've kept bottled up. Her intention is never to cause discomfort or obligate you to share your past traumas. Rather, she seeks to help you acknowledge and process the feelings your mind and body are urging you to confront, enabling you to progress forward.

You bask in her warm glance for a few moments longer before you softly exhale, preparing your heart for what’s to come.

“It’s just a lot, Shuri. Not in a bad way. It’s never in a bad way when it comes to you. You’re so perfect, your love is overflowing and shit. It’s just…I’m just…”

“Yitsho.” (Say it.)

You sigh.

“Shuri, I-I just…”

Shuri notices your struggle, the way your voice breaks off and she immediately runs to your side, placing a kiss on your forehead before she lowers herself on one knee in front of you. She takes your hands, running her soft lips against your knuckles and you could cry. You loved her so much and it scared the shit out of you that you knew she deeply loved you too.

“I’m scared, Shuri.”

“Mhmm. Keep going, my love, I’m right here. Let it out.”

“I’m scared that…” Your voice gradually faded with your words becoming entangled in your throat, making it harder to breathe. You took a brief pause, collecting your thoughts so that they could flow effortlessly from your lips. “I’m scared that one day you’re gonna look at me and not love what you see anymore.”

You stopped there, curious as to what kind of response she would give you. But of course, she only encouraged you to proceed.

“You’re doing so good, y/n. Keep going…I know there’s more in that big heart of yours.”

You let out another sigh, not born out of annoyance or frustration, but rather a sigh of relief.

“I’m just worried that one day you’re gonna get tired of me, that I’m going to be…I don’t know…I guess just too much. To be fair, I am kinda a lot to be around…I-I understand that I’m not the easiest person to love, and that I can be a handful…”

You were on the verge of tears, but you didn’t allow them to escape you just yet. “I’m just scared you’re gonna get tired of me and I’m just not sure I can handle that, Shuri.”

“Mmm,” Shuri hummed, not once taking her gaze off yours as she continued to kneel in front of you. She brought your hands in for a kiss, loving lips attaching themselves to your soft, brown skin. She lifts herself up to reach your forehead, placing one last kiss before she speaks.

“You know why I chose you, y/n?”

You shake your head, unable to speak in fear that your emotions might overwhelm you and you did not want to ruin this perfect evening with Shuri more than you already felt you had. Shuri lets out a soft chuckle, her pearly teeth revealed through a crooked grin that placed butterflies in the depths of your stomach.

“It’s actually quite simple, nkosazana. I chose you because I love you. I love everything about you. I love your dimples when you smile, and those beautiful eyes, sthandwa. I love your body, everything about it is perfect. Your stomach, your thighs…what’s in between your thighs-“

“Shuri, you’re just talking about my body--”

“Ssshhh, I’m not done. I love your sense of humor, how you’re always laughing and it makes me laugh. Puts a smile to my face when I have no smile to offer. I love your strength and your capability to love even though the world has not been so kind to you. I love your creativity and how artistic you are, it balances me out because you know I love my science. It's nice to have an artist to level the plane. I love your beautiful dark skin and all its simplicities and complexities. I love how you encourage me to be my best, and you push me to be better, for you but most importantly for myself…”

“Shuri…”

“Wait, sthandwa, I have more to say. When…when I lost my brother, I felt as if the world came crashing down on me…he was my favorite person to be around and when he was gone…there was just…nothing…”

Her voice started to falter, unveiling the enduring pain that Shuri carries within herself each day, concealed by the smile she presents to you. A solitary teardrop escaped from her eye, though she hastily wiped it away. She wasn't prepared to break just yet, and neither were you.

“Shuri, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“I want to…and I need to. And you need to hear it.”

You offer a tender smile, conveying to Shuri that everything would be alright. Shuri breathes in, lightly grazing her lips against your hands before proceeding.

“And then…when my mother died…I just…”

“Shuri-”

“I had no will to live anymore because what was the point? I had no one. Nothing. Until…until you.”

You choked down a sob, one that would undoubtedly have torn through your entire being had you let it fully consume you.

“You reminded me of what it is to be happy, to laugh, like genuinely laugh…haven’t done that since my brother, I almost forgot what it felt like. You showed me that there’s so much more to live for, so much the world has to offer and I wouldn’t have it any other way, nkosazana.”

You offer a subtle nod, tears streaming down your face with an unrestrained flow, and this time you permit it. She was utterly flawless, an exquisite fusion of affection and happiness, seamlessly mending the shattered fragments of your own existence. Her embrace provided solace, her gaze offered a sense of security, and there was no place in the world you'd prefer to be at this very moment, and no one else you'd rather be with.

“Umhle kakhulu, y/n,” ("I love you, y/n”) she says with one last kiss before she stands, gesturing to you to stand as well. She pulls you into her embrace, a hug that engulfs every fiber of your being, immersing you in the warmth emanating from her body and permeating back into yours. She placed a firm kiss onto your forehead before you pressed your face into her chest, allowing gentle tears to cascade down your cheeks and onto the fabric of her shirt. Yet, she doesn't mind. She wanted to catch every single droplet that escaped you and tuck them away so you were no longer burdened by fears that weren’t truly there. She hated that you felt scared, apprehensive about the future and the uncertainties it holds, because she will never abandon you. She needs you just as much as you need her. Perhaps even more so.

She cupped your face in the palm of your hands, looking down at puffy eyes and puffy lips as you sniffled.

“You’re literally so beautiful, y/n,” she promises, pressing a kiss into your nose. “Just pour it out, let yourself feel the things you feel, my love. You have to let it out, y/n. Do you understand me?”

You nod, your lips forming a pout before more tears fell from her words.

“I’m not saying you have to explain things when you don’t feel like it. But what I am saying is I am your partner, your girlfriend and I’m here for you. I love you. And I want you to know that I love you, more than anything or anyone else in the world, and that I need you just as bad.”

If you hadn't been a tearful wreck before, you most certainly were now. Cheeks marked with traces of tears remained within Shuri's grasp as you drew her closer for another kiss.

“That’s it, y/n. Just let it out…I’m right here. Ndizohlala ndilapha.” (I’ll always be right here.”)

“I love you so so much, Shuri,” you promise, your voice broken from the lump in your throat.

“You know what the best part of this trip was, sthandwa sam?”

“Hmmm, what could that be, baby?”

A beautiful smile adorned her face as she lifted you up and twirled you around, dancing on a rooftop while your laughter echoed with genuine delight. She sat down on the chair, bringing you into her lap as you straddled her, holding her like it was your last time.

“We may have just traveled the world and its most exquisite landmarks, but you…you were my favorite part. No building or ancient structure is as beautiful and strong as my girl.”

The smile that graced your face was a sight of pure bliss in Shuri's eyes, as she cherished nothing more than the radiance of your beautiful smile. She buries her face in the nape of your neck, gently pressing her lips against your firm yet sensitive skin.

“Every morning I woke up next to you…every dinner I shared with you…every night I had my way with you…”

With each declaration, her kisses grew more fervent, targeting the places she knew weakened you. You wrapped your arms around her neck, fully embracing how much she rendered you powerless through every movement she made and every word she spoke. She was addicting, all consuming, fogging each and everyone of your senses but your pounding heart was a reminder as to where exactly you were.

“Shuri…we-we’re on a public rooftop,” you stuttered, trembling beneath her passionate kisses as you struggled to contain the pulse that found its way between your thighs.

“No one is coming. I made sure of that,” she replies, her face still sunken into your neck as she begins lifting your dress up to bunch around your waist. The light pulsing between your thighs transitioned to heavy throbbing, as melanated bodies grew more eager to feel one another.

“Let me know if you’re ok, y/n,” Shuri says, wanting to make sure that your head and heart is in the right place to proceed with her intimacy. You were more than ok, because even though your heart was often troubled and your mind was in constant battle, your body was always willing to receive whatever obstacle Shuri would give you.

“I’m ok, Shuri,” you reply desperately, slowly grinding your crotch in her lap. Shuri notices this, wasting no time in cupping your saturated cunt, casually stroking you over the thin lace of your panties. It was torturous, how close yet so far she was from where you needed her.

“Shuri,” you whined, a wounded sound that made Shuri smile.

“That’s it, sthandwa. Yilangazelele.” (That’s it, baby. Be desperate for it.”)

“Mmmm,” you moaned as she carefully pulled the fabric to the side, gliding her fingers through your folds, grazing your pulsing clit and it made you frantic. “Sh-Shuri.”

Her strokes came to a halt as she pressed into your clit, a shocking sensation radiating through your thumping nerves.

“Show me how you do it,” she whispered into you.

“Hmm?” you moaned in question.

“Show me how you do it, my pretty girl. Rock on me. Be desperate for it.”

She gently caressed your clit for a few more beats before ceasing, signaling your cue. Gradually, you widen the space between your thighs, allowing her more room to tenderly touch your delicate clit with the pads of her fingers, exerting a firm pressure as you slowly but surely start to grind in response. She wanted to watch you work for it, observe your struggle as you ascended towards your own pleasure.

“Shuri, baby. Ah.”

The feeling was deeply fulfilling, your clit fluttering with each swipe as your soft moans pleased Shuri’s senses. A grin appeared on Shuri's lips as she observed how your pleasure radiated through your facial expressions. Your eyelids grow heavy, your eyebrows relaxed as your mouth falls open. The knot in your stomach tightened as your grinds became harder, your pussy getting louder as you soaked her fingers.

“Look at you go.”

“Unh.”

“Yeah that’s right,y/n. Mntana oyimtombazana.” (“Work for it.”)

“Shuri, unh..shit.”

Shuri gently grabs your throat, not enough to hinder your breathing but enough to get your attention. She entices you closer, pulling you in as she presses her lips to your ear, her words eliciting a shiver that surges through your body, infusing your pounding clit with waves of pleasure, as if it wasn’t already too much on your body.

“Such a needy little pussy, huh?”

“Mhmm. Yeah.”

“So slippery, nkosazana. All this just for me, yeah?”

“Yes, baby yes.”

It was absolutely sensational, her fingers coming in contact with your body as you rubbed against her created a knot in your stomach as the heat coursed through your legs and Shuri’s gaze remained on you, shifting from your pleasured face to your tired cunt.

“Your pussy is so pretty, look at how swollen you are…Bast.”

“Sh-Shuri,” you tremble, a warning that you were close. “I..I..I’m close. Mmm…uhn.”

“Hold it, sthandwa. I know you can.”

“B-but I can’t. I need to.”

“You can do it. Cuz you got no choice, my pretty girl. The most beautiful girl.”

Her carefully selected words seamlessly intertwined with your every gesture, engulfing you in a sensation that overwhelmed your mind and your pussy. The intensity compelled you to surrender, to embrace the fiery passion swirling within your core, while your pussy delicately throbbed.

“Shuri, stop talking like that…you’re gonna make me…f-fuck. Shit.”

“What is it, y/n? Can’t handle being my pretty princess?” She gained pleasure from teasing you, relishing in the sight of your blissful torment while you writhed on top of her, fighting hard to obey her and not cum until she let you. “Would you rather be my pretty slut?”

“Baby…please,” you begged.

“Mmmm,” she hummed low. “You can be both.”

“Shit,” you whined, unintentionally slowing your movements down to give your swollen clit a moment to wind down.

“Khange ndithi ungacotha. Qhubeka uhamba. Ndibonise ukuba ufuna embi kangakanani.” (I didn’t say you can slow down. Keep going. Show me how bad you want it.”)

“Shuri..I-I…”

As you were at the threshold, a few more swipes away from releasing onto her, she removed her fingers from you, a long sticky line connecting with her fingers until she drew them into her mouth, cleaning them dry as she kept her eyes on you.

“Wh-why did you do that?,” you struggled to say as your impending orgasm remained trapped between your legs, so close to being released from your body before she denied you. Shuri chuckles before kissing your cheek, still tear-stained from earlier.

“Ssshh, my love. You’ll get it soon. Don’t worry.”

Gently raising you from her lap, she clasped your hand as the two of you headed back to your hotel room. Your tense pussy nerves made walking a challenge, causing you to falter occasionally, but Shuri guided you every step of the way.

♪ ༘⋆ You love my lips ‘cause they say the things we’ve always been afraid of, I can feel it starting to subside, learning to believe in what is mine ♪ ༘⋆ (pov - ariana grande)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Oh my god, Shuri!" you exclaim, caught off guard, as Shuri effortlessly lifts you off the ground and twirls you around, cradling your body in her embrace as you walk down the hotel corridor. With a playful gesture, she plants several kisses on your cheek, eliciting another burst of laughter from you. “Shuri, put me down!,” you manage to utter amidst your genuine laughter, even though your plea for her to let you go was anything but.

“Absolutely not, nkoszana,” she teases, spinning you once more before you make it to your hotel door. It was then Shuri placed you down, trapping you between the door and her body as her mouth traveled back to that sweet spot on your neck. Your hand made its way to the back of her head, gently grasping her soft curls as her passionate kisses milk a moan off your lips. Her hands creep down your body, caressing your curves before her fingers slowly find their way between your legs again, causing your knees to give out for a split second as you were still sore from your unreleased orgasm.

“Wait-Shuri…shit.”

The instant her fingers stroke you over the drenched material, a familiar sensation stirs within you, beckoning your orgasm to well up once more, eager to escape from your body.

“Shuri…please.”

“Hmmm?”

“Shuri…I…inside please, let’s go inside?”

She lifted her face from your neck, her hungry eyes meeting your pained ones as she continued her assault on your pussy. She dips her ring and middle finger beneath the fabric, coming in pure contact with your swollen clit once again, sending an electric pulse swimming through your aching cunt.

“Shuri-ah!,” you moaned loudly, most likely audible to anyone that may have been occupying any other of the hotel rooms. Shuri lifted a finger to your lip, a gesture that told you to keep quiet.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, struggling to keep your heavy moans at bay.

“It’s ok, sthandwa, you’re ok. Let’s go inside now, yeah?”

You nodded, the only response you could give because if you dare to speak, coherent words would not fall out. Shuri only smirked at you, opening the door before lifting you up once again, shutting the door behind her aggressively while the two of you passionately kissed until your back gently pressed onto the bed.

Shuri was delicate in removing your dress from your body, gliding the zipper downwards and gracefully allowing the slender straps to slip off your shoulders. Your panties, she was not so gentle with, hooking her fingers underneath the lace that hugged your hips and tearing them, causing a whine to escape your lips.

“Shuri!”

“I’ll get you another pair, my love, do not worry.”

You yearned one another intensely, craving Shuri's touch with a deep hunger, and she desired you just as deep. For a moment, she got off the bed, allowing herself to become entranced with the way your slick glistened your inner thighs, doing all this as she unbuttoned her dress shirt and rolled up her sleeves, her small gold chain crystalline against her ebony skin. She was so beautiful and the sight of her only heightened your arousal, your core pulsing beneath her gaze.

Shuri got on the bed, resting herself on the headboard before motioning you to sit on her lap and you oblige, spreading your legs over hers as your pussy lingered above her crotch. She wasted no time sinking her eager fingers through your folds, her digits getting lost in your thick, swollen pussy as you feel the coolness of her rings up against you. She occasionally brushes over your clit and you flinch every time, still sensitive from her lingering touch.

“Shuri, stop playing baby,” you whine, completely unashamed of how needy your plea sounds.

“Where do you want me?”

“Inside…pl-please?”

“Mhmm….” Shuri pressed into your clit once more, pushing loving circles into you before she made her way down to your clenching hole. You were drenched, desperate for her touch but Shuri desired to savor this moment as if it were a rare occurrence, aiming to reaffirm that you were more than what others perceived you to be because in her eyes, you meant everything and even more.

She traced her fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your pussy chased after her in desperation. The relentless teasing she subjected you to was unbearable, driving you to the edge of exhaustion as your impatience mounted, begging her to put an end to it.

“Shuri, pleeease.”

With a sly expression, Shuri's crooked grin compliments her fingers as they firmly dig into you, using her free hand to guide your body onto her as if you were sitting onto her strap. She continuously pushes into you until her knuckles kiss your pussy lips, Shuri’s fingers are well acquainted with your body, swiftly linking the pads with that special spot inside you that makes your pussy walls convulse violently, prompting you to bury your head into her as you moan into her shoulder.

“Oh yes, Shuri, unh.”

“I want you to bounce, nkosazana. Ride me like you ride my dick.”

With her words infused with the depth in her tone, it provided all the motivation you required. A shiver rushed down your spine, intertwining with the shiver that surged through your pussy walls, instantly targeting your g-spot as you milked Shuri’s fingers.

Raising your head from her shoulder, you met her gaze fixed not on your eyes but on your body, observing every reaction you had to her touch. The way your breasts bounced frantically in tempo with her thrusts, and the way your pussy lips swelled from the stimulation made it evident just how much you desired her and how eager you were to surrender to the woman below you. Shuri brought her lips to your face, her eyebrows scrunched together as she planted fervent kisses on your temple before softly whispering words of reassurance into your ear, causing your walls to clench around her with urgency.

“Injalo, ntombi yam entle. Yileqe.” (“That’s right, my pretty girl. Chase it.”)

“Shuri, please.”

“Ukhangeleka umhle ngolu hlobo. Intle kakhulu xa uyinqwenela.” (“You look so pretty like this. So pretty when you’re desperate for it.”)

It’s moments like these where you’re thankful that you learned to speak Xhosa fluently, your mind becoming foggy with the native words that spill off of Shuri's tongue as her thrusts and your bounces simultaneously find each other in your g-spot. It was nothing short of pure bliss as your orgasm crept through you, the heat in your stomach igniting as your wet pussy echoed through the hotel room.

“Sh-Shuri…I’m gonna cum, Shuri.”

“Then do it.”

“Ah!”

For a few moments longer, Shuri showers you with praise, extolling your body and emphasizing how flawlessly your pussy compliments her, designed to take her and listen to her and this was all made clear with how her voice radiated through her next words, instantly pushing you to your orgasm.

“Cum, baby. Let this aching pussy have what she’s been begging for all night.”

And with her words, the pressure built to your breaking point as you released right onto her, oozing onto her hand and trailing down to her crotch. Your orgasm crashed through you wave after wave as Shuri continued to praise you through it, making promises of forever and how much she loves her pretty girl.

“Shuri, yeah,” you trembled, moans shattered and delicate, struggling to articulate thoughts while your mind and pussy absorbed everything.

"Ngokwenyani ungoyena mntu umhle ndakha ndambona. Ndifuna nje ukwenza ukuba ube cum ngokuphindaphindiweyo." ("You're literally the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I just wanna make you cum over and over again.")

“I..fuck.”

“Will you let me do that, y/n? Make you cum all the time? Whenever I please?”

You nod frantically, the pulse in your walls growing as Shuri continues to fuck you through it, switching between rubbing your clit and thrusting into you as you struggle to come down from your blissful state.

“Fuck, I love you,” she mumbles, repositioning you so your on your back, almost unaware of where you were but you snapped back to reality as you feel Shuri spread your legs open and place her mouth inbetween them, grazing her lips over your still sensitive clit and your whole body spasmed at her touch, absolutely fragile from your lingering orgasm.

“W-wait Shuri…I can’t…please,” you whimper, placing your hand over your aching pussy.

“Yihambise.” (“Move it.”)

“Baby…I-I…”

“Y/n…I said move it.”

You shake your head from side to side in protest, your face contorting in a mix of desperation and fatigue as your delicate pussy continues its rhythmic throb. Shuri removes herself from between your thighs, leaning forward to meet your gaze as she gently pinches your chin to redirect your attention to her. Cradling the back of your head, she holds you close, her light chain dangling inches from your face.

“There isn’t a woman in the world as strong as my baby girl. You can take anything. I promise. Do you understand me?”

You vigorously nod and she chuckles at the sight of your vulnerability, noticing how your responses have been reduced to mere head gestures, as you grapple to form coherent sentences.

“I know what your pussy needs, and from the way you’re still leaking onto these sheets like a slut, I know she wants more. Am I right?”

Another nod.

“Uze ube yintombazana elungileyo kum, nkosazana, wenze le nto ndiyithethayo. Hambisa isandla sakho.” (“Then be a good girl for me, princess, and do what I say. Move your hand.”)

You hesitated at first before you obeyed her words. You removed your hand from the heat between your thighs, revealing your pussy that continued to drip for her. Your pussy lips were puffy, your clit enlarged as you opened your legs wider for Shuris devour and she practically salivated at the sight of you before she dove into her meal with one flat lick through your folds. Instantly, your hand gravitates to your pussy again but Shuri lightly pushes it out the way, allowing nothing to get between her and what belongs to her.

“Ungakhe ucinge ngayo.” (“Don’t even think about it.”)

Finally, she takes your clit into the swells of her lips, pulling you into her mouth as she sucked and slurped both in and around you. Your legs rest on her shoulders, her hands hooked around your thighs, your toes perfectly pointed. It was overwhelming, her mouth on you as she moaned into your pussy and connected her gaze with yours. You brought your hand to gently fist her curls, using them as a handle to grind down on her tongue.

“Shuri, oh my god, baby yes,”

“Take it easy, sthandwa. I don’t want you cumming just yet.”

“Oh…okay…fuck.”

The squelch of your pussy resonated loudly, wet lips meeting wet lips as you sensed your impending climax. Your stomach started to twist into knots, the soles of your feet and palms of your hands tingle while your pussy hole tightened. You weren’t certain with how much longer you could keep it in as Shuri’s tongue work seemed to intensify, causing your cunt to clench repeatedly.

“Baby…I’m gonna-you’re gonna make me-”

Once again, Shuri moaned into your pussy, a sound that added to your already soaked cunt before reluctantly letting go. The physical and mental turmoil of nearing the threshold, only to be abruptly pulled away was agonizing. But Shuri had a different plan for the both of you. She wanted to experience your body entirely, to witness your release directly onto her as your body completely unraveled and understood that you belonged to her and it will remain so as long as you allow it.

She locks eyes with you while standing by the bed. With elegance and sexual frustration, she begins to unbutton the rest of her dress shirt, meticulously lifting the fabric from her body. Her perky breasts rest beautifully on her chest, her dark skin seemingly eager to intertwine with yours. As she begins to undo her belt buckle, you shift your position to sit at the edge of the bed in front of her, wanting to take over and complete the task yourself.

“Here baby, lemme take these off of you,” you plead. She nods in agreement, making room for you to complete the job. You earnestly unbuckle her belt, undoing each button one by one as you press your lips against the valley in her breasts. When her pants were undone, you slipped your hand beneath her boxers, your palm coming in direct contact with her dripping pussy and she took a sharp inhale as you glided through her folds.

“So wet just from tasting me,” you whispered with a smirk.

“Ndimanzi kuba ndikuthanda,” she replied. (“I’m wet because I love you.) She completely removes her pants and boxers from her body, standing before you fully bare in her petite yet toned body. “Lala phantsi ngenxa yam.” (“Lie back down for me.”)

In no time, Shuri grips your calf, guiding you into a perfect position where her pussy can meet yours. The moment she touches you, the instant her aching bud kisses yours, a surge of immediate pleasure overwhelms you, your jaw falling open as you sing soft melodies of praise meant for her ears only.

“Fuck baby.”

She embraces you, swaying back and forth until it feels like the entire universe is within your grasp. Your melanated skins meld as one, two feminine bodies intertwining to form the most exquisite shades of brown.

“Sh-Shuri, un-UNH.” Your moans escalated, becoming filthier by the second and you couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment with how easily aroused you became and so you bit your bottom lip to try and contain the shameful moans that sat in the pit of your throat. Shuri's face was concentrated, eyebrows furrowing as she was captivated by the sight of your puffy pussy on hers; concentrated on sloshing cores and the friction created below. But she was determined to hear you, reveling in your inability to keep quiet as she pleased you with her body. She allowed muffled moans and gentle whimpers to linger on for too long, fully aware that you wanted to completely unleash yourself. And she would make you.

“No, don’t do that.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t hold back.”

No matter how many times she saw you naked, how many times she’s fucked you into oblivion, you always became embarrassed with how effortlessly compliant your body was, how loud your mouth and your pussy desperately became.

“What’d I say about holding it in?”

You shake your head in defiance, struggling to muffle the pitiful moan welling up within you. It's almost as if you're testing her, curious to see how she'll respond and whether she'll get her way. Shuri doesn’t hesitate to snake her palm around your throat, almost in a loving manner as she grins. She presses lightly, again, not enough to hinder your breathing pattern but enough to get your attention on her.

“Answer me, princess. What’d I say about holding it in?”

“Y-you…fuck. You said n-not to,” you struggled to say amidst Shuri’s heavy grinding.

“Injalo, ntombi yam entle,” she responds (“That’s right, my pretty girl). Still, you resist her, intrigued to witness the depths of determination in your normally tender and affectionate Shuri, to see how far she'll go in pursuing her own desires. You feel the compression on your windpipe escalate much harder than it was, oxygen struggling to move down your throat and it makes you soak as you moan in unison with your guttural gasps. You clasp her wrist for support, a soft smile appearing on your face as you get lost in your dwindling breathing pattern.

“I…Shuri…AH!”

“That’s it, y/n. Pour it out, just like I said. Let yourself feel the things you feel. Let me give your pretty pussy what she deserves…shit.”

“UNH.”

“Nantso ke sthandwa sam, mandikuva.” (“That’s it my love, let me hear you.”)

Your pussy entrance clenched frantically, your used clit beating like rapid thunder as your orgasm awaited you. And it was no different for Shuri. It was written all over her face. The more she spoke, the more broken and disheveled her sentences became, her jaw twitching and abs contracting as she chased her own high, absolutely desperate to feel your pussy cum all over her palpitating clit.

“Sh…Shuri! Ooooo fuck baby…I-I’m gonna…”

“Do it. Flood m-me…unh.”

Both of your moans were messy, filling the air with cries of each others names as Shuri continued to fuck you with her drenched pussy. It was exhilarating, a rush of warmth that surged through your body, starting as a tight ball of heat in your sex and radiating outward. The thump between your dewy folds pulsed at a faltering rhythm, one beat upon another, as you felt Shuri's clit continuously twitching and teasing against you.

“Fuck, y/n. You make my pussy feel so g-good,” Shuri moaned, struggling to descend from her own state of bliss. And she was a sight to see. Her dark skin glistened with perspiration, the chain adhering to her body due to the sweat. Her curls were ruffled, their natural pattern still discernible but marred by the droplets of sweat that trickled down her forehead. And you could always tell how hard her orgasm was rushing through her body with the way her abs tightened and her jaw clenched, her pussy puffed out as her clit jolted with pleasure. Your girlfriend was ridiculously sexy and the way her body reacted to yours was a testament in itself with how much she loved you.

Before you were able to come back to earth, you felt one last lick up your folds and you shuddered violently forcing Shuri to grip your thighs tightly in order to keep you still. You were still so achy, pulsations still finding a way to decrease as Shuri pressed her mouth onto you, kissing your pussy lips like they’re the lips on your face.

“Ugqibelele kakhulu,” she hums into your cunt before licking your juices up (“You’re so perfect,”). “Intwana yakho igqibelele.” (“Your pussy is so perfect.”)

Another lick through your folds that makes you jolt and you consider trying to squirm out of her grasp but the sight of Shuri worshiping words of praise into your pussy in her native tongue is enough to let you keep her there.

"Ndifuna ukudlala kwi intwana yakho ngalo lonke ixesha.” (“I want to play in your pussy all the time.”)

“Ufuna ukwenza ukuba uze ngapha nangapha nangaphezulu kwakhona.” (“Wanna make you cum over and over and over again.”)

“Nanini na ndifuna.” (“Whenever I want.”)

"Kuba ndiyakuthanda." (“Because I love you.”)

“Intwana yam.” (“My pussy.)

“Umntwana wam oyintombazana.” (“My baby girl.”)

They were words of promise, words of desire as you cum once more. The waves of her husky voice surged through you as her mouth wrapped around your clit and you whimpered through your overwhelming orgasm, legs trembling as you trapped Shuri between the thickness of your dark thighs.

“Sh-Shuri…please. I-ah…I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know, baby.”

“Then…please.” You were shaking, completely overtaken by it all. “Please Shuri…I can’t.”

Shuri plants one last kiss onto your clit and you shudder, breasts and thick thighs jiggling one last time before Shuri removes herself from the heaven between them. You were her baby girl, her princess, her everything and she didn’t want you to feel anything less. She comes back up to face you, caressing your cheek as sleep crept through your mind.

“Y/n…are you able to wash up yourself?”

You nodded and Shuri smiled, proud of you.

“Then go do it, please. I’ll be out here waiting for you.”

“W-wait…why can’t we wash up together? We always do it together,” you pouted.

“Sshhhh,” she whispered, still caressing your beautiful face. “Kukanye nje, sthandwa sam. Ndiyacela." (“Just this once, my love. Please.”)

You hesitate, but nod, bringing her in for a kiss as you taste the remnants of your pleasure on Shuri’s lips.

“Good girl. Always my good girl.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♪ ༘⋆ Open up those gates to your heart, Only if you’ll let me ♪ ༘⋆ (favorite song - toosii)

After finishing your shower and changing into pajamas, you step out of the bathroom only to be greeted by a heartwarming sight that leaves you holding back tears. A trail of rose petals leads from the bathroom door to the neatly made hotel bed, where you and Shuri shared your intimate moment. Placed on the bed is a large stuffed panda bear, a thoughtful reminder that Shuri noticed your love for these creatures during your trip to China to visit The Great Wall. Right in front of the bear sits a beautifully wrapped box. Shuri's smile warms your heart, and you rush into her arms, straddling her with a passionate kiss. She changed into low waisted black joggers with a matching black crop top, showing off her sculpted body and toned arms as the subtle gold chain remained on her neck. She looked damn good.

“Baby, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Of course I did. You’re my girlfriend.”

“Shuri…”

“Sshhh, y/n, just open it.”

“But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Y/n…I don’t get you things to get things in return. I get you things because I love you and because I can. Now open it…please?”

"Mmmm okay!," you giggled, playfully pecking Shuri's nose before removing yourself from her lap. You picked up the gift, giving it a little shake before eagerly unwrapping it. Inside, you found exquisite souvenirs from each of the stops you and Shuri had made on your trip to the Seven Wonders. The items looked rare and valuable, serving as a beautiful memento of the precious time you had spent with the woman you cherished the most.

“Shuriiiiii! Where-how? How did you get these??”

Shuri shrugs her shoulders, a half cocky grin painting her face. “I have my ways.”

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, proceeding to dig through the gift. Along with it all was a kimoyo bracelet, and you smiled at the gesture.

“Thank you babyyyy,” you squeal, wrapping your arms around her neck. “Now I can do all the things you do!”

“Welllll not quite. Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now,” she chuckled. “I made this mostly so I can keep you safe even when I’m not around. That amongst…other things.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“What things?”

“Oh you know…like…things…like I can give you orgasms with it.”

“Oh my god, Shuri!,” you laugh, playfully hitting her once more before proceeding to look in the box, finding a folded piece of paper at the bottom.

“Oooo, what’s this??,” you ask before Shuri takes the paper from your hand, laughing in your state of confusion.

“I wanna read this to you myself,” she says, her voice smooth as silk.

“What is it?”

“Just relax for me. Here…hold this,” she says, placing the panda plush in your arms. It was so cute.

Shuri slowly unfolded the paper, kissing your lips before inhaling deeply.

“I call this piece ‘Seven Wonders’.”

“Piece? Shuri, what is this?”

“Just…listen...”

✎✯ “They say the world contains wonders, I heard there were seven

But what wonders do they speak of if we don’t live in heaven?

They say the world contains beauty, but for me it was tragic

And though I don’t believe fables, I believe you are magic

I say the world contains death, yet in you I find life

And though now I’m your girlfriend, I hope one day I’m your wife

I say the world is but hell, yet you are my heaven

And if the world contains wonders, then you are all seven” ✯✎

With each word, each stanza and rhyme, you were brought to a state of healing. A state where you could feel Shuri’s words pick up the pieces for you and mend them back into one. You were an emotional wreck, tears falling down your cheeks uncontrollably to a point where softs sobs ripped out of your mouth. Your chest felt heavy and light all at once, as you were overtaken and consumed by the love you had for your girlfriend.

“Shuri, what the fuck???,” you cried, basking it all in. “That was so fucking beautiful, what? I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, nkoszana. You just have to believe it.”

“Shuri I…I didn’t even get you anything.”

"Baby, come here," she murmurs gently, gesturing for you to return and settle back into her lap, and you comply willingly. With your puffy eyes meeting hers, she can't help but be overwhelmed with love for you.

“You are my gift.”

Your lips form a pout, eyes twinkling with your tears.

“What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.

“Thank you my love,” you whisper for her ears only, nuzzling your face into the warmth of her neck as she kisses your temple in longing. “You’re my everything, Shuri.”

“Nawe ungowam.” (“And you are mine.”) ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

♪ ༘⋆ I see reflections of me when I look at you, and I ain’t never felt this way, and I can’t lie girl you got it, and I got pain all in my body you helping me heal from, lil’ mama a real one ♪ ༘⋆ (reflections - dustystaytrue ft. toosii)

#shuri x reader #shuri x you #shuri black panther #shuri fanfiction #shuri smut #dom!shuri #sub!y/n #smut #fluff #lesbian #sapphicvqmpires

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sweetdecoseo2023 · 6 months

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makeitmingi · 7 months

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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 22]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.2K

You didn't know where Yunho had dinner reserved. He didn't tell you anything too, no matter what kind of questions you asked. He insisted on keeping it a secret to surprise you. Jongho sent you a check in text while you were in the car.

"What are you laughing about?" Yunho asked when he heard a small chuckle escape you.

"Jongho texted me. He wanted to make sure you didn't kill me and dump my body." You informed, still chuckling slightly. He could be just as dramatic as Wooyoung and Seonghwa sometimes.

"What?! Is that what he really thinks of me?" Yunho scoffed in disbelief.

"He's just protective. And you were the one who argued earlier that you could be mean if you wanted to." You defended.

"I- Okay, now you are being mean to me." He whined. You giggled and shook your head. As Yunho drove, you cast occasional glances at him to properly study his face.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer." Yunho said, teasing you. Your eyes widened and your cheeks heated up, knowing you've been caught. Clearing your throat, you quickly turned your head to look out the window instead. You heard him chuckling behind you, floored by your adorable reaction.

"Alright, we're here." Yunho parked the car and jogged over to open the door for you.

"Come on." He held his hand out to you, a charming smile on his face. You looked up at him with a small smile and slipped your hand into his, getting out of the passenger seat.

"Just where are we?" You asked, looking up at the grey building. Yunho zipped his lips and locked the car.

You followed Yunho into the building, hand in hand. There was a doorman there to open the door and welcome you in with a smile.

"Reservation?" The hostess lady asked. Yunho gave his name and reservation ID. The hostess cross checked the name on her list, just like Hongjoong does.

"Right this way." She smiled, leading the both of you in. There was a table right before a huge, floor to ceiling window.

"Wow..." You were speechless, looking down at the nightlife of Seoul city before you. The view was unreal.

"This is amazing, Yunho ah." You turned to look at him. Yunho smiled softly, pulling the chair out for you to take your seat. You bowed your head and sat down. He took his own seat across you but you just couldn't take your eyes off the view.

"I'm taking your reaction as a good one? That the surprise was successful?" Yunho chuckled. You nodded with a small hum, resting your head on your hand to look.

"Are you going to be able to tear your eyes away to eat?" He joked. You finally turned back to him and rolled your eyes.

"What's special here?" You asked as you picked up the menu.

"D-De-Degustation?" Yunho tried to remember the fancy word that he came across when doing research on the restaurant. But you knew what he meant.

"Alright. Let's go with that then." You closed the menu. Of course, Yunho wasn't even surprised that you knew what he meant.

"Do you know what degustation is?" You asked him.

"Like you said, I did research on this place. I may not know how to pronounce it but I know what it is. It's like a tasting menu with portions of the chef's best dishes and flavours. A curated experience to appreciate the flavours, presentation and the cuisine." Yunho said like he was reading off the dictionary definition.

"I'm actually impressed. Did you memorise the whole definition?" You laughed in surprised. His ears got red in embarrassment and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I didn't say it to embarrass you, Yunho. I'm really touched and honoured that you went through all this trouble." You clarified.

"Like I said, I just want this to be as perfect as possible. I want you to have a good time." He said.

"Well, so far, do you think it has gone perfectly?"

"Yes. Although I didn't have a plan on where to go, I enjoyed my time at the aqaurium with you." He confessed. Now it was your turn to get flustered and embrassed.

"I've been having a great time, Yunho. Thank you for doing all this." You smiled softly. Yunho smiled, he was happy to hear that.

"May I take your order?" The waiter came over. You both went with the degustation menu.

"I'm driving but feel free to have some wine if you'd like. The degustation apparently goes well with their house red, according to the reviews I read." Yunho informed. You shook your head, you didn't need to have a drink.

"It's okay, I'd rather drink with you. Next time." You giggled. Yunho brightened up at the prospect of there being a next time and nodded his head excitedly.

"Enjoy some homemade bread." The waiter brought a bread basket. The smell of freshly baked warm bread filled your nose.

"Could I have some flaky salt and freshly cracked pepper, please?" You requested.

"Of course." The waiter smiled and bowed before leaving. Yunho squinted his eyes, he didn't like the smile the waiter sent you. It was a little too friendly for his liking. He brought the items to your table.

"So, after dipping your bread, sprinkle a little. It opens up the flavours of the olive oil and balsamic vinegar." You demonstrated.

"I'll try it." Yunho grabbed a piece onto the small side plate and copied your actions.

"Mmm, that's so good. I love warm bread." He nodded his head in satisfaction as he chewed and went for another bite. You made a mental note, Yunho likes bread. Then you remembered how Mingi likes bread too, it was one of the first things he told you. It was funny how both best friends liked bread.

"What's so funny?" He blinked in confusion.

"One of the first things Mingi told me was that he loves bread. It's just cute that both of you love bread. I guess you're best friends for a reason." You laughed.

"He's so random... Why would he tell you that when he first met you?" Yunho mumbled.

"Well, I helped you out of a walk in refridgerator when we first met." You tilted your head. Yunho's eyes widened.

"Please forget that. I was nervous and-"

"Yunho... It's okay and completely normal to be nervous. I would have been too. You were really adorable hiding in there though. And it'll always be one of the first memories I have of you." You smiled.

"Your first impression of me should have been that I was tough, not... like that..." He pouted.

"Then it wouldn't have been genuine, not the real you. I much prefer seeing and knowing the real you than a tough guy." You said.

Yunho was touched by your words. You were right, he was glad that you weren't scared or weirded out by his genuine self. It seemed that you actually liked it. If he had put on a facade and distance between the two of you from the start, maybe he wouldn't be here now.

"Here you go. The first course." The waiter brought two plates, serving you first then Yunho. You both listened to the way he described the dish and how to eat it.

"Enjoy." He bowed and left the two of you. You and Yunho held your cutlery and dug in.

"This is good." You nodded your head.

"You have no idea how hard it is to pick a restaurant when you're going on a date with a chef." Yunho snorted before he let out a sigh of relief, that you liked the food.

"Hey, I'm always appreciative of good food. I never expect high end dishes. I'm happy with simple dishes." You said.

"Exactly. Good food. Your definition of 'good food' is vastly different from mine." He chuckled.

"I guess this is the part where we kind of ask each other questions to find out more about each other right?" You suddenly asked after wiping your mouth with your napkin.

"We don't have to." Yunho assured. He didn't want to push you, he was afraid of asking the wrong thing or asking something that was too sensitive. The whole point of this was for you to be more comfortable around him and come to trust him more. But he wanted it to happen at your pace.

"Don't look so scared. I'll try my best to answer what I can. You don't have to tell me everything too." You smiled. Yunho nodded, putting his hand over yours to ground himself.

"Why don't you start? We'll just carry on from where ever, we don't have to go back and forth like 20 questions." He encouraged.

"Alright... Hmm, since you're not that good at cooking, who usually cooked for you?" You asked.

"My grandmother. She's the reason I have such a big appetite and love food. Only when I moved back with my parents, my mother cooked more. When I got my own place, it was take out."

"You lived with yourgrandmother? Is that why you're so close with her?" You blinked.

"Yeah. My parents had very busy jobs so Gunho and I lived with her. When my parents' jobs slowed down, we moved back." He replied.

"What about your parents?" Yunho asked. Even if you faltered for half a second, you recovered almost immedaitely and kept your demeanour. At your silence, Yunho greatly regretted asking, his fear came true.

"I was close with my mother, you know that. We spent a lot of time in the kitchen. But she got sick and passed away. Then my father remarried." You informed, feeling the lump form in your throat.

"I'm sorry." Yunho grew sad.

"Nothing for you to apologise about. There was no way you would have known. But yes, I have a stepmother and older stepbrother."

"Are they... nice?" He winced, mentally scolding himself. He didn't meant to ask that out loud, it was more a rhetorical question that he had in my brain.

"Television has some truth sometimes." Was what you said. So the answer was no, they weren't nice.

"But it's okay, I have another family. A chosen one." You smiled. Yunho wished to be a part of that family, the ones that make you happy.

"You and Seonghwa hyung have known each other for a long time, right? I think Wooyoung told me you've known each other since you were kids." Yunho tried to steer the conversation to another topic. Also, he was curious about your relationship with Seonghwa, how far the two of you went back.

"Yes, our mothers were close friends so we met through them. I can't even remember what age we met. And we've been together ever since. Seonghwa's been with me through everything." You said.

"Wow. That's even longer than me and Mingi. We met in elementary school. Stuck together from then on." He smiled.

"What about the others?" You asked.

"Oh, we met San in high school. Then Yeosang and Hongjoong in college. I guess we just all got along despite having difference interests in life." He shrugged.

"That's nice. Wooyoung joined us first. Then Jongho. All met through different kitchens." You said.

"You're like the 'it' crew or something. The popular kids in school." Yunho pointed out.

"Not at all! We just... work well together. We understand each other and have working styles that compliment each other. I don't usually stay at restaurants for a long time, I like to change my environments and gain exposure. I'm just grateful the 3 follow me." You said.

"Is this the first time you've stayed at a place for so long?" Yunho asked. You nodded your head. Usually by now, you would have left. But you didn't feel the urge to leave yet.

"I hope you don't leave." He said honestly, squeezing your hand. You merely smiled in reply.

"Don't worry about that now." You said. You didn't want to make promises that you were unsure of.

The rest of the courses came and went. You and Yunho got to know each other more, chatting every now and then about the most random topics while enjoying the delicious foods.

It felt like time had stopped and you were just in your own bubble with him. That feeling was so unfamiliar to you but you liked it.

"Thank you for the amazing dinner. It was really good." You smiled as Yunho opened the car door for you.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed the food. Although, I wish the portions were bigger." He complained with a purse of his lips. You laughed and sat inside while he ran to the driver's seat. Yunho was like Seonghwa in that aspect, they both had big appetites and were never easily satiated.

"You know what? I think I'm going to name my manatee, Yunnie." You smiled, lifting the stuffed manatee in front of your face. Yunho burst out laughing.

"Are you naming a manatee after me?!" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's only fitting. They can't be mean. Plus, you're the one that bought him for me." You giggled.

"I told you, (y/n). I can be mean. I just can't be mean to you." Realising what he said, Yunho slapped a hand over his mouth. You started laughing, seeing his ears turn red.

"Ignore what I just said."

"You're cute, Yunho." You smiled. If only Yunho wasn't driving, he would want to look at the expression on your face.

When Yunho pulled up to your house, he was about to say something to you; to thank you for coming out with him and spending practically your whole day with him.

"Still hungry? Are you up for supper?" You beat him to it. However, it wasn't what Yunho was expecting. He thought you would just thank him and leave for the night, going to see him the next day. Not once did he think you would invite him upstairs.

"What? You said the portions were small right?" You chuckled, finding his confused face so adorable.

"I-It's okay, you know? If you're tired, you don't have to-"

"If I was tired, I wouldn't have offered." You cut him off. Yunho nodded, turning out of the driveway and going to the carpark instead. You headed upstairs with him.

"Make yourself comfortable." You said as you opened the door, putting your bag aside and heading straight for the kitchen.

"Anything I can help with?" He asked, locking your front door for you. He didn't want to sit and wait for you to cook, preferring to cook with you.

"Is a frittata okay? I have goats cheese, bacon, tomatoes and spinach." You scratched your head.

"Sounds good." He smiled. Yunho cracked the eggs while you prepared the add ins, chopping up the vegetables and bacon into smaller bits. When Yunho was done, you beat the eggs with some creme fraiche, seasoned with salt and pepper before adding the tomatoes, spinach and bacon.

"Careful, it's hot. But we're going to dot the goat's cheese around." You said. Yunho nodded and put the goat's cheese over the top together with you.

"Time for the oven." You put the hot pan into the oven to continue cooking the middle of the frittata.

"I'll set a timer." You put the timer on your phone and went to sit on the couch with Yunho to wait for the frittata to cook.

"I should put these in water." Usually Seonghwa settles the flowers for you, putting them in a vase. But now that he wasn't here, you had to do it. Grabbing the same vase he uses, you put water in.

"Here, let me help." Yunho unwrapped the tulips for you and put them into the vase with water.

"Thank you." You smiled as he put the vase on your counter. Yunho looked at Yunnie, the manatee, who was now perched in your lap. Was it weird or creepy of him to be jealous of a plush? He kind of wished that he was able to lay in your lap.

"(y/n), what did you think of today?" Yunho asked. You did say you liked it but he wanted to be sure again. You thought about it for a while, humming as your hand stroked the manatee plush.

"It was great, Yunho. I loved the aquarium and dinner. I enjoyed spending time with you." You said shyly.

"I'm really happy to hear that. Thank you for coming out with me. The aquarium was fun but being with you made it better." He smiled.

"Does this mean you'll go out with me again?" He asked with hopeful eyes. You teased him by looking like you were contemplating it, tapping your chin.

"Stop~" He whined, pressing himself against your shoulder to hide his face from you.

"Yes, I'd love to go out with you again." You said between your laughs, your hand coming up to stroke the back of his head.

When the frittata was done, you and Yunho sat at the counter to eat together. Well, Yunho ate most of it. You assured him that you only wanted a few bites, unlike him, you were rather full from dinner already. Although, you still sat with him even if you were done eating just to spend time with him.

"Don't fall asleep now." It was his opportunity to tease you back.

"Stop! I was embarrassed enough. I was the one who invited you over and yet, I fell asleep before you left the house." Your hands flew to your warm cheeks.

"Don't worry, it was cute." Yunho sent you a smug smile, patting your head like you usually did with him.

"Now you admitting to watching me sleep is creepy." You laughed, jabbing him back.

"I didn't watch you sleep!" He exclaimed. After the food was done, you and Yunho did the dishes together. He knew he shouldn't stay any later, you both needed rest before work tomorrow.

"I'll see you tomorrw, (y/n). Thank you again for coming out with me." Yunho smiled, looking down at you as he leaned against the door frame.

"Please, Yunho. There's nothing to thank me for. I enjoyed myself, genuinely. I should be the one thanking you. You brought me for my first aquarium experience. You planned and paid for everything too." You laughed.

"As long as you enjoyed yourself." He whispered, holding your hand and rubbing the back with his thumb.

You smiled up at him, moving closer until you wrapped your arms around him. At your actions, Yunho wrapped his own arms around you, engulfing you in a big hug.

"Goodnight." You wished as you pulled away.

"Goodnight." He bowed his head and walked down the hall. As you closed the door, you leaned against it with a smile on your face.

"Next time." You said, eyes casting over to the manatee plush that was on the couch. Heading over, you picked it up and hugged it to your chest, a smile slowly forming on your face.

For some reason, you were looking forward to the next occasion you were able to spend time with Yunho.

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light-yaers · 1 year

Text

tangerine. | part one [carmen berzatto x reader]

Fic Masterpost | AO3

Carmen shows up at your diner after five years, and everything comes flooding back like it was only yesterday.

Warnings: swearing, angst, mature themes [discussions about drugs, workplace abuse, family problems]

Word count: 5.2k

PART ONE

“What is the point of this entire trip if you’re not going to tell me the restaurants in advance?” Sydney whittled off, trying to keep up with the storming legs of her partner. “Carmen, are you even listening to me, right now?”

“Of course, I’m listening,” he said, peering back at her as his legs kept up their pace.

He slalomed through people on the sidewalk of 8th Street and St. Marks Place, with Syd close on his tail. She didn’t know these streets like he did. His prior positions in the city were prestigious, ranging from sous chef roles all over the damn city, before he finally made chef de cuisine at Union Square Cafe. As the time had passed, understanding came with it, but she still wouldn’t ever wrap her head around him leaving NY for The Beef.

She knew Michael meant a lot to him, to the family, but dropping it all for a sandwich shop in Chicago would always be something she’d secretly question. Syd tried not to think about it too much; the fear of him leaving, or bailing, and the like; because at the end of the day she’d bled herself dry for this.

A restaurant. A place. Somewhere her dad used to love, and would love after the renovation. The Beef was gone, it was true, but in its place would be The Bear. The product of all of Carmen’s and her hard work.

Syd sped up to a jog, until she finally wrapped her fingers around Carmen’s forearm. She tugged him back, and used it as an opportunity to catch her breath. “You’re not listening. I don’t even know where we’re fucking going, Carm.”

He gently tugged his arm from her grasp. “This is a last minute addition,” he said, before he placed his hands on his hips. “I just wanted to get it over with. Sorry for rushing.”

Sydney nodded at him, listening. “Okay. So, let me in, dude. Tell me about this place so I’m less confused, and you’re less… whatever the fuck this is,” she said, gesturing to his erratic behaviour.

Carmen shuffled on the sidewalk, peering around at shop fronts, and the abundance of restaurants that lined up outside Tompkins Square Park. This was an area he knew like the back of his hand, but one he hadn’t visited since long before he’d left New York.

“The first place I ever worked in the city. It’s not fine dining, or Michelin starred, or any of that shit,” he started, and despite the abrupt way Syd’s eyes widened from annoyance, she still let him continue. “The vibe of it, though,” he said, and chuckled the words out of his mouth in surprise. “Just, come on.” He gently placed a hand on Syd’s shoulder, leading her forward so they were on the same page.

From the outside, Lucky Strike Diner didn’t look like anything special. It was a small unit, placed betwixt two taller apartment buildings, to the North of Tompkins Square Park. Syd looked up at it, grimacing slightly, but she tried to keep an open mind. She’d been around her fair share back alley barbeques and hidden gems to know you should never judge a book by its cover.

When she glanced over to Carmen, he looked practically childlike. There was a glint in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since they’d first decided to bin off The Beef and bring in The Bear That wonder, that craving for something new, and excitement of something unknown. Nostalgia danced over every feature of his face, and she watched as he sucked in a sharp breath, before entering the diner.

Inside, the decor was minimalist, but homely. Black and white photos lined the walls, pictures of families, of friends, of celebrations. Cream and red colours graced the walls, and the booths looked comforting and inviting. Despite the drab appearance outside, inside was bustling. Practically every table was full, and the old style bar was inviting. Through the kitchen window, sparks and fire shot up whenever something burned, or flambed, on the grill.

This vibe, the one Carmen had mentioned; Sydney felt it all immediately. That warmth, like you were stepping into a family function instead of something elitist. Businessmen sat with their laptops, next to mothers with their babies, and grandfathers on their own. This was a place for everyone, and that was clear to see.

As servers scattered over the busy restaurant floor, one of them stuck out to Sydney. You scuttled, slaloming through tables with ease, as you made your way to the host stand by the door.

Saturday rushes were always hardcore, but you’d grown accustomed to them. You grabbed two menus before you even looked the two new customers in the eye, and let out a simple “Welcome to Lucky Strike Diner, table for two–?”

You stopped when your brain finally computed his face; a face you hadn’t seen in a long time. Carmen Berzatto was standing in your fucking restaurant. “Carmy.” His name slipped out easily, and along with it came a sickly feeling in your gut.

He cleared his throat. “Table for two, yes. Please.”

You glanced at the second member of his party, quickly, and shot her a smile. You didn’t particularly have anything to smile about, but it wasn’t her fault that she’d just been planted into the middle of this inevitable shitstorm. That smile disappeared instantly, as soon as you looked back at Carmen.

“Great,” you said plainly. Even disappearing assholes like Carmen wouldn’t stop you from being professional and civil at work. You loved this place too much, had been here too long, to do that. “This way, please.”

You steamed forward as you picked out a table in the corner, furthest away from the host stand. You didn’t want him in the middle of the room, where he could easily find you in the crowd of servers. Why he was here and what he was doing didn’t cross your mind until you seated them, dropping the menus down on their respective settings.

Carmen scooted his chair in, and peered up at you. “It’s been a long time–”

“So, have you guys ever been here before?” you cut over him, and mostly looked at his partner. She shot you a clearly awkward smile, but nevertheless shook her head politely. Carmen stayed silent, and bit upon his tongue. “Okay, so I’ll lay down the lingo for you,” you said, as you quickly went through the menu with her. “You need anything, just wave one of us down and we’ll be happy to help, all good?”

“Yeah, thank you,” Sydney said with a smile, before she looked over at Carmen. That smile quickly turned to a small frown.

“Fantastic,” you said. “Can I get you guys some drinks to start?”

“Um, I’ll take the lemonade, thanks,” Sydney ordered, as she attempted to hold this entire interaction together by the skin of her teeth.

“Great choice, it was made fresh this morning like always.” You turned to Carmen. “And for you, sir?”

A vein had popped out on Carmen’s forehead very noticeably. It was one that Sydney knew well, when he was either under insane amounts of stress in the kitchen, or fighting against the urge to yell. Maybe both meant the same thing, but still– she could see from a mile off that this was not the way he’d wanted this reunion to go.

“Surprise me,” he said, as he looked up and caught your eye.

You clenched your jaw. “I’m no good at surprises, so I’ll just bring you some tap water until you decide,” you said, trying and failing to keep things light. “I’ll be back with those drinks in just a few minutes.” You went to leave quickly.

“Hey, just–” Carmen reached out for you as fast as he could, but as his fingers grazed your wrist, you managed to snap your arm away from him just in time. He gave up when disappeared through the doors to the back, and dropped himself back into his chair.

Sydney leant forward immediately. “Okay, dude. What the fuck was that?”

“It’s nothing,” Carmen said bluntly.

Sydney started laughing breathily. “Yeah, sure, that was nothing. Don’t test me, Carm.”

“I– fuck,” he spluttered. “Just pick your fucking food, please.”

Sydney was a pro at telling Carmen to calm the fuck down, but this interaction had her stumped for a solution. “What do you recommend?” she said, switching her tune.

Carmen met her eye in some kind of silent apology. “Uhh, the eggs. The eggs are fantastic. And the french toast, that’s the restaurant’s best.” As the subject changed, Carmen delved into the menu alongside Syd. They talked about their menu ideas, and paralleled them with the dishes they saw here.

Maybe bringing a diner styled meal to a (soon to be) Michelin menu wasn’t so much of a bad idea. It fit the theme. The homeliness, paired with the decadence of the chaos menu they’d been discussing priorly.

In the back, you quickly punched in their drink order, before you slalomed through the kitchen. “Behind!” you yelled, as you made your way through each station. The chefs all shot you concerned looks, as it became apparent where you were heading.

“Is today really a walk-in day?” One of them, Paulie, said as you raced by. He’d known you for years now, and knew when something was fucking wrong.

“Yep!” you exclaimed back at him, tugging open the handle of the walk-in swiftly.

“What the fuck happened?” he boomed, but you slammed the door shut before you could muster up a reply.

Inside, you breathed alongside the ingredients. The vegetables, the homemade sauces, the fresh smoked salmon. It was cold, but not too cold that you couldn’t stand it. The cool air made everything feel calm, like you had somehow been transported to some Icelandic lake in the summertime. The air was crisp, and noise was muffled through the door, like the solace you felt by locking yourself in the upstairs bathroom at a house party.

Carmen Berzatto showing up out of the blue had been something you’d long stopped indulging in. He’d made himself clear, the last time you’d seen him, that he had no intention of continuing the working relationship or friendship you’d once had. It was only then that you realised how fast the time had gone.

You were twenty when you met him, the same age as each other. Both of you tried to navigate life together as you stumbled and fell, and got yourselves up again. You were on par with each other, both in intelligence and maturity. Paulie had liked Carm as soon as he’d walked through the door for his interview, and pretty soon after being hired, he’d turned Lucky Strike around like it was no skin off his back.

He was a refreshing change for the life you’d found yourself in. He’d made this place great, and you’d taught each other some life lessons. You’d always known he was destined for more, and you’d always been the first person to sing his praises.

Before his abrupt switch in personality, you’d thought fondly of your time here together. The same old grind of opening up the diner together in the morning. While he prepped for service in the kitchen, you did so on the restaurant floor. It was a collaborative effort, and without both of you together at that point in time, the diner would have gone under. That’s what made it sting even more, when you thought of your life now– you wouldn’t be in this position if he hadn’t come along. It was like rubbing extra salt in your already open wound.

You sucked in a deep, cold breath, and let it out slowly. The cold invigorated your lungs, and gave you the strength to continue with your day. Lunch service was on the brink of its lull, anyway, but having him there, sat outside, with his fucking face that he used to look at you so fondly with, you could hardly stand it.

A gentle knock sounded from the walk-in door, and you quickly wiped a few spots of sweat from your forehead. “Yeah!” you yelled.

“Come on out, sweetheart,” Paulie urged you, and you hadn’t been able to refuse him for the time you’d been working at the diner– so that wasn’t going to start now.

You pushed open the door and sealed it shut behind you, before you allowed yourself to peer up at him. He was a burly guy, but soft around the edges. You had no idea if he was in his forties or sixties, since he had one of those faces that were sort of stuck in time. He spoke like a character straight out of Taxi Driver.

“What the hell happened, huh?” he asked gently, patting you on your shoulders sturdily.

You sighed. “Carmen. He’s in the restaurant,” you said.

“Carmy’s here?” Paulie exclaimed, as he frantically looked around the kitchen. “Guys, Carmy’s here!” he yelled. A few of the chefs, who’d been employed here for time, started muttering loudly.

Paulie’s joy only made you feel worse, but you didn’t hold it against him. Carm had been a staple here all those years before, and had taught a lot of the guys all that they knew about their role. Literally. “Table twenty,” you said. “Knock yourselves out.”

Service stopped momentarily as Paulie and two other chefs made their way out to the restaurant. You stayed back, and peered through the kitchen window. Beyond the bar, you saw Paulie exclaim as Carmen stood up and shook his hand. They hugged like bears, and he introduced Sydney to them all.

Paulie’s voice was one that carried, so it was impossible not to hear every note of their conversation from where you were. “We’ll whip you up your old favourites. You still like salmon?” Paulie went on, and Carmen nodded and smiled in appreciation the entire time.

You composed yourself as best as you could, before you left the kitchen. You grabbed their drinks, already prepared, on the bar, and gently shoved yourself through to their table.

“Aye, aye, aye– we have hungry people waiting, Paulie!” you said, allowing yourself to don a small smile as you gently set down their drinks. “Come on now, back to work, chefs!”

Paulie squeezed Carmen’s shoulder, before he gestured to you. “She’s practically the boss around here now, Carmy. The big boss,” he said. Carmen gently met your eye, but you looked away as fast as you could.

“Alright, alright. Big boss says three orders of french toast on the fly, chef,” you said, grinning as Paulie held up his hands defensively.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he said, as he started treading back towards the kitchen. “Good to see you, Carmy!” he boomed.

“You too, Paulie,” Carmen said, before he awkwardly sat back down and tucked himself in.

You caught your breath again, as you cleared your throat. “So, it seems our chef has already picked your order for you. Can I get you guys anything else that he didn’t mention?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sydney said, pointing to the menu. “What is this exactly?”

You read the words just above her fingertip, and your gut dropped. Tangerine salade. You were torn between wanting to laugh maniacally, or leave and never return to the diner. Carmen’s eyes widened in realisation at Sydney’s request.

“Oh, it’s–”

“It’s–”

You and Carmen stopped talking when you heard the other start. You’d both gone to explain the dish– if it could even be called a dish. You held your breath abruptly and took a small step back. Part of you wondered if he remembered the entire meaning, but you weren’t about to explain it all in great detail. Not when it didn’t feel as special anymore.

“I’m sorry, you tell us. Please.” Carmen shut his mouth and sat back, as if he was on best behaviour.

“It’s exactly what it says,” you said. “Tangerine salad. Two fresh tangerines, cut into slices like big oranges, instead of peeled and segmented.”

Sydney smiled, amused. “Where did that come from?”

It came from Carmen. You had a habit of stealing fruit from the walk-in, when you realised you hadn’t eaten on a shift. Tangerines were always ordered, but hardly ever used, so there was always an abundance of them, destined to rot.

Carmen caught you everytime, eating them like orange slices, just so they were quicker and easier to scoff down during a rush. The juice didn’t get on your hands as much, and you enjoyed the vibrant colour they produced over the white pith that covered their segments when peeled. Carmen had taken it upon himself to add a new item during a menu refresh in the early days. Tangerine salade was born, and neither you, nor Paulie, had ever thought to get rid of it. Even after all this time.

“Why did you call it that?” you asked Carmen, gobsmacked to see it on the menu for the first time, all those years before.

“Salad didn’t sound as good as salade,” he explained.

“You chefs and your obsession with French words, huh?” you joked, as you rounded his station and dropped the menu down upon the pristine surface. “This is sweet, Carmy. Sweet, but unnecessary.”

“Not true,” he countered, bashing his shoulder into yours playfully. “Now that it’s on the menu, it’s got a button on the system. Whenever you need a tangerine just punch it through, and we’ll have two of ‘em, waiting for you when you get a moment to fucking breathe.”

You felt Carmen’s stare on you at Sydney’s question, and forced yourself to suck in a breath and come back to reality. “Tangerine salad is our version of McDonalds apple slice bags. For the kids,” you lied, but nevertheless kept a smile stamped on your face. Carmen looked positively pale at your response. “They’re good fucking tangerines, though,” you added, and Sydney chuckled in surprise.

“Okay, I need to try these tangerines,” she said.

“One order of tangerine salade, on top of all the rest, sure.” You made a quick note on your order slip, even though you didn’t need to. It was just a way to avoid Carmen’s stare even further.

For the rest of the lunch rush, you pretended like he wasn’t there. You did the rounds, topping up cups of coffee, and rushing fresh dishes and dirty plates to and from the kitchen. You stayed on top of admin when you got a spare moment at the host stand, and scrolled through invoices from suppliers.

Without meaning to, you’d stayed at Lucky Strike Diner for seven years. It was life for you now. You lived a few blocks away, through the park, but having an apartment felt like a waste when you practically lived in the restaurant.

You and Carmen had talked about so much, when you’d both been confined to these walls. What lay beyond for both of you. His dream to cook in top restaurants, and eventually build his own restaurant from the ground up. You didn’t really have any dreams, just the security and stability of a good life, and good people around you, but you indulged whenever he mentioned his own place.

“Well, if you ever need a front of house manager, you know where to find me,” you joked, as you wiped down the bar at the end of the day. Carmen poked his head through the kitchen window.

“Why don’t we do it, then?” he asked abruptly. You stopped wiping the surfaces, and turned around to face him. “Open our own restaurant.”

“Oh, man, I don’t know. Money, taxes, insurance, money,” you listed off, and he tossed a wet cloth at your face. You dodged it, and watched it crash onto one of the restaurant tables. “Hey!” You turned back, shooting him an amused grin.

“You’re too much of a fucking realist,” he said, as he made his way out of the kitchen and into the restaurant.

“And you’re too much of a fucking dreamer. These things take time, Carmy.”

“I know that,” he said, as he grabbed the cloth he’d thrown. He approached the bar, and leaned over it, bridging the gap between your faces. “We could still do it, though. Have our own place. Cook our own menu.”

You smiled at his words, and rearranged the napkin holders next to him. “Can’t do that when you’re about to join the big leagues,” you said, and Carmen slid off the bar.

“You’re gonna fucking jinx it!” he wailed.

“It’s called manifesting!” you exclaimed. “You’re gonna get the fucking job, Carm.” He pulled out a chair from one of the tables and dropped into it melodramatically.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see,” he muttered. “You think Paulie will still talk to me if I leave?”

You were the one to throw your cloth at him now, and it hit him square in his face with a slap sound. You smacked your hands over your mouth in surprise, before you tried and failed to stop chuckles from cascading out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry–” you started, rounding the bar.

Carmen slid the cloth off his face. “You’re fucking funny,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, Carmy, really,” you said through chuckles, as you dropped yourself into the chair opposite him. You took the cloth from his hands, and gently squeezed his hand in apology.

A comfortable silence, one that you’d grown accustomed to over the past eight months, descended upon the two of you. All you could hear was the playful pounding of your hearts and the soft way he breathed. It was a relaxing sound.

“You’re gonna get it,” you said again, and Carmen only had eyes for you then. “And when you do, I can’t wait to go and eat the best meal of my fucking life.”

Carmen smiled. He’d always been shy, always quiet, unless he was in the kitchen. “My brother has a restaurant, back in Chicago. When I finished culinary school, I really thought he’d let me join him, you know? It could be a family restaurant. We could run it together, or something,” he said. You hooked onto his every word. “But, he told me no. Said he didn’t want me anywhere near it, and– I don’t know. I think that’s why I came here.”

You bit your lip, inhaling his words. “Family will always be our harshest critics,” you said.

Carmen scoffed, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands. “You can fucking say that again.”

“You know, my sister lives in Chicago,” you said.

Carmen leant forward. “Really?”

You hummed. “Has for a few years now. My mom didn’t like it when she told us she was moving, but.” You shrugged. “That’s just because my mom has never lived anywhere else than here.”

“Yeah, my own wasn’t thrilled about me coming to New York, either,” Carmen said, before he huffed in dark amusement. “It’s funny. She hates us, my brother and sister and I, when we’re around, when we complain, when we do anything– but she also hates it when we all wanna get the fuck out because of it.”

You smiled at him softly, in understanding. “They fuck you up, don’t they?”

Carmen flicked his gaze over your features. “You don’t seem fucked up to me,” he said gently.

“Give it time,” you said. Smiles slowly appeared on both of your faces, until laughter trickled from your mouths like drops from a tap. “One day you’ll realise just how messed up I am,” you joked.

“Is that a challenge?” Carmen questioned.

You scoffed, and raised your hands up defensively. “Fuck no. I don’t want to tempt fate when it comes to how fucked up chefs can be.”

Carmen pointed at you abruptly, sternly, but there was amusement all over his face. “That is an untrue stereotype,” he said. “Not all of us snort coke.”

“All?” you asked.

“Well.” He leaned closer to you, stretching his arms across the table. “Not me.”

You regarded him softly. You hardly got the chance to do this during service; just look at him. Hold his gaze, feel him close. You would never admit it, but having Carmen around was a constant over the past months that comforted you. You liked having him near, liked seeing him practically everyday, and it was clear that you got on enough to talk bullshit with each other.

When you got home that evening, way past midnight, you opened up your laptop and went to the Union Square Cafe website. You hovered your mouse over the reservations tab, thinking something crazy.

Carmen hadn’t heard back from the restaurant yet, but he’d only applied as the CDC there a number of days before. You knew he was going to get it, and felt it deep within your soul. That feeling is what lead you to book yourself a solo dinner, for the first available date you could possibly find– a years’ time.

You knew that, by the time that year was up and you were sitting at your table, Carmen would be in the kitchen, cooking your meal. You didn’t tell him about it either, but kept it to yourself for the remainder of his time at the diner.

You’d been right, when within a month, he’d gone through a rigorous interview process and landed the position and USC. Paulie had faked being mad, but it was clear to see the immense admiration he had for the young Carmen Berzatto. When his last shift approached, you had secretly arranged a goodbye celebration. At the end of a long Saturday, as you and Carmen shut up the diner and headed out, you were ambushed by the servers and chefs as you tread through the park.

Drinks and laughs were shared at your apartment across the way. It was the most you’d seen Carmen socialise in the time you’d known him, but he didn’t look uncomfortable once. He knew he had a support system behind him from the diner– and from you, predominantly. When the moon shone down onto your building, you found yourself out on your fire escape with a beer bottle in your hand. You looked up at the stars, and only looked away when someone shuffled out of the window and sat next to you.

Carmen crossed his legs next to you, and gulped down his own beer contentedly. You turned to him and smiled fully, overly excited for him to start his new endeavour.

He huffed at you softly. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he said.

“I know,” you replied. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”

Carmen shuffled awkwardly next to you. “I know, I know, it’s just–”

“For once, you need to be okay with being the centre of attention, okay? Deal with it.” You hit back, and laughed when you saw the way his eyes widened at your tenacity. “We’re so excited for you, Carm.”

Carmen nodded, and allowed himself to accept all of your praise, just this once. “I’m excited, too,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I got it.”

“I can,” you said. “If you don’t get some type of chef award in the next year then I’ll be surprised.”

Carmen laughed. “Chef award?”

“You know, like ‘Best New Chef On The Block’, or ‘Shyest Chef In The Business’, or–”

“Enough, enough,” he let out, chuckling. You weren’t done yet, however.

“Or the James Beard award.”

He scoffed. “Bullshit.”

“It’s called mani–”

“Manifesting!” Carmen finished your sentence for you, imitating your past words. You leaned against the wall in awe at his playfulness.

“So, you do listen to me sometimes, huh?”

“I guess I do,” he said, and shot you a knowing smile. You held his gaze when he gave it to you, because it was somewhat of a rare thing.

Maybe you’d always been too out there for Carmen, but he’d learned to live alongside you despite it. You were glad about that. You enjoyed his company more than you’d ever say to his face, and despite being so happy for him to leave the diner, part of you was aching at the thought of his absence.

You flicked your gaze over his face, taking in his features. He had a strong nose, and the kind of cheekbones that they talked about in women’s magazines. His eyes, though– God, his eyes– they were so blue that they looked artificial in some lights. Like the kind of blue food colouring you put in cake icing. Alarming, but also impossible to shy away from when he was properly looking at you.

He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple shifted in his throat. “I’m gonna miss you,” he said, almost croaking out the words. Your heart melted. Your brows furrowed softly. Your chest compressed. You let out a shaking breath through your nose.

“I’m gonna miss you, too, Carmy,” you let out. It felt like the best and worst kind of goodbye.

You hadn’t thought about that day in years. The last time you had, it was after your reservation at USC the year after. Coincidentally, that was the last time you’d seen Carmen Berzatto too, until he showed up at the diner and plummeted you back to those thoughts from those previous years.

As the lunch rush died down, you wiped the bar down from lack of what else to do. In the corner, Carmen and Sydney were finishing up their meal. Sydney had made an abundance of notes in a small notebook, while Carmen talked in hushed tones and spilled all the old diner secrets. With his hands clasped on the table before him, used napkin to his left, plates practically licked clean, he turned himself around to glance around the restaurant.

You sucked in a sharp breath when his eyes hit yours. You almost froze, but remembered yourself as much as you could. You tensed, and looked away first quickly. You smacked your hands down on the counter when you looked to the kitchen, and caught Paulie’s eyes. “I’m going for a smoke!” you announced, before you slipped off your apron quickly.

“Those things will kill you!” Paulie exclaimed back, his voice booming across the restaurant floor.

“Maybe that’s the point,” you muttered to yourself, as you headed towards the back door of the diner. You slipped a cigarette between your lips on the way.

Carmen’s gaze followed you as you disappeared through the door. Sydney saw it all as she sat opposite him, and had the strangest urge to give him guidance.

“So, shall we get outta here?” she asked. Carmen’s attention was still on the door.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, but his mind was still elsewhere. “Just– give me one second,” he said, as he stood up from the table. He started towards the door, and Sydney grabbed his wrist abruptly. Carmen froze, and looked down at her.

“Don’t push her,” Sydney said suddenly. “I don’t know what shit you guys have going on, but I’m good at reading faces. Just don’t push her too hard, Carm.”

Carmen regarded her thoughtfully. He nodded. Then, he was gone.

PART TWO

393 notes · View notes

heavenbarnes · 7 months

Note

hi!! i’ve never done this before but id like to request a sydney adamu x femreader :) like maybe with the reader being a new sous chef at the bear or old culinary school crush or smth along those lines haha or literally any other ideas u might have!! there’s an unfortunate lack of sydney fics in general so i’ll rly take anything lol. also LOVED the one you wrote recently (im losing it lately) i have been re-reading it over and over again omfg

Already better for knowing you

Sydney Adamu x female reader

Warnings/Contains: swearing, syd is so fucking awkward, carmy is a meddling shithead, mature themes (involving fruit), beginnings of a praise kink, no actual smut (can you believe it?!)

Thank you so much for requesting this, I thoroughly enjoy writing for Syd! Also sorry that I always write her the same way (awkward-lesbian-munch) but I genuinely think that’s how she’d be. Also cannot believe you’ve read my work multiple times! I didn’t know if you wanted this to be smut so I only hinted, but lemme know if you want more. Anyways, hope you like this!

Sydney and Carmy had to have the difficult talk.

With the success of The Bear, how much it had taken off with their hard work, it was time to bite the bullet.

They needed more hands in the kitchen.

Experienced hands, they needed someone that Syd could rely on. She could give an order and that person would follow.

She needed a sous chef.

They put up the ad and, sure enough, they had a number of chefs in for the interview. They were keen, mostly young, hungry for the chance to break out into their first kitchen.

Both Syd and Carm knew you had to start somewhere but they both really needed the experience, the trust, the reliability.

Their last day of interviews rolled through and Sydney couldn’t help the feeling of helplessness creeping in her chest. Last day of interviews and still no closer to a new sous.

Were they being too picky?

As she shuffled her papers of interview questions and old CVs, she watched Carmy scratch the back of his neck as he read over the last applicant’s details.

“Well, she sounds good on paper.”

Syd couldn’t help the snort she let out, elbows on the table and head resting in her hands. “They’ve all sounded good on paper.”

Carmy shrugged his shoulders at that, but nevertheless sat down beside his chef de cuisine still reading over the paper.

“Says she’s worked in a couple restaurants, out of state- she’s only recently moved to Chicago.”

Syd listened to him speak, trying to find herself a little bit more excited at the prospects.

“Graduated from the CIA, experienced with-“

That perked her up a bit, knowing it was a long shot with the number of campus locations and students that came and went from the institute.

But there was still a small chance.

“What’s her name?” She turned to read the paper over Carmy’s shoulder as the sound of the door opening filled the space.

It all happened so quickly.

The door opened.

Carmy said your name.

You appeared before her.

Still as beautiful as the last time she saw you.

As if she could forget that day, for a few reasons. One, it was graduation, obviously she was going to remember it. Two, well, you were there.

If anyone cared enough to ask, she could tell them what you wore. The way your smile shone under the stage lights. The way you smelt as you hugged her and wished her the best.

Sometimes, when things got quiet, she’d play that moment over in her head.

Sydney thought she might’ve been dreaming when she saw you striding across the auditorium right towards her. You smiled, bright smile, hand coming up to give her a quick wave.

She’d even looked over her shoulder, trying to find out who you were even waving at. By the time she looked back towards you, you were smiling harder and giggling a little.

“Yes, that was for you.” You’d teased, making a heat grow on Syd’s cheeks.

“Yeah- yeah, I knew that.”

Your smile turned into a smirk as you nodded knowingly. “Course you did.”

Then you both stood there quietly, Sydney couldn’t really focus when you were dressed like this. Granted, it was just your chefs whites, but she couldn’t deny you wore the hell out of them.

You’d been wearing them nearly every day, and it still took her breath away every time she saw you. She didn’t even notice you were speaking until you shifted to get into her eye line.

“Sorry- what was that?”

“I said I’ll miss seeing you in the kitchen.”

Syd nodded, earnestly, face softening as she spoke. “I don’t think I’ll enjoy cooking as much without you there.”

She’d surprised herself with her confidence, actually being able to say it. She was pleased to see your smile growing. There was also a glint in your eye that she couldn’t place.

Her chest tightened up as you stepped forward, hands reaching out to pull her into a hug. She melted into you, taking a deep breath to remind herself of your sweet scent.

“Soon as you make it big,” You spoke knowingly, like it was inevitable. “I’ll come find you.”

And here you were now, standing before her in her own restaurant.

You’d found her.

Her mouth fell open as she tried to find the words she’d wanted to say to you all this time. How are you? I’ve missed you? I’ve thought about you every day since the last time I saw you?

Instead, she just stayed silent. She closed her mouth, blinking up at you with those beautiful eyes of hers.

“Syd,” Her name sounded at home in your mouth. “How long has it been?”

“Three years, eight m-months.” She’d only realised how quickly she’d answered when she saw your eyebrows raise.

Carmy shifted beside her, too. It snapped her back into reality, the reality where you were standing right before her and she was acting like a fucking dickhead.

“Well, here’s hoping I’m right on time.” You didn’t look put off, you assumed that same smirk you’d given her all those three years, eight months ago.

You were, you were always right on time. Always in the right place. Always just right.

Syd managed to pull herself together enough to stand up (for whatever reason) and gesture to the seat before her and Carmy. You graciously accepted, sitting down and placing your hands on the table.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to them, the way your fingers intertwined together, the lines coming off your palms. Sydney remembered back to the institute, the distractions she’d face watching you handle a knife or split a citrus fruit.

She couldn’t think of the latter right now.

The way your fingers would pierce the skin, pulling it apart with juices spraying up your wrists. You’d scoop out the flesh with your bare hands, not caring for the way it’d leave you sticky and dripping.

You’d look up at her, finding her watching you and not minding the way she stared. The fateful day you threw the rest of the grapefruit into the scraps, bringing two fingers to your lips to lick the excess off before you washed your hands.

Sydney was completely and utterly-

“Obsessed,” Your voice brought her back into the room, only for the second or third time in the short span of time. “Obsessed with what you’ve done with this place.”

She saw Carmy smile out the corner of her eye, his cheeks blushed a little at your words. You had that effect on most people. Sydney knew better than anyone what you could do to a person with just a few words.

“Well, we’re quite impressed with your CV,” He responded, laying it out on the table. “Aren’t we, Syd?”

By the time she looked away from him, she found you were already staring at her expectantly. She nodded, mumbling an affirmative sound to the both of them.

“Really impressed, seems like you’ve done a great job since graduation.”

You lit up, that’s the only way Sydney could describe it. It was as if your heart was swelling in your chest as your cheeks rose.

“Thank you, that means a lot,” She had assumed you were referring to the both of them until you finished. “Coming from you, Syd.”

If this was how she was at the interview, lord help her in the kitchen. There was no doubt you were getting the job, that was an absolute given. But Sydney would have to think hard about how it’d work practically.

Her sous chef. Following her every move. Responding to her every word. Reliable, obedient, willing, responsive.

Syd had seen you in action at the institute, but never following her own orders. She didn’t know if she’d be able to cope with hearing your “yes, chef” and knowing it was directed at her.

Even the way you were looking at her now, so expectant, hanging on to everything she was saying. She knew that look in your eye, on your face, you’d given yourself away just a little earlier.

“Coming from you, Syd.”

Praise. You were looking for her praise.

The thought sent Sydney into overdrive, forcing her to stand up abruptly and knock her knees into the table as she did.

Both you and Carmy looked up at her in confusion, your mouth opening to ask if everything was alright.

Syd cut you off, babbling as she walked away from the table. “I just remembered- remembered that the stove is on and- that’s the number one cause of kitchen fires- and I will be right back!”

She kept talking as she eventually made her way into the kitchen, hiding in the space right next to the oven (that hadn’t been on all morning).

Sydney knew she was fucked. Royally, totally, well and truly fucked. The crush she’d had on you at the institute had been debilitating and, whilst she’d missed you, these three years and eight months had meant she was finally able to focus.

Now here you were, in her kitchen and looking like everything she’d ever wanted.

Syd had no idea how long she stayed hiding in the kitchen but sooner or later Carmy came through with a stupid smile on his face, leaning against the bench.

“Think you handled that really well.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m begging you.”

He laughed, laying the brown folder he’d been carrying down beside him as he crossed his arms. She looked up at him, wincing a little as she already knew what was coming.

“You gave her the job, didn’t you?”

Carmy laughed louder, looking down at the heap of Sydney on the floor. She could kick his shins right now.

“Of course I did,” He responded, pushing up from the bench as he turned to leave. “Have fun training your new sous chef.”

Fucked. Completely fucked.

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