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#like kinda simple. but in the perfect way
scificrows · 7 months
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The feed ID doesn’t need to say anything other than what everyone else’s says, just name, gender, and…” She trailed off. She was looking at me and I was looking at her. - Martha Wells, Fugitive Telemetry (The Murderbot art I used is the official cover art from the French edition of ASR)
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a-very-tired-raven · 3 months
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This took me four hours and cost me a finger blister. Enjoy.
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malkaviian · 1 year
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its honestly so funny that my homophobic grandmother says that i should "make use of my talent" when it comes to art and that "if i had that spark glow, it was for something" girl............ i started to draw because i wanted to make gijinkas of the male fn4f animatronics kiss each other
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orcelito · 2 years
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Honestly tho as a writer I live and breathe hurt/comfort (probably bc there's smth wrong with me lol), to the point where it's just a Given in anything I write. And I kinda assume that's gonna b the case with others too??
But then. Romcom. With some angst, but overall just relationship shenanigans. Oh the potentials that were not realized
#speculation nation#there was one point where i was like 'omg hes alluding to some vague thing that is Off but wont say what'#and 'omg this arc would be a perfect tie-in for the tragedy of his parents. is he acting off bc the anniversary is coming up?'#and. no. no it was just the relationship angst.#god i really have a love-hate relationship with this kind of genre. like it's fun and simple just. ykno. romcom!#except like 95% of the conflict is just 'he cant feel the same way i do 🥺' despite all evidence to the contrary#as a reader that is just . so frustrating lmao. probably bc i myself cant rly relate???#ive always been an observer. getting Vibes from people. & ive never been so into someone to b blinded as to how they feel about me#it's kinda really fuckin obvious when ppl are Interested. so i just do not understand or relate to the core conflict of this.#always been the case where i prefer a mountain of angst with the core characters able to cling to each other for stability#not a 100% rule. but it's for that reason that i'll never have stupid miscommunication conflicts in my writing#miscommunication as a reasonable manifestation of Issues? sure! absolutely.#but i kinda Really hate the trope of like 'omg i heard just a part of what he was saying and jumped to conclusions that tear everything up'#not that that was present in the fic ive been reading but it's certainly not an uncommon trope.#im more exacting in my angst. digging into what really makes them Tick. what makes them Hurt.#peeling back their layers until we get to see their sad pathetic cores#and then i will patch them back up again. give them a pat on the head. as if that will fix the trauma.#relationship angst is so overdone and boring. i need me some actual relevant tangible and Dangerous angst#angst that makes you wonder if they'll make it out of this alive. now THAT'S what im all about babey
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swampjawn · 2 months
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Dungeon Meshi Episode 7 was super interesting from an adaptation standpoint - this'll be a little different from what I usually write about (though I do still talk about the animation in the full video).
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Studio Trigger have never done a straight-up manga adaptation before - and led by Yoshihiro Miyajima, a big fan of the manga who pushed hard for the adaptation to get made, and who has never directed a full series before, it was unclear if they'd be able to find the right balance between a simple panel-for-panel recreation and making something that's completely different.
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And in the first few episodes, you could really feel the tension between the influence of a cautious young creative with great respect for the source material, and a studio with a unique established visual style. It kinda seemed like they were ping-ponging willy-nillily between the two sides of that spectrum.
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But this episode showed that Miyajima (and series writer Kimiko Ueno) can take 3 chapters, slice them up and rearrange them into a cohesive-feeling episode while taking into account the differences between screen and page, and using them to their advantage.
Starting with the way the water looks. This line from the manga describes a faint magical glow to the water in this lake and you can see that the cavern fades into darkness above, but Kui's illustration style doesn't really define lighting and shadows very much compared to the cel-drawing style of animation. So the animators took the opportunity to use the water as the light source, and make a whole episode that's lit almost entirely from below. It really gives an otherworldly feeling to this area.
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Particularly when the Kelpie shows up, that under-lighting works wonders to define its anatomy within the relatively simple line art.
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What do you do when you can't show the immense fuck-off scale of a monster with a beautiful full-page spread like this?
Well you use what you do have: the ability to move the camera instead. This is such a great way to communicate the scale of this thing, AND such a great way to show some of Senshi's anime-original butt-cheeks!
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This is one of my favorite shots from this episode - this whole sequence is super hectic, cutting quickly from character to character, but they use tricks like this to keep you from getting confused. This is framed much like it is in the manga, but with the moving image, they're able to use the trajectory of the fish head in the background to lead your eye directly from Chilchuck, right to the point where Senshi pops up in the foreground and transition seamlessly from one character to another!
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Now, it's not all good - I am a bit disappointed that they removed Marcille's own Senshi-style soap-making montage, which was the perfect visual representation of the culmination of the character development and understanding built between Senshi and Marcille.
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It's a shame to see it go.
I get more into that, what else was cut, and much more in this video where I broke down the entire episode!
Check it out if you feel like it. If you don't, jump in a ditch, cover yourself in leaves and jump out at people as they walk by.
Thanks for reading!
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arolesbianism · 11 months
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Yknow despite my absolute negative amount of interest in Wortox at this rate it's only a matter of time before I somehow start being mentally ill abt him too. If Wormwood and Willow got in my head then everyone else's days are numbered at this point </3
#rat rambles#to be clear; I have nothing against him hes just utterly uninteresting in concept to me#and Im not a huge fan of his kit either especially as a paid dlc character#I feel like hes the only one of the dlc characters who's weaknesses dont also add a new layer of nuance to their gameplay#wurt gets more benifit from veggies wormwood doesnt get damaged by foods and can use fertilizers and wanda has to manage her healing#intervals carefully but has basically infinite healing making fighting both more and less punishing#but when a guy's entire kit surrounds making you do repetitive labor only to punish you for using its rewards anyways it just feels unfun#like its not too bad if you have other players to help and he can do cool stuff with souls but only in very limited and simple copasities#one of my friends main him and I appreciate what he brings to the table but he also often complains abt how obnoxious he is to play#like idk its rly just the food weakness that gets to me because it feels like it takes away more than other aspects of his kit give#specifically it does in a boring and flat feeling way imo its very walter doesnt like clothes feeling 2 me#like the kinda thing where it just feels tacked on without much thought#tbf Im not a huge fan of wormwood's kit either so dont take this as me saying every other dlc character is perfect but yknow#at least wormwood has more than like 2 things he can do#sorry that this jusy turned into kit ranting I just have to long for justice for my dear friend so we can stop having every mod that we try#out to make things easier break our game within a session or two after it worked fine initially#also wendy likes him so I legally have to like him at least a little
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neo-nomatrix · 4 months
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The Olive Theory
Luke Castellan x Reader
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word count: 641
summary: Strawberries are your favorite thing in the whole world, luckily for you Luke seems to “hate them”
a/n: based on the olive theory from himym
@repostingmyfavs
There are two things you truly love in this world: Luke and Strawberries.
You often find yourself helping the Demeter and Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields, despite your actual job being at the infirmary. Miranda often scolded you for taking strawberries for yourself during the day, you didn’t mind though. The sweet yet tart berry was worth it.
Your obsession with the fruit grew even further. You begged the dryads for extra portions during dinner, pairing them with yogurt and melted chocolate. Your least favorite part was having to sacrifice the berry to your godly father. You debated giving something else to him but everyone at camp and above knew your love for them, there was no running from it.
Luke was well aware of your passion for strawberries. Going as far as joking that you love them more than him. You both aren’t quite sure if it’s a joke or not.
You sit at a picnic table near the Hermes cabin with luke. You had just sat down with Percy and three shortcakes for each of you. Luke leans over and presses a soft kiss against your temple as you sit down. Percy notices that you can barely acknowledge it since your focus is on the cake.
Both Luke and Percy stare at you in wonder as you eye the desert, they can’t seem to figure out why you haven’t eaten it yet. Impatient, you look over and luke with a wanting gaze.
“Oh- right,” he says understandingly.
Percy is clearly confused by the seemingly telepathic communication. His eyes dart between you and Luke, your gaze once again set on your plate. Luke picks off the strawberries from his cake and places them on your plate. As soon as the first two strawberries are there you start devouring the cake like a ravenous hyena. Percy starts to wonder if you’re even chewing. Luke starts to eat some of his until he stops halfway. He puts the remaining piece of cake on your plate for you. You eat it immediately as if it was there the whole time.
“Are you gonna have that?” You ask politely, eyeing a large, red strawberry on Percy’s plate.
His eyes shift down to where your gaze is settled, “No, go ahead.”
You smile and take it with your fork, biting into it quickly. Percy’s eyes shift back to Luke, who’s been staring at you since the moment you sat down. His face held a small smile as he admired you. You smiled as you licked the whipped cream off your fork.
“I think I'm gonna get another slice!” You exclaim happily, standing up and nearly skipping to where the dryads are.
Luke watches as you leave, eyes falling on your figure.
“I never realized she liked strawberries that much,” Percy said.
“Yeah, I'm kinda surprised she hasn’t turned into one yet,” he laughs quietly.
“I assume you don’t like them that much? I mean- you gave her all of yours and half of the cake,” Percy explains.
“Strawberries? no way, they’re great. But she loves them so much, and I'd do anything to make her happy,” Luke smiles as he nibbles on the remains of one of your eaten berries.
You come back with a widest smile on your face. You hold another cake alongside a cup of strawberries. You sit down, happily eating more of the cake and strawberries.
“Isn’t it so great that Luke doesn’t like them? I get them all to myself!” You say, beaming.
“Yeah,,, perfect,” Percy says slowly, remembering the new found information.
“Mhm; I’d give my girl all the strawberries in the world if I could,” Luke mumbles.
Luke has a single mission in life, making you happy. Even if that means giving up his favorite fruit for you. Your smile is worth much more than a simple strawberry.
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nicksolemnlyswears · 3 months
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THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE
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summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
word count: 14.4k
warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.
a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!
this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!
i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.
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The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.
After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.
He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.
As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.
Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.
"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.
Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.
He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.
"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.
Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.
"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"
"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."
Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.
It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.
"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.
"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"
Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.
"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.
"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."
"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.
Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.
As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.
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Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.
For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.
Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.
All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.
One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.
He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.
"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.
As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.
Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.
You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."
You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'
"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."
"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.
Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.
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It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.
"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.
"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.
"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.
You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."
Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."
"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.
Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.
"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.
A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.
"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.
"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."
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Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.
Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.
You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.
He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.
One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.
Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.
"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.
"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.
You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"
You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.
"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.
"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.
"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.
"Deal."
Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.
This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.
"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.
Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.
"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.
"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.
You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.
"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?
"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.
It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.
"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.
"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.
Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.
"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.
"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.
Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.
"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.
He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?
He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"
"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.
"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.
"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.
If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."
A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.
"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.
You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"
Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'
"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.
"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.
"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."
"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.
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It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.
He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.
You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.
The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.
"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.
"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.
"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.
"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.
He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.
He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.
The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.
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Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.
"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.
"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.
"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.
"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.
"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.
"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.
Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."
"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.
"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."
Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."
Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.
"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.
"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.
"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.
"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.
Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."
"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.
"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.
"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.
"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"
"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.
"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.
Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.
"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.
"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."
"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.
"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.
"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.
"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.
Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.
He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.
Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.
As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.
When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.
You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.
You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"
"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.
You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"
"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.
"Are you going far?"
"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.
You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"
"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.
"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.
"You really don't have to…"
"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.
Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."
"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.
You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.
As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.
You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.
Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.
"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.
"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.
"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.
"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.
"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.
"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.
"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.
Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.
"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."
Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.
"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"
"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.
"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."
Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.
He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.
Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"
Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."
"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.
Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.
Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.
"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.
"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.
"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.
Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.
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It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.
He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.
"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.
"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.
"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.
"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.
"Late night?"
"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"
"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.
There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.
"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.
Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."
There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.
You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.
"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.
"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."
Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.
Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.
"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.
"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.
"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."
"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"
"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.
"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.
"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.
"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.
Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.
"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.
"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.
"You're forgiven," you chirp.
"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.
"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.
The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.
"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"
It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.
"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.
"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.
"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"
"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.
"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.
"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.
"So, rebellion or something else?"
"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."
"Did it work?"
"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."
Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"
"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.
Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.
"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.
"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."
Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'
"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.
"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"
"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.
"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.
The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.
Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.
"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.
Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."
Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.
"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.
"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.
"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.
"Night," he whispers.
As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.
Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.
As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.
The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?
He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.
When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.
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"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."
You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.
"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.
"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.
His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.
You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.
"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.
"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.
Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.
He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.
"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.
As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."
"You sure?" He asks once more.
If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."
"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.
When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.
Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.
"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.
"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.
"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.
"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.
Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.
"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.
Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.
Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."
"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.
"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.
Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.
"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.
Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"
Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."
"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."
"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.
"Yes, chef!"
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Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?
His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.
Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.
If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.
One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.
You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.
"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.
When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.
It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.
They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.
Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.
Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.
With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'
He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.
His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.
Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.
You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.
Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.
"Chef, your girl is here."
"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.
"Here you go."
Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.
I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear
"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.
"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.
"Yes, Chef!"
Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.
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"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.
Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."
"You too, Neil!"
"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.
Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"
"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.
"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.
"What about your famous pizza?"
"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"
"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."
"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."
Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.
"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.
"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.
You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.
"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.
"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.
"That rough," you grimace.
"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.
"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.
You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.
He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.
Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.
His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.
"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.
"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.
Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.
"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.
The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.
"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.
"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.
Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.
You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.
Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.
This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.
He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'
He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.
"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.
"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?
Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."
"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.
"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.
"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.
"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.
The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.
His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.
Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.
"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.
"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.
Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.
Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.
What good does he have to offer you?
"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."
You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.
His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.
"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."
Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.
You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.
"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.
"Then don't."
Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.
It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.
Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.
"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.
"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.
Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.
He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.
Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.
"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.
"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.
Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.
You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.
"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.
Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.
His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.
You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.
He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.
The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.
"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.
"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.
"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.
Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.
"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.
"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.
Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."
Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.
"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.
The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.
Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.
Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.
He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.
With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.
Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.
His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.
Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.
"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.
Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.
It's been so fuckin' long.
With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.
"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.
"Look at me," you sweetly say.
Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.
"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.
Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.
"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.
You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.
The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.
"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.
You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.
Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.
"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.
"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.
"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.
Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.
"Carmen, please."
"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.
"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.
"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."
"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.
Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.
With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.
Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.
Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.
"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.
"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.
"You like when I fuck you like this?"
"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."
His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.
Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.
His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.
Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.
Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.
"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.
"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?
Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.
"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.
"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."
He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.
Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.
"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.
You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.
He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.
"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.
"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.
There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.
A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.
For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.
You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.
"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.
Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?
"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.
"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.
You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.
Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.
A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.
"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.
Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.
"Exactly! Someone gets it!"
And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.
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A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.
"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.
"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.
"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.
"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.
Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.
As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.
"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."
Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.
Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.
"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.
"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.
Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.
"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.
"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.
"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.
Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.
"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"
"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.
"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.
You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.
When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.
"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.
"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.
The End?
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thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.
if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!
thank you! bye xx
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jj-one · 1 month
Text
HOW JUNGKOOK WOULD TREAT HIS BIMBO GF 🍥
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pairing: established relationship, bf!Jungkook x bimbo!fem!reader
genre/tags: smut, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, piv, unprotected sex, an*l, oral (m receiving), t*tty f*cking, drooling, use of the word daddy (only once)
**old repost from my deleted blog (05/24/23)
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- Having a drop dead gorgeous girlfriend was a given for Jungkook, he loved the fact that y’all were both smoking hot and turn heads everywhere you go
- The stark contrast between your appearances drove him insane
- His aesthetic was more dark and mystique, is also heavily tattooed while you always wore pink and pastels, having bare skin
- Is so enamored with the idea of you being the total opposite of him, he always feels like he’s corrupting your sweet innocence
- Kinda treats you like you’re his eye candy anywhere he goes, has you wrapped up on his arm like it’s a leash
- He’s been debating getting an actual leash for you since you constantly trip and fall whenever you’re out with him
- You were just so ditzy and clumsy… it was your character flaw yet Jungkook saw it as an endearing quality
- Also loved that you were an airhead, clingy, and always wanting his attention ;( makes the joy of him coming home to you all the more thrilling <33
- Always buying you pink and girly thingsss
- Whenever he sees something hello kitty or barbie related he instantly thinks of you and buys it
- CONSTANTLY wants to spoil you, omg this man would spend every dime he could on you just to make you happy
- He looooves taking you out shopping because that’s your favorite activity !!
- He splurged on you the other day, buying you any color of that Dior lip oil that you were obsessed with, it was worth it since he’d be the one taking it off your lips afterwards
- Jungkook enjoys watching you try on skimpy outfits for him, the shorter the skirt the better— don’t get him started on the way your hardened nipples peek out the fabric of your shirts…
- Likes to play dress up with you like you’re his personal doll
- He’ll put you in a pink lace slip dress one night and the next he’ll have you wear white see-through lingerie for him; that is only when you two are in private of course
- Frequently teaches you new things so you keep up to date with current news and other events, he knows you aren’t the brightest but you have a heart of gold and do your best to comprehend everything he tells you !
- When watching movies you often pause to ask questions about the film because you don’t get it
- Jungkook made you watch ‘Inception’ with him one time and it absolutely rotted your brain
- He enjoys explaining the movie to you in a babying way, dumbing it down for you to understand it as your mind is blown away by all the knowledge he drops on you
- Laughs at your inability to comprehend the plot and pats your head while teasing you
- “Awww, you poor little thing…can’t even understand the simple concept of a movie.”
- It really really really turns him on when you wear high heels, the higher the heels the higher the tent in his pants grew
- You wore the sexiest 6-inch stripper heels for him and he fucked you out completely while you had them on, he thinks he might have a heel fetish or something
- Absolutely adores your bright & bubbly personality !! Will praise you any time he hears you say something smart
- “Did you know that Sloths can hold their breath longer than Dolphins???” You would ask him randomly.
- “No I didn’t, but thanks for the fun fact babe. You sound so cute when you talk about things you’ve discovered.”
- “It was on the back of my Snapple cap, how cool is that?! See look!!”
- He will never not be impressed by your lack of awareness, you lived in your own little bubble and he wanted to shield you from all harm and scary things
- Is sooo completely obsessed with your body
- Your bouncy tits, your curvaceous hips, and your cute plump butt was the perfect sight to send the blood rushing to his cock
- Loves. To. Fuck. You. So. Dumb.
- Uses your hole like it’s a fleshlight and loves cumming inside you repeatedly
- Dumping all his cum into your little bimbo cunt was the only thing he needed in his life
- Often catches you drooling at him, when you do this he scoops it up with his finger and puts it back in your mouth
- His favorite part of sex with you is seeing your fucked out face
- The stare you give him while you deepthroat his cock was enough to make him combust
- “Look so pretty with my cock stuffed in your mouth, such a pretty little slut for me..”
- The way he would degrade you but praise you in the same breath confused you in many ways yet you enjoyed every minute of it
- Your makeup would be all smeared, mascara would be runny, the Dior lip gloss he bought you fully transferred to his cock now
- Can never choose between if he likes doggystyle or cowgirl more since both positions he gets to look at your assets with a nice view
- Lots of titty fucking, loves having your big round tits around his cock, making a mess all over your chest once you milk him clean
- He owns all your holes, he likes to use your tight little ass from time to time
- After lubing it up nice and gently, he would go to town on your ass just pounding into your fuck hole viciously
- “What a fucking whore you are, gonna keep fucking your tiny hole until I pump every last bit of my seed in you.”
- Turns him on so fucking much when you start babbling and unable to speak proper sentences
- You’d whimper and hiccup with frustration from the way his cock made you feel
- His love language will always be making you feel so low. So small compared to him that you don’t even feel worthy of his presence at times
- “Can’t stop drooling all over yourself? Already too dumb and fucked out to continue, hmm?? Oh never mind, you’re already dumb…just shut up and take daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are, you were made for taking cock anyway.”
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anantaru · 2 months
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albedo with a breeding kink?
cw. breeding kink, you guys are kinda reckless, implications of wanting to get you pregnant!!!!!, fem! reader
a/n. albedo + breeding is so canon, like there's no way it isn't
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albedo knows of the risks of deciding against using a condom tonight, and if anything, he was aware of it more than anybody else— although you said it's alright, only for this one time, ultimately you sought after feeling him inside of you as well, raw and pressed up deep against your most dearest places.
the possible consequences? well, certainly they could be dealt with after.
what's more to it, such prospect of naivety was quite audacious, yes, perhaps, but albedo had always inspired you to try out reckless things— because believe it or not but he was a fan of trying out new kinks in the bedroom, maybe for research purposes or simple curiosity.
for all you know, it could also be his way of figuring out the notions he found to be delicious.
now, one of his hands was clenched at the side of your thigh to keep you steadied while the other was wrapped around himself, slowly pumping his length to the bare sight of you as his cock stayed perfectly settled against your sopping folds, sticking and messing up your core with his pre.
you admire his chest, how it seems like he was just perfect, no flaws, barely dusted with sweat, at any rate that little glow on his skin made him even more beautiful.
his abs too, incandescent without blemish, sculpted with lean muscle.
albedo slowly taps the head of his cock against your hole and smiles when he notices how your slick was immediately covering him. as though sensing his stare, your hips shuffle up to play with him, in fact, giving your boyfriend a clear indicator that you've waited for him long enough turned him on even more.
to be able to jam you with his cum tonight sent even more blood rushing down to his dick until he hisses at the slight throbs his shaft would set free, until of course, he decided it was time for his cock to bury its inches inside of your melting walls.
his hips start to go fast immediately— each thrust multiplying its rhythm to the point where you could feel his warm ruts pervade your skin. it's almost cruel, as were his eyes so heated and hungry, pupils blown as his gaze slips up and down the connection of your joined bodies.
what had first started out as a foreplay session with no rush and taking ones time, now gradually developed into something much more delicious.
albedo wasn't drawing your pleasure out anymore nor did he want to keep you waiting any longer either, he stopped the teasing too— although he would still squeeze and pinch your erect nipples to keep them all nicely for him.
no taunting anymore, no tapping his cock-head against your folds or fucking you with his tip to watch your sweet reactions set the room on fire, because you see, albedo was seeking his own pleasure in this moment— said pleasure not being the climax himself, but the lewd sight of you taking him and that need to splatter his cum all over your sore walls until your legs were beginning to shake around his hips.
your lips part and you moan lowly as he pushes his chest against your own, the precious sounds slipping from your mouth breaking into rough parts as your walls wrap around him ever do tight, leaving the man breathless and hot inside.
instead of rolling into each movement, albedo decides on a different approach and rocks his hips back and forth your pussy, switching between as fast as he could go while then going slower again, forcing you to feel the way his cock presses up against the sweet spot inside of you, fast and slow fast and slow, taking only slight adjustment on his tempo as to make you feel the pressure all the way across your lower area, the feeling that he knew made your eyes roll back into your head.
that's what it was in the end, the pleasure that sent you aflame, too much for too little of time, making you want more as you both come undone, you two at the same time.
albedo's hips buck needily as they stutter through each thrust when you throb and clench down on him, cumming strongly all around his shaft until he could feel a filthy ring of whiteness cover his dripping erection.
a needy, god-awful whimper escapes his throat as he moans luxuriously into your neck when he feels his cum rush to all the right places, the tight entanglement of your walls pressing tight against his shaft spiking electric bolds through his nerves.
although his hips won't stop moving yet.
much to his surprise, your cunt still took him impossibly deep, so tight and wet and unable to slide himself out. yet you're utterly spent that you had to rely on him holding your legs up. even so, you didn't want to lose the connection yet and neither was your boyfriend as he decided to keep himself stored in you.
sure enough, albedo wanted to stay like this for a while, or even longer, because he knew if he was to pull out now, all of his hard work would come to waste and you'd be empty of him much faster than he could even process.
otherwise than that, he really hoped it had worked tonight, there's no way that it wouldn't have, right? after all, his precise calculations always seems to be right.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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ssahotchnerr · 3 months
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GIRL 👏🏻 DAD 👏🏻 AARON 👏🏻 learning how to do his wife’s hair so he can do baby girls hair when she’s grown
uncharted territory
YOU'RE 👏🏻 SO 👏🏻 RIGHT 👏🏻 cw; girl dad!aaron, fem!reader, some small suggestiveness, fluff <3
"can i braid your hair?"
you looked at aaron as your book dropped onto your lap, both a bit bewildered and astonished, "can you what?"
"braid your hair." the expression adorned on his face was almost troubled as he approached you, and rather shyly at that, actually.
"that's what i thought you said." your eyebrow quirked, displaying a caring and soft confusion. "why?"
"jus' something penelope said today, it made me realize that i don't know how to do hair. never had the need to learn with jack." the grumpiness on his face didn't falter, a small huff escaping him. "i know she doesn't have much of it now, but i don't want to be one of those dads who attempt to do their daughter's hair, it's a phenomenal disaster, and it looked better off before i even touched it. i refuse to send her off somewhere someday looking like she went through a windstorm."
"aaron, honey, i don't think you're capable of anything too disastrous." you teased gently, but with full reassurance.
he almost smiled, the ends of his lips tugging upwards, but evidently he wasn't fully convinced. "so can i? i need the practice, desperately."
"of course," you nodded, scooting towards the center of the bed and sitting cross-legged, aaron seated behind you.
once situated, he took your hair gingerly into his hands, "how do i..."
"you're going to want to separate it into three sections," you started, pausing to let him do so. "kinda gather it like a ponytail to get started."
"okay, that i've done before."
"yeah, you're good at that." you rolled your eyes, a faint blush tinting your cheeks and you could easily picture the smirk that was definitely plastered on aaron's face. "you good?"
"i think so."
"take the right side, and cross it over the middle section." you instructed, again giving him a small window of time to weave your hair gently. "then do the same on the left, the right section should have switched places with the middle."
"mhm." aaron hummed gently in confirmation, biting down softly onto his lip in concentration, crossing the left section over the now center.
"and just repeat down, alternating as you just did."
"that's it?"
"that's literally it."
aaron repeated the cycle, braiding with ease. "and i'm not hurting you? am i pulling-"
"no no no, you're completely fine." you reached a bit behind, your hand finding his knee and giving it a comforting squeeze. "keep going."
although it was a simple braid, his fingers nearly got tangled a few times, due to the size of said fingers and the limited, slightly tight space that came along with braiding. he also tugged your head back and forth a small amount, but you followed the direction of his gentle pulls. as he worked silently, your heart could only swell at his genuine concern and want to learn - just for your little girl.
once he reached the end of your braid, you tore off the hair tie that was conveniently around your wrist. "secure with this."
aaron was quick learner in nature; he watched you intently as you pulled your braid over your shoulder to inspect it quickly. it was a bit loose, a tad crooked, but the gist of it was there - almost perfect.
you peered behind at him, thoroughly impressed. "not bad."
"really?" aaron asked surprisingly, but with an utterly pleased expression.
"but don't get too cocky," you narrowed your eyebrows playfully, swiveling to face him. "this is the easy one to master. there's french braids, dutch, fishtail. one day she'll want one braid, maybe two the next. trust me, it's bound to get way more complicated than this."
the proud gleam in his eyes faded a bit as his face blanched, pulling into a pained expression, deadpanning. "you're kidding."
"but don't worry, we have plenty of time."
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sheerioswifties · 1 year
Text
Okay I- I saw the post from Claire that uh kinda confirms theories that BTTWS may be about a close friend having a m*scarriage and it all makes sense and Claire even quotes it and my heart HURTS for her I mean I've been there both ways too I've also been the friend up all night while someone very close to me went through it and also a very premature birth it's all gutwrenching (and side note I almost wanted to warn my friend not to listen to BTTWS bc it's heartbreaking but the more I listen to it the more I see how actually perfectly and beautifully Taylor put it which I can go on about in another post but) I just- it- it's still bothering me- that she uses the phrase "could've been, would've been, should've been..." as part of the chorus of that song, a very specific phrase, and then she literally used that phrase as the TITLE of her J**** M**** song (do we have a calcium harvest like name for that asshole yet?)... but so like- she never does ANYTHING like that unintentionally. That's too much of a coincidence for those songs not to be somehow connected and it is BOTHERING me it's legitimately kept me up at midnight pondering what is going on it just. It bothers me. I love Taylor. I love Claire. So much pain and heartache I just sgstfisostsotsotsost
#and also the possible explanations i can come up with i just idk#like could it just be as simple as the phrase just worked well in totally separate contexts but since it does seem odd to use that twice...#...like maybe that's why they're both bonus/3am songs bc they wouldn't fit the narrative/would be confusing?#or is it the other way around were they both purposely put together on the 3am#and then like. . did it happen to Taylor (and if it did i think it was early on not with Joe as ppl speculated but that's just theory) and..#...she wanted to get it out there like she has with a lot on this album#and maybe she thought it would be ambiguous enough that ppl wouldn't guess it was about miscarriage rather a metaphor for#her girlhood/the person she might have been/something like that#but then when everyone started with the miscarriage theory bc I'm sorry especially if you've been through it you hear that song and that's#the only thing it could be but so was it like oof they figured it out and so did Claire decide to share her experience to kinda help? ??#like again obvs either way Claire did go through it and i just feel for her so much and it makes perfect sense that Taylor would have been#there grieving alongside her but the song is sung as if it's happened to Taylor...#...but then again she could be doing what Ed did with small bump and singing from the perspective of the mother idk idk#just... why did she specifically use that phrase for both those songs. she's a genius lyricist she could use another for one of them but she#chose to use that for both songs so i just#but bottom line I DO NOT WANT TO PUT OUT SPECULATION ABOUT TAYLORS PRIVATE LIFE so please nobody take this and run with it ok#I'm just theorizing on songs she chose to put out there and we always interpret her songs how we do and sometimes she confirms things#sometimes she doesn't so I'm just like getting this out there but at the same time like PLEASE nobody go try and talk to her /bother#her about that topic that's one we i think need to just not bring up unless she does/makes it clear to do so#but yeah i just fully went on in the tags huh. ..you know what that means i gotta do#if you've read this far you now owe me an ask :) hi
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nnight-dances · 11 months
Text
REPETITION / RARE LOVE
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pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)
genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content
tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting
warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.
WHAT TO EXPECT
it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)
OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.
SEQUEL OUT NOW!
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“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.
“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”
you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”
mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”
“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.
you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”
“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”
you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”
you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”
“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”
“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”
you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”
“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”
“i don't want an answer.”
“…”
"because i'm going to move on from him!"
"..."
“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”
“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”
“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.
yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”
you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”
“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”
“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”
yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”
you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”
“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”
“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”
you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.
“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”
“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.
“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”
you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”
“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”
“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”
jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”
you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”
he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”
“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”
you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”
“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”
you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”
five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.
he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.
“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”
“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”
“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”
you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”
time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”
“zuha, hi! did you—”
“yep, i got your lip gloss.”
you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”
mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”
kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”
“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”
“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”
“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”
“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”
“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”
mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”
“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”
you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”
“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.
“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”
“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”
mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”
you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”
“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.
“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”
kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”
jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”
“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.
swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—
you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”
he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”
you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”
you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”
“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”
“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”
“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”
you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”
the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.
as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”
mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”
“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”
he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”
“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”
he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”
an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.
the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.
big gyu: u look good
big gyu: kinda basic tho
you: yea i thought so too
you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.
candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.
however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.
you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”
you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.
“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”
you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”
“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”
jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”
you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”
“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”
“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.
big gyu: niceee thats hot
big gyu: u should get this dress
big gyu: pls
big gyu: pls
you: …girl why are u begging me
big gyu: because.
big gyu: you’re getting this dress right
you: no i’d die of overheating in it
big gyu: and it’d be worht it
you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...
you: wtv this one's rejected.
you: i still have another dress to try
you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.
“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”
you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”
“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”
“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”
mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”
“ugh, alright, give me five.”
in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.
“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”
you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”
“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”
“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”
his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”
you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.
“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”
jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.
“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”
“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”
you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”
he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.
as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.
entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.
you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.
you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”
“can i talk to you for a sec?”
you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”
“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”
“but, the others—”
“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”
out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.
you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”
you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”
“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”
you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.
you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”
you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”
sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”
you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.
the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.
sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.
the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.
you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.
his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.
“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”
you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”
mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”
you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”
mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”
“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”
he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”
“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”
she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”
you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.
“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"
“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”
he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”
you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”
“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”
“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”
“who’d be the father then?”
your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.
“did something happen between you two?”
“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”
mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”
you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”
“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”
“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.
you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”
after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.
“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”
“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”
“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”
“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”
“don’t be like that, y/n.”
“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”
mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)
“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”
“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”
“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”
mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"
“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”
he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”
you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”
“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”
“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”
he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”
you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”
“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”
“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”
“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”
“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”
“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”
“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.
mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”
you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”
“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”
“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”
hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”
the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?
hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”
hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”
“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”
he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”
you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”
“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.
“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”
hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”
“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”
“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”
you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.
he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”
you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”
ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.
it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.
that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.
but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.
“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”
“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”
he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.
“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.
“you’re right. routine is good for people.”
“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”
“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.
“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”
he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”
“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”
“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”
your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”
“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.
“do you ever think we should be more?”
mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”
“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”
it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.
if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.
“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.
you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”
mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”
“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”
“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”
it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.
“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”
this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”
“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”
you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”
“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”
mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.
you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)
he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”
“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.
“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.
as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.
his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.
so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”
you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.
he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.
“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.
“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.
he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."
mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.
it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.
he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.
it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.
the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.
space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”
mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.
“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”
“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.
maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”
jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”
“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.
“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.
the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.
or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—
you. you’re here.
almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.
when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.
mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.
he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.
“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”
mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.
“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.
you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.
“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”
jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.
but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”
the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.
that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.
you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.
“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.
you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.
you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”
he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”
you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”
“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.
“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”
when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.
mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”
but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.
“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”
“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.
you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.
but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”
when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”
and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.
but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.
you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.
“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.
“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”
“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.
jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”
“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”
“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”
“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”
you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.
suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.
your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.
you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.
he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”
you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”
you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.
his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”
mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”
of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.
so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.
“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.
that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.
you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”
ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.
back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”
“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”
“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”
“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”
you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”
“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.
“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”
you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”
mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”
you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”
with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”
you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”
suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.
you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.
anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!
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barefoothighlander · 1 year
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call me little sunshine
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-summary: you come home for summer break to find a new man has moved in next door, he’s charming and mysterious so you welcome him to the neighbourhood
-simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader
-warnings: mdni 18+, dark themes, slight stalker!ghost, dub con, corruption, masturbation (fem), unprotected p-in-v, fingering, creampie, dumbification kinda, size kink, dom!ghost, orgasm denial, ghost has a filthy mouth, spit play if you squint, loss of virginity, oral (fem rec), mention of alcohol, mention of scars, age gap (reader is in 20s, ghost is in 30s)
next part masterlist
a/n: this is pure smut with plot and I regret nothing, this fic contains dark themes so please be advised, also not proofread.
The air was thick, its humidity almost choking you as the sound of thick waves lapping on the beach overtook your hearing, the hot June sun welcoming you as you stepped out onto the porch. You loved being home, even if it was only for a few months, you missed the simplicity of being there, no coursework to worry about, no job weighing on your mind just cold lemonade and swimming in the ocean.
As you situate yourself on your porch, book in hand your eye is caught by the sight of a large broody man moving boxes next door, your dad hadn’t told you that anyone new was moving in, you didn’t even know the previous owners had left, shame, you really liked them, you shake him from your mind and return to your book, settling in against the soft seat cushion.
You read for a while before feeling yourself grow thirsty, moving to the kitchen of the house to find something to drink, as you look out the window above the sink you see him again, only this time he’s not wearing a shirt, it’s tucked into the band of his jeans, every sweat covered muscle gleaming in the sunlight. Your eyes linger on his form before he catches you, stopping what he was doing and giving you a polite smile, you feel your cheeks blush as you return the sentiment with a shy wave, moving out of view to set your back against the wall.  Your skin was hot, you figured it had to be from the weather outside deciding to change into something a little more comfortable for the weather, returning outside in a short white dress, patterned with small bumble bees, it sat low on your chest with thin straps that tied into little knots, perfect for the warm weather.
You glance over toward your car, noticing it could use a little cleaning, grabbing a few rags and making your way over, you lean over the hood, dousing the mental in soapy water, moving around, scrubbing different spots, you stand up, legs drenched in water as you hose down the vehicle.
“You’ll have to clean mine sometime” you hear from behind you, turning your head to see him, he’s practically glowing, you have to raise a hand to the sun just to look at him, he’s close, close enough that you can make out every groove of muscle, every scar that littered his toned form, the only thing you can’t make out is the dark ink that decorated his forearm.
“My truck is pretty dirty” he says breaking your trance.
“Oh,” you laugh
“Guess that happens during a move” He gestures toward a large stack of boxes.
You stifle a laugh, “Yeah doesn’t look great”
He smiles, it’s bright and genuine, “I’m Simon” extending a large hand toward you, you smile raising your hands to show the dirty water on them as he laughs, grabbing yours, enveloping it, lightly running a thumb over the skin, the simple contact making you swallow a lump in your throat.
“Right well, I should probably go shower”
He releases your hands, looking at the wetness on his palm that had transferred, watching your dress blow slightly in the wind, threatening to give him a peek at your ass, taunting him, he clicks his tongue before returning to his own work.
The shower does little to soothe you, a growing sensation in your lower stomach as you enter your room, towel-clad body moving around to pick out comfy clothes, it was nearing nightfall, the sound of cicadas echoing outside your open window, remnants of the sunset bathing your bedroom in a warm glow, you huff a breath to yourself, resting on your bed, hips wiggling a bit trying to ease the gentle thrum between your legs, you try to distract yourself with a book but with every turn of the page you find your mind wandering to him, his broad form glowing in the sun, the gleam of his smile, his dark eyes that stared into your soul. Putting your book to the side you gently move your fingers down your body, ghosting over the hem of your panties, teasing ever so slightly before dipping below the band, gentle fingers circling over your clit. You elicit a quiet moan, not used to the sensation, you continue circling as your jaw falls slack, free hand coming to cup at your breast under your shirt, you quicken your pace, back arching off the bed as whispers of moans fall from your open lips, images of your neighbour flashing before your eyes, you imagine his fingers, rough, roaming over your skin, teasing over your sensitive bud as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten, you grip the sheets as your orgasm washes over you, whimpers of his name falling from your tongue. You lay in your bed breathless, turning over in your bed as sleep takes over your mind.
You woke early the next morning, your skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as the heat creeps in through your window, you rub your eyes and move to get dressed, you had to go into town and it was hot again today, you settled on a simple skirt and tank top, something that would let your skin breath as you packed your bag, bidding your Dad a good morning before getting into your car. Your errands took longer than expected, a harsh rain setting over the terrain as you pulled into your driveway, you catch a glimpse of Simon on his porch, a glass of whiskey in hand as he watched the rain fall, offering him a small smile before making your way to the door, digging through your bag to find your keys, panic setting in when you realized they were nowhere to be seen, you peer through the window, willing someone inside to appear and let you in, out of the pouring rain, but no one’s there. Defeated you turn your back against the wall, huffing a breath.
“Locked out?” you hear him call, standing in the safety of his covered entrance.
“Yeah, forgot my keys inside”
“Did you want to wait inside mine?” he offers
You think for a minute, “No that’s alright, I can handle a little rain” you laugh
“You’re gonna catch a cold” he states plainly
You mull it over in your mind, you really didn’t want to be standing in the rain, you nod and make your way over to him, you miss the way his eyes linger on your form, your clothes soaked, clinging to your skin, allowing him the perfect view of your breasts and ass.
“Here come inside”
The two of you step inside, you look around the room, it’s not heavily decorated but small trinkets litter the shelves, a couple plaques hung around the room.
“Wait here, I’ll get you some dry clothes”
You remain still in your spot, and he returns with a small stack of clothes.
“Bathrooms over there doll”
You smile before making your way, his eyes glued to your curves, watching the way your hips move as you walk away. You close the door, stripping your clothes before throwing on the ones he had given you, no doubt belonging to him considering the way they hung loosely on your body, your hair was drenched but there was nothing you could do about it. You return to him standing at the bar,
“Give me those” he says hand extending to the mess of wet clothes in your hand, taking them from you to throw them in the dryer.
“You can sit if you’d like” he points toward the couch across the room,
Smiling at him before making your way over, he follows, propping himself right next to you, you can feel the heat emanating from his body as he reaches an arm to rest behind your head.
“So you just moved in?” you try to make conversation
He takes a swig of his drink turning to face you, “About a week ago, it’s a nice spot”
You nod, “I grew up here, parents moved when I was 4”
“Mmm I didn’t see you when I moved in”
“I just got back from school, summer break”
“Ah, university?” he asks, innocently enough
“Yea, I’m studying history”
“Interesting stuff”
You nod in response,
“I’ve got some old books upstairs, unpublished works from people who’s names I can’t pronounce”
“Where’d you find them?” slight smile creeping onto your face
“Can’t remember, wanna check them out?”
You nod as he guides you up the stairs, leading you into a small study, a sizeable bookshelf sits in the corner, beside a large grey safe.
“What’s in the safe” you turn to face him, he’s leaning against the doorway pinning you under his stare.
“Nothing you need to worry about doll”
You blush at the nickname, he moves across the room picking out an old leather bound book and handing it to you, his fingers ghosting over yours, the contact sends chills up your spine.
“I haven’t read this one” you say shyly
“Well it’s yours anytime you want it” he says, fingers roaming up your bare arms, your eyes are locked on his, body frozen from the contact.
“Can I ask you a question?” he says, leaning down to place his lips next to your ear, his English accent suddenly thicker, his words drenched in honey, you nod, unable to think of words. “Do you like teasing me”, you quirk your eyebrow,
“Huh?”
He smiles against your neck, his hot breath making your hairs stand on end,
“The tiny dresses, the practically see through tops, bending over right in front of me”
You’re confused, “I don’t know what you’re talking about." He bites at your neck causing a small moan to fall from your lips,
“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about love”
You shake your head, “No I swear-” your words cut short at the feeling of his palms roaming under your loose top, coming to rest under the curve of your breasts, your breath hitches as you feel the pad of his thumb come to swipe over your hard nipple.
“Think you can get away with it hmm, making me hard, serving yourself up on a platter for me”
Your eyes flick to his, “I wasn’t- I didn’t mean to”
He shushes you, his hands moving down to grab at the meat of your ass as he presses his body into you, the firm contact of his length pressing against your thigh making you drop the book in your hands.
“S’alright doll, I’ll give you what you need”
You clench your eyes as you feel his hand cup your sex,
“Tsk, no panties, and you tell me you aren’t teasing”
“Th- they were wet”
“Mm so are you” He strokes two fingers through your slit, grazing your clit, forcing your head to fall forward against his shoulder as your hands grip his shirt. He teases over your clit, as you try to grind yourself onto his palm, desperate for contact.
“Needy girl” he whispers, kissing at your pulse point, he slides a finger into you, groaning at the way you clench him.
“Fuck you’re tight, gonna have to work you open for me huh” He grins a sadistic grin, peering at your scrunched face. He continues fucking you with one finger, his rough palm colliding with your clit, creating the perfect mixture of contact that has you teetering on the edge. As you’re about to tip off the edge he removes his hand, earning a whine from you, whimpering at the loss of contact, the heat still burning in your lower stomach.
“Stand up for me pretty girl”
You do as he says, feeling his arms grip under your knees, easily lifting you from the ground to plant you on the desk, kissing at your collarbone as he finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. The cool air grazes your skin as goosebumps begin to form, you watch him with doe eyes as he sinks down, lips latching onto your nipple, his hand coming to toy with the other, he sucks your nipple in, biting it lightly earning a gasp from you as he moves to give the same treatment to the other. He sucks at the valley of your breasts as he moves to take off your pants, urging you to lift up a little so he can slide them off, he moves back, hands spreading your legs as he’s looking at your dripping pussy.
“Such a perfect little cunt” he says, placing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a stripe through your folds, stopping at the top to tease over your sensitive bud, you instinctively clamp your legs, he grips your thighs, spreading your legs wide allowing him to kneel directly in front of you, the sensation is too much, you’re a mess of moans and whimpers, that familiar heat boiling in your stomach as you clench around nothing, he studies your movements, detaching himself at the last second to bring you slowly back from the edge, you try to grab his head to move him back but he stands firm.
“You’ll cum when I want you to”
You whimper,
“Tell me what you want baby”
You force the words from your throat, "I want to cum”
“Use your manners”
“Please, let me cum”
He smirks, fingers pinching at your nipples, bringing his fingers back to your leaking hole, you moan at the stretch, he pumps slowly, easing you into it as he watches your face contort with pleasure before latching his lips back to your clit. He pumps his fingers into you quicker, your moans growing louder, he bites lightly at your bud at you elicit a yelp, replacing his fingers with his tongue, his thumb circling over your clit, you’re so close you could scream.
“Come on baby, cum on my tongue, taste so good” His praise dries you forward, your hands gripping his hair as your back arches, your orgasm taking over your body, a blinding white light obstructing your view as your moans fall from your open mouth.
“Good girl,” he says, moving up to kiss you harshly, “taste that baby? so sweet”
Your breath is heavy, your mind clouded from your orgasm, you feel weightless as he picks you up, laying you back against the desk.
“Wait” you manage, “I’ve never”, his smirks grows
“Aw baby, are you a virgin”
You nod sheepishly, his mind floods with a million ideas, but right now, he has to feel you. He climbs over your body stripping himself of his clothes, your eyes come into contact with his hard length, widening at the sight.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle” he coos, tip teasing at your folds, he grabs your knees, spreading you wide forcing your body against the mattress as he holds you under his weight, even if you wanted to fight back you couldn’t, body weak from his touch. He pushes in slowly, just the tip at first, watching as your eyes squeeze shut.
“Look at me, wanna watch you as my cock splits you open”
You follow his command, scared of what might happen if you didn’t, as he pushes in further, the stretch of him practically tearing you in half,
“Fuck baby not even half way and you’re squeezin me so tight”
You moan at his words as he continues to press into you inch by inch before bottoming out,
“That’s it baby, just relax”
His thrusts are shallow and slow, easing you into it as your hands cling to his shoulders, he pushes in deep as your back arches, your clit grazing against his pubic hair. He places a firm hand on your lower stomach,
“Fuck, you see that doll” You glance down at where your bodies meet, “Can practically see myself inside you”
Your body fights against the intrusion, the pain of him pressing against your cervix, you’re writhing under him but he leans down to cage you against the bed as he starts fucking into you faster. You’re breathless, careless moans slip from your mouth.
“You feel so good, don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop myself”
You moan in response and he laughs, “Only had my cock for a minute and already can’t talk, you cockdrunk baby,” he says, hand grabbing at your jaw to hold it open before leaning up to spit in your mouth, 
“Swallow it” he orders, and you do, the remnants of his whiskey linger, burning your throat as he continues fucking you at a relentless pace, your muscles are weak as he moves back, gripping your thighs tight to your chest, holding you down with his weight.
“I’m gonna fill this little pussy, let everyone know you’re mine” he grunts
You shake your head, trying to tell him no but it comes out as mumbles,
“Shit I’m sorry love, just feels too good”
You claw at him but he persists, long strokes filling you as his balls slap against the skin of your ass,
“Squeezin me so tight, m’gonna cum”
Your attempts at refusal are useless as his balls tighten, pressing himself deep into you as the warm sensation floods your abused hole, fucking into you a few more times making sure you got every last drop before pulling out, he steps back to examine his work, pressing a finger into you,
“Gotta make sure it all stays in”
You groan at the intrusion, the contact making you twitch slightly, he moves beside you placing a kiss on your head,
“Did so well angel”
Your body is jello, limbs exhausted as he holds you tight to him, moving you to the bed across the hall. You don’t know when you fell asleep but you wake up and he’s gone, the remnants of his spend leaking from your sensitive cunt, as you try to get up, noticing the pile of clothes set next to the bed, you dress carefully, trying to maintain your balance and making your way down the stairs, noticing his broad form sat on one of the porch chairs, you creep your way to him, standing by his side.
“Better get home pretty girl, Daddy’s back,” he says nodding towards your father's car in the driveway, your throat is dry, as you walk back to your home, you feel his eyes glued to you, you feel like his prey. You step inside and are greeted by your parents asking about your day, your mind freezes,
“Are you alright honey?”
You take a minute, “Yeah just, super tired I guess, I’m gonna head upstairs” sparing them a smile before making your way to your room, you step into the shower trying to wash everything off you, the warm water soothes your body before you step out, looking at your form in the mirror, noticing a deep purple mark between your breasts, running a light hand over it. You change into pyjamas and settle into bed, your mind is tired, your body is tired, you toss and turn trying to get comfortable, cringing at the feeling of Simon's seed still spilling from you, you turn over in your bed, clenching your eyes shut hoping you were simply imagining him as once again sleep takes over your body.
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seakicker · 1 year
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mother's day hc that you tell the genshin boys you're pregnant on mother's day so they decide to celebrate by getting you double pregnant?
YES MA’AM i had a randomizer pick four names for me out of all the guys i write for… kinda laughing at 3/4 of them being all the Serious, Stoic ones lol
fem reader, pregnancy, breeding, overstimulation (alhaitham) and knotting (gorou) below!
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alhaitham
You can never be too sure, he says— a good, valid experiment hinges upon proper reliability. Do you know how many undergraduate experimental reports he’s dismissed on account of their supposed “results” being the chance of mere coincidence or random chance? It never hurts to eliminate the possibility of a false positive and to ensure that your positive pregnancy test result is a true positive by breeding you all over again and having you take another pregnancy test in five weeks or so.
When you tell him you’re pregnant, he responds with a quiet nod before almost analyzing all of the behavior you’ve displayed over the last few weeks. Yes, the news makes perfect sense— last week, Alhaitham overheard you wondering aloud if your period was late or if you had just tracked it wrong, and he’d have to be a fool to not know what a missed period is the universal signifier of. The news comes at a perfect time, so he couldn’t be happier— though your husband certainly has a… uniquely stoic way of expressing happiness.
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That night, he replicates every last aspect of the night he imagines he got you pregnant some five weeks ago (it’s a simple calculation, really) down to your spot on the bed and the clothes he was wearing just to make sure that a false positive is out of the question. Perhaps he’ll have to come inside if you twice tonight just to really seal the deal that you’re pregnant— once is chance, twice is a coincidence, and thrice is a true pattern. You’d like to try and convince him that surely there’s no need for all of this, that pregnancy tests rarely, rarely fail or show an incorrect result, but there’s no pushing back against your husband’s logical calculations or sense of reason— not that you’re much in the condition to even try to speak with him anyways.
When your husband has you spread open wide with your knees pressed up against either side of your chest, a light conversation is absolutely out of the picture. You’d consider it a feat to muster up anything other than splintered whines of your husband’s name and delicate pleas for him to slow down— though, truthfully, it’d be an even bigger feat if you managed to successfully convince Alhaitham of doing the latter. He hasn’t stalled or slowed his pace for even a fraction of a second because he, of course, is trying to replicate the night he very likely knocked you up exactly, and he just so happened to be absolutely railing you that night.
“You can certainly take more than this.” That’s all he offers when you beg him to slow down again. “I’ve discovered, met, and exceeded every last one of your limits myself, and this pace, this position, and this fervor hardly come close to any of those. I’m simply validating your claim before I take to preparing the spare room for our child.”
You gasp and let your head fall back against the pillow, defeated and overwhelmed in equal tandem by your husband’s delightful Mother’s Day plans.
Alhaitham only chuckles once, a satisfied smirk so faint on his lips that you almost don’t catch it at all. “You’ll be alright. We’ll have nine entire months to be gentle.”
zhongli
Zhongli has lived a normal human lifetime nearly ninety times over— yet, fascinatingly, he always insists he’s come nowhere close in experiencing everything life, nature, humanity, and civilization have to offer, an assertion you’ve always found downright impossible to fathom. How does somebody not get bored after six thousand years of life? You know people who are bored after just four years of working in the same career before they jump ship and try to find something, anything completely different.
He offers the exact same explanation every single time you once again ask how he still finds things to do, places to go, and activities to enjoy after being alive for so long— he always, always smiles softly and explains that he never gets bored with life because you’re in it, and you show him new things, new foods, and new ways to love and enjoy the world that he never even imagined prior to meeting you.
You’ll admit that you’ve found his reasoning somewhat hard to believe on a few separate occasions— like he’s seriously been alive for over six thousand years, yet he’s never tried red bean ice cream from Inazuma before? It’s not exactly a rare or expensive good. However, there are other times when you think you understand what he means, and his logic has never been more evident than today because you told your darling husband that you’re pregnant this morning.
“I’ve never been a father before,” Zhongli hums as he presses a wide circle of kisses all around the cusp of your tummy. “I’ve tutored and taught many, but I’ve never raised a child as my own from their very birth.”
“Does it make you nervous?” You grip his left hand a little tighter as his right comes to rub a soothing circle over the apex of your soft belly.
He pauses for a moment. “I see no reason to be afraid of new experiences, let alone ones I have you to guide me through. I’ve found that sampling life’s uncertainties and navigating its surprises provide far more enrichment than routine.”
You laugh. “I don’t think I can do much ‘guiding’ here, my love— I’ve never been a mother before either. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Zhongli melts. How do you always know just how to tickle his heart with the most innocuous of statements?
“And that is exactly why I’m not nervous— because we’ll have each other to both learn from and learn alongside. I’ve spent the vast majority of my life being the teacher and not the student, so opportunities to learn with you excite me.”
All you can do is hide your face with your free hand, your cheeks warm and your grin obvious. Your husband chuckles and kisses a line down the bottom half of your tummy, down your hips, and all the way down, down, down until he runs into the fabric of your panties.
“I’ve read that intimacy during pregnancy has an array of positive effects for a mother,” Zhongli notes, gently sliding a hand down to tug your panties to the side. “We’ll have to try every last tip and wives’ tale, won’t we, my love?”
diluc
Completely opposite to that of Zhongli, Diluc’s perspective on celebratory sex on Mother’s Day is that it’s about as tired, cliche, and lazy as celebratory sex on a birthday, New Year’s Eve, or Valentine’s Day. Really, any other holiday where people feel the need to either supplement their actual present with sex because they fear what they really bought their spouse just isn’t good enough on its own or because they forgot to get them a present entirely.
Or so he says.
He’s always been of the opinion that love and intimacy expressed on a random day of the year without any special meaning bears more weight than celebratory holiday sex— why should sex be included as part of the celebratory experience when a married couple is expected to regularly display intimacy towards one another? You’ve teased him about this cynical, grumpy take plenty of times, but you’ve almost come to agree with him regardless— it’s hard to even have the energy for sex at the end of your birthday or on the evening of Valentine’s Day when you’re just so exhausted by everything Diluc planned for you during the day. Perhaps it’s entirely because he doesn’t take special occasions lightly that he sees no need to end the day on a cliche.
Well, there’s a first for everything.
“I thought you don’t do celebratory sex,” you whimper with a sharp inhale. You had meant for the statement to sound more teasing and alluring, but it’s damn near impossible to keep your composure when your husband’s spent the past hour and a half between your legs.
Diluc, for the first time in ninety minutes, actually pulls away from your slick, saliva-coated pubic mound to stare up at you over your tummy. How amusing— this is the smallest he’ll see your tummy for the next nine months, and something tells him he’s not going to miss it whatsoever.
“We’ve never celebrated Mother’s Day before simply because you were never a mother for any of them. Today is different— and of course this news deserves celebration.” That’s right— you did mention to Diluc that you’re pregnant this morning over breakfast, didn’t you?
You take advantage of this impromptu break to make eye contact with your husband, who hasn’t looked this… disheveled in quite some time. Bangs plastered to his forehead, nose and chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your fluids, and pupils blown wide with desire, this is a Diluc you don’t get to see very often— and you know how to revel in the treat.
“Making exceptions to your own rules doesn’t suit you.” There, that one actually sounded teasing.
He offers a sort of shrug in response. “I’d have to be devoid of all emotion entirely to not want to celebrate my wife’s body when she tells me it’s pregnant with our very first child.” He glides his soaked lips down the inside of your thighs elegantly and with purpose, taking care to stop just before where thigh meets labia to really relish in your scent.
“Besides,” Diluc murmurs. “I’d like to map out how your body looks now so I can properly appreciate how much lovelier you’ll look once you begin to actually show how well I’ve bred you.”
gorou
Gorou tentatively asks you to repeat yourself just to make sure that he heard you properly, which carries a good amount of irony given his exceptionally superhuman hearing. He just wants to make sure he heard you properly— telling him you’re pregnant on Mother’s Day? He can’t think of anything more perfect than that, so it’d be a shame if he just imagined you saying it— he’s dreamed of being a father for so long now that if you were to hit him with a “gotcha” now, he might faint from disappointment.
Realistically, he should’ve put two and two together three weeks ago, but leave it to your husband to miss something glaringly obvious without your explicit guidance or direction. It’s almost funny to think that, despite his keen sense of smell, taste, and hearing, his overprotective nature, and his well-developed common sense, it’s so easy for him to miss the elephant in the room and get distracted by something incredibly unrelated to whatever he’s supposed to be looking out for.
He should have known from the second he found himself growing more and more overprotective of you without any visible or tangible piece of evidence as to why— you weren’t sick, you weren’t injured, and you weren’t otherwise vulnerable… or so he thought. It wasn’t obvious to him at the time, but now that you’ve confirmed it for him… it makes perfect sense. His nose already knew you were pregnant then— he picked up in the slightest change in your hormone levels without even realizing it, and now that he knows you’re pregnant?
He won’t leave your side for a single moment these next nine months.
Apparently, his vow to stay by your side 24/7 started the very moment you first broke the news to him— with your husband pressed so close up against you, you wouldn’t be surprised if you two just simply combined. Gorou’s hips slap against your ass so roughly and so quickly the sound of skin making contact with skin bounces off the walls and fills your ears, almost threatening to drown out your husband’s elated rambling.
Almost, but not quite. Nothing will get him to stop talking once he’s already started running his mouth.
“I just— I’ve just wanted this for so long,” he pants, looping his hands around your thighs to press them against the front your belly. “It’s just instinct, I guess? I just— Archons— there’s no better way to spend my life than with a sweet wife and a big, big family of our cute little pups.” He’ll be sure to keep you pregnant now that the precedent has already been established— Gorou knows he’ll miss taking you doggy style when your belly gets too big to safely attempt such a position, but he’s sure he can figure out a nice, comfortable compromise.
“I’ll get lots of time off from work! It’ll be easy. I’ll spend every day taking good, good care of you and our family because that’s— that’s what good husbands do, right? I’ll get Thoma to teach me tons of nutritious meals for you because I only know how to prepare quick rations for troops,” Gorou notes with a sheepish chuckle before he hunches over your back and whimpers brokenly. Will you still be able to take his knot while you’re pregnant, or will it be too much for you? He can’t push you too far now that you’re the most delicate you’ve ever been, heavy with the promise of a big family, right?
“I love you so much,” he gasps, nails digging into your belly softly as he loses control of himself. “And I’ll be the best father possible!”
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freyito · 5 months
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ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴅᴏ
so sorry for the little mini hiatus! im finally allllll moved in and i think all i really needed was like. a clean space. refreshed my mind a bit, lol. can't promise i'll have a steady schedule cause im still working on my inbox, just dont wanna get anything done (after this) til i've finished my new masterlists... anyways! ideas been in my head forever, need to get it off my chest NOW
cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread
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⎯ Liu Kang
Liu Kang will come up with poetry ON THE SPOT. It's crazy scary how quick he is with it. He chooses something about you and just runs with it. How your eyes are just the most enticing color in the sunlight, just how beautiful you are in kombat...
⎯ Bi-Han
Bi-Han will place little notes around the house or on things he knows you use often. He'll place one on the cover of the book your currently reading, or even within the pages. Little love notes, mainly motivating you, praising you... but he'll write a simple 'I love you', too.
⎯ Kuai Liang
Specifically whenever it's colder, Kuai willpull you in for a hug, and make his body temperature increase. He'll do it under different circumstances sometimes, even to tease you. He likes to keep you close as his temperature steadily rises. Perfect for cold nights.
⎯ Johnny Cage
Footsies. Anytime you two are sitting across from each other, either at the dinner table, or at some fancy restaurant, Johnny's always tapping at your shins, your knee, anything. Brings you closer, in a way.
⎯ Kenshi Takahashi
Kenshi has a habit of placing his hand on your head, whenever he feels like it. He'll play with your hair, or scratch at your scalp. He likes the texture, but he also just enjoys messing with you a little bit.
⎯ Kung Lao
Tickling you. Always and forever. Kung Lao will take the most inopportune moments to taze your sides, find those soft bits of flesh that make you giggle in just the right way.
⎯ Raiden
Raiden will do the little heart thing with his hands (or fingers) from across the room when he can't be with you. Eventually, he'll even try to do it with his lightning. It's an uncontrollable variable, and it takes him so LONG to get ahold of it. But, when he finally gets it, he's all giddy.
⎯ Zeffeero
As much as Rain groans and complains that his magic shouldn't be used for mundane things or fun, sometimes he'll form water into little hearts or stars. All for you. But he'll do it away from you, and kind of side-eye you, to make sure your watching.
⎯ Tomas Vrbada
Smoke has a tendency to sway whenever you two hug. Specifically when it's a longer hug. He just finds the motion comforting! He'll hum a little as he does this, too. That hum starts small, but then it catches on, he'll hum the same tune to you before you fall asleep.
⎯ Baraka
Point. Why? Baraka doesn't know. But he kinda likes your reaction. You two have a little game where he'll point, and you'll pop up and look around, do the whole "who, me?" thing. It's like a displacement behavior for him. Secretly, he kind of just wants to place his whole hand on your face like a basketball. He won't. Too risky.
⎯ Geras
Since Geras is still kind of unfamiliar with mortal love, he'll bring you little vials of sand. Kind of like bottles of shelves you'd find in a souvenir shop? He also most definitely asks Liu Kang for help throughout your relationship. So, normally, you get sent little (they're not little actually, they're like 5-page essays) love letters via Liu Kang.
⎯ Syzoth
Syzoth will flick his tongue over your cheek unintentionally. He swears! He's not doing it on purpose! You'll be lying down, or just close in general, and boom! There's the tongue!
⎯ Havik
Havik does that thing where he'll pull you in with one arm around your shoulder and one on the side of your head, and shake you gently. He'll make a little "rah" sound, it's a whole thing. Sometimes he's just over-whelmed with the urge to do that.
⎯ Shao Kahn
Sometimes, whenever Shao passes by you, he'll take you by your hand, and spin you. He'll chuckle and go back to what he was doing. But sometimes, it turns into full blown dancing.
⎯ Shang Tsung
Shang loves passing winks to you. He'll do it when he's too busy, he doesn't even use it to imply something. He'll do that super corny thing where he over-exaggerates his face and winks at you a LOT.
⎯ Reiko
Whether Reiko's just sparring, or in a genuine match, he'll always dedicate it to you. Even if you're not there. He'll whisper something for you under his breath, then beat the shit out of his opponent. He also loves bragging about his achievements to you. Only you. A soldier MUST have some humility.
⎯ Takeda Takahashi
Takeda loves saying your name in a real stupid sing-song voice. Dragging it out, horribly, in such a cheesy manor. He'll bring his voice up all high pitch and even bring his hands up to his face.
⎯ Erron Black
As much as Erron tries to be smooth with it, he kinda fails at hiding the fact that he's doing this for you. He exaggerates his accent, he'll quote all sorts of westerns, and just play reaaaaal hard into the Cowboy part for you.
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