#this is awful it’s so awful I hate everything and everyone that made sure this virus was here to stay

[toji-girl]

What if reader was around 8 or 9 months pregnant and it’s in the middle of the summer. It’s really hot in the house so reader decides to lay on the cold wooden kitchen floor. That’s when Toji walks in asking what in the world she’s doing.

Hope you’re doing alright! Also remember to eat and drink water!!

as someone who was seven months pregnant when it was over 100 degrees in the summer, I so understand how it is ksdjnbjkrt I'm doing well thank you and I hope you're doing well too and stay hydrated <3

tags: pregnant! fem reader + no really other tags needed

Hot and sticky was the best way to describe how you felt when you reached the eight-month mark of your pregnancy in the middle of summer when the heat was too unbearable for you and clothes.

When you did happen to wear anything all it did was stick to the sweat that clung to your body making you even more irritated if that was possible. Popsicles and ice cubes helped a lot thankfully.

You already dreaded summer most of the time and now you hated it, every second of the day you wanted to submerge yourself in an ice bath but Toji, your sweet husband who felt awful for you helped a lot.

He'd bring clothes soaked with cold water to lay over your forehead and neck while making sure all the fans are pointed toward you, it's gotten to the point where you don't even go upstairs anymore.

The bedroom was stagnant with heat and it made it hard to breathe which in turn made you grumpier because the mattress was soft and bouncy and you couldn't even lay on it with the landlord not wanting to fix the heat you wanted to tear his head off.

It was midnight when a hot flash made you shudder as you waddled your way into the kitchen naked and bare to lay on the floor which somehow you were able too but quickly you realized there was no getting up without your husband so you enjoyed the cool breeze.

That was the only room that had cool tile floor and it felt amazing against your flushed skin, so did the water you dripped down your body to cool down even a bit. "We're very—"

Toji and Shiu's voices scared you when they both stepped into the dim kitchen causing everyone to let out some sort of panicked noise. "Darlin'? What are you doin'?" Your husband asked very surprised to see you naked on the kitchen floor and a little bit wet.

"I was hot—I didn't know you and Shiu had a meeting or whatever, I'm hot and cranky." You whined not caring that your husband's best friend saw you naked, that was the least of your worries when it was this hot.

Shiu stepped outside as Toji helped you up off the floor wiping the sweat away. "Good thing I ain't got to pick you up, you'd slide from my hands, my little slip and slide." He teased giving your ass a squeeze.

You rolled your eyes and settled on the couch while Toji got everything you wanted and needed with a kiss on the forehead.

[carmenized-onions]

Zero Pulse. | Oven Hotfix

logline; It's Friday.

[!!!] series history, this is the tenth; You're gonna need to check to make sure you're caught up babe because there's a LOT of context behind this one.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. Wish you could sort by emotions, on playlists, but this is really a very good playlist i think.

portion; 12.5k Jesus Christ, new record.

possible allergies; Incredibly excessive hateful self-image, very frivolous way of talking about mental illness/death/Mikey, I'd say just like ? stress? BLOOD ALSO !! minor cut dw

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (gets she/her'd into oblivion this round, mb)

said it before i'll say it again, this is the new best and longest chapter i've written-- of all time now. and im being so fr if i don't get actually like harassed in my inbox with the amount of people chattering about this i will WALK INTO THE PIER BITCH

It’s Friday morning, and today is the first day in possibly years that Carmen has actually snoozed his alarm. Opting to sleep in for an extra hour, despite how uncomfortable his whole body is where it lays. He’s trying to avoid waking up today— Because he knows, he can tell: Today is just not going to be his day, today. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, today— Not even—

He fell asleep on his couch, last night. His TV is still on and when he turns it off, it sizzles from being on the stupid Cooking Channel for so long. He’s covered in crumbs, hands coated in chip dust— Chin and neck sticky with spilled Diet Coke. Just don’t wake up and you won’t have to clean it. The day can’t get him, if it never starts.

But then his alarm rings again, for maybe the hundredth time, and there’s no real reason as to why this time is different from the other times, but he suddenly remembers why he fell asleep on his couch, last night. Why he had such a difficult time crawling just fifteen feet further when he got home last night. His face grows hot and red with shame and embarrassment, like a child.

A plate was sent back. A plate he made, was sent back.

Most would find it too dramatic, but he really did almost throw up. Syd gave him an antacid— From a pocket pack that you gave her. Did it help all that much? No. But at least he kept everything down. He just heaved a lot, in the walk-in. Probably good that he didn’t eat much of anything, yesterday.

He’d been thinking far too much. Spent way too long thinking about what to make for you, tonight— Which is fine, you’re inspiring— But he should’ve been keeping those thoughts to pen and paper. But he was making the stupid fucking roux for the stupid fucking order and his autopilot system got all mixed up and suddenly he was making a fantastic Montmorency, but an awful roux. Fucking brain dead, Berzatto. Talentless. Can you not handle this?

How is it possible, to fuck up that bad? You’re terrible at this. His instinct— Everyone’s instinct was to tell the patron to get off their fucking high horse. There’s always that one guest, that thinks they own the goddamn place. But then the dish came back to the kitchen, and everyone just stared. Silent. He was mortified. Is it too much for you? Practically unrecognizable, from what was ordered. It was entirely his fault. Dumb fuck. So fucking slow.

What happened to him? Seriously, what the fuck happened, to him? How could he possibly forget what’s important here? What’s at stake? He can’t look himself in the eyes when he brushes his teeth. Why are you so fucking slow? You are bullshit.

Regrettably, you happened to him; in a good and bad way.

He sighs, washing your conditioner out of his hair in the shower. Scrunching it, as you’d directed. He listens, he does. He takes direction well. Go faster, motherfucker. And he likes you, Carmen does. You are not tough. And he doesn’t fault you for being a good person, no, he faults himself.

He’s not meant to be a good person, he’s meant to be a good chef.

He’s not meant to be a good work partner, with Syd— That doesn’t get results. Everyone thinks they’re happier when he’s happier, sure, but they’re in the red. They’re not gonna be so fucking happy when their cheques start bouncing. It doesn’t matter how good a person he is— What matters is what he’s actually capable of providing— And it’s not amusement or enjoyment— It’s fucking talent. But he sought out your affections, your approval, in a key moment, in every moment— In place of who he should’ve— A Michelin Inspector.

He's let himself forget, what it meant, what it takes, to get a star.

And that made him fuck up a dish— A simple fucking dish. Again, not your fault, his. But God, he wants both. Carmen needs both. He can have both. You should be dead. He just needs to lock it in, keep it tight, push it down, comb it back, you should be dead—

He needs to spray his hair with rosemary, it’s looking thin. The basil on his balcony is coming in nicely, though.

It’s just hit four o’clock when you’re mostly finished getting ready— Well, you are ready, but, y’know, final checks and all that. You smooth out your palazzo pants. Gotta look presentable. Or at the very least, normal.

The Bear is high-class, you’re not going there as a repairman, tonight, for once. Plus, Richie wears suits twenty-four fucking seven now— So you need to dress accordingly, or he and every other guest there are going to look at you like you’re some broke freak. Which, like, not inaccurate, but still hurtful. You’ve broken out the good but not too good jewelry. Money talks, wealth whispers, or some shit. Black turtleneck, blue pants— To match the stupid fucking Executive Chef’s eyes, or whatever, shut up! The pants are not actually that bright, but you think they’d still pair well with Carmen. And even if they didn’t, they match The Bear’s aesthetic, and you like to remain on theme, even when there isn’t really at all a required theme.

Not like you’re going to be seeing much of Carmen tonight, anyway. As much as you’d like to see him, he didn’t send you his Connections, this morning, not even after you sent yours, and you’re taking that as a sign that today is probably rough. And not in the way that can be helped by talking to a person, either, in fact, probably the exact opposite.

You debate whether or not to wear Carmen’s jean jacket. This is a thin turtleneck, and it’d go really well with the whole outfit, and like, Sydney already caught on— It’s only a matter of time before the whole kitchen clocks it.

Yeah, fuck it, hard launch this situationship. You toss it over your shoulders. Okay, okay, one last last final fit check. Hm. Yeah, you’ve definitely gotta put the necklace away. You kiss the plastic pendant for good luck, before tucking it under your shirt. Not ready for that story, just yet. You will be, eventually. But you certainly don’t want Carmen to notice and ask about it. Soon, though. You will, soon.

You grab your purse, your keys, your finished art piece— Wrapped, neatly, in brown paper, with a little card taped to it. Okay, that’s everything. One last last last final review. Makeup? Great. Hair? Perfect. Outfit? Stunning— Fuck, what shoes are you going to wear? Fuck fuck fuck—

Alright, you know it’s not the shoes you’re worried about. Just get out the door, Chip. It’s gonna be fine, Chip. Dinner’s gonna be good, and normal, actually, because two people having their first real one-on-one conversation after their mutual best friend killed himself just under a year ago is historically always super calm and chill and normal, actually. That’s how that works. It’s not gonna be tense, at all.

This is immediately so tense. “Hey. Good to— Good to see you.”

You go in for the hug, so does Richie, only then do you both realize how full your hands are. And then it becomes a weird side hug from you combined with a full hug from him. It’s terrible, this is terrible, this is so tense. Maybe you can still run and have it not be weird, somehow.

“You— Too.” Richie clears his throat, “Cousin.”

It’s not like this is the first time you’ve seen each other since, no, you’ve seen each other thrice now, but it was different all those times. You were helping Carmen escape a freezer, or having an episode over a broken toilet, or delivering a baby— It wasn’t awkward all those times because it couldn’t be. You didn’t have time to be awkward, they were always emergencies.

“So uh, Fak’s gonna be our, our server?”

“Yessir.”

“He any good?”

“No-sir.”

But this meet up is intentional, booked. It’s got a point to it, and both of you know what it is. You’re just anxiously waiting for the other person to be brave enough to bring it up. Thankfully, neither of you have to, just yet, as Fak sidles up to the host stand.

He’s pushing so many buttons on the P.O.S. before even speaking to either of you that you’re starting to believe he doesn’t know what the fuck the buttons he’s pushing are doing. Based on the way Richie starts to lean over the stand to see what he’s doing, you’re pretty sure you’re right.

“I— I got it, man.” Fak puts a hand up, defensive. Richie backs up, then gestures for Fak to get the fuckin’ show on the road. He does.

“Table for, for uh, how many are you?”

“Oh wow.” It comes out of you instantly, in a true state of shock, at how bad this is already going. You cover your mouth, uh oh, inside thought became outside thought. “Sorry!”

Richie loses it, next to you. You slap his shoulder with your free arm, but you’re laughing too. “Don’t be mean!”

“You’re the one bein’ mean, Chip!”

“I didn’t— He’s trying.” You turn your head back to Fak. “I— Table for two, darling. M’sorry.”

Fak is quick to fold and forgive you, you’ve just called him darling— If a siren ever called to him, he would be dead. “Right, right this way— My name is Neil, I’ll be your server, tonight.”

You follow him to a table that lets you see pretty well into the kitchen. It’s a decent trade-off for not getting a cozy little booth. You look into the window, everyone’s far too focused to know you’re here, right now, but that’s okay— It’s not rushed right now, though, so that is a little… weird.

Richie pulls out your chair, fake Italian chivalry, and what not. When you’re half way through sitting down, a few things are realized instantly, and all three of you speak simultaneously.

“Oh, I should drop this off in the back, first.” Your art piece, you mean.

“Is that Carmy’s?” Your jacket, Fak means.

“You’re fucking Carmen?” What the fuck else could Richie possibly mean.

“I—” You pause, pointing to Fak, first. “Yes, it is.” Then pivot to Richie, “No, I’m not. It’s more like a reservation—”

“Don’t talk about your sex life like it’s a restaurant.” He waves his hand in the air, immediately regretting asking. Listen, it was just the first metaphor on the brain.

“You fuckin’ asked! And we haven’t done shit yet— Not even a fuckin’ date, a’right? Technically not even dating.” It takes maybe, two seconds, in the presence of Richie, for you to go full Chicago accent. It’s unhinged. You have to stand up. “I’m gonna drop this off, in the back.” You lift up the wrapped piece. “I’ll be back, don’t be weird.”

As you walk off, you do your best to pretend you don’t hear Fak mumbling, “Bet it’s one of those sex paintings.”

But it’s very hard to do so when Richie all but booms out a resounding and genuinely baffled, “...What?”

As much as you’d like to continue to hear that insane conversation, you swing through the door, and it’s thankfully a pretty soundproof divider, considering all the yelling you know happens in here.

“Chefs, table twenty-four, two people.” “Yes, Chef.”

Or… Maybe… It’s instead, weirdly subdued? In a tense way, not a calm way. Like when a knife falls off a table, and you’re not sure if it’s going to stab you in the foot and there’s no time to pull back.

“Twenty-one, four people.” “Yes, Chef.”

That kind of quiet. The calm before the storm, maybe. The fall before the blood, you think may be more accurate. God, Syd looks exhausted and it’s only half past four. The rush hasn’t even started yet. Why are they pushing so hard, right now?

Carmen’s on expo. Which, based on the night terrors he told you about, seems like a recipe for fucking disaster. Again, he’s not yelling. His voice is monotone, it sounds dead, frankly, and you’re wondering if you would prefer him screaming, actually.

There’s a mantra, amongst first responders, that it’s better to hear screaming than silence, because then you know they have a pulse, they’re drawing breath, they’re able to feel. You can’t honestly tell, with Carmen.

Syd hands off a plate to expo, to Carmen. He calmly, quickly— And like, really quickly, barely more than a two second glance is given, to the dish, before he says, “Refire, Chef.”

Oh, Jesus Christ. Not your business, not your restaurant, don’t overstep. But God, it hurts to watch the order hit Syd in the face, like a splash of cold water. She repeats, in disbelief. “Refire?” The dish looks fine to her— And it sure as fuck looks fine to you.

“Yes, Chef.”

“Why, exactly? Chef?”

Carmen does not look up from his system, he does not watch what is practically heartbreak, mortification, tempered anger, play out on Syd’s face. “Not perfect. Fire twenty, twenty-five— Two waiting on twenty, Chefs.”

“Heard!”

“Not perfect?”

He looks up, finally, at her. You can only see the back of his head, so you can’t tell the look. “Sauce is broken.” It’s definitely not. Well, at least to your untrained eye, it’s not. “We don’t serve what’s not perfect. Do we, Chef?” He slides the plate aside, deading it.

“Do you want your star, or not?” You don’t think he means to be antagonistic, or at least hope he doesn’t, but it really comes off that way. He rubs his chest, but his tone lack empathy.

Syd closes her eyes, taking a breath. She has so many words, for this man, but she holds her tongue. She does not rub her chest in return, she just restarts the dish. “Yes, Chef.”

“Thank you, Chef.”

There’s a lull in orders, for the moment, so you very gently place your hand on Carmen’s back, to make him aware of your presence. As gentle as you try to be, he still flinches. Anyone over his shoulder would make him flinch right now, but it’s you. “Oh—!”

Now, do you let out a small yelp, inadvertently, when he turns to look at you, and you see him as he is right now? Yeah, yeah you do.

“—Good to— Did you just scream, at the sight of me?”

Syd puts a hand over her mouth, heavy exhale of laughter still escaping through her nose. Schadenfreude.

Your mouth hangs open, for a second, squinting, goddammit, inside thought got outside, “…No?”

“What— What, I look bad?” He’s immediately looking over himself, trying to find the culprit. And though the emotion he’s feeling right now is insecurity, you feel relief that at the very least, the glow of anything is shining through him, right now.

Doesn’t make you a fan of the slicked-back hair look, though. That’s what made you yell— Like when a dog or a baby doesn’t recognize their parent. Like when Mikey shaved for the first time after you met him, and you considered him completely unrecognizable. You practically ignored him until some stubble came in. What did he expect?

You also just don’t like it. Clean-Shaved Mikey nor Hair-Gel Carmen. The pomade is overpowering your shampoo, and now he doesn’t smell like you. Doesn’t smell like him. His curls are all gone— Man, his pattern was just starting to revive, too. He looks just too clean, too cookie-cutter, too… Someone else. He just doesn’t look like— “No, Bear, you look good— I just— You look— Don’t look like the Carmy I’m used to, is all.”

Who are you to tell him what he looks like? You don’t know why, but the energy today is just making you feel like… You’re intruding, you’re stepping in on a space that has nothing to do with you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth, right?

He nods, compartmentalizing, only acknowledging that you’ve said he looks good. “You look nice.”

“I clean up.” You shrug, it gets a nearly imperceptible smile out of him. Hm. Where’d your Carmen go? He’s really making you work for it, tonight. You gesture to your painting, holding it by your knees. “Not here to disrupt, M’just gonna put this in your office, for later.”

“Painting?”

“Incredible guess.” Again, that smile and that exhale of laughter, thin. “Yes, it’s the piece— Wait ‘til close, to open it, please.”

He nods, when you start to walk off, he grabs your arm. “Ah, uh—” He lets go. “Can I, uh— I planned— I planned an off-menu main, for you, is that, that okay—”

“It would always be okay, yeah.” You nod, reassuring. It would be more than okay, if Carmen decided and designed every meal you ever had for the rest of your life, you think. “Trust you— With, with my taste buds.”

You’re not sure if it’s the right move, but you awkwardly step forward and kiss Carmen’s temple anyways— In his hairline. He seems to care a lot about appearances, right now, so you don’t want to get lip gloss on his forehead. Despite your quickness, there is still a very childish ‘ooooh’ reverberating throughout the kitchen. But he’s ignoring it, so you ignore it too. Carmen, more than anything, would like to reciprocate, but he’s running a kitchen, and he cannot let himself nor the crew get distracted. He nods, smile small, and turns back to his station.

“Waiting on twenty, Chefs.”

You don’t take it personally; the guy is busy, what can you do? You drop the painting off in his office, leaning it against the table for Carmen’s perusal after close— It’s not the kind of piece he should look at during his break— Who are you kidding, you saw him, he’s not taking a break tonight. God, he might hate this piece. What if he hates this piece? It’s a risk you have to take, it’s art. Hopefully the card will help smooth any questions over. You’re clearer over text, you think.

On your way out of the kitchen, you nod to Marcus and Tina. A sign of ‘Hey, I’m here, I know we can’t talk, but I’m here.’ They nod back. When you pass Sydney, you take a moment to squeeze her shoulder. That star thing was rough, but you don’t know enough about cooking to intervene— It’s not your place. Still feel for your girl, though. Awe, you’ve only just noticed, she’s wearing your collar pins. She puts her free hand over yours, squeezing it in return, just for a second. She doesn’t turn to face you, but the silent encouragement and sympathy is exchanged. She gets back to work, and you get back out to the front.

If there was time for it, you’d be her designated coach and cheerleader, find a motivational bookshelf to carry somewhere again and give a speech, but there’s not. So, this will have to do, for now.

Fak is absolutely bombing every step of this introduction, when you sit back down. The second-hand embarrassment is truly eating you alive, as he stumbles through today’s specials, which, you’re pretty sure is not the order these things happen in—

“Hey, uh, Neil, wasssit?” Richie scratches his nose, attempting to play the part of blind customer. “How ‘bout drinks first, bud?” He’s trying to keep a sympathetic attitude, which is making all of his pointers come off as extremely passive aggressive.

“Yeah, for sure, right, yeah— What’uh— What can— Drinks? Hey, hey you want? Drink?”

You cup a hand over your mouth, to block your mortified expression. “Yeah, yeah, Neil, I’ll just have a water.”

“Water!” Fak yells back, way too fucking emphatically, “I— I love water, that’s so crazy.”

“Jesus Christ.” Richie holds his face in his hands, elbows on the table. “I’ll get a fuckin’…” He lifts a hand to wave in the air, willy-nilly, still not looking up. “Chippy, name a wine.”

“Red?” Richie usually doesn’t have wine. It’s the rich man’s beer. But when he does, it’s red.

“Mhm.”

He’s probably gonna get steak, just go with a safe bet, “Cab Sav, for the gentleman, please.”

Fak writes it down, but seems bewildered and confused, staring at it. “You want a taxi?”

“Oh my god.” You and Richie are in unison. Two very different tones, though. You sound baffled, he sounds like he’s two seconds from lunging.

Which, isn’t an entirely unfair reaction, Fak has been training for this moment for a month. Rich thought he’d at least be ready to start with you. You’re the least intimidating person he knows, you wouldn’t hurt a fly. Maybe that’s what makes it so difficult? That you’re too nice? Even still, Fak should at least know this, not choke as hard as he is, right now. It’s embarrassing for Richie, when his staff are flailing this bad, especially in front of the people he loves and admires.

Rich wrings his hands together, looking back up to you. “I fucking taught him this, just so y’know.”

You nod, looking to Fak. You’ve just gotta get him out of here, honestly. “Cabernet Sauvignon, baby— Just a glass, not a bottle. We’ll look over our menus, in the meantime, maybe?”

The sleeper agent line has been spoken, and the server autopilot in Fak’s brain finally turns on. “Right. I’ll just give you lovely two a second to look over your menus, alright, haha, be safe— Be back with your drinks, folks.”

The delivery may need a little work. Though you think his edits should probably start with the way he walks backwards, eye-contact unyielding, and almost trips as he pushes backwards into the kitchen door. That might be considered bad, to some.

“Trainwreck.” Richie presses his palms into his eyes. “M’fuckin’ sorry, Chippy, Jesus Christ.”

You shrug, leaning back in your seat. “I don’t see a problem, it’s dinner and a show, baby.”

Richie laughs, at that, after a few seconds of silence, he adds. “He’s not gonna fuckin’ last.”

“Probably not.” You shrug. “But it was worth a shot. N’ he’ll do in a pinch, if you’re ever short-staffed.”

“We are always short-staffed.” Richie grumbles. “Do fuckin’ servers ever actually stage? Need the free labour.”

“What the fuck is stage?”

“I honestly still don’t know.” You both laugh. “I fuckin’ did it and I still don’t know.”

“What have you been up to, besides uh, staging?” You finally open Pandora’s box.

Well, it’ll stay small talk for a little bit, to be fair, gotta warm up to the real stuff—

“Tif’s getting remarried.”

“—Oh, holy shit.”

He nods, looking aimlessly nowhere, certainly not your eyes. “Engaged, at least— Haven’t gotten a fuckin’ invite, or anythin’.”

“You think she’ll invite you?”

“She asked.” He closes his eyes, for a second. This has been hanging over his head, all day. “Called, this uh, this morning, cause of Cousin Vinnie n’ Mira—”

“She comin’ to that?” You’ve never actually met Tif. They were on the rocks when you’d come to The Beef, so it was mostly just waves through car windows, if anything. It might be better if it stays that way, you think.

He shakes his head, “Someone’s gotta take care of Eva, n’ she’s got work. But the invite made her think of my invite, and uh, if I’d want one, come when it may.”

These are the moments you wish you had a glass of water, so you could sip and do something with your mouth and hands, as you think of what to say. He continues, because he knows you’re going to ask, “Said I’d think about it.”

“I think it’s okay, if you don’t want to.” You lean forward, as a show of sympathy. “That’d be a fuckin’ lot, for anyone.”

“Yeah. Yeah, but it’s uh, it’s— I’m good, Chip.” Richie leans back in his seat, swiping at his nose. He’ll talk about it when he’s ready, and you know that. He makes eye-contact, again, finally. “How’ve you been holdin’ up?”

You bite at your lip, alright, its fucking game time, this is what you’ve been prepping for, time to tell him everything you’ve been thinking about, for the past year, time to tell someone other than your former therapist what the fuck is in your head. “I—”

“Drinks! Hyah!” Fak busts through the door, far too boisterous. It scares a few patrons, and honestly you, a little bit. He returns to your table, pitcher and bottle of wine on a tray— Hey, it actually is a Cab Sav, he did it! Gotta celebrate the victories, here.

You can’t help but notice, as Fak pours your glass of water and attempts small talk, that he seems a bit more distressed than he did before he went in the kitchen. You crane your neck to peek through the window. Hm. Syd and Carmy are not where they were before. They’re talking. It doesn’t look like a fight, though. Let it lie. You’ve really got to let it lie, because Fak is in front of you, staring straight forward like he’s in a catatonic liminal state, not acknowledging either you or Richie with his gaze. A touch disconcerting, possibly.

“So, hey, you guys, you guys like food?”

Your lips form a line. “Fak, are you okay?”

“I’m great—” His voice cracks, oh dear. “Am I doing great?”

“You’re certainly trying—” “You’re fucking this up tremendously.” At least Richie is honest, and usually you are too, but, when it comes to a trainwreck, you’ve gotta tell the train they’re doing a great job. You just can’t bear to let it know it’s on fire.

When your glass of water starts to overflow, you take the pitcher from Fak’s hand so he can’t keep overpouring it in his fugue state. Jesus Christ, what happened in the kitchen? Who died? Actually, probably don’t joke about that.

It’s in within this moment that you learn a lot of things very quickly. First thing you learn, Sweeps is a server now, you guess. He’s in the suit, coming out of the kitchen, terrified, serving tray in hand, two champagne flutes wobble upon it. Second thing you learn, Sweeps is not a good server, or at the very least, isn’t right now, he’s too shell-shocked to keep any level of awareness of where he’s going. He bumps into Fak’s back. Third thing you learn, Richie has great reflexes, he catches the wine bottle from Fak’s tray. You have decent reflexes, managing to reach an arm out in time to keep Sweeps from entirely falling over and eating shit.  

You were however, not able to keep the champagne flutes from elegantly flying off of Sweep’s tray, and falling to the ground, shattering. Sonofabitch.

There’s a silence, then an overlapping chorus from the two distressed servers, “I’ve got it, I’ve got it, I’ve got it—” That’s the fourth and last thing you’re able to clock immediately. These two know serving is not for them. They do best sweeping or fixing, not fucking talking to people. Breaking something and needing to clean it up is like a gift from God, to them, they’re genuinely fighting to be the one to clean it up. They end up tag-teaming it, as they feel Richie’s quiet glare burn into them. He’s gotten very good at silently laying down the law. They apologize, scramble to clean, hastily apologize, and rush back into the kitchen as soon as possible.

Fuck. It’s like Richie texted, Fak has shit the bed, and that almost certainly means your dinner is gonna get cut short. You’re not going to get the chance to tell him everything— Let alone anything you wanted to get out. You won’t get to apologize properly, and then he’ll head right back on his shift, and you’ll just be the kitchen’s friend that’s taking up a table. Fuck, you’ve got to try to stumble something of note out.

“I missed you, Rich.”

The man in question turns his head from looking through the kitchen window, back to you, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I was here.” Could’ve visited.

“I know.” No, I couldn’t.

He nods. The unexchanged words are still understood between the both of you, somehow. You fiddle with your fingers, gearing up to just say your big speech, you practiced it in the car ride here, if you just cut it down to the key bullet points, you can probably get it all out.

“Richie, I’m sor—”

Once again, Fak interrupts, door swinging open, he looks extremely panicked this time, tripping over nothing, sweating like it’s a million degrees, looking to both of you, alright the kitchen situation seems to have escalated. It seems like he’s about to scream to you— But then remembers that there are guests other than you and Richie, in the front of house, and so he speed walks to your table.

Richie is the one to ask this time, “Are you fuckin’ good—?”

“Uh-uh.” Fak shakes his head, in repetitive, tight small swivels. His posture militantly straight, taught, eyes darting everywhere, like there’s spies lurking in the booths, watching him. He speaks through tight teeth, to hide his words from onlookers. “Bad. Bad bad.”

“Bad bad?” You repeat after him, waiting for him to lend any explanation to the subject, he doesn’t really.

“Need you.” He nods to Richie. Then nods to you. He looks… Disdainful? Remorseful, maybe. To be doing so. “You too. Bad.”

Richie looks to you, letting you make the call, here. You look at him and sigh, your plan has been utterly ruined, your speech— Dashed. He adds. “Intermission?”

There’s no way this is just going to be an intermission. “Intermission.”

You both stand, he takes his wine glass, then takes the bottle, a bit more realistic. You take your water. Cheers, and into the cesspool you go, abandoning your table, for what Richie hopes is for an interim, for what you both know is for the night.

The first thing you notice, Carmen’s not at expo. No one’s on expo, actually. Which feels like a problem. The second thing you notice is where Carmen actually is— In the walk-in— Not locked in, no, not this time. No, you notice he’s there because he’s yelling, better than zero pulse, but you still wince. All yelling makes you wince.

“Who was on veggie prep today?! What is this dice, Chefs!?” He storms out, large deli container of onions in his hand— He’s bringing it to his station— Which was Syd’s station, but he’s now co-opted it, seemingly, as she’s not there. However, in her stead, are five more containers of pre-diced veggies— You imagine Carmen brought those out, too. “We are not serving fucking sandwiches, anymore, Chefs—”

Carmen stops short of his aggression, when he sees you. You can’t tell if you like that. You’re pretty sure you don’t. What’s that stupid idiom? Mean to the world, good to your girl? Don’t like that. Don’t like two faces. Don’t like the shade on the old sandwiches— Mikey’s sandwiches, either.

Carmen doesn’t move to you, or anything like that though, no, he’s busy— With what exactly, you’re not sure. No fucking way he’s redoing all the prep right now, right? That would be insane. The dices are fine, and they can’t just waste food right now with their budget nor their time— Fucking Christ, he is actually redoing the prep and making Tina use the old for broth— Oh dear God.

The third thing you notice is where Syd really is, in lieu of her station. She’s having what looks like a panic attack with Sweeps by the ovens. Your legs move to her before your brain really registers anything else, and you can hear behind you that Richie has gone to Carmen and is handling expo. Fak did not need to tell either of you what your jobs needed to be back here, you just know.

“This is, this is just fucking great—” Syd heaves, holding onto the handle of the oven. Next to her, Sweeps is still in his hosting attire, but he’s mopping up water by Syd’s feet. There’s a tipped over mop bucket on the ground. He looks significantly more comfortable now, but still equally as distressed as the rest of the kitchen seems to be.

You put a hand on Syd’s shoulder, leaning down to her level. “Bubs, what’s going on? M’here.”

“Fucking everything is going on.” She starts to catch her breath; she brushes your hand away. You know it’s because she has sensory overload, it still kind of hurts, though. “Carmen’s fucking freaking…”

“No shit.” You step aside and lift your left foot, when Sweeps needs to mop by your feet. “Why, though?”

“On our opening night, he had a fuckin’— Episode, I dunno.” She’s still keeled over, hands on her knees, but she’s breathing. “N’ he had this like— Like saw this guy, who wasn’t actually there. Out—” She nods her head to the window to the front of house. She stands up, again. “Out there.”

“His, his old Executive— Chef.”

“Oh.”

The night terrors. The oven. The fire. The wanting it to happen, even just a little bit. The man who’s in his head, talking to Carmen, every night. The man he saw on his opening night, apparently. Your poor Carmen.

“Yeah, yeah he was like— Apparently kind of a dick—” Understatement of the century. “But like, so is he.” Syd nods to Carmen. You can’t completely deny that. You wish you could. “Anyways, he called.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I fucking know.” She nods, emphatic. She then realizes that this story is going to take a second, and gestures to the oven behind her. “This won’t turn on, spilt water on it.”

“Oh.” You take a beat, then remember this is what your job is, “Oh!” You feel around the pockets of your pants. Should’ve expected to bring a screwdriver, at the very least, it’s The Bear. Get with the program. The tools are in your car, to be fair, but for a quick simple check-up—

You call out, “Yo, Fak—” “Yes?”

You jump, he’s standing a mere inch behind and adjacent from you. You hold your heart, stepping back from him, just a touch. “…Do you… Have a screwdriver?”

Neil leans back, like he’s tough, like he’s sizing you up. “Something broken?”

“Tryin’ to figure that out.”

“Cause you’re a repairman.”

“Cause I’m a repairman, yeah.”

“You got a degree?”

“Just give her the fucking screwdriver!” Syd yells before you can answer. Fak begrudgingly and with a lethargic show, hands you the screwdriver from his chest pocket.

Jealous, is he? Oh, that’s cute. That’s very cute. He’s the one that said he wanted to host— Whatever, no time to tease or bicker, you’re pulling the oven out, trying to lift as much as possible with Syd’s help, to keep from scrapping tile, but it’s inevitable.

You kneel down, taking the screws out the back, “So Exec dude, he called?”

“Uh-huh.” Syd focuses on her pan on the oven next to you— Thankfully that one did not get fucked in the crossfire— so they’re short but not fucked, just yet, at least. “Called Carmen, said he’d heard about the opening— That he wants to come try the place.”

“Right, but he’s from New York, isn’t he, you’ve got time—”

“He already took a flight here; he’ll be here in thirty.”

“Oh, my fucking God.”

“I fucking know.” Everything is going on. It’s all starting to make a lot more sense now. The kitchen’s general distress, Fak and Sweeps dropping shit from anxiety but also an inadvertent way to guarantee Richie does not table them with the fucking guy, Carmen’s sudden paranoia over someone noticing a decimal less than perfect dice— Because he would, he will.

The man in Carmen’s head that’s been torturing him has at the very least been confined to his head. And now he will be materializing, before his family, to dress him down at any opportunity, in thirty fucking minutes. Oh, your poor Carmen…

“And this guy—He’s like, like fucking big, if he likes the food— Likes The Bear— We might end up getting an inspector, in here.”

You lean out from the back of the oven, practically being swallowed by it. Confused. “Getting an inspector is a good thing?” To your knowledge, inspectors are what shuts down restaurants.

“A Michelin Guide Inspector.” Oh, fuck.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, I fucking know!” Syd replies, emphatic, Richie calls out an order to her, from expo. She clears her throat. “Heard, Chef.”

A Michelin Guide Inspector. What’s that mean? Well, if you’re thinking correctly, it means a star. It means accolades. It means recognition. It means money. It means 800k. It means not going under. It means clawing their way back out of the woods. It means everything. Oh, fuck.

“So, anyways—” Syd sautés, violently. “Carmen fuckin’ finishes that call, storms out the office, and like demands shit to be perfect— Which like— Like it should be, I know, but like— Tellin’ me to fuckin’ mop already perfectly clean floors, is like, like fucking stupid— Especially when I’m fucking cooking here, like what?”

It’s amid this retelling, as you stand, that you notice Syd’s hand— The left one, the one on the pan’s handle, is bleeding, two of her fingers, cut. “And I— I fucked up, like, like I know I did. I dropped the mop bucket, n’— n’ now my fucking oven won’t turn on.”

You take her hand, she tries to rip it away, you don’t let her. “I cut it on the edge of the bucket, stupid sharp plastic, I’m good—”

“Lemme just bandage it.” You’re already fishing through your pocket, with your free hand.

She’s quick to shake her head. “You need to figure out how I fucked up the oven.”

“I already know what’s wrong with the oven.” You pull out your wallet, flitting through the bill fold with your fingers— You keep band-aids there, in case of emergency, because of course you do. Syd tries to tug her hand away, again. Her blood is rubbing onto your fingers. It’s not a big cut, but it’s enough. You can’t help remember the ye old days of you as teens, hearing about the concept of blood brothers for the first time, and genuinely considering going through with it. Funny what time does. Funny who it brings back.

“Then fix the oven.”

You mumble, tearing the paper open with your teeth. “This first.”

“I’m fucking good, Tony.”

“Don’t bark at me.”

She grimaces when she notices they’re children’s band-aids, with goofy little cartoon heroes on them. “I don’t fucking need—”

“Sydney, I love you.” There is no subtext, behind it. You look her in the eyes, stern. Tone inarguable. It catches the words in her throat, and keeps them there.

“Will you let me?”

She shuts her eyes, tight, for a second, and just looks away, hand going limp in your grip. Which means okay, I love you, too. She does not need to say it. You wrap two band-aids, one around each finger that got cut, and let her go.

Syd takes a second, to look at it. She looks at you.

“The Miles Morales feels racially targeted.”

“I fuckin’ hate you.” You point at her, you both break into laughter. Richie barks out another slew of numbers and orders, and it’s like getting caught talking in class. She goes back to her cast-iron, you start walking off to Rich. From behind you she mumbles.

“Love you, Inky.” Oh my God. Chippy’s a flashback, Inky is like a history textbook.

“Love ya, Squid.”

At expo, Richie’s sweating, he turns to you, and you speak at once.

“Carmy give you the run down?” — “Syd tell you the bullshit?”

You both nod. You’re first to ask, “Fuck dinner?”

“Raincheck. Let’s say.” He shrugs. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t need to be.” You nod to the oven. “Thermocouple in your oven’s broke. I have backups in my car.”

“You have backups in your fucking car?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Of the one hyper-specific part we need?”

“Yeah, the timing is crazy—” “Ey, when’d you get a fucking car, Cousin?” Richie realizes a discrepancy he simply always forgot to ask about for the past few weeks.

“Early this year. It’s a piece of shit. It works.”

He nods. “Hands!” Fak, swings by you, grabbing the plate from Richie, “Got this!”

Richie nods, smiling, very clearly fake, turning his head to watch Fak walk all the way out and have the door swing shut behind him. When he’s sure Fak can’t hear him, his head snaps right back to you. “We cannot let any of my fuckin’ staff near the fuckin’ big shot.”

It’s honestly nice that dinner is over, despite how bad you wanted to talk because now it’s this. Now it’s nostalgic. Now it’s comfortable— Distressing— But it’s you two, again. You nod. “So you’re gonna run expo and serve him at the same time?”

“What, you think I can’t?”

No, you don’t. “Of course you can, you’re Richie Jero—Uh, whatever the fuck.” You’re already walking to the back door to grab your tools.

“Jerimovich, Chippy! Not that fuckin’ hard!”

You should put oven expert on your business cards, when you eventually get to making new business cards. This is like, the third oven fix you’ve done in two weeks? And you just changed a thermocouple a few days ago! It takes you maybe five minutes tops, to switch the old wire for the good one.

When you push the stove back against the wall and test the burners— It works, thank God. You might’ve hyped yourself up a little too much before even checking that. Once you do, though, before even saying it’s fixed, Syd violently shakes your left shoulder, as a point of approval. Tina, on your right, slaps you on the back several times as her vow of praise, too. This is like riding a roller-coaster, and not in a good way.  

But it ends soon, as they’ve got to get right back to work, since Richie calls out—

“Guys fuckin’ here!” That’s like, ten minutes early, bullshit— “He brought a party of five—” Are you fucking kidding— “Booth Twelve— When I say booth twelve, don’t fuck up booth twelve, a’right, Chefs?”

“Heard!”

Where’s Carmen, right now? You look around— He’s at his station, on the final part of the line. He’s simultaneously making a dish completely on his own and doing the final touches on plates before they get sent out. Alright, okay, so maybe it’s best expo doesn’t get foisted on him, right now. But fuck, how is Richie gonna serve five and run this fucking kitchen?

Tina claps your back again, bringing you out of your state of worry. “Baby.”

“Yeah, T?” She turns your attention to a big pot of stock, on the burners that now work, thanks to you.

“Can you just stir this, f’me, for just a minute? Make sure the—”

“I’ll get the brown off the bottom yeah.”

She slaps your cheek, approving, “That’s my baby.”

And so, you stir. It’s an easy job, it just takes time— Time this kitchen doesn’t have, time you’re happy to give. Tina rushes over and takes over expo, while Richie moves out to take in stupid fucking booth twelve.

This kitchen is dysfunctional, the constant switches of expo require everyone to find a new rhythm, every time, and T needs to play catch up. Tina, Carmen, and Richie run expo just a touch differently from each other, since it’s a pretty cookie cutter job— But those minute differences change a lot. The tempo and tonal switches throw everyone off just slightly. They’re small mistakes, like a poor aesthetic sauce splatter, like Syd cutting her hand, like Marcus fucking up his saffron placement like five times in a row— It takes seconds off, it takes time. Time you do not have.

But what can you do? It’s all hands-on deck. Except for Fak’s hands. Get that man a water and a corner to sit in. He needs a second. So does the rest of this kitchen.

When Richie comes back in, it’s with a whine, he’s already so tired of this stupid fucking Michelin Exec. “—Wants to see a fuckin’ wine menu, do we have a fuckin’ wine menu?”

“No, Chef!” Syd and Carmen both chant out from other sides of the kitchen. Your ears perk up. They could’ve just asked you to make one, you would’ve. But, guess you don’t work here, technically.

Richie grimaces, “I know fuck all, bout wine.” He takes a swig of the red wine he left sitting on the expo podium. “Tastes fuckin’— Red, I dunno.”

Finally, something you can actually help with, in a critical way— Well, you just fixed an oven, but that doesn’t count, in your head. Most things you do don’t count, in your head. “T! Switch!” You whistle to her, and though she doesn’t love being ordered around, you’re already walking away from the pot, so you don’t really give her a choice.

“Rich, let me take it.”

Richie looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, but also, he finds those two heads very amusing. “Chippy...”

“I fucking know wine. I tend. I’m personable, I—”

“You don’t know how to kiss ass.”

“But I could.” You’re already peeling off Carmen’s jacket— Hey, thank God you dressed on theme, right? This could absolutely be a server’s fit. “Under duress.”

If it were up to Richie, you would already be out there. But his name is not on The Bear, as much as he’d like it to be. He looks to Carmen, who’s been staring at the both of you this entire interaction. Which is kind of concerning, he should probably be focusing on his three-quarter dice or he might to chop his fucking fingers off. No, he’s wouldn’t. He could probably do it with his eyes closed.

Carmen looks from Richie, who’s silently asking him for permission, to you. “Y’sure?”

“Yeah.” You nod, tucking his jacket under the expo podium. You don’t catch the way his face hardens, just a bit— Because you turn your gaze to Richie. “I’ll just do the drinks part, like an actual somme— Warm him up, f’you, when he’s ready to order. Let you stay on expo, longer.”

Richie rocks his head back and forth, considering it. You tack on, “I’m stage— What the fuck did you call it?”

“Staging.” Carmen answers.

“That one.”

Carmen stares at his cutting board, thinking and working, working and thinking. He does not look up at you, when he makes his decision. He just nods, “Okay.”

You nod back, happy. You don’t wait for him to change his mind. You take one quick overview of their wine rack, noting what they do and don’t have, and then you’re off, out the door, to the front of house, to a warzone.

The motherfucker at Booth Twelve sticks out like a sore thumb. There’s something about the aura he radiates, that tells you immediately that it’s him, despite not knowing his face or name. Bet it’s fucking Tony, somehow.

He’s doing his best to peer into the kitchen window without being obvious about it, which, he’s currently failing at that. Richie sat his party in a good booth, it’s just the worst booth for a good view of the kitchen. Smart. This guy is an asshole, and it’s clear from his stupid equally punchable looking friends, that he’s doing all of this on purpose.

The big party, unexpected. The him, unexpected. The asking for a wine menu. He wants you all off guard, he wants Carmen off-guard, he wants Carmen’s breath to hitch, he wants Carmen to sweat, and most importantly, he wants to watch.

You stand in front of his view, on purpose. “Hi, pleasure to serve you lovely people tonight, I’m—” No shot you’re giving this guy your real name. “—Jack, I’m your sommelier. I heard you wanted to look over a wine menu?”

“Yes,” His voice is just as stupid as you expected it to be. This is the fucking voice Carmen hears? God, lock it in, bite your tongue. “And I see you are not holding one.”

“Well, actually, we don’t carry a wine menu because we at The Bear believe in a personally curated dining experience.” You don’t miss a beat, you don’t hitch, he hates this and you can tell. “I like to think that I’m your wine menu, flip through me at your leisure.”

Your eyes crinkle, as you do an expert customer service smile. This stupid fucking table laughs at the lukewarm joke, he just smirks, because rich men don’t have time for laughter. So, their cronies do it for them.

“Well then,” He gestures his hand, giving you the floor. “What’s the menu?”

“Ah, well, was there anything on the main menu that caught your eye, so I can best pair you?”

“Hmm…” There’s a glint in his eye, and you know you’ve just expertly set him up to say ‘No.’ And then you’ll have no fucking comeback. You’ll probably throw up on the table, fuck fuck fuck— “Yes, actually.”

Oh, thank God. “The Wagyu steak with wild mushrooms and hazelnut-gruyere croquettes?”

Oh, that’s the one Carmen made for you, weeks back, you know that one. “Ah, one of my personal favourites. I’d recommend a young Pinot Grigio, maybe a 2006 Gravner?” How the fuck did you remember that? Doesn’t matter. What matters is this motherfucker is not getting under your skin.

“And what about the braised oxtail wellington?” The hot pocket, he means. You’ve had that, too.

“We have a fantastic Barolo Brunate to pair with that, Giuseppe Rinaldi 2019.” You have no idea if it’s fantastic. Who fucking cares. It’s expensive, you know that much. You only bothered to review the top rack.

“Lot of Italian vineyards.” A woman next to him comments.

“Well, we are Italian owned, so.”

It does not end there. No, why would it? No, he and his compatriots go about naming every single fucking thing on the menu, asking you to pair it. And not to toot your own horn too much, but this is, really, the one job you feel the most trained to do. All those games with Syd, all those men at Eden’s, all the parts and tools and forty different types of wrenches you have to keep track of and memorized as a repairman— Your brain is trained for this. This isn’t easy for you, sure— But you are maybe more equipped for this than any other person you could possibly think of. Good think you don’t have to think of people, you have to think of wines.

Once you survive the gauntlet, his ‘friends’ order their actual wines— Each by the bottle. Alcoholism in the food world is crazy. Also, how are you going to carry four to five full bottles here? Dear God. Whatever, you’ll live, and make insane bank— Or, The Bear, will, rather. That’s like a thousand on wine alone. When you get to Him, he puts his menu down and sighs, it’s very clearly fake.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“I’d want for nothing more.” You’d want for a lot more; actually, you’d want for him to shut the fuck up. But this is kind of a good thing. They’ve wasted a solid ten minutes just talking wine— Giving the kitchen ample time to catch up. This guy just shot himself in the foot with the sweat plan.

“This is a fine menu, but as you said, The Bear believes in a personally curated experience.” Fuck. “I don’t know if you know this, but I have a very personal relationship with the owner.” Fuck. “Would you hate me, if I asked for you to… Surprise me?”

He doesn’t need to ask for a surprise for you to hate him, is what you want to say, but instead you just smile, appeasing, kissing ass. You hate yourself just a bit for it. “I’ll see what we can do, sir. And so, you’d like a surprise wine, as well then?”

He does a customer service smile right back. You’re both passively cursing the other. “If that’s no trouble. Oh—” He tilts his head, cocky attitude really coming to a head now, “And budget isn’t a problem. Just the best.”

“I couldn’t imagine giving anything less, sir.” Another coy smile from you, before bowing and leaving their table. Your tight shoulders fall as soon as you walk back into the kitchen.

“I want him dead.”

“Agreed. Temp check?” Richie hums flitting through his notes, “We’ve got five steaks all day, Chefs, kill two. Fire now, Chefs.”

“Yes, Chef!”

You sidle up next to Rich, “They’re trying to make us sweat with quizzes. Just know your shit and they won’t be able to touch you.”

“Heard.”

“They ordered like five fucking bottles of wine.”

“Christ.” He turns to you, at that. “You upsell?”

“Didn’t have to. Named the most expensive bottles and they didn’t give it a second thought.”

He daps you up, it is difficult to hide your pride. “That’s my fuckin’ Chippy!”

You quell your smirk to the best of your abilities, especially since it isn’t all good news, “I think they’re ready to order, one problem, though.”

“Problem?” That’s when Carmen tunes in. He hands a finished plate to Richie, who hands it off to Sweeps, who begrudgingly heads out to deliver. “What’s the problem?”

“He says he wants to be surprised.”

“Like fucking Ratatouille?”

Carmen squints at Richie, for this, incredulous. You cannot back up your man, in this case, fully on Richie’s side. “Don’t act like you didn’t fuck with Ratatouille.”

“I didn’t see it.”

“You didn’t see it?!” Carmen’s always liked it, when the two of you speak in unison. Carmen hates it, when you and Richie speak in unison. “You’d love it, Carm.”

Any other time, he’d love to entertain you, on this, but he can’t. It makes you both feel very cold, when he brushes past the idea. “I’ll think’ve something.”

You nod, already moving to the wine cooler, sorting out bottles. “You have time, I’ll stretch out serving them—Richie, help me bring out bottles? Take their orders? Two birds, one stone?”

“It’s bullet.” “It’s not.”

The wine pouring is nothing to write home about.

“Don’t mind us tag-teaming, didn’t want anyone to feel left out for a minute!”

But is definitely a weird vibe, when you and Richie serve this table. You’re both equally personable— Though, going as fast as you can without making them feel rushed. Richie needs to get back on expo A-S-A-P.

Despite the fact that both of you are just as nice as the other… This fucking guy is absolutely giving Richie more attitude, in comparison to you. You have a feeling the only reason he didn’t shut you down earlier with the menu is because you’re a hostess. Yeuch. Gross man senses are tingling, but maybe it’s just you.

Richie whispers to you, when you’re walking back to the kitchen, “He’s a fuckin’ creep, eh?”

Okay, not just you. You know it’s bad when another man notices it. “Yep.”

Whatever. Use it to your advantage, in this case, if possible. Not like you have anything to worry about, just about everyone in the kitchen would jump him for you, upon request.

Would Carmen?

It’s a weird thought to have, but it’s a thought you can’t seem to stop yourself from having. Would Carmen choose your safety and comfort, over the chance to get a chance to get a star? …He would, right? He’d choose you, right?

“M’sorry for derailin’ dinner with our bullshit, Chip.”

The door swings open, Richie lets you in first. “You kidding? No where I’d rather be, than in your bullshit.”

Maybe this is better, than any apology you were planning to give. Better that you show with your actions, that you’re both actually back. That it’s you two, again. That you’re not going anywhere, this time. That even if you did leave, Richie’s gotta know, with a certainty, you’d rather be here.

Richie smiles, and you think you’re right. While he’s shouting out Booth Twelve’s orders, Carmen hands a plate to expo. You tilt your head, curious. He slides a folded-up card, with it. You don’t recognize the plate at all from the menu.

“S’yours.” Is his simple answer, already getting to work on Booth Twelve. He’s scribbling down notes and quick sketches of what surprise dish to make for the Exec. On the front of the card, it says ‘won’t have time to do it myself’, alongside a smiley face, for levity.

You open the card, flitting vision between the dish, the note, and Carmen. Digesting the recipe he’s written for you and your eyes, only. He knew he wouldn’t have time to explain it verbally, so he wrote it down for you. You could throw up, honestly.

This is, the sweetest, most thoughtful, most complex thing, anyone has ever made for you.

You have done your damndest, to almost never be the one to instigate a kiss, not a real one, with Carmen, because he asked for distance, so you try to give it. But right now, more than anything, you’d like to assail this man to the floor right now with your affections.

But you can’t. Because he’s busy, and he needs this, not you. Carmen needs this to go well. He needs this guy to like the food, he needs the inspector to like the food, he needs a star. Fuck, even without the prospect of an inspector looming over him— He needs to prove the man in his head wrong. There is no time for any of the love you have to give.

…Did you just think love?

Gotta table this, for now…

“Thank you, Carmy.” His movements relax, when you say it. He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow down, he doesn’t pivot to you and confess some long-standing prose of love, but he nods, and his shoulders untense. That’s practically the same thing.

His phone, laying on the expo podium, rings. Sug. You furrow your brows. “Carmen.”

“Hm?” He’s tense, and still not himself, but he sounds so sweet, when he hums.

“Nat’s calling.”

“Let it go to voicemail.”

“She’d know you’re working, right now.”

“She’s got mom brain.”

“Mom brains’ aren’t dumb.” You frown, a touch worried. Always doting, aren’t you. “Could be an emergency.”

Carmen wants to say it’s not a big deal. That there’s bigger fish to fry. That if he fucks this dinner up, it could mean Nat won’t have a job to come back to. That with all the love in the world, he does not have time for this, right now. And then he thinks of his brother, and suddenly he has time for this, right now. He picks up his notepad and pen, he can work anywhere, it doesn’t need to be at his station. “Give me.”

He takes the phone, shouting to his crew, “Taking two minutes, Chefs!”

There’s a half-second of complaints before a resounding, “Heard!”

Carmy points to you, as he walks to his office, “Eat.”

“I will.” You nod, and lie.

You won’t be eating the most perfect, most complex, most personal, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever made for you.

You already made your decision, when you saw the plate. When you read the note. When you saw the frantic scribbles at Carmen’s station, loose pieces of paper everywhere, all crumpled. He can’t come up with shit for the man in his head. You already made your decision, when the four other plates showed up on expo for his table, and all that’s left is the surprise dish, for The Man.

You will not be eating the most perfect, most complex, most personal, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever made for you. The man out front, the man in Carmen’s head, will.

Carmen needs this.

Your heart just short of breaks, when you put it on the serving tray, handing it off to Richie. “What’s this one?” He asks, not knowing, not having paid attention. He would’ve refused, if he did.

Syd was, though. She looks like a puppy watching another puppy get kicked. You swallow the feeling down, ignoring her stare. You don’t need to reread the card, it’ll stick in your head, for the rest of your life.

“Lamb saddle, roasted, pink. Aigre-doux eggplant, means sour sweet sauce, with lamb confit, fresh spring garlic, Montmorency sauce— It’s a dark red cherry sauce, topped with cherries and baby basil.”

You wouldn’t know any of the French terms, if they weren’t defined for you in the margins. There’s a parenthetical, next to the lamb— Mentioning that it’s roasted, explaining why saddle is a superior cut of lamb, noting why it’s best served pink— Mentioning that it’s similar to pork. Your favourite. There’re exclamation points next to the cherry additions, because it’s your favourite Italian ice flavour. They need to be emphasized, in the recipe. There’s another parenthetical, next to baby basil, ‘(yours)’. It’s your basil, from your balcony to his, now to his kitchen, now to your plate.

In spades, this is the best gift anyone has ever made you, and you watch it leave, through the swinging door. You can’t stop your expression from twitching, falling into a frown. Your heart sits heavy in your throat. When Syd silently stands next to you, taking over for Richie on expo, she returns your tiny container of Tums. You take one, eyes distant, looking at the kitchen, Carmen’s kitchen, biting down on the antacid.

Cherry.

This isn’t sad. It’s just a plate. It’s literally just a plate. Carmen can make it again. Carmen can make it a million times over again. So why does it sting like this? Why does it carve its way into the pit of your stomach? That was yours. Carmen— Carmen’s plate was yours, and you had to give it up. You want nothing more than to rip the dish from the stupid fucking Exec’s greedy fucking hands, take it for yourself, eat it whole, in one bite— Decree that he can’t fuck with Carmen anymore, that he holds no ownership anymore, that he is not the be all end all, that he is not the gavel and the sound block.

But he is. It hurts, because he is. Carmen is still under him, and so, you, being by his side, are under him too. You know you made the right call, giving the plate up, but the meaning behind it all hurts insurmountably.

Syd takes your hand; the wrinkles of her band-aids are a nice texture to return to. You appreciate that she’s comforting you, but you can’t help but notice, “Uh, uhm, let’s fire table twenty-five, twenty-eight, and— And fuck, twelve, Chefs.” She’s not great at the whole expo thing. She’s fast as a cook, she’s slow as a speaker.

You take a look over the book on the table, and bump her aside with your hip.

“Chefs, I’m gonna need ‘ya to fire six fish all day— ‘kay?”

“Heard, Chef?” The crowd is confused but they’re not gonna stop you.

“Good, good.” You note the dead plate by you, “This asparagus is fuckin’ dead can I get hands on flashing it, please, Chefs?”

“Yes, Chef!”

Syd eyes you, on the sidelines, perplexed. You shrug, “You and Carmen are not the first people that tried to get this fuckin’ kitchen in order, check yourself.”

You didn’t do all the French bullshit, but some days at The Beef definitely ran better when they had a former Lead EMT barking at them— With love, though. Always with love. Syd just laughs, shaking her head. It’s a delight, to always be learning new things about you. How overarching your handful of talents are. You really are a Jack of All Trades.

You run things a little differently than a typical actual expo would. But sometimes, that’s kind of a good thing.

“Baby, where are we at with table twenty?!”

“T,” You say names, instead of Chef, more often than not, “If you yell at me like that, I will, what—?” Your call and responses, are a bit different. “Start crying, yes, thank you, Chef. Table twenty’s plated, we’re just waiting on placement from Syd, take your time but not too much, babe.”

“Heard!”

Levity, temperature, ease. It’s what you bring to the table, in everything you do. And sometimes, yeah, that’s not what you need. But right now, that’s everything this kitchen needs.

When Richie eventually comes back, handling front of house almost entirely by himself, he’s relieved to see you on expo, and the kitchen functioning, but he seems a little thrown. Off his rhythm.

You put a hand on his shoulder, as he stands next to you. “You good, Cousin?”

He sighs, he’s not good. “M’good, Chip.”

“Can I get an all-day on pasta, Chef?” Marcus’ voice doesn’t really occur to you, in the background, right now. You’re all about Richie.

“What happened?”

“It’s nothin…” He kisses his teeth, “S’just, man’s a real piece of work— N’ I can’t— Can’t give it back to him.”

“What’d he say?”

“Just, just kinda… Made fun ‘a—” Richie pauses, clearing his throat. “He made fun of my voice. To his fuckin’ friends. Called me unprofessional, said the suit’s prol— Probably a knock-off— Which, it is, but—”

“Chef, pasta?”

“One second, Marcus!” You call out, quick, not taking your eyes off Richie. You hate to hear him attempting to switch, all the syllables fit uncomfortably in his mouth. You frown. “He’s an asshole. Don’t listen to ‘em. You should bite back a little, I think.”

Richie hums, arms crossing, guarding himself. He sighs, finally voicing the worry. Son of a bitch, this guy’s in Richie’s head now, too. “…D’you take me serious, Cousin?”

You soften, while simultaneously growing so angry, at how quickly Richie’s become demoralized, “Richie— Cousin, of course I take you seriously.”

The moment is cut short, however, by a reasonably frustrated Marcus, at his limit. “Tony, all-day pasta, shit, c’mon!”

About a minute or two earlier, Carmen went into his office to take a call. He’s still jotting down notes, trying to come up with a recipe, not knowing the effort is meaningless now.

“Everything alright, Sug?”

“Hm? Yeah, everything’s good, I just wanted to call ‘stead of text ‘cause my hands are full of baby.” He told you so, not an emergency. “You guys busy?”

“Yeah, actually, s’maybe I’ll call you back, after?”

“Sure, sure, yeah, I just wanted to let you know I didn’t get Tony’s invoice.”

He pauses, no longer writing. “What’d’you mean you didn’t get her invoice?”

“She said you took care of it.”

“She told me you took care of it.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause, as Natalie thinks, trying to recount. “Well, maybe I’ve just got mom brain, but I swear she told me you covered it, thought I wrote it down…”

“Yeah, you did.” Carmen flits through the folder he was looking at yesterday, finding her sticky note. “You wrote down to ask me for her invoice.”

“Yeah, so I could get a copy for our records. Maybe I just got mixed up and left it somewhere— Just double check before you ask her for it again, I like her, Carmy, I don’t want her to think we’re unprofessional.”

“We are unprofessional.” And you like them anyways. He pops open the desk drawer, flitting through folders, most of them labeled ‘stuff’ ‘shit’ ‘bullshit’ ‘bullshit stuff’. Carmen loves his brother but sometimes he curses the fucking sky. There’s every chance Sug slipped your invoice into one of these by mistake.

“Yeah, but I don’t want her to know that.” Carmen can hear little baby Michaela murmuring on the other end of the phone. “Tell her to come see the baby, by the way.”

“I will. I’m plannin’ on it.” After dinner. Maybe when he opens up your painting and he forces you to tell him ad nauseum what you thought of the cherry and lamb dish. Your dish. That shit is never getting put on the menu, no. It’s a lot easier to think of plates when they’re for you, it’s fucking impossible to come up with a dish for his old Head Chef— He really needs to get back out there, actually, he’s out of thinking time, he just has to throw shit at the wall.

But then he sees a folder he’d never paid attention to, before. ‘ICE Chip’s’. Another one of Mikey’s extremely confusingly titles. Carmen always figured it’d been a weird way of naming a folder meant for bulk orders of ice for drinks or for the walk in— But now, Carmen knows better, Carmen knows you. No harm in looking, right? He’ll take a quick peak, see it’s actually for ice, and then he’ll go back out there, rip his hair out, and put it on a plate for the fucking man out front that talked to him during his entire morning routine, today.

Except there’s not invoices for ice, in this folder.

“I’ve been reading her Frog and Toad, almost every night, by the way, Mickey loves it.”

No, it’s you, in this folder. Carmen wants to throw up. He’s being dramatic, he needs to relax, the blood in his veins is freezing and boiling at the same time.

And maybe if Carmen's day had started off a bit better, if he was acting like himself today, and not the man in his head, in his restaurant— Maybe he'd be a little more reasonable, right now. Maybe if he ate family earlier, instead of skipping it to re-tape all the containers in the walk-in, he'd feel a little more forgiving. If he wasn't so tired, if he wasn't so hungry, if he wasn't shaking off a minute cold he got from walking to your house past midnight, a few days ago, he'd be a bit less inclined to spiral.

But there’s a handful of film photos with the two of you— Just the two of you— Richie’s in one or two, but it’s mostly just you and Michael. His arm, over your shoulder, in again, most of them. Mikey looks non-plussed in half of them. You’re always holding some sort of cupcake or cake, in all of them, and there’s always a numbered candle, being blown out. There’re a couple different times there’s a One candle, a few Twos, only one Three.

You knew Mikey for two to three years, didn’t you? Anniversary photos?

Carmen is going to fucking throw up. Why are there multiple ones? One week-iversary? One month-iversary? He has never imagined his brother to be some fucking sap sentimentalist, and it’s making his skin crawl. You dated his fucking brother? He is just a fucking gap filler, he is.

There has got to be another reasonable explanation, for this. You wouldn’t do this to him— Someone would’ve said something to him— Richie would’ve at the very least made some sort of stupid fucking derogatory comment about him getting sloppy seconds— There is no fucking way you dated his fucking brother—

‘I’m with you Bear!!’

‘Just one more, Mikey’

‘love you’

Sticky notes. Your handwriting. There are sticky notes with your handwriting in this forsaken fucking folder. Telling Mikey you love him, and to keep going— You called him Bear. That makes sense, everyone calls all three of the kids Bear— But that was— You— He needs to throw up. It cannot stay in his throat; he cannot let this stay in his throat— ‘We go under together’ — And yet he cannot stop reading them. ‘Same team.’

Same team. You’re on the same team. With his brother. Isn’t that fucking sweet. Isn’t that just adorable. Isn’t the fucking photo booth strip of you two, clearly taken after seeing a movie, fucking precious?

The last thing in this folder is the nail in the coffin, the knife in the hand. Paperwork. Not an invoice, no. Not the fucking thing he was looking for. No. An old agreement form.

A joint bank account. Wells Fargo. Signed by both of you. Photo IDs photocopied, side by side on a black and white piece of paper, stapled onto the end. This feels more intimate than any piece of paperwork that has ever existed. Even a fucking marriage certificate can’t hold a candle to this. You had a joint bank account with a fucking two-bit junkie—

You fucking trusted him with your credit score— You loved Mikey enough to ruin your life— You wanted to go under together. That’s what you fucking wrote, isn’t it?

Every fear Carmen ever had is more than affirmed. He is here to fill a void, he’s here because his brother isn’t. He is nothing but a series of stories his brother has told you, to you. Nothing but another Berzatto man that you desperately try to rehabilitate and fix and inevitably fail with, because they’re all fucking hopeless, before moving onto the next.

He doesn’t even need to kill himself, this time, no— You’ll realize he’s a lost fucking cause when you realize he’s nothing like his brother, when you find out he’s sharp and rendered, that even if he was a good person, he’s still him, and that’s a rot that not even you can fix— You’ll leave him unfinished like all the projects in the corners of your apartment. Because that’s what he is, to you, a project, something to fix. He’s like all your other jobs. He’s a job. Just another distressed restauranteur. Nothing but a fucking replaceable part, that you’ve got ten more spares for in your car.

Carmen doesn’t need to be fixed— He’s perfectly fine the way he is— He was fucking great before you showed up, actually— No, he wasn’t happy, but he was talented, and he wasn’t so brain-dead that he’d fuck up a basic meal thinking of you, he wasn’t so stupid that he’d speak out of turn and call you pretty, he wouldn’t have gotten a cold walking to your house in the winter, he would’ve just taken a hot shower until it hurt, without you— Carmen was— is— A Two Michelin Star chef, he’s fucking great without his brother— He runs The Bear without him just fine, he did everything without his fucking brother just fine, it didn’t hurt when Mikey stopped picking up the phone, Carmen doesn’t need his fucking brother, so he certainly doesn’t need you.

“Carmen?” His sister is still on the phone. Waiting for him to respond. Waiting for him to entertain the idea of being a good uncle. He doesn’t need his sister, either. He hangs up without as much as a simple ‘bye’.

He hears Marcus, yelling for an all-day, yelling Tony. Even still Carmen’s expecting Richie’s voice to reply, but instead, it’s yours that reverberates in past the office door.

“Aye, Marcus! We’ve got three alfredo, two cannoli, one gnocchi, okay, sweets? Same team, right?”

“Same team, Chef.”

Oh, so it’s a fucking Beef thing, too? That’s so fucking cute. It’s so cute, how you’re everywhere, in everything. It’s so goddamn tender how he finds you carved into tables, finds you in filing cabinets, finds you under his booths, finds you in his walk-in, finds you in his shower caddy each morning, finds you on his balcony in a plant pot, finds you in his fridge in a spray bottle, finds you with Syd, finds you with Richie, finds you with Tina, Marcus, Jimmy, Mikey.

So cute. So fucking cute, that he’s gonna see you out there, running his kitchen, fixing everything you deem wrong with him.

Carmen Berzatto doesn't need anyone to ruin his own life except for him. He'll prove it.

i know i know i know i know--

I said it wouldn't be that much of a cliffhanger but when i got through writing the last fourth of this chapter i was having a lot of trouble because pace wise it just really really needed to be a separate part-- and this way, i get to do a fun format style change that i planned but thought i wouldn't get to do TURNS OUT I DO GET TO!! yeehaw

so much happened this chapter, like while writing it, when i'd go back to edit, i was like oh my god that was this chapter?? jesus christ. I was really waiting for y'alls reaction to this one, so please do harang me wherever you feel comfortable ranting to, i love to see it.

But yeah, really fuckin brutal, eh? And a lot of half lore dumps! You think they dated? You think it's something else? The RichiexTony and SydxTony crowds are eating fucking good tonight, also. Love those cuties and their friendships.

We've got a taglist now, I'm bad at keeping track of it, but remember if u wanna be added to this silly little thing you need to hand in an essay (more like a cute lil paragraph) tellin' me what you thought! And also ask. Duh. BUT YA GOTTA DO BOTH!~

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin

[angeltannis]

Yesterday marked a month since I got diagnosed with Covid and today I nearly collapsed because I dared to try to lightly exercise. My lungs felt like when you suck in a lungful of freezing cold air, like it hurts and burns all through your chest, and I could barely get my breath. So I guess I officially have Long Covid. Yaaaay <-wants to be dead

[running-in-the-dark]

had a conversation about gym class with my friend who I went to school with today - it was depressing but also nice to hear that her experience with it (at that particular school) was just as bad as mine.

I don't think the way my school treated gym class was entirely normal tbh. it was completely different to the school I went to after, anyway. and everyone I talked to there only knew gym class to be a pretty fun, lighthearted thing. at my old school it was only about achievement, you had to be perfect, if not you were usually yelled at. and if you couldn't participate because you were feeling a bit ill (but not enough to stay home from school) you were ridiculed and/or insulted in front of the whole class. this happened with every gym teacher we had over the whole 9 years there.

it felt like two hours of punishment, there was nothing good about it. and it made at least the both of us feel like any kind of exercise/sport, especially in a group setting, was terrifying - for years after. even my much more positive experience at the other school I went to didn't make that go away.

[slipper007]

🫠

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men with a big-chested reader

Pairings: Nanami x reader; Geto x reader (nsfw); Yuji/Sukuna x reader; Gojo x reader

Word Count: 4,4k (she's big)

Warnings: THIS IS A FIC WITH A BIG-CHESTED READER! so if this triggers you, don't read it (especially in Sukuna's part, you might get triggered when having smaller boobs so just do me a favor and don't read it instead of leaving a sassy comment), boob play in Geto's part so nsfw, in general harassment but big old fluff from your faves, not proofread bc I have my final exam tomorrow - hope you enjoy! 🤍

Special thanks to one of my moots for letting me turn her cleavage into a cover for this fic - you look STUNNING + thank you to everyone who sent me their experiences for this!

Since I'm not big-chested myself, I'm calling all my big boobie girlies to leave me a lil review about this fic - it would literally help me so much 😭

Click here to get to the small-chested version

Nanami Kento

You sigh to yourself, too exhausted to even stand up straight anymore. Today was like a trip to hell and back. All those fucking curses, the death, the horror. You rub your tired eyes, the stinging pain in your back reminding you more than urgently that you have been up for way too long.

“You look tired, darling. Go change and get into bed with me.”

Oh, that deep voice behind you, the voice you learned to love to the moon and back. How did it even happen that a man like Nanami Kento was seeking interest in you? What was it that made a man like him even look your way? You’ve known each other for quite some time, seeing each other on missions from time to time. But when you began to work at Jujutsu High, everything changed so fast that you couldn’t keep up. And now you’re sitting here in his bedroom, watching in awe as he crawls into bed with nothing but his boxer shorts on.

You would love to get out of your uniform right now, But most importantly, you urge to take off that soaking wet bra that has been bugging you since afternoon. You have no choice, though. With a large chest like yours, it simply isn’t possible to leave the house for missions without extra support. You glance at him while he reads in his book, your gaze falling to your chest.

This isn’t exclusively about missions and you know it. Even though you’ve been together for a few months now, you were never brave enough to show Kento your breasts. Not without a bra, let alone completely naked. Just the thought of him seeing how your big breasts fall down when they slip out of their bra shells, the look on his face when he realizes that you don’t look like those large-chested models with their boobs standing like mountains. Yours definitely don’t. And you fucking hate it.

“I know that look on your face. You are uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

His soft voice rips you out of your pondering immediately. Fuck, he caught you again.

“No…I mean…Yes, kinda…”

You can’t lie into his gorgeous face, not even when the truth makes you feel so uncomfortable. Oh, how much you wished you look the way he deserves it with delicious female curves that suit his flawless appearance. But as soon as you look down, you just know how awful your boobs will look when set free. So you’ll do what you do every night: wait until Kento is asleep to finally take off your bra only to set an alarm in the morning to get up before him and put it back on.

“I always wondered why you are waiting until I sleep to take off your bra and put it back on before my alarm goes off.”

You can’t help but stare at him, mind racing while your palms start to get sweaty. Fuck, how did he even notice? No, why did you ever think he wouldn’t? Kento cares about you like none other, never pushed you to take off your shirt, never failed to ask you how you’re feeling.

“Listen, darling.”

He gets off the bed and kneels down in front of the chair you are sitting on, gently taking your hand into his.

“I just want to make sure you feel comfortable around me. Am I the reason that you don’t want to take your bra off? I can see clearly how uncomfortable it makes you feel.”

“No!”, you blurt out immediately.

Calm down your tingling nerves, this is ridiculous. You stare blankly at your hands intertwined with his.

“I mean…It has nothing to do with you, it’s me.”

“How is this about you, love? There is no reason for you to feel uncomfort-“

“I’m afraid.”

You swallow hard. Are you oversharing? Will he laugh at you for something so ridiculous? But what if he sees you naked at some point, his gaze dropping to your chest only to be greeted by your large hanging chest? You can imagine the look of disgust on his face, how he turns away from you, how-

“Hey, look at me darling. Look at me and tell me what’s wrong”

He cups your cheek gently, forces your haunted eyes to look at him, to stare into his orbs filled with sincerity. There is no way out of this, you can’t lie into his gorgeous face.

“When I take my bra of my breasts just…hang. It’s even visible through my t-shirt…”, you mumble, cheeks redder than the devil.

Thick silence hangs between both of you, his gaze still as soft as before. What is going on inside his head? Is he secretly laughing at you, does he even care about what you have to say?

“Let me make a few things clear.”

He lifts himself off the ground and pulls you up. You squint your eyes, mind racing over why on earth he made you stand up. Is he going to leave, to laugh?

“First of all: I love you just the way you are. I love your gorgeous smile, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself. And I love your breasts-“

“You didn’t even see them yet.”

“I don’t have to in order to know that”, he continues.

“Nothing makes me sadder than seeing you uncomfortable each and every night before going to bed. Of course, I don’t know for sure, but I imagine it to be really painful after some time. Isn’t it digging into your skin?”

Oh, you think about the countless times the sweat underneath your bra made you almost go insane, the red streaks that visibly show where the wire cut into your skin all day.

“It kinda is…”, you confirm with low voice.

“Don’t do this to yourself. I adore you just the way you are and I am dying to see you laying comfortably in your t-shirt next to me. So please, would you allow me to take it off for you?”

Your eyes widen in pure shock. Is this a bad joke, is he just teasing you? No, this is Nanami Kento. And the way he gazes at you with nothing but affection gleaming in his eyes tells you that he’s telling the true, that this is what he wants right now. But are you ready to expose yourself like this? What if he’s still disgusted after saying all those nice words?

You let your head fall against his chest, breathe in his delicious scent. A voice deep inside you tells you to stop, to just relax inside his arms. This is the man who chose you out of all people, who stood by your side no matter what. Kento proved more than once that he loves you dearly, never made you feel the slightest bit bad about yourself.

“Go ahead…”, you mutter against his chest.

His hands wander up your back gently, make shivers run down your spine until he reaches the clasp of your bra. Your heart simply stops when he unclips it through the fabric of your shirt. You fade into darkness as soon as his hands wander up to your shoulders, slide down the thick straps and pull down your bra until he finally lands on the floor.

Slowly, he takes a step back and picks it off the ground.

“You will never have to wear this again when you are home with me, okay? Not when it makes you feel so uncomfortable”, he gently speaks out.

You stare in awe while he carefully places your big bra over the chair and returns in an instant to pull you close against his chest.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

“Yeah”, you mumble, body slowly but surely getting flooded by warmth.

“Going to bed sounds good…”

Geto Suguru

You feel hot but at the same time cold, turned on but at the same time scared. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. At this very moment, none other than Suguru Geto is laying on top of you, kissing you so passionately that you forget how to breathe.

What an overwhelming feeling it is to call him your boyfriend for a few months now. Such a kind and loving man, always looking out for you, giving you the time you needed for this to finally happen. You couldn’t believe your own ears when whimpering that you want him, that you are ready.

But are you really ready for showing him that part of your body? The part that began too grow way too early in your life, the part you’ve always got picked on by all the other girls.

“Look, there she is! She looks like a cow ready to milk!”

“That cleavage…She’s literally begging for it, what a bitch.”

“Ew, are those pimples on your tits?”

You know you are better than that, that your big breasts just belong to you and that you should love yourself just the way you are. But with none other than Suguru laying on top of you, his hands slowly but surely coming dangerously close to your breasts…

“Wait”, you breathe out, haunted eyes making Suguru stop in his tracks in an instant.

“Did I do something wrong? If you don’t want to, we don’t-“

“No, this is great. I- … I waited so long for this. But I just wanted to let you know that…”

You swallow hard. Are you acting ridiculous, destroying the moment with your behaviour? Suguru’s chocolate brown orbs don’t show a hint of annoyance. Instead, he gently strokes your hair while waiting for you to move on.

He deserves to know it

“I might not have the nicest boobs. They are big, but not well formed like the ones of those models. I tend to sweat a lot underneath them, my skin breaks out from time to time and my nipples might be-“

“Stop that right now, (y/n).”, Suguru gently interrupts you with a grin.

But it doesn’t look like the grin of the girls who picked on you for years. No, this grin is filled with warmth and loves, fills you with what feels like confidence. After all, he said that he loves you just the way you are over and over, right? Still, he didn’t even see your boobs. What if he changes his mind?

“There is absolutely nothing, and I mean NOTHING about you that isn’t ‘nice’. I don’t care about what the chest of random models looks like, to be honest I don’t care about anyone but you. And you are everything I want, you are everything I see, you are everything I love.”

His words make you tear up in an instant, send your whole body into space. As long as you can remember, no one ever said really nice things about your breasts and therefore you. You were either insulted or sexualized. But that force of a man on top of you…He just looks into your eyes that are filled with nothing but warmth. This man means every word he says.

“Well, that’s cool”, you mutter without even thinking about your words, lost in the sheer sight of his sincere eyes.

There is no one in the world you want to show your boobs more. Like in trance, you pull up the hem of your shirt and let it fall to the floor mindlessly.

“Are you okay with me touching them?”, he purrs against your ear.

A silent whimper escapes your lips while you simply nod, whole body on fire where it touches his. Painfully slow, he lets his hands wander down your hair onto your shoulders, trace the line of your collarbones until he reaches…

Your breasts.

What an unknown feeling. But oh, what a sensation as well. You arch your back out of instinct while he massages your breasts, the feeling of his fingertips against your still skin alone simply driving you insane.

God, who would have thought you’d ever hear Geto Suguru moan against your ear by just looking, touching, squeezing your boobs? His eyes are darkened by lust, the way his heart pounds against his ribcage echoes through your very own body.

“You look absolutely gorgeous. I can’t stop looking at you, (y/n).”

You feel like flying, fainting, losing your balance. There is no doubt in the fact that this man adores you the way you are, that your constant fear of him not liking your large chest was more than unfounded.

“So…you don’t mind the way my breasts look?”, you whimper underneath his bittersweet touch.

“More than that, I adore you”, he replies in an instant. “And now, let me see you in your full glory.”

Yuji/Sukuna

You’re back feels like it might break every minute, shirt dripping in sweat in the sheer heat of the summer sun. You just want to get out of here, away from those disgusting people, back into your dorm. How stupid it was to leave Jujutsu High on your own for a little stroll through the city. Without the protection of Maki or Nobara, without any good friend who shields you from all the unwanted looks your large chest attracts. While most people think it must be a blessing, it definitely is a curse to you 80% of the time.

Just like right now.

“Come on, I just asked for one grab!”, a guy shouts after you.

Out of instinct, you pick up your pace, not even daring to turn around. What did you even do to catch his attention? You gaze down at your breasts that uncomfortably bounce up and down in the way too tight bra you are wearing today. No, you did absolutely nothing wrong. It’s just these disgusting people who seem to see nothing but the size of your chest.

“Why would you want to touch her? She looks like a cow”, the girl next to him comments along with an ugly laugh, making your heart sting in an instant.

“What a slut”, another voice mutters.

“Oh, I didn’t know you are out today! How are you, (y/n)?”

Your heart almost stops inside of your chest, hands beginning to tremble in an instant. No, not him. Not right here when these people are chasing you. If there’s someone you don’t want to hear those things about you, it’s Yuji Itadori.

“J-just…l-leave”, you stutter.

“Huh? But I just met you! Would you like to watch a movie with me?”

“Look, the cow brought her friends!”

“Do you think he’ll get in her pants today?”

“What a lucky bastard, I’d love to touch them just once…”

Yuji’s face drops in an instant when realizing their words are directed towards you.

“Hey, there’s no need to be rude”, he begins but gets stopped by uncontrollable laughter immediately.

You want to die right here on the spot, disappear from the surface of earth. As if being treated like this wasn’t enough, why does it have to be Yuji who witnesses it all?

“Step aside, loser. Let me handle that.”

Sukuna leans forward in his throne, thick anger rising inside of his chest. You, the one who caught his eye when he first saw you. You, with the immense powers. You, with a dangerous mind that could end wars. Who are these people to talk to you in this manner?

“Are you crazy? I definitely won’t let you out right now”, Yuji replies in an instant.

“You aren’t able to help her brat, now get lost!”

“I won’t let you-“

Enough.

“Now who exactly do you losers think you are, huh?”

That voice, that aura? Your mouth feels dry like the desert in an instant, eyes widen in pure shock. No, this is impossible, Yuji is in control over his body, this can’t be-

“With tits like yours, I would be jealous of someone gorgeous like her as well”, he spits at one of the girls following you.

“And you.”

With a swift motion, he grabs on of the guy’s wrists roughly. Just a little more pressure and it will snap.

“P-please. Don’t!”, you shout after him.

Urgh, why does your begging voice make his grip loosen in an instant, what is it about you that made him switch with this brat anyway?

“Were you really just trying to touch her chest? Thinking just because she has a big chest, you are allowed to touch her, to sexualize her, huh? You humans disgust me with your simple desires”, Sukuna continues.

“If it wasn’t for her unshakable character, I would kill every single one of you right on the spot. But for now-“

In the matter of seconds, all their arms hang in unhealthy directions, visibly broken by the sheer force of none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

You want to scream at him, want to run away, want to get away from this place. But on the other hand, a warmth fills your chest. Did the king of curses just stand up for you, protect you from their rude comments?

“Get going”, he barks at you.

“This was unnecessary”, you mumble.

“And give Yuji back.”

“You should be thankful, (y/n). They will worship you for the rest of your life.”

“No, they will be scared of you for the rest of their lives”, you clarify, hands still trembling.

“So what? Nobody gets away with insulting you over your perfect body. Especially not over the size of your chest. How ridiculous…”

You can’t believe your ears, eyes darting towards him in an instant while you turn redder than a tomato. Did he just say that you are…perfect?

“You didn’t mean that”, you breathe out.

“Oh god I’m so sorry (y/n). Did he hurt you?”, the familiar voice of Yuji cries out.

Calm down your tingling nerves, your pounding heart. Sukuna’s gone. Sukuna…stood up for you. Sukuna said you have a perfect body.

What?

“N-No”, you stumble.

How are you supposed to get over this?

Gojo Satoru

Finally. You sit in front of the bar, excited by the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume that hangs in the air. After working your ass off for what felt like an eternity, you decided to use your day off right. You put on the dress that fits you best, packed your purse and went into the first bar you’ve seen.

Damn, when was the last time you were out on your own? With all your friends being out of town for vacation, this definitely is new.

“Not bad”, you mutter to yourself, eyes roaming around people making out, heartfelt laughter and a group of women sipping on their cocktails.

A cocktail, exactly what you need today.

“Hey, I’d love to order something”, you speak out when the waiter finally comes cross you.

What a lucky day, they even have your favourite cocktail in store. You’re usually not the type of girl to go out on yourself, but these last months, you truly learnt how enjoyable time can be with yourself as your only company. You smile to yourself. Yeah, this is definitely something you could get used to.

“There you go”, the friendly male announces and places the glass filled with joy in front of your hungry eyes.

You gift him the sweetest smile you have before taking a sip. Oh, this tastes absolutely amazing.

“I’ve never seen a woman like you alone in a place like this.”

Your heart drops to the floor in an instant, hands holding onto your glass tightly. Ew, a man is certainly the last thing you want to hear right now with the bartender being the only exception. Instead of even looking his way, you just take another sip of your well-mixed cocktail, the music blasting out of the boxes might make him think you can’t hear him and leave.

Honestly, there aren’t many things that creep you out more than men approaching you. Since you’ve reached puberty and your breasts starting to grow bigger and bigger, it almost felt as if you weren’t a person anymore. With rare exceptions here and there, most of them only talked to you because of one thing:

Your boobs.

Is the man sitting next to you one of them?

“Hey, I’m talking to you, gorgeous.”

Your whole body tenses up in an instant, eyes darting towards him by the sound of his harsh voice.

“Excuse me, I’m not up for a talk”, you bite back.

While you did meet genuinely nice men and have some male friends, the one sitting next to you certainly is one of the other categories. God, how much you hate it, being looked down at and reduced to the size of your breasts. You can’t even count how many times you’ve got commented on them, how many men and women just shamelessly stared at your bust instead of your face while talking to you. It’s safe to say you have enough of all of this.

“A woman who presents what she has like that is up for a talk and far more than that. Why would you come here dressed like a slut if you don’t want me to talk to you?”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, all thoughts vanish into thick air. This disgusting guy with his beard filled with crumbs and breath stinking like the cheapest beer is definitely up for no good. You, dressed like a slut? You wear a basic black dress, the only one your boobs didn’t fall out when trying it on. What the hell is this creep talking about?

“Just because my boobs are big doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Watch how you talk to me”, you bite back.

“I talk however I want to a bitch like you. Are you up to go somewhere more…private?”

The scene that lays itself out in front of Gojo’s eyes is hard to bear. He doesn’t even know the woman in the black dress sitting in front of the bar, let alone the guy sitting next to her. But just one look into your disgusted face is enough to know that something isn’t right. How you cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes filled with horror, the way you scoop backwards with every word this man says. Are you okay? He shouldn’t let other people’s business bother him. Fuck, wasn’t he here to get his mind off saving everyone all the time? Nah, he should enjoy his evening, drink that new whiskey they offer, just relax and-

You aren’t even able to comprehend what is happening next to you. He stretches out his hand, ready to touch your breasts without consent when another pair of hands stops him mid-air.

“I think the lady said no. Don’t ya think it’s a little over the top to go into a bar and touch a woman’s boobs?”

His voice might sound playful, but your blood freezes inside of your veins by the power he radiates. Just one glance into his face tells you he is like no men you’ve ever met.

“I…She…She said she wanted it to!”, the crumble beard tries to defend himself.

“I said what? Are you out of your fucking mind!? I told you to leave me alone and you harassed me!”, you clarify in harsh tone.

Oh, how much you’d love to break his nose right now, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the white-haired man seems to have the same plans.

“A guy like you wouldn’t end up with her anyway. That lady has class. And you, my friend, are just a disgusting pervert. Are you touching other women too without consent? Isn’t your first time, huh?”

With a swift motion, he begins to twist the man’s hand around itself. He whines out in pain in an instant, face twisted just like yours before when he talked you down.

“Let me go!”, he cries out in visible discomfort.

“This is what you get for treating a lady so badly. You can be glad she even looked your way.”

When he gifts you a sly grin, you can’t help but blush. What is it about this man that feels so different, so damn inviting? He seems like no other men you’ve met before. And the fact that he just called you lady…Why do your knees suddenly feel weak?

“Now repeat after me: I.am.sorry.for.disrespecting.you.”

“I will not apologize to a girl who’s dressed like a slut!”

A loud crack makes the already muted room go completely silent, the violent scream coming out of this man’s mouth when his wrist breaks like spaghetti echoing through the room.

“Wrong answer”, the white-haired man purrs.

“Hey, would you mind just taking the trash out?”, the barkeeper questions.

“Did you hear that, dirty boy? Let me show you the way!”

“Are you alright? I didn’t even notice he was harassing you. I’m so sorry”, the bartender speaks out towards you.

“Oh, it’s okay.”

You aren’t even able to give him a real answer, eyes glued on the white-haired man who carries your harasser out like trash.

Like in trance you get back on your feet and follow him out into the cool air of the night.

“Have a nice evening!”, he friendly shouts after the man who sprints down the streets like a coward, as fast away as possible.

“You definitely scared the shit out of him”, you comment.

“He definitely deserved it. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m used to shit like that”, you reply with a huff.

“But normally, they aren’t this disgusting.”

“I hate to hear that. You seem like a genuinely badass and nice person. You didn’t deserve his words.”

“Not as nice as my knight in shining armour who stopped him from touching my boobs.”

He lets out a heartfelt laughter, bright blue orbs set on you.

“Hey, what about me escorting you back home? I’m totally in the mood to beat up any other men who gets in your way.”

“Only if you let me join, though”, you challenge him.

“Definitely a deal. Hey, what’s your name?”

“(y/n)”

“(y/n), huh? Cool name, suits you right? My name’s Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet you.”

He stretches out his hand in front of you, inviting you to take it. You can’t help but smile at his sheer excitement. No, you just have to take his warm hand into yours and shake it.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @maya-maya-56 @jinririz @getou0309 @ieathairs

Dividers by @saradika 🤍

[kkami-writes]

that hufflepuff boy

pairing. hufflepuff!felix x slytherin!fem!reader ft! hufflepuff!bangchan, slytherin!seungmin, ravenclaw!hyunjin synopsis. The moment you stepped into the halls of Hogwarts your classmates had deemed you as the princess of slytherin, a title you learned to hate. If only they knew that the cold, seemingly proper girl was absolutely head over heels for Hufflepuff's resident sunshine boy, Lee Felix. tags/cw. hogwarts!au, fluff, maybe some angst if you squint, lots and lots of mutual pining, acquaintances to lovers, side seungjin, smut, slight corruption, public sex (library), virgin!felix, oral (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names (princess, love), unprotected sex (don't do it), swallowing of cum

disclaimer!!! both felix and reader are 18+, consenting adults at the time of smut. word count. 5k (5,155)

The first time you had met Felix is during third year, on a random spring morning as the two of you were paired up during potions. It had been a rough first three years for you as the nickname of Slytherin’s princess had been pushed upon you solely based on your parents' old-fashioned views. Even in this more progressive time, there were still a fair amount of pure-blood purists despite it being an unpopular stance after the second wizarding war.

Still, people had assumed you had thought the same as your parents and being sorted into slytherin hadn’t helped your case. Reluctantly, you instead fell into your role as the prim and proper princess they thought you were - no one had ever bothered to even ask if you could think for yourself or had your own opinions. Although you did have a few actual friends, the isolation you had felt from your peers had made you slightly bitter. 

So when you’re paired up with a random hufflepuff who gives you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, one that could easily rival the sun - you’re a little starstruck. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this and it easily makes your cheeks darken. He treats you like a normal person, as if you were already friends and it’s…refreshing to say the least. The last person you got partnered up with had sat as far away from you as they could and didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary. 

You’re surprised that you work well with the boy, him making small conversation and keeping you engaged in the potion work. Felix is nice, almost too nice, and you’re sure he’s like this with everyone but you still feel a surge of happiness when he laughs at one of your small jabs. You can’t help but think the sound is just as sweet as him. 

As class ends, you’re packing up your books and Felix waves goodbye to you with that pretty smile on display. 

“Bye! I hope we can talk again!” Then he’s gone and you’re left sitting there a little dazed as you stare at his retreating figure, something stirring in your chest that you’re not 100% sure of, but you do know one thing. 

And it’s that Felix is made up of sugar, everything nice and sun kissed freckles, and you’re pretty sure you’re fucked.

By fifth year you had fully recognized that the flowers blooming your chest was pure adoration for the hufflepuff. You had been sitting in the library with Seungmin, who was busy with his nose in a book and blatantly ignoring your obvious heart eyes towards a certain boy who sat not too far away at his own table; him and his quidditch captain Chan were probably going over some strategies for the upcoming game this weekend. Hyunjin was on your left, the ravenclaw busy with another one of his drawings he often did. 

You let out a small dreamy sigh, one that was barely audible but it was enough to have your fellow slytherin rolling his eyes and closing his book.  “Are you for real? You look so pathetic…how long have you been pining over that hufflepuff for?” He groans, throwing his head back. 

“Aw, I think it’s kinda cute,” Hyunjin chimes in, not looking up from his drawing.

“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic,”

“Ok mister I read romance novels,” At this Seungmin’s ears tinge red and you think he might throw his book at the male. They thought you were annoying with your crush? They should look at themselves. With Seungmin thinking he was slick with his hidden gazes towards the ravenclaw or the many sketches Hyunjin had of the slytherin. 

“Can you two shut up? I’m busy pining over here,” They both roll their eyes at you now. 

“Honestly? I’m surprised he’s your type. I thought someone like Minho hyung was your type,”

“It’s because Felix is the only one willing to give yn any time of the day,” You swat at Hyunjin for that and he simply clutches his arm dramatically, whining your name. 

As you play fight with your friends (was it really playing though? The three of you were probably gonna get kicked out of the library soon), it goes unnoticed by you that someone else had been staring a little too long over at your table, his eyes sparkling as he watched you interact with the two who were usually never seen without you. He’s pulled from his thoughts as his own best friend and quidditch captain Chan nudged him from his tiny daydream. 

“You good mate? You've been staring at her for a while. We are supposed to be going over strategies,” He teases lightly as he watches Felix’s ears turn a little red. 

“Um, right. Sorry! I’ll focus, I promise,” Chan laughs, his signature dimples showing as he ruffles up the blonde’s hair.

“It’s fine, I should probably go study for my n.e.w.t.s anyway and we have practice tomorrow so we can go over more stuff,” Felix nods, agreeing with him before his gaze is once again glancing over towards you and it looks like you’re about to strangle Seungmin, while Hyunjin holds you back by your robes with a bored look on his face. He can’t help but laugh at your guy’s ministrations - he loved that you had slowly come out of your shell since third year and had found some good friends.

Well, at least he hoped they were just friends. He wouldn’t go as far to say the two of you were friends either, just acquaintances, mostly talking to each other in the halls when you passed by or occasionally partnering up during class. But Felix still did not have the guts to ask you out on a date, the fear of rejection controlling him. Chan is nudging him again and he’s pulled out of yet another daydream.

“Damn, you’ve got it bad huh? You’ve barely even talked to her for the last two years,” “Hey, that’s not true!! I say hi to her everytime I see her in the hall!”

“Uh huh. Why are you so interested in her anyway? Aren’t her parents blood-purists? I don’t think they’d approve of a muggleborn, no offense. And she is called the slytherin princess for a reason,” 

“Yeah but she’s not like that,” Felix is quick to defend you, not that he really thought Chan believed in those kinds of rumors - he was just curious about his crush.

“How do you know?” “Just- okay in third year, I remember everyone telling me to beware of the ‘slytherin princess’” he makes quotations with his fingers. “That she was cold and mean and definitely would not be nice to a muggleborn like me. But then we got partnered together during potions and she was really nice? And funny? I just thought you know, that she couldn’t be that bad. Plus! Seungmin and Hyunjin are both half-bloods, and they’re like her best friends. When we talk, just the two of us, she’s kinda shy to be honest. It’s cute and all but, when I see her like that,” Felix points to you, who is laughing hard at a joke Seungmin had said, both you and Hyunjin holding onto each other as you wheeze. The librarian shushes you loudly and gives the three of you yet another warning, only one away from getting kicked out. “When she’s alone with her friends she blossoms into this really bubbly and bright personality and I just - I want to be able to bring out that side of her when she’s with me. I wanna be able to get to know her more…you know…maybe ask her on a date,” He flushes at that and Chan lets out a low whistle that gets his own little hush from the librarian.

“Yeah, you are down atrocious my man. I think it’s time to put on your big boy pants. You should ask her out, after the hufflepuff vs slytherin game. After we win you can ask if she wants to go celebrate,” 

“Oh..that might be a good idea. She always comes to the games for Seungmin. But wait, what if we lose?” 

(Felix will later find out that you had only ever attended the Hufflepuff vs Slytherin games just so you could watch him, something Seungmin always complained and pouted about.  “I’M your best friend! You should be watching for me!! Not that stupid pretty Hufflepuff,” “So you admit he’s pretty?”

“I fucking hate you,” ) “Then you ask her if she’ll take you on a date so you can get over this horrific loss we have faced,”

“That…makes me sound like a loser,” Chan just shrugs. 

“Listen, if it gets you a date who cares,”

“Ok, yeah. You’re right. First, we’re gonna stomp Slytherin into the ground. And then- I’m gonna ask her out,”

Felix did not in fact put on his big boy pants on. While they had in fact won the game, he had frozen when you hopped over to him, a pretty smile on your face as you congratulated him on the win. His mind blanked, head empty as he just stared at how pretty you looked and how he wished he could give you his Hufflepuff scarf for you to wear. He wanted you to cheer for him during his quidditch games. He thinks you’d look breathtaking in yellow. 

But instead he said a quick ‘thanks!’ before running away, face completely red and leaving you behind with a small disappointed look on your face.

By seventh year, you were no closer to being over your infatuation with the pretty freckled Hufflepuff. Even though you had dated other people here and there, no one could compare to the way your heart reacted whenever you talked to Felix briefly in the halls. 

Still, you had slightly given up hope that the boy would reciprocate your feelings. Afterall, he had shown no signs of being into you - despite what Seungmin and Hyunjin had told you. You were still scared of rejection, that he wouldn’t be interested in a Slytherin like yourself, much less one still dubbed the princess of snakes. 

Yet Felix continued to treat you the same as always, greeting you in the hallways with that sweet smile of his and it never failed to put butterflies in your stomach. 

So when you’re paired up for a project in potions again, you can’t help the excitement that builds in your chest. It’s a more extensive project, requiring you to brew a particularly complex potion, needing to do research in the restricted section as well as write an essay. 

“Hey!” Felix greets you with that devastating smile and you pretend you’re not melting on the inside. His voice had gotten so deep and that blasted australian accent was constantly trying to make your knees buckle when you heard it. You can see Seungmin in your peripheral vision, pretending to gag over how pathetic you look face to face with your crush. Subtly you flip him off and you can hear his infectious laugh as he walks out of the classroom, probably off to find Hyunjin.

“Hi Felix,” 

“So, when are you free to work on the project?” “Honestly whenever you’re free, I know practice must keep you busy captain,” At the title his cheeks flush involuntarily, scratching his cheek shyly. Oh what you wouldn’t give to kiss his beautiful freckled cheeks.

“Yeah well, Seungmin has been keeping us on our toes. He’s always been good at strategy and as captain he’s really proved himself. But besides practice I'm pretty free too. We have practice on Wednesdays and Fridays. So we could do the project this weekend? If you want of course, we could pick another day if you want,” 

“Nope, this weekend sounds perfect,”

“Great, wanna meet at the library at one?” 

You nod and he gives you a small smile before bidding you goodbye. And that’s how you end up with a study date with one Lee Felix. (Neither of you had said the word date but you could dream and live in your delusions for a while. At least before Seungmin pulls you back down from the clouds.) 

Saturday comes much faster than you expect and you take almost half the morning preparing yourself - perhaps taking a little extra time on your makeup and hair. Of course you make sure not to go too overboard, just accentuating your features a little more, wanting to impress the way too pretty Hufflepuff. 

Even though you show up to the library ten minutes early, you’re surprised to find Felix already there with a book open and taking notes. When he looks up to see you his expression brightens up significantly, waving you over quickly. He’s rendered you speechless with a simple look and you can feel those annoying butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“Sorry did I keep you waiting? I thought I was early,” You say as you take a seat next to him, pulling out your own notes and potion textbook.

“Oh no, don’t worry. I uh- got here early to get us a spot next to the restricted section,” Your head nods in understanding as you bite back a laugh, the library practically empty due to it being a Saturday. 

After some brief small talk, the two of you get into researching the potion, taking extensive notes on how to properly brew the concoction without causing your cauldron to explode. It was a tricky potion, requiring absolute perfection in order to work. 

Somehow during your silent period of individual research, Felix had managed to scoot as close to you as possible, thighs pressed together and you thought your heart might leap out of your chest. You can smell the hint of his floral cologne and the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck is overwhelming. 

The two of you stay like that for a while before you close your textbook, stretching out your arms and flexing your hands from writing too much. 

“Shall we check out the restricted section? I think i’ve read all that I can in our textbook,” 

“Yeah, same! This potion is gonna be a pain in the ass,”

“Tell me about it. I’m not exactly looking forward to actually brewing it,”

“Can’t be that bad, I’ll get to do it with you,” And there it is, those damn butterflies making another appearance. You flush before clearing your throat, moving towards the restricted section, having already gotten permission from your teacher and the librarian. Felix can’t help but find the blush on your cheeks beautiful.

The two of you moved to start to browse the new section, looking for specifics on the ingredients needed for the more intense potion that you would have to brew. Your eyes skim through the shelves, noting some of the more interesting books that you might have to take a closer look at later, specifically a fun book on jinxes that you could probably use against Seungmin who was always trying to create new spells to tease you with. And on the rare occasion the two of you would team up to bully Hyunjin instead, especially when he was bragging about acing a test he didn’t even bother studying for. It would have to wait for now as you spotted an old potioneering book that looked promising on the top shelf. Reaching for it, you cursed at how short you were - even standing on your tiptoes didn’t help as you extended your fingers as much as you could. 

Suddenly you can feel a firm chest pressed to your back and a hand resting on your hip, another hand coming to grab the book you were trying to get. Your heart thumps against your ribcage at the close proximity of Felix, trying not to think about how his body feels as its pressed flush against your back or the grip on your hips as he steadies you. Slowly you turn around in his grasp, blinking up at him as he practically has you up against the bookcase, caging you in. Felix is also looking at you, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face and the potion book in his hand.   It feels like you’ve been standing there forever, both of you just getting lost in each other's eyes and you wonder how many constellations you could draw against his freckles. The way you want to count just how many he has or if he had more in other places as well. Your eyes widen when the hand that was resting on your hip is suddenly moving up to cup your cheek and you wonder if he can see the way you flush under the dim lighting of the library. 

“Can I kiss you?” The deep timbre of his voice never fails to send shivers down your spine or heat into your stomach. You nod even though you really wanna say ‘hell yes’, you manage to hold back and not embarrass yourself, especially now when he’s asked something you’ve wanted to do since third year. 

His lips feel plush against your own, and you vaguely wonder if this was real. If Lee Felix was really here, kissing you sweet and softly like you were the most precious and delicate object in his hands. It’s a short simple kiss and you almost go to chase his lips when he pulls back, but you don’t have to worry as he doesn’t keep you waiting too long. He drops the book to be forgotten, as he brings his other hand to fully frame your face and kisses you square on the mouth. Your head tilts as he deepens the kiss, lips molding perfectly together. 

His tongue is swiping along the seam of your lips, asking for permission which you happily grant, tiers parting for him so he can lick at your own wet muscle. You can’t help the blissful sigh that falls from your lips and Felix all but eagerly swallows the noise, his pink tongue exploring every inch of you that he can. He has you fully pressed against the bookshelf now, your bodies slotted together, as if two puzzle pieces had been connected and you can start to feel something hard being pressed against your hips.

You can barely even focus on that with how dizzy the kiss is making you feel (though it’s possible it’s the lack of air as you’ve basically forgotten how to breathe). Teasingly you nip at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth and he all but lets out a deep groan that makes you wetter than you’d like to admit. Eventually you both part for air, the two of you practically panting, lips slick with each other. You’re licking at your swollen lips, still able to taste him on your tongue as a thought pops into your head. You move to place your hands on Felix’s hips, maneuvering him so you’re the one who has him pressed against the bookshelf. He tilts his head and looks at you inquisitively, and you can’t help but coo at how cute he looks, especially with slightly reddened cheeks and completely kiss bitten lips. 

It’s only when you move down to your knees does he understand what you’re doing, him scrambling to try to pull you back up but you don’t budge. 

“A-ah! W-wait. What are you do-” He falters as he watches you glance up at him through your lashes, sweet innocent eyes looking up at him. Just the sight of you like this, looking so pretty on your knees for him makes his dick twitch in his pants, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 

You place your hands on his thighs, running them up until your fingers are playing with the zipper of his trousers and he watches as your tongue darts out to dampen your already slick lips. “Is this ok?” You question simply, watching as Felix’s resolve crumbles, nodding his head. 

With permission you’re quick to undo his pants, only pulling them down to expose his already hard cock. His dick is somehow pretty, yet it doesn’t surprise you - everything about the boy was just so pretty. You lean in to press small teasing kisses to his length, keeping eye contact with the Hufflepuff. Felix doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, so entranced by you. As much as you’d love to tease him, to build him up until he was begging for you - the two of you weren’t exactly in a private space, so you’d have to do it another time (god you hoped there would be another time). You part your lips to take the head into your mouth and it has Felix gasping already, his head falling back against the bookcase and his hands finding purchase in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you suck softly, his natural musky scent was mixing with the floral cologne he had put on and it was all so heady, making you slightly lightheaded. 

He’s completely lost in the way your mouth feels against his hard length, warm and wet, and he’s scared to finish too fast like some virgin (even though that’s exactly what he was). Yet he can’t stop you, blunt nails grasping at your silky locks as you blow him, eliciting a moan from you that vibrates against his cock. His bottom lip is between his teeth in an attempt to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping. 

Except when you’ve got his whole cock down your throat, choking on it slightly has a deep moan slipping from his lips. He’s looking down at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown and hazy with lust, the sight of you with your mouth absolutely stuffed with his cock has him twitching in your mouth. You can taste his salty precum in the back of your throat, desperate to see what his release will taste like. 

“Ah…fuck. Princess you look so pretty like this…’m gonna cum,” He grunts softly and he can’t help the small buck of his hips into your mouth.

You definitely weren’t expecting the nickname, but you found yourself liking it MUCH more when it was coming from Felix. You open your mouth with your tongue lolling out when he tells you he’s close, blinking up at him and he gets the message. He releases your hair to bring his hand to his cock, stroking it once, twice - before he’s coming thick ropes into your mouth. You patiently wait for him to finish before you’re swallowing his load and you definitely don’t miss the way he groans just from watching you do that. A giggle falls from your lips as you come to stand up and he’s quick to kiss you again, moaning from tasting himself against your swollen tiers. 

He’s tucking himself back into his pants but not bothering to redo his pants before he’s once again moving you so he can press you against the bookshelf. It’s your turn to tilt your head in questioning as he moves to kneel down, hands running up your upper thighs until they’re disappearing under your skirt. He loops his fingers into your panties as he looks up at you.

“Can I?” He asks and his eyes are still dark with arousal, completely gone at this point. You nod far too eagerly and he chuckles deeply at how excited you look, slowly dragging your (damp) underwear down, having you step out of them. He slips them into his back pocket with a smirk. 

“You’re not getting these back,” 

Your mouth is wide with his bold words, wondering where the shy Felix has gone. You don’t really have much time to think more about it before he’s diving under your skirt and attaching his mouth to your wet cunt, a hand coming up to your mouth to muffle the sound that leaves your lips involuntarily. He laps at your core, moaning against you at your taste and the vibrations only aid in your pleasure. You can’t even see him with your skirt completely covering him but you can’t find it in you to even care, the way his tongue is flicking at your clit has you whimpering. His hands are gripping at your hips tightly and you hope that he leaves a mark, a memory of this moment you shared with him.

He has you all but clenching around nothing as his lips suck on your sensitive bud and your back is arching off the bookshelf and your head is thrown back. Soft moans spill from your lips and the sounds go straight to his dick, feeling himself hardening again in his pants. It doesn’t matter though as his focus is on you and he so badly wants you to cum against his tongue. Felix easily slips two fingers into your heat with how slick you are and you let out a soft sigh at the sensation. He’s a little clumsy with them but you’re too far gone to really care, feeling your thighs start to shake and that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach. 

“Lix- Lixie. I’m close,” You manage to mumble out, not knowing how much longer you are gonna last, especially with how his skillful tongue continues to work you to your high. With your words he’s once again latching onto your clit with his lips, sucking eagerly and his fingers pushing into you faster. He hums against your core and you’re gone, your rather loud moan muffled by your hand as you’re coming against his face. Felix doesn’t stop lapping at your pussy until you have to push him away, feeling sensitivity starting to build. 

When he comes back up he has to hold you up, your legs shaking slightly in the aftermath of your orgasm. He’s quick to have his lips on yours again and you can taste yourself against his tongue. He can tell he’s going to quickly become absolutely addicted to kissing you, your lips so soft against his own. Felix is pressing against you and you can feel that he’s hard again, so you reluctantly pull away to call out to him. 

“Felix,” You start, suddenly feeling shy even though you literally just had his dick in your mouth. 

“Yes love?” It really feels like he’s trying to kill you with these nicknames but you push through, letting your hips rock against his and he’s biting at his lip hard to stop himself from moaning. 

“I want you. So bad. . .need you inside me,” 

He seems a little hesitant but he can’t deny the way his dick twitches just at the thought of being buried inside you. How warm and tight you’d feel against his length.

“Are- Are you sure?” You nod. You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.

“Yes. I-If it’s okay with you,” Still you stress this point, not wanting to pressure him but you’d be lying if you weren’t still absolutely soaked for the boy in front of you. 

“How can I say no to you?” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before slowly turning you around to have you bent forward slightly. You grab onto the bookshelf to ground yourself, biting at your bottom lip as you feel him grinding his clothed cock against your core. You’re about to open your mouth to beg him to stop teasing you but then you feel his tip pressing against your entrance and all thoughts are flying out of your head. Felix is gripping you tightly by the waist and slowly, almost agonizingly slowly he pushes in. You can feel every single inch until he’s completely sheathed in your warmth and the groan he lets out fills your belly with straight heat.

“F-fuck. So good, you feel so good princess,” He groans, his breath heavy as he shakily pulls out just enough so he can easily slide back in, setting a slightly uneven pace but it feels so good that you don’t even care. All you can think about is Felix, the way his hands feel against your skin, how sweet he sounds as he murmurs praises against your ear, the way his cock fills you so nicely - your head is so blissfully empty besides the Hufflepuff and you love it. He angles himself upwards, finding your sweet spot so easily and you clench around him the moment he hits it.

His hips rock languidly into you as he flips your skirt up so he can see the way his cock disappears into your soaked cunt. Felix is so entranced at the way your arousal clings to his length, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping down your thighs and it makes it so much easier to thrust into you. He knows he’s not gonna last very long so he grabs you to pull you flush against his chest, holding you to him as a hand wraps to your front, two fingers rubbing at your clit.

“Lix! Oh- Oh…’m close,” You mumble out, gasping as he holds you against his body, your hips trying to meet his thrusts. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum princess? Need you to cum all over my cock. Can you do that love?” He hums into your ear and his voice has you absolutely gone, Felix purposely making it just a little bit deeper. The way his cock is pressing against your gummy g-spot has you seeing stars. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re shuddering and coming, your walls spasming around Felix which has him reaching his own orgasm - spilling into you with his warm seed. Both of you are panting hard with you holding onto the bookshelf as if it was your last lifeline, practically the only thing keeping you up with how shaky your knees are. 

When he pulls out you whine a little, feeling his cum leaking down your thighs. He watches for a second, seeing his own release dripping from your pussy has a surge of pride filling his chest. After a second he pulls out his wand, muttering a quick spell that cleans you up, thankful that charms had been his best class. You need a bit longer to collect yourself, your head slightly fuzzy from two orgasms. 

Felix is busy looking you over, making sure your uniform is neat and smoothing your hair down. It’s all sweet and lowkey domestic, making your heart swell at the Hufflepuff in front of you. He smiles that smile you love and it baffles you how this boy could go from fucking you in the restricted section of the library to this innocent looking sunshine. 

He’s coming to cup your face again, leaving a few kisses against your cheeks before kissing your lips.

“So like…I know this is backwards but uh- do you like? Maybe wanna go on a date sometime? And be my girlfriend?”

[firestorm09890]

there's a part of canto vi I've been thinking about since it came out, and it doesn't actually have anything to do with Heathcliff.

this

She is bitter as fuck and as time goes on she's getting worse at keeping it down. Sinclair's the one who started it, by talking about how sad it is that they'd never get to see color, and Rodya starts to get a little irritated over it (yeah, sure, pity the Backstreets folk and their poor miserable little lives, privileged nest boy), but she's obviously trying not to straight up call Sinclair a privileged nest boy because she doesn't want to. But then Yi Sang and Ishmael join in on talking about how sad this place is with no color and she just can't keep her opinion down.

But that makes the atmosphere tense, and she hates a tense atmosphere, so she changes the subject and her tone, not giving a damn about how obvious it is. also, haha, ice and cold references.

And actually, this doesn't really have much evidence to support it, but I wonder if she holds a higher level of resentment for Sinclair in particular.

Canto II had some discussion about how Rodya wishes she was special (and while I think what Sonya said about her killing the tax collector just to feel special is absolute bullshit, I do also think there is some truth to her wanting to feel special), and introduced us to the concept of The Sign in a way that was vague and more like foreshadowing than actually introducing it. Then Canto III was all about The Sign, and how special Sinclair is, and since then we've had people talking about signs and stars and a new birth of the world and it's all stuff Rodya doesn't get to be part of.

I don't think she wants to hold resentment for Sinclair, and she especially never wants him to know, but going back after all this time and rereading this one interaction with him in Canto II felt pretty jarring.

the more important part of this is the way it feels like she's making a joke at Heathcliff's expense, for being poor, like even though she's also from the Backstreets she feels she's "above" it.

She absolutely does not feel this way.

On my way to find the first passage, I reread some other interesting stuff:

Once again, there's the harsh juxtaposition between casual, fun-loving Rodya, and tired, poor man's advocate Rodya. Almost everyone on the team speaks through the lens of a Nest dweller (I have to wonder if learning that Heathcliff was apparently raised in a mansion made her even more bitter), and the way she's so short with her mention of the Sweepers makes me think she's thinking about how painfully obvious it would have been to any other Backstreets dweller. And then, right after, dropping back into her casual voice, and Sinclair revealing that Rodya used the fucked up Backstreets creature to tease him...

Other obvious moments of Rodya being bitter as hell about rich people include this part of S.E.A.

and this part of her observation logs on Spiral of Contempt (actually, nearly everything in that log that isn't about the physical abnormality has to do with how much she hates how rich people look down upon the poor)

Hong Lu's canto comes after Don's, and then after his is Ryōshū's, who, based on her source material, probably served one of the most awful, contemptuous rich people the sinners have access to, and I really hope at some point here Rodya gets to snap in a big way

...hey so I wrote this entire post at 1 in the morning and then saved it to drafts because I didn't want to post something at 1 in the morning. the Timekilling Time trailer came out about two hours later, featuring both Rodya... and the long-awaited return of the Yurodiviye. so now it's past 3 in the morning for me but I'm posting it now anyway because ohohoho seeing the Yurodiviye again has given me SO much energy

I have a feeling all this is going to be very relevant extremely soon

[baptismbaby]

♡ HEARTBEAT

toxic! ellie x toxic! reader (modern) warnings: degrading, breathplay, hitting, bruising, strap usage (r!receiving), player!ellie, petnames based on heartbeat by childish gambino wc: 2.9k<3

You and Ellie had the worst breakup in Jackson. You two were dating for years and were constantly arguing, taking breaks and making up again. The cycle frustrated everyone who hung around you two. You would tell your friends you were single “for real this time,” while Ellie kept her distance waiting for you to knock at her door. Usually you would but if you didn’t, Ellie would sneak into your house and you’d walk in your room to find her sitting on your bed. She’d promise she wouldn’t hurt you again, wouldn’t cheat on you again, and you’d fall into her arms with tears and forgive her. Things would be fine for a week until she’d fuck up again. 

At some point, you decided you really wanted to move on. You had gone to her place and told her to never talk to you again. She thought you were fibbing and showed up to your house while you were sleeping, waking you up to say sorry. When you threatened to shoot her in the leg if she wouldn’t leave, she stormed out and broke the picture frame you had of the two of you on the ground. You blocked her on everything and avoided the places you knew she’d go.

That was a year ago. Of course, you’d spot her somewhere but you would quickly leave to make sure she didn’t see you. What you didn’t know was that she would. She even made new social media accounts to keep up with what you posted. Four months ago, you got into a relationship with a girl named Eliana. Ellie thought it was hilarious, you dating a girl with a similar name as her. You’d post about how sweet she was and Ellie would get angry. She had half a mind to send Eliana a video of her fucking you from behind and claiming it was recent just so you’d come by, yell at her but hopefully give in to her convincing you to be with her.

Ellie would hook up with a new girl almost every night but hated it. They just weren’t you. At some point, she’d let a girl named Sofie come by whenever she wanted. She looked similar to you so it was easy for Ellie to pretend it was you. Although there were similarities, she didn’t even compare to you. She was awful. She didn’t get as wet as you would, which Ellie missed. She was also extremely vanilla. It didn’t bother Ellie that much but it bored her. She gave Sofie a key to come by whenever she wanted to get fucked but Ellie always had to reach out first. It wasn’t often but enough for Sofie to assume they were dating. Ask Ellie and she would say otherwise.

About two months in your relationship with Eliana, you had sex with her for the first time and was disappointed. She wasn’t good at it. You were trying to be patient with her, telling her how to touch you and how to use  a strap but she just wasn’t catching on. She started to get more pissy with you and grew distant. You couldn’t stop thinking about Ellie. You missed her terribly. You’d take the arguments with Ellie over Eliana anyday, at least it would end in hot, angry, makeup sex. You refused to let Eliana touch you. She was getting annoying, always bitching in your ear about shit so miniscule that you couldn’t help but to laugh at her every time she tried to belittle you. You wanted to reach out to Ellie but didn’t know how. You unblocked her on everything instead and hoped you’d receive a text from her.

A month later, you were no longer posting about Eliana and Ellie had taken back the key from Sofie. Ellie noticed your lack of posts. Eliana would post stupid heartbreak poems and dumb shit like “if she wanted to, she would.” Ellie decided to try texting you. It was stupid, she believed you definitely still had her blocked. She sent you a simple “hey,” expecting it to go green. It was blue and said delivered which made Ellie immediately chuck her phone away from her. You responded a couple minutes later, “I was waiting for you to message me.”

You started texting Ellie behind Eliana’s back, talking about how Eliana was tedious and mean. Ellie would sympathize with you, telling you all the right things that made your love for her grow. A couple weeks ago, you got into a fight with Eliana. She brought up a touchy subject with you, something you felt comfortable enough to share that only Ellie knew besides her. You made her leave and called Ellie, crying. She came over to comfort you until it led into a makeout session, then she fucked you for hours. She wanted to overstimulate you to make up for lost time, she wanted to break you, she wanted to make sure you’d come crawling back to her. She would also get real gentle and sweet with you, to remind you how much she loved you without having to say it. But something about you feeling unsure about leaving Eliana for her woke something up in her. The idea of coming around when Eliana wasn’t there to get a taste of you boosted her ego. It was sneaky and gave the both of you an adrenaline rush, the idea of being caught turned the both of you on. 

So you two kept seeing each other. When Eliana would leave, you’d call Ellie and ask her to come over. Or you would leave Eliana’s place and go straight to Ellie’s. Tonight was another night of arguing between you and Eliana. You couldn’t wait for her to leave so you could call Ellie and complain about everything she said. You knew Ellie would come over in a heartbeat.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” you spat out. Eliana groaned and reached down to grab her bag. “Yeah, that’s right. Run away from me. That's all you know. Run from all your problems and refuse to take responsibility!”

“Fuck you!” she screamed. “How about you go crawl back to that stupid bitch Ellie. I can’t put up with this bullshit anymore. She can deal with you now.”

“You know what? I just might. At least she knows how to fuck me and make me cum!” you hollered.

Eliana left, slamming the door hard. You scoffed and headed into your room, grabbing your phone off the dresser. You dialed Ellie’s number and held it up to your ear. After a ring and a half, she answered.

“Need me to come over?” she asked. You could hear the smile in her voice.

“I’m so fucking done!” you griped. “I’m over it, Ellie! Over it!”

“Wait, with me?”

“No, with Eliana. She just left,” you said. 

“I’m coming,” Ellie hung up before you could respond.

Ellie shoved her phone in her pocket and looked over at Sofie, who stared down at her twiddling thumbs. “I gotta go, my friend needs me. You should probably go so I can get ready.”

Sofie looked up at her with watering eyes. 

“Sorry, she comes first. She’s been through a lot and-”

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Sofie interrupted. 

Ellie stayed silent, scratching her head and scrunching her nose.

Sofie got up from the couch and turned towards Ellie, placing her hands on her hips. “I should’ve known. You’ll never be over her.”

“Okay, Sofie. I don’t see why you’re bothered about it.”

“Cause we’re dating?”

Ellie chuckled which made Sofie angry. “We are not dating. I fucked you a couple times and that’s it.”

“But you gave me a key to your place?”

“Yeah, to come by whenever you wanted to fuck. I took it back because I don’t want to fuck you anymore. You never used it, anyway,” said Ellie. She was getting frustrated. She wanted to get ready and get to you as soon as possible. “I only let you come by because you said you wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, about us!” Sofie snapped.

“There is no us. There never was. I was clear from the beginning that this was short-term. You were someone to have fun with for a bit. It was alright but it’s done.”

Sofie stormed out, yelling something about how Ellie was a horrible person who used her. Ellie shrugged it off and sent you a quick text. “Getting dressed. I’ll be there soon, sweetheart.”

-

Ellie arrived at your place fifteen minutes later. Instead of knocking, she walked through the door and right into your room. You were already half naked in your bed, wearing a see through tank top and a thong. Ellie smirked, kicking her shoes off and removing her jeans and hoodie. Ellie already had her strap on over her boxers. Your cunt ached, desperate for Ellie’s touch.

“Needy little girl,” she teased, crawling over your trembling body. “I haven’t laid a hand on you yet and you’re already shaking.”

“You don’t know how badly I need this, Ellie.”

“What, your little bitch can’t fuck you good?” she asked in a condescending tone.

“No, Ellie. No one can,” you breathed.

Ellie brushed her fingers down your body, eliciting a moan from your lips. “My little angel, I love that you miss me when I’m gone.”

Her hands reached your panties. You thought she was gonna push them aside but instead she gripped them and tore it off, throwing the ripped fabric off to the side. You groaned, feeling your pussy throb even more. You loved when Ellie was like this. You’ve had to throw away so many panties and tights because of her. You didn’t mind though, she always got you more.

Ellie pressed the tip to your entrance. “Beg for it,” she demanded.

“Please put it in, Ellie!”

“More.”

“I want you inside me! Please,” you whined, bucking your hips forward to try to sink yourself onto her strap. She shoved your waist down and slapped you across the face, watching in awe as you yelped and held your cheek to dull the pain. 

“Don’t fucking pull that again, little whore. I decide if you deserve my cock or not. Are you too stupid to get that? Huh?”

“Y-Yes, Ellie. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Good girl. C’mon, keep begging me to fuck you,” she growled.

“I need your cock inside me, please! I want you to fucking ruin me.”

“Yeah, you wanna be my braindead little slut don’t you?” she taunted. “You don’t wanna think about anything but my cock stretching your tight cunt.”

You sighed, struggling to keep still as her hands went all over you. She shoved your shirt above your tits and grabbed them. 

“Fuck me Ellie, please! I can’t take it, I need to feel you. Please,” you cried.

Ellie smirked and put her cock back to your hole, slamming it inside of you. You screamed out, gripping the sheets underneath you. Ellie wrapped her hand around your throat and squeezed tightly as she thrusted into you hard and fast. It was hard to keep your eyes open to watch Ellie. All you could manage to do was squeal in pleasure. You started to get dizzy from the lack of oxygen in your brain. Ellie noticed and took her hand away, caressing your cheek then slapping it.

“You like that, huh? Yeah?”

You couldn’t speak, unable to focus on anything besides the feeling of Ellie’s cock fucking you deeper. 

“Aww, poor pup can’t talk,” she mocked.

She placed her thumb in your mouth and you opened it to suck it. Ellie moaned as you gently bit her. She pulled away and leaned towards you, her breath fanning over your face as she felt herself getting closer from the friction. “You’re mine, all mine,” she whispered. “You belong to me. You’re my pet, my fucktoy to play with. No one fucks you as good as me. Say it!”

“I’m yours,” you whimpered. You could feel your pussy tighten around Ellie’s strap. “I-I belong to you. I’m your… I’m your pet, your f-fucktoy to play with. You can u-use me anytime, anyw-where you want. Oh, fuck, I’m about to cum. P-Please can I cum, Ellie?”

Ellie nodded, giving you the permission to let your orgasm take over you. As your body shook, you absentmindedly cried out that you loved her. Ellie felt a warmth go over her entire body in adoration. 

“That’s it, baby,” she cooed, fucking you through your orgasm. She was close too, all it took was you calling out her name once again and she finished. Ellie collapsed next to you, the both of you breathing heavily and giggling.

“God, I love fucking you,” spoke Ellie.

“I love when you fuck me.”

Ellie glanced over at you, admiring your glazed eyes and red puffy lips. She noticed your cheek was starting to form a bruise. “Shit, I didn’t mean to hit so hard.”

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I don’t mind.”

“It’s gonna be a nasty bruise.”

“It’s from you. It’s okay.”

Ellie relaxed at your assurance and let out a sigh. “Seriously, I wanna know what you ever saw in Eliana. She sounds like such a bitch. I mean, bringing up… y’know? I’d never do that to you. I know I’m not the best but I couldn’t say that to you. I think I’d die if I did that.”

“I saw nothing in her,” you said honestly. “I mean, she was cool at first, I guess. She really was kind. Boring but that’s just because we had nothing in common. I wanted to move on from you. She was a rebound, that’s it.”

“Then why deal with her when you could’ve been with me this entire time?” asked Ellie.

You grinned. “It’s fun, isn’t it? Sneaking around, texting each other behind her back. I hate cheaters but… really, she deserved it. She is not a good person.”

Ellie’s heart stung at the mention of cheaters, suddenly remembering the drunken nights when she’d make out with a random girl at a party or let one grind on her thigh while dancing to make you jealous. She reached over and grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours.

“I know I always apologize then do the same shit over again. But I swear to you, baby, I’ll never do it again. None of it. Without you, my life was a living hell. I would hook up with different girls but it meant nothing to me. They weren’t you. I only want to be with you. When I lost you… I knew I had really fucked up. I feel like I’ve been given a second chance. Or, well, you’ve given me lots of those but a real one.”

Something told you that Ellie was being genuine. Before, you knew she was lying just to get you to stay but didn’t mind it. You couldn’t live without her. You tried and you were an empty shell. You shouldn’t have gotten into another relationship. You should’ve gone back to Ellie months ago. 

“I believe you, Ellie,” you finally vocalized. “I need you, really.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Ellie played with your fingers. “You know what’s funny?” you said.

“What?”

“Before I called you, Eliana told me she didn’t want to deal with me anymore and to crawl back to you.”

Ellie opened her mouth to say something but your phone rang. You picked it up to see Eliana’s name across the screen. You groaned, flipping it over to show Ellie. She laughed and grabbed it. “Let me answer!”

“No!” you tried to snatch it away but Ellie held it above you.

“Come on, it’ll be funny,” Ellie begged. “I’ll put it on speaker so you can hear.”

Before you could decline, Ellie answered. You tried to slap her arm but she grabbed your wrist and gave you a look before smiling. “What do you want?” she questioned. 

“Wait, who is this?” Eliana asked.

“It’s me, Ellie.”

“What?”

“Eliana, listen: she took your advice and came ‘crawling’ back to me. You don’t gotta worry about her anymore. She’s in good hands.”

“What the fuck?”

Ellie muted the phone so the two of you could cackle. Whatever Eliana said, neither of you could hear it. Ellie shushed you and unmuted it. “You fucking bitch!” Eliana screamed before Ellie could talk.

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

“Can’t believe you fucking cheated on me with Ellie,” she continued, rambling to herself at this point. 

“She was mine first. She always belonged to me. If you know what’s best for you, you won’t be trying to reach her again. You don’t even wanna know what I’ll do to you if you try it,” Ellie threatened. “I suggest you lose her number. Don’t get stupid and try coming over here.”

Ellie hung up the phone and went to your contacts to delete and block Eliana’s number. She set it on the dresser next to her and turned back to you. “There,” she said proudly. “You don’t have to worry about her no more. You’re my girl.”

“She… definitely deserved that,” you chuckled.

“I kinda wanna fuck you again,” said Ellie, changing the subject.

You bit your lip and swung your leg over Ellie so you were straddling her. You leaned down and kissed her softly. “You know I can’t say no to that.”

[literaila]

a bit loud

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you and satoru take the kids to the fair

warnings: satoru is overstimulated (argue with the wall), and fluff

last part | next part

*

year two.

satoru doesn’t really like crowds. 

this is nothing new. when he was a kid, it was usually just him. a teacher or two, a nursemaid to make sure he didn't run away or break anything. 

he grew used to being the most important thing, the only important person in a twenty-mile vicinity. 

he got used to being alone. 

and now, satoru enjoys going out and buying things, but only on weekdays, early in the morning or late at night—when it’s empty enough to see just the barest of things and pay complete attention to what he’s doing. 

he likes going out with you—and the children, when they’re behaving—but only when his sole worry is about one of you wandering off. 

he doesn’t enjoy watching over all of you. thinking about all of the people around you, seeing them, and wondering if he needs to step in the way. 

he hates it when he runs into person after person, trying still to be polite—like you beg him to—not wanting to say that it’s all too much. that he could go insane with just the pure force of all of those people. their involuntary attacks. 

it's just loud with so many people. even with his brain actively repairing itself at any given moment, it’s an overwhelming feeling—to see

everything that’s going on around him. to know exactly how everyone's feeling at every second, and try to defend himself--and all of you--from them.

he recalls something someone said once about strength having drawbacks… 

but, today, he thinks, today he’ll deal with it. 

it's safe to say that satoru isn't used to this many people in one place--standing in line for everything or maneuvering his way through a crowd. 

but it's fine. 

especially when you’ve got that grin on your face—that half-serious, half-delirious look. the kind of look that would be enough to rip his heart out, if he'd let it. 

satoru doesn’t get to see that very often, anymore. 

and even before it was only in the middle of the night. when he would drag you around when you were both supposed to be sleeping, sneaking off campus and getting you into trouble. when the two of you would giggle breathlessly in the dark, completely alone, pretending to be just kids. 

when he might imagine a future that wasn't just jujutsu, but something more. 

that look on your face might be his favorite thing. 

“what should we do first?” you ask tsumiki—who is looking in awe at all of the bright colors and flashing lights—and megumi, who’s trying to pretend like he’s not clinging to your side. 

every couple of seconds the four of you move to the side, trying to avoid all of the other people.

satoru is particular about the way he leads all of you, trying not to wince every time someone shouts something. he ducks around one person and steps to the side for another. 

you don't seem to mind, so satoru pretends he doesn't. 

“ferris wheel!” tsumiki says, looking up above her. it's in front of all of you, much bigger than satoru expected from pictures. how a giant circle that spins round and round is fun, he's not sure. 

he frowns. “can’t we get something to eat? i think they have taiyaki.” 

“i wasn’t asking you,” you tell satoru, rolling your eyes like you’ve been doing since he made fun of you for jumping out of the car. 

it really was cute, though. 

he leans his chin on your shoulder easily, walking alongside you. tsumiki’s hand is in one of his, and megumi is basically attached to your leg, hands curled around your pants. “good thing i answered anyway.” 

cue another eye roll and you looking to megumi. “you okay with the ferris wheel?” 

“yeah,” he mutters, frowning when someone else brushes against him. 

but even satoru saw the way he lit up at the first sight of the fair, all of the rides and games. even though he might act like a single, depressed, middle-aged man—he’s just a boy. 

and satoru imagines this is supposed to be fun. if he was seven he would've run away already, trying to hide from whoever was supposed to watch him that day. he probably would've gotten lost and then stolen some candy from one of the many different stands. 

but he would've liked it, he's sure. even if it is loud. 

satoru grins, looking at the boy. “are you sure?” he teases. “not going to get scared?” 

megumi glares. “why would i be scared?” 

“satoru, don’t be mean.” 

“what?” he asks you, ignoring the way you and megumi share a look. “i’m just asking. you know how he gets around heights.” 

“im not five,” megumi tells him, scoffing. 

satoru tries not to snort. 

“leave him alone," you say, shaking your head at him, though satoru watches you refrain a smile. "i can sit with him if he doesn’t want to go. okay, megs?” 

tsumiki pouts at that idea, though satoru knows she won’t argue. and neither will you, even though satoru's pretty sure that you're dying to be on that spinning thing. 

megumi, obviously noticing this, bucks his chin. “no. i’ll go.” 

“ooo, bravery,” satoru sidesteps your push, “that’s a good lesson for you.” 

“don't tease him."

“are you scared?” megumi asks. 

satoru laughs. “please.” 

you grin, setting your free hand on his shoulder--an attack on his skin disguised as a comforting gesture--looking at him with a mock pout. “aw, satoru. it’s okay. if you want to stay behind, i’m sure megumi wouldn’t mind waiting with you…” 

megumi smirks. “yeah. i’ll wait.” 

tsumiki looks up at him with wide eyes. “it’s okay to be afraid, gojo. we don’t have to go.” 

he knocks your arm away and lets go of tsumiki’s hand—though making sure to search around him at all times for her presence, like he’s learned to do (he's lost them far too many times in the house to do anything different). he crosses his arms. “you guys are so uncivilized.” 

you all laugh, but that's the end of the discussion. 

ferris wheel it is. 

while you're waiting in line you tell satoru that it's prettier at night, when you get to the top and can look down at all of the lights. satoru nods along, feeling grateful that it's not night and he doesn't have to experience that. but he grins at you all the while, pretending to be interested in whatever memories you tell him about. 

he'd listen to you talk about the components of dirt, probably (while complaining the entire time, of course).

and megumi is forced to sit next to satoru when you all get on the ride, you laughing at something he says next to tsumiki, the two of you watching as the ride begins to go up. 

satoru pretends not to notice the way megumi moves closer to him as they get higher and higher. the way he leans into his side, closer than he'd usually get.

and he pretends not to notice all of the people. 

it’ll be fine, he’s sure. it's not that bad, anyway. it’s only one day.

* 

you’re pouting when he steps up to the bar, handing the attendant a ticket that he purchased for way too much money. 

satoru stands behind you and watches you fail miserably at the ring toss four times before he steps in. honestly, it was a bit sad. 

“it’s okay,” satoru tells you, wanting to squeeze your precious face. “i’ll get you the teddy bear.” 

you cross your arms. “it’s not for me, it’s for the kids.” 

“well, i’ll win them it.” 

you frown even deeper, looking away from him. 

tsumiki and megumi are leaning over the railing behind you, both of them watching eagerly. though, tsumiki gives satoru a “good luck!” and megumi only stares. 

whatever. when he wins the boy his own bear—probably the one with the hearts all over it, just to mess with him—he’ll get a smile. 

or megumi will side with you like always and throw away his bear in the nearest trash can. satoru doesn't really care, as long as he gets to laugh in your face after he wins. 

satoru throws his first ring—which obviously goes directly on the bottle—and you mutter something like “show off," behind him. 

he smirks at you and throws another. 

after five rings, satoru naturally not missing one, you’re almost slack-jawed.

and then he does it again (because he can’t get one bear for both children) and you’re furious. 

“how did you do that?” you demand, as the attendant hands satoru both the bears—a pink, glittery one that satoru will probably steal for tsumiki. “these games are supposed to be rigged.” 

“then why are we playing them?” satoru asks, still grinning as he hands both of the kids the bears he’s just won them. his eyes don't leave yours for a moment. 

tsumiki squeals, happily, naming her bear clementine and patting its head. megumi only stares at his. 

“because—“ you say, pausing. your face is scrunched up. “well, i thought i could win.” 

“what did we learn today, children?” satoru asks, rhetorically. 

“that you’re a show-off,” you say, without hesitation. 

“and you’re a sore loser.” 

you scoff. “okay, satoru. we’ll see who’s talking the next time you lose at go fish.” 

“you guys were cheating.” 

“were not,” megumi says, frowning at both of you. tsumiki is too wrapped up in her new prize to pay any attention. 

“were too.” 

“please go find a new family,” you deadpan to satoru, looking around. “oh, look, there’s a couple of birds by that game. perfect for you.” 

“if i’m living with any woodland creature,” he tells you, “it’s the squirrels. they are a proper society.” 

“‘woodland creature?’” you mock, shaking your head. “did you hit your head on your ego by accident?”  

satoru only grins at that, and the way you look back at the ring toss, still frowning. 

your attitude today is very interesting to him. 

you might as well be one of the kids, floating around the fair, wanting to try everything. he’s watched you refrain yourself from bouncing on your heels several times already. 

it’s… nice, satoru thinks. you’re always so pretty, but especially with your dazed grin on. especially standing in the sun, eyes darting from place to place. 

your entire presence is a blow to his core. a direct attack on his heart and his fragile stability. 

especially when you’re trying to rile up tsumiki and megumi, double-checking to make sure that they’re having as much fun as you. shoving them into game after game and practically forcing them to have fun. 

satoru hasn't seen you like this ever. and he's also never been to the fair, so it's a strange day. 

and when the four of you begin to walk around again, you don’t push satoru away, not to glare at him, or ask him what game to play next. you just idle beside him, eyes sparkling in the light. 

and he ignores it when megumi asks if you can really find him a new family or not. 

* 

satoru and tsumiki are looking for you and megumi—even though you’re well over sixty feet in the air. 

“is that them?” tsumiki asks, pointing at a blob in the sky. 

satoru looks up, wincing at the sun, seeing nothing but specks in the air. and clouds. it's a nice day outside, not too warm, not too cold. 

and satoru might be going a bit delusional. he's been outside for two hours, which is an hour longer than he prefers. 

“yeah, i think i see megumi’s frown. huh.” 

ten minutes ago, you left the two of them there to go on the rollercoaster, after several minutes of debate about what you should do. 

tsumiki, like satoru, didn't love the idea of being whipped around in the air at a million miles per hour. not that satoru was scared--of course not--it's just that his hair is so delicate, and he'd have to take his glasses off. 

tsumiki, though, was scared, and you'd tried to move all of them along but satoru could tell how badly you wanted to go, and megumi kept looking up in interest, so he'd told you they would wait here. 

there were several minutes of you making sure that they were going to be okay without you. 

he obviously pushed you away and smiled as you walked away with megumi, a hand on his back as you rushed to get in line. 

“do you think he’s scared?” tsumiki asks him, smiling happily, her legs swinging in the air. 

“nah," satoru is sitting too close, definitely, but tsumiki doesn't seem to mind. her bangs blow a little with the wind and she pushes them out of her eyes. "probably just sitting there bored.” satoru does his best impression of megumi at any moment, crossing his arms and slouching down with a frown. 

tsumiki giggles, imitating him (and megumi). “how long will it take?” 

if satoru didn't know any better, he would say that she already misses you. even though you're not really that far away--just a hundred feet above them. if satoru was anybody else, he would realize that he already misses you too. 

but he doesn't. he's good here, with all of the other people in the world. you're basically just a coworker to him (not). 

he shrugs. “i don’t know. i’ve never been on a rollercoaster.” 

“me either.” 

he gives her a knowing look. “i don’t think we’re missing out on much.” 

“megumi wanted to go," tsumiki says, like it makes a difference. 

“megumi didn't argue when y/n wanted to go,” he corrects. because he doubts that the boy would've ever suggested it, had you not been there. “she likes stuff like that.” 

tsumiki makes a face and satoru pinches her cheek. it leaves a red mark--that you'll surely comment on when you come back--and tsumiki scrunches her nose at him. 

the two of them are almost alone in the crowd. sitting there together, both of them waiting for their other half. satoru really doesn't mind it, though, sitting with tsumiki. 

she's a pleasant distraction from everyone else. and her happiness seems to leak into him, like a drug. 

she reminds him of you in the best of ways. the secret specks of life he wouldn't be able to see in any other place. the same genuineness and consideration. 

“have you been here before?” she asks, after a moment, tilting her head curiously as she looks up at him with big brown eyes.

“nope,” satoru looks around, adjusting his glasses. “i had better things to do when i was your age.” 

“like what?” 

“uh…" satoru doesn't even remember. "eat cereal?” 

she giggles. 

“i don’t know," he grins at her, "i lived in a big house and we didn’t leave much.” 

“we live in a big house.” 

“bigger.” 

her eyes widen. “really?” 

“yup. but our house is better.” 

it's true enough, he thinks. it's less lonely with both of the kids around and you stopping by almost every day. more comforting. satoru doesn't feel like he's being pushed into anything when he gets home every day. 

he nudges tsumiki, tickling her side a bit. 

she giggles again, nodding. “the house megumi and i lived in before was smaller. we shared a room.” 

satoru nods. he's been there, he thinks. he's seen the mess, the space, and all of the time it took to wreck it all. 

well, if he's terrible at taking care of the kids, at least he can give them more than that. a house with two people to watch over them. dinner every night.

“i liked it, but i think megumi likes his own.” she tells him, “i like my room, too, though. especially with the poster you got me. and the pink sheets.” 

“yeah, i have excellent taste.” 

she smiles at him--because she's the nicest of all of you. then looks back into the sky. he looks up too, but he can't make you or megumi out any more than before. “how much longer?” 

“i don’t know…” satoru looks down, back to all of the noise surrounding him. “wanna get some wata-ame?” 

tsumiki’s eyes widen excitedly, and she nods.

satoru smiles at her mischievously, knowing that this is their only opportunity. 

(if you were there, you would kick him for trying to make her more hyper than she already is). 

“okay, let’s hurry before they’re done.” 

and neither of them really mind sitting back and watching. satoru basks at her little hand in his, and the smile she wears when you and megumi finally return. 

yeah, satoru doesn't have to think about it. he doesn't even need to try one out; he knows that this was better than any rollercoaster. 

* 

it's gotten a little bit louder, as the day goes on. just like satoru knew it would. 

he tries to distract himself with your smile, with megumi's annoyance any time he says anything to the boy, or tsumiki's wide eyes taking in every new attraction. and it works, for the most part. 

but there's that tapping on his eyes, like a signal that he needs to back away. every time someone walks too close, it gets a little bit harder. 

not that he'll say anything though. he can't ruin your fun with his eyes. 

now you and satoru are sitting on a bench, watching both megumi and tsumiki go by on the carousel. you wave at them every time, but satoru is looking up towards the sky, trying to ignore the poking at his eyes. 

“hey,” you nudge him after he's spent a minute like that. “you okay?” 

“hmm?” 

you wait until satoru looks at you, gesturing your chin towards him. “do you have a headache?” 

satoru stares at you, brows furrowing. you're not supposed to know anything, he thinks. he's kept this secret very close to his heart. 

(if you ignore the wincing and frown he has every time someone wins a prize around him). 

you laugh, maybe because he's withering. “we can go,” you tell him, a little too seriously. “i know this isn’t—“ 

satoru shakes his head immediately. “no. i’m fine.” 

“if you’re getting overwhelmed…” 

“i’m not. it’s okay,” he grins at you, trying not to feel all that affected by your concern. the last person to notice anything like his headaches, or silence was suguru. or, the only other person. “i just need a snack.” 

“you just had a snack.” 

“well, i need another one.” 

you roll your eyes, looking back to the kids, tsumiki going around with her mouth open wide in excitement. “fine. after this, we can find something.” 

satoru smiles pleased and rests his head on your shoulder. like a kitten. this lasts for a second before he wraps his arms around you, making sure that you have no possible escape. 

your heart is only so loud, but if he tilts his head enough, he can hear it pounding. it's soft, a gentle distraction from the rest of it.

you glance down at him and then away. “are you having fun?” 

“loads.” 

you poke his side. “satoru.” 

“what? it’s true!” 

“you’re such a liar,” you say, leaning away from his embrace. 

but satoru’s not going to allow that, so he adjusts his old, moving you so your legs are pressed directly against his. he ignores how warm you are, how soft. 

but it's pleasant, like this. a bit of reprieve for his head, and an excuse to keep you close. satoru would've spent the whole day clinging to you if he didn't know it would raise suspicions. if he didn't know that you would look at him weirdly and megumi would make some outrageous comment about him--

“i like it,” he says, “it’s exciting.” 

you don’t say anything. 

“c’mon, don’t pout. you’re supposed to be happy. having fun,” he whispers, just like you've been saying to the kids all day. 

you lean against him, eyes following the flashing lights. “i didn’t really think about how… much it is,” you bite your lip, “i’m sorry. we should've picked something else. something easier.” 

“no, really,” satoru looks up at you, and your cautious eyes. you've got that furrow in your brows--the same one you get when tsumiki is frowning or megumi says something a bit morose. and, really, he would take this more seriously if you didn't look so cute. “it’s fine. you think i haven't had a headache before?" he asks, shaking his head. "this is nothing. plus, the kids are having fun."

you raise a brow at him. “megumi?” 

“i mean… as much fun as he can have.” 

“he’s going to lock himself in his room for the next six days. i won’t get to see him at all.” 

“he’ll come out for dinner,” satoru reassures you, laughing when you frown. 

you both sit there for a moment, leaning on each other. it’s a well-practiced routine, this sort of closeness. it's been written again and again through many years, a comfort that neither of you will recognize. 

satoru listens to your heart closely, trying to ignore all of the other sounds and sights. 

this isn't overwhelming, he thinks, it's just different. he's sure that he'll make it through a couple of more hours. 

satoru clears his throat, after a moment, leaning back. “are you having fun?” 

you look at him, eyes wide in anticipation, mouth already curling. 

and yeah, you don’t really need to answer that. he already knows. 

*

“what next?” you’re asking, for probably the sixtieth time today. 

the kids are looking around, but their eyes are dreary. megumi is slow to blink, and tsumiki has lost that little glimmer in her smile. 

but, satoru notes, you’re as awake as ever. looking around—missing the obvious exhaustion of the two of them. you're wired, stuck to this one indulgence--more of a kid than either of them. 

he holds back a smile, letting tsumiki lean against his leg. she's slouching, moving at half of her normal pace. 

“hey,” he says to you, gesturing his head down to her. you look at him curiously.

the two of you share a look, but your brows stay furrowed.

“we could—“ tsumiki yawns, pausing for a moment. then she blinks. “we could do that climbing thing—“ she yawns again. “over there.” 

megumi looks where she’s pointing and doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t even look like he’s about to argue, even though he's been arguing about every decision for the last two hours. for his entire life. 

both of them are cranky. like toddlers missing their afternoon naps. 

and your eyes widen, devout attention suddenly on them. satoru can see it as the realization hits your face, looking between the two kids hurriedly. 

then you look at satoru, panicking a little. 

what do we do? you’re asking him, with just your expression. 

you've got a guilty look on your face, and satoru knows that you're thinking about all of the things you've forced them into--the seven hours you've dragged all of them around. 

he could tell you that he didn't mind a minute of it, but you'd just argue with him. 

he grins at you, tapping tsumiki’s shoulder. then he fakes a yawn. “i don’t know... i’m pretty tired...” he says, trying to make his voice rough. 

you look at him for a moment, then play along, a fake smile adorning your face. “aw, satoru. is it past your bedtime?”

“yes.”

you laugh, and rest your hand on top of megumi’s head “are you guys okay with going home now? we wouldn’t want satoru to miss out on his twelve hours.” 

satoru rolls his eyes. 

"you know how he gets," you add, to both of them, giving satoru a little grin--which he promptly tucks in his mind for safe-keeping. 

“fine,” megumi says, tripping on his feet. 

the two of them begin to walk blindly forward, not bothering to look for the exit. they are practically zombies at this point, completely out of it. satoru is quick to snatch the back of megumi's hoodie and the boy glares at him. he's got the other hand around tsumiki's arm, keeping her in place as she tries to escape. 

satoru smirks back at the boy, and then he scoops tsumiki up, letting her climb across his back, in a makeshift piggyback. he taps her legs. “good?” he asks, but she only nods, not bothering to protest that she can walk, yawning again and then resting her head on his shoulder. 

it takes you a moment, but megumi doesn’t complain when you pick him up as well—because he’s started swaying at this point—and he wraps his legs around your waist, settling into your hold with your arms around him. 

his eyes close, and satoru feels a bit jealous for a single second. he looks so content. 

if only he was small enough to fit in your arms like that. 

satoru steps beside you, giving you a look. “you got him?” 

“i went to the same school as you,” you remark and begin to walk towards the entrance. "and just so you know, this is your fault." 

"how is it my fault? i was just following directions." 

"and getting them both high on sugar." 

satoru's lip twitches. "they were hungry." 

you roll your eyes, but your shoulder still brushes his as you walk. satoru's feet hurt, but he doesn't say a thing. 

it takes you both a minute to find it—the real maze is this entire thing—but eventually, you’re walking through the gates, trying to remember where you parked the car. 

the two of you walk around, exchanging brief comments and secretive smiles. if anyone's high here, he thinks, watching you smile at him for the fifth time, it's you. 

you're high on the adrenaline of nostalgia. the sort of memory that satoru knows he won't ever experience; not that he really minds living vicariously through you--he'd like to experience everything through your eyes. 

still, he doesn't fail to smile back every time, a bit sick from the delight exuding from you. 

as soon as you get to the car, the two of you quickly strap the kids in, satoru leaving a kiss on tsumiki's cheek as she clings to his shirt. it takes a moment, but he's gentle as he pries her hands away from him. 

a moment later, as soon as he's sat in the passenger side, she's already snoring. 

he laughs, smiling back at both of them adoringly. megumi is slumped to the side, sleeping as only an exhausted child can be, and he doesn't even notice when satoru reaches back to squeeze his leg affectionately. 

you look at satoru helplessly. 

"guess they didn't need a bedtime story," he says, shrugging. one of them murmurs something in their sleep and you grin at him again, starting the car. 

he'll have to buy tickets again soon, satoru thinks, just so you'll just keep smiling at him like that. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Cult of Love

pairing: cult leader!hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut

word count: 5.1k

warning/s: brain washing, dumbification, dom/sub dynamics, manipulation, loss of virginity, corruption, hyunjin calls reader 'pretty', 'my lamb' and 'good girl', choking, power play, pain kink, dacryphilia, overstimulation, breeding kink (wow lmk if i missed some)

a/n: this is just some dirty smut i had so much fun writing! hope you enjoy and if you did please reblog!🩷

~check out my: Masterlist♡

Being part of a big community that devotes all their time to serve only one person was not how you imagined you'd be living ever.

But here you are, after everyone in your life abandoned you, after everything stopped making sense, after everything you ever loved started hating you, after you almost fell off the edge.

He was the one who found you and the one who saved your lost, aching soul. A beacon of shining light, a man so beautiful that you weren't even sure he was real.

That was two years ago, when you were at your lowest, and now you are the happiest you've ever been in your entire life.

Your brain is re-wired only to know your leader, your god, Hyunjin. Only to obey his commands, heed by his word, worship him. And you are happy to do so, after all, he saved your life. He knows what's best for you, more than you do. He loves you, you know that anything he does to you and anything he makes you do he does so out of love.

That's what you were taught and what you believe. So, when you're finally invited to his huge tent, you couldn't be more excited.

One of his guards brought you a red rose the day before and you knew, as well as eveyone did, you are the next chosen one.

You can't sleep all night, wondering what's in store for you. What is your leader Hyunjin gonna ask of you, make you do? You really have no idea, but you're ready to do anything he says.

Come the morning, some of the other girls and boys helped you prepare. They've gotten commands to help you wash and shave, which made you feel a little bit nervous. With that you know you'll probably be naked in front of him at one point and you hope he likes what he sees.

You put on a beautiful white dress, one that Hyunjin sent for you through his guards. There's a flower crown on your head, courtesy of the girls and boys helping you get ready.

Your heart pounds in your chest and in your ears when the guards come to pick you up and lead you to your leader's tent. On the way there, people clap for you and congratulate you.

Briefly you wonder, where the other women and men disappeared to after being invited into his tent but you bury that thought in favor of happier thoughts. Like how you can serve your god.

As soon as you walk in with the guards, you don't dare to look up so you don't seem disrespectful.

"Leave us."- his sweet voice rings in your ears. The guards bow shortly and leave, leaving you alone with Hyunjin.

"Kneel, pretty."- he says and you do so, falling to your knees immediately, your eyes trained on the ground. Footsteps shuffle closer towards you and your heart jumps up into your throat.

"Look at me."- he says, his voice a little bit lower than before. You look up and are met with his godlike features that you missed seeing since he doesn't come out of his tent often. You're in awe every time you catch a glimpse of him, now even more when you're so close to him.

He places his finger on your chin, lifting it up a little. Your lips part as you continue looking at him. His finger slides slowly on your jaw down to your neck where he wraps his hand around you but doesn't squeeze.

Your eyes flutter at the action, hands folding behind your back in an act of submission towards your leader.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?"- he asks.

"Yes, yes I will."- you answer immediately.

"You will do what?"- he smirks.

"I will be a good girl for you."- you repeat his words.

"Good."- he says, unwrapping his fingers from you and leaning back. "I wonder why I haven't brought you here earlier. You're really pretty."- he adds, leaning down to look at you more closely.

His eyes are dark and deep and you find yourself drowning in them, feeling weak and submissive just from the way he looks at you.

"T-thank you, Sir."- your voice wavers.

"Hyunjin will suffice. I want to hear my name from those pretty lips."- he smirks again, running his thumb on your lower lip.

"Yes, Hyunjin."- saying his name like that feels blasphemous and you feel like you should be punished just for uttering it so easily. But he ordered you to call him by his name and that's what you're gonna do.

Hyunjin looms over you, his hands on your shoulders, slowly pushing the straps of your dress down. Your chest rises and falls together with your rapid breathing, his touch feels electric on your skin.

He keeps pushing your dress down until your ample breasts pop out for him to admire.

"So pretty."- he whispers, his fingers ghosting over your hardening nipple ever so slightly, teasing you.

Your breath catches in your throat, as he smiles at you.

"You've never been touched, right?"

"No, never."- you say, shaking your head innocently.

"That better be the truth, my lamb. You're mine to corrupt."- he smiles even wider and you shiver.

"It's the truth, Hyunjin."- you whisper his name, it still feels too holy to just roll of your tongue like that.

He smirks and starts undressing right in front of you, while you still kneel on the floor, breasts exposed. You can't believe he's doing that already, you feel like you haven't earned to look at his perfect body yet.

But there he is, in all his glory, his semi hard cock right in front of your face and your mouth waters, arousal pools between your legs.

"Worship my cock, pretty."- he's smirking at you, half-lidded eyes tracking your every breath, every twitch, every shiver.

"Yes, Hyunjin."- you whisper and lean in closer. Your hand comes up to the base of his cock, tongue poking out of your lips to give his head a few experimental licks.

He chuckles at you, his hand coming down to caress your head gently.

"You're like a little kitten."- he says condescendingly but to you anything he says is a compliment.

"Put your mouth around it."- he instructs and you do so, enveloping his head with your lips.

"Show me how good you want to be for me. Suck."- Hyunjin commands and you do just what he says. You start lightly sucking on his head, darting your tongue out to play with his slit experimentally and the most beautiful low grunt comes out of his mouth.

You're encouraged by that so you take more of him in your mouth, and his fingers entangle in your hair, holding you more tightly.

Pretty sounds keep coming out of his mouth as you take more and more of him, his cock growing harder in your wet mouth. You're proud of yourself, so proud that you're making your god feel this good, that your own arousal drips down your inner thigh. You press your legs together and Hyunjin notices.

You're too lost in the pleasure of pleasing him that you don't notice the smirk growing on his face, nor the hand that holds your head holding you even tighter now, but still careful of the pretty flower crown that adorns you. He grabs a fistful of your hair and without warning pushes his cock in deeper into you, his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag as tears gather in your eyes, saliva dripping down your chin.

"You gag so sweetly."- he smirks holding your head down and fucking your face lightly. Your heart starts beating faster as you fold your hands behind your back again letting Hyunjin use your face for his pleasure. Tears stream down your cheeks and you shut your eyes tight as he picks up speed. There's nothing you can do but try to breathe through your nose and let him have his way with you.

"Look at me!"- he orders, pulling on your hair and you whimper around him, sending vibrations through his cock as you open your eyes and try to look at him, vision blurred by your tears.

"I love seeing you like this. So pretty when you're ruined for me."- he says and you moan around him again.

"But we're just getting started, my lamb."- he pulls his cock out of your mouth abruptly and you cough a little, trying to regain your senses.

"Get up."- Hyunjin orders and you do so.

Hyunjin's hands are back on your dress as he slides it down your body. You've got nothing under it, just how he wanted you to come to him.

Suddenly, you feel self conscious, being naked like this in front of someone you considered your only god. Your hands fold over your body in an attempt to cover up.

"Are you trying to cover yourself up from me?"- Hyunjin asks, and you look at him, shivering under his gaze.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."- you swallow, letting your hands fall on your sides.

"It's okay my little lamb."- Hyunjin coos at you, hand coming up to cradle your cheek. "It's your first time, I know you're just being shy. But you don't have to be afraid, I know what you need. I know what's best for you."- he whispers the last sentence, as he comes closer to you.

"Yes, Hyunjin."- you repeat the same two words like you're under some kind of spell, mesmerized by his eyes, his lips, his touch.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, you know what's best for me."- you say as he leans in even closer, his breath on your lips.

The hand that was on your cheek is now holding the back of your neck, as his other hand slides down over your breast and side to your lower back. Hyunjin pulls you into his body and you feel how hot his skin is against yours. It makes your senses buzz as he presses his plump lips on yours.

He cradles your head with his big hand, tilting it back and holding you in place as he devours your lips with his. You moan against him, parting your mouth and allowing his tongue to slip in.

Your eyes roll back and you shut them tightly as he pushes his tongue as deep as he can and starts exploring your mouth, tasting you and making sure you never forget the taste of him.

You're not sure if you're allowed to touch him so you keep your hands on your sides, fingertips digging into your own hips because you need to hold on to something. Hyunjin's stealing away your breath with his kiss, you feel dizzy, like you're floating. He finally releases you when he's almost out of breath and you gasp as he looks at you wildly, biting on his lower lip.

"Want you on the bed. Now."- he growls and you almost trip over the carpet in an attempt to lay down as fast as you can.

"Easy, pretty. Don't damage my goods."- Hyunjin smirks as he grabs onto your arm and steadies you.

"I'm sorry, Hyunjin."

"Just lay down."- he orders a little more gently, trying to soothe you and also calm himself down. He's not one to yell or hurt his object of affection unless it's punishment and it's absolutely needed. And he doesn't want to scare you, not with how unhinged he gets when he's turned on.

You lay down as he instructed you, his bed is comfortable and the sheets seem to be made of satin or something similar. You've never touched something as soft as that fabric and it soothes your fast-beating heart just a little.

"Show me that sweet pussy, my lamb."- Hyunjin wastes no time as he sits on the bed.

You gasp a little, taken aback by the command but you obey nonetheless, spreading your legs as wide as you can to show Hyunjin what belongs to him.

He bites his lip, hands on your thighs as he leans in closer between your legs.

"Beautiful."- he says, eyeing it and you feel so vunerable and exposed, even a little humiliated but you try to remind yourself it's your leader Hyunjin, you're his and your body is his, and he has the right to look at you however he wants.

"It looks like a pretty rose."- he adds, smirking and you swallow, you heart almost leaping out of your chest as arousal gushes out of you.

"T-thank you, Hyunjin."- you say quietly, lips trembling in anticipation.

Hyunjin leans in even closer, breath fanning over your wetness and your pussy clenches around nothing. He smirks, he's teasing you and he knows he can do that as long as he wants and you don't get to say no or protest it, you just have to take it.

You wouldn't dare go against him, you believe in him too much to do something bad.

So you keep still as his finger makes contact with your clit. He circles it a little, before sliding it down over your folds, teasingly dipping the pad of his finger inside your dripping hole.

You breathe deeply, trying to calm your racing heart and you feel an ache in your pelvis, an ache telling you to move and chase his fingers, beg for more, anything he'll give you. But you know better than that.

Hyunjin gathers some of your wetness with his fingers and brings them to your lips.

"Taste yourself."- he says and you put your tongue out and start licking at his fingers, eyes never leaving his. He looks at you as if he's going to devour you and you wouldn't mind if he did.

He moves his hand away from your lips and leans down. You think he'll kiss your lips so you close your eyes and wait for him but then you feel his tongue on your nipple.

"Ah!"- you moan as your eyes snap open and you look at him. Hyunjin smirks, his tongue playing with your nipple, moving it up and down, left and right. You're already shaking, so sensitive as you've never been touched like this before.

Hyunjin puts his hand on your other breast, giving it a squeeze before pinching your nipple. He grips your breast again as he takes your nipple in his mouth and starts sucking.

The sight and the feeling together is too much so you shut your eyes tightly, head falling back as you start whimpering and arching into him.

A shot of pain runs through you and your eyes open, only for your mind to register that Hyunjin bit on your nipple.

"Don't look away from me."- he grins, tongue darting out to lick at your tender nipple.

"I'm s-sorry."- you whimper, body twitching under him.

He moves to your other breast, giving it equal attention and when you think he's done, he's not. He just keeps playing with your nipples until they're swollen and tender and you can't take anymore. Silent tears run down your cheeks as you whimper. Hyunjin releases your nipple from his lips and comes up closer to your face.

"Why are you crying, my lamb?"- he asks, knuckles brushing gently on your cheek.

"It hurts."- you whisper, another tear threatening to fall down but Hyunjin wipes it off.

"I promise it'll feel good, pretty. You know I love you, hm? You trust me, don't you?"- he coos at you again, caressing your face and you can't help feeling small when he talks to you like that. Feeling like, to thank him you need to submit to him, be good for him, do what he orders, trust everything he says.

"I trust you, Hyunjin. I would never dream of doubting my leader."- you say.

"Good girl."- he grins. "Now, keep watching me."- Hyunjin whispers as he leans down between your legs, his face close to where you need him the most.

He teases you with kisses to your inner thigh, all the way towards your core, still avoiding it and pressing kisses all around it. You shiver, keeping your eyes on his every move as he commanded you. He looks back at you, eyes unwavering as he presses a kiss to your clit.

You bite on your lip and stay still while Hyunjin starts playing with your clit, giving it teasing kisses and little licks at first before he wraps his lips around it and starts sucking and licking faster. Your legs tremble and you accidentally moan too loudly, arm coming up so you can bite on it.

"Don't do that, pretty. Let me hear your pleasure."- Hyunjin immediately grabs your arm and moves it away from your lips.

"I'm sorry, Hyunjin."- your lips tremble, eyes watering a little. You don't want to keep making mistakes like that and look dumb in front of Hyunjin, you want to be good for him and worthy of his love.

"Hey, hey, don't apologize. You're still learning, my little lamb. Just let me guide you, okay?"- he soothes you with his sweet voice, hands gently caressing your thighs.

"Yes, Hyunjin."- you chant again, determined to follow every command, obey every order he gives you.

Hyunjin leans back down between your legs, this time his tongue slides between your folds.

You gasp at the action, hands gripping the pretty satin sheets under you. Hyunjin smirks as he grips your ass, thumbs on either sides of your core, slowly pulling you apart, opening you up for him.

You whimper, pussy clenching around nothing again and he looks up at you, eyes dark and full of lust.

"Such a sweet pussy. Desperate to be stuffed, hm?"- he asks but gives you no time to answer as he dives in, pushing his tongue inside you as deep as he can.

You're moaning and whining, your legs trembling, knuckles turning white where you grip at the sheets. Nothing ever felt as good as this in your life, Hyunjin is pleasing you so well, swallowing all your juices.

You almost feel too ashamed that you have your god do something like that to you, but that makes you feel even more determined to please him too and give him whatever he asks of you.

Hyunjin is relentless, his tongue is never tiring, even when your moans grow higher in pitch and you feel something swirl in your stomach. It travels down as you keep shaking, legs almost closing around Hyunjin's head and he fucks your pussy with his tongue even faster and you can't hold it in anymore.

"P-please!"- you beg, you don't even know what for but Hyunjin doesn't stop or slow down, and you let go as you moan his name repeatedly, your juices painting his tongue, lips and chin.

"You did so well, my lamb."- he says, a little breathless.

"T-thank you. Hyunjin."- you whimper as he dives back in to play with your clit, flicking it with his tongue fast, teeth grazing at it and you mewl, legs falling open again.

It's a lot, almost too much, but you want to take it, you want him to keep playing with you as long as he wants. Your legs are shaking as he keeps making out with your pussy and you explode on his face again. And then again. And again until you've lost count.

Tears keep streaming down your cheek and you don't even register Hyunjin's face in front of yours until he gently wipes your tears away.

"H-Hyunjin."- you cry out.

"Shh. It's okay, my lamb. You're doing so good for me."- he praises you, fingers running up and down your soaking wet pussy, tortured after all the orgasms he ripped from you.

"I want to be- be good for you."- you whimper as he dips his fingertips into you.

"You do?"- he smirks sickly at you and you nod fervently.

"Then you can take two fingers immediately."- he says and slowly starts pushing into you.

You moan, your back arching instinctively as you grab at the sheets again. Hyunjin's fingers are slender but long and you feel the shape of his knuckles as he pushes them in deep, all the way to the ring that adorns his finger, the coldness of it making you shiver.

He starts moving them slowly as your lips fall open into a silent moan and you stare into his eyes, completely mesmerized by him.

"Feels good, pretty?"- Hyunjin asks. The orgasms you had before helped open you up and lubricate you so you weren't in any pain as he keeps stretching you slowly.

"So good, Hyunjin."- you whimper, your eyes fluttering but staying open. You don't want to accidentally shut them or look away from your leader.

He starts moving them faster as he comes closer to you, peppering your face in kisses, catching your tears with his lips. He kisses your eyelids, your nose, the corners of your lips while he keeps plunging his fingers faster and harder into you.

The contrast of his gentle kisses and the way his fingers are abusing your pussy make you feel incredibly hot. Your mind and body buzzes, you don't know anything but Hyunjin in that moment and you feel a pressure build up, a pressure you've never felt before.

"Let go."- Hyunjin orders when he sees you struggling. And you obey, you let go and squirt all over the bed and his hand just as he pulls his fingers out of you.

"Fuck. That's my good girl."- he smirks and pushes his fingers into you abruptly again.

"Ah!"- you almost scream out as he starts fucking you fast again, your pussy screaming with overstimulation. You want to close your legs, beg him to stop but at the same time you never want him to stop.

"You can take one more finger, right my lamb?"- Hyunjin hovers over you. You look up at him with your hooded and wet eyes and nod.

"Words, pretty."- he warns you, his free hand coming up around your throat.

"Yes, I can take it! Please!"- you cry out, spreading your legs even more.

Hyunjin pulls his fingers out and then pushes three of them back in and the stretch has your eyes rolling back. You seek to ground yourself somehow so you grab his bicep, the one that belongs to the hand holding your neck and he squeezes a little.

"H-h-Hyunjin..."- you whimper as Hyunjin fucks you with such force that it has your whole body rocking together with the bed.

"Tell me pretty..."- he smirks. "Do you want my cock inside you?"

Your mind is gone, all you know is Hyunjin and the need to submit to him completely, to give into him even if he kills you.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes please! Yes!"- you keep chanting as your pussy clenches around his fingers, the squelching sound of your wetness so sinful.

"Squirt for me again and I'll think about it."- he smiles crazy at you but to you he looks beautiful and perfect and you have to obey him. So you let go and squirt again, even more than you did before, your heart beating so fast you're scared it'll actually leap out of your chest.

"Fuck!"- Hyunjin looks crazed, hand coming down to slap your pussy. You whine loudly in pain and surprise, feeling so sensitive after everything he did to you. "I need to breed this sweet pussy now. You want that, hm?"

"Yes, I do!"- you whine again as he grabs his cock, sliding his hard tip on your pussy, pressing it into your clit.

"Beg for it!"- he grabs at your neck again, the tip of his cock between your folds, slowly opening you up.

"Please breed me, Hyunjin!"- you beg, and his eyes roll back before he looks at you wildly and starts pushing in.

Your pussy opens up like a flower to take him, you're so tight and warm, so pliant for him like you were made just for this.

His hand squeezes around your neck as he keeps stretching you with his cock, and you feel a sudden rush of fear with your air being cut off like that, the little sting between your legs, the question if you'll even be able to take all of him.

Your nails dig into his arm and he looks at you so darkly, like he's in a trance and you shiver as the tip of his cock pushes up to your cervix.

"Trust me my little lamb. I'd never hurt you."- he squeezes more and you almost start panicking as little spots appear in front of your eyes.

But you trust him and he starts moving slowly and then he finally releases your neck. You gasp for air, your head is spinning as Hyunjin almost pulls out only for him to push back into you forcefully, knocking the breath out of you again.

"H-Hyunjin! I-it hurts!"- you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes again as he pounds into you.

"It'll feel better. Don't worry, pretty."- he whispers and captures your lips in his, shutting you up.

His tongue forces your lips open, exploring your mouth again, his hands have a bruising hold on your hips.

"Unless you want me to stop completely."- he smirks as he suddenly moves away from you.

"N-no, please don't stop!"- you beg, desperate for him. You want him closer to you, as close as it's possible and you ignore the fear bubbling inside you with the way he's looking at you.

"No? You want me to fuck this tight pussy until she can't take anymore, hm?"- he grins, pressing his fingers on your swollen clit and flicking them in time with his thrusts.

"Yes, please Hyunjin! Please!"- you grab at his arm again and he chuckles darkly, speeding up as his hips slap into you so hard that the bed starts rattling. His cock is ripping you apart but all the pain you felt turns into pleasure, and you can't contain your moans nor keep your eyes opened.

Hyunjin enjoys the view of you spread completely open for him, your hair like a halo around your head, the pretty flower crown ruined, leaving some of the flowers stuck in your hair, tears sliding down your cheeks, your pretty lips parted. He enjoys the power he holds over you, how pliant you are for him, how you'd do anything he asks of you. You just might be his favorite, he thinks as he grips your hips harder, his nails digging into your flesh.

Your eyes snap open and meet with his, there's something animalistic in them and fear runs through you again making your pussy clench around him.

"Are you gonna come for me again, pretty?"- he smirks.

"Y-yeah... I'm... I-" - you can't even form a coherent sentence, not with the way he's fucking you, his hands now roaming all over your body, one of them coming up to wrap around your neck again.

"Can you even talk?"- he chuckles as you lean into his hand, ready to let him choke you to death if that's what he wants.

"Ah!"- you moan when he hits that sweet spot inside you.

"Going a little dumb on my cock, aren't you my lamb?"- he growls as he fucks into you harder, his tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, driving you insane until you explode all over his cock.

"Mm yes!"- you answer him, your ears ringing and your whole body tense.

"Gonna breed you now."- Hyunjin squeezes your neck, your air cut off again as his hips pound into you. Your lips fall open, eyes wide as you stare at his dark ones, filled with lust and something else lurking behind it.

His hand is bruising on your neck and you panic, feeling like you're slipping away even though the way his cock is ravaging you makes you come on him again and that's the last straw Hyunjin needed before his cock twitches inside you and he paints your walls with his warm come.

He finally releases your neck, you cough and gasp, grabbing at it, your whole body shaking as your wide eyes stare up at Hyunjin.

"You took that so well, my little lamb."- he says as he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty.

"T-thank you."- you voice is hoarse and you almost don't recognize it. Hyunjin reaches to touch your face and you flinch for some reason, which makes him frown.

"Are you afraid of me, pretty?"- he asks, his face serious and seemingly devoid of any emotions. You swallow and lean your face towards his hand.

"No, I'm not."- you say, trying to convince him and yourself even though your heart is beating fast.

"Why did you flinch?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. It wont happen again."

"It better not. I told you I would never hurt you. Only if you misbehave, then I have to punish you. But you know that everything I do is for your good, right lamb?"- Hyunjin smirks again, caressing your cheek.

"Yes, I know Hyunjin."- you nod.

"Good. Because I'm going to keep you here. You will serve me every day from now on. You will be my wife and bear my children."- he grins, getting up from the bed.

"Really?!"- you ask as you sit up, excited that you out of all people were chosen to serve Hyunjin, to become his wife and give him children.

"Yes. Are you happy about that?"- he hovers over you, hand holding your chin.

"Very happy. And honored."- you nod fervently.

"My little lamb. You know I love you, right?"- Hyunjin asks and there's something gentle shining in his dark eyes.

"Yes, I... I love you too, Hyunjin."- you answer, your lips trembling.

"I know you do."- he smirks again, caressing your head. "Go to sleep now. I have some things to take care of."

"You're not gonna sleep with me?"- you whimper, eyes already watering at the thought of not being next to your leader and soon-to-be husband.

"I'll join you later, my pretty. Don't be sad."- he coos, laying you down and tucking you in.

"Okay."- you say, your eyes closing. After all, you were beyond exhausted and it didn't take long for you to slip away into dreamland.

Hyunjin stands over you for a few moments, eyes scanning your sleeping face, dried tears on your cheeks, lips swollen from kisses and bruises around your neck.

He grins, you're so obedient and innocent, so eager to please him. Everyone else disobeyed him and questioned him but not you. You are so sweet, so good for him. He's going to have so much fun with you and he can't wait to show you just how dark he can be.

[agirlwhodreamsandwishes]

Never again

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you feel like you are not worthy of being part of the avengers, you discover someone who thinks exactly the opposite.

a/n. So, this is my first fanfic :). I would really appreciate if you tell me if you liked and your opinions about it! I hope I don't dissapoint anyone! Any advice would be appreciated. And please, remember English is not my first language.

Word count: 1.5k

Fluff, shy Bucky.

As a new avenger everything was hard for you. Not because the rest of the team wasn’t nice or understanding with you, but because of all the pressure you had to go through. Everyone in the city was looking at you all the time, at the new girl, questioning every move you made. Why wouldn’t they? You are the novelty, something new to talk about after a calm period of time. You were there for six months and you were already stressed. 

“Hey Y/N, you okay? You seem off.” You heard Wanda asking as she looked at you with a frown. You had made friends; Sam and Wanda were immediately your favorite people in the team since the first time you arrived, always so welcoming and nice. But you never tell them how you really felt; you didn’t want to be a bother, they all had their own worries and you didn’t want to be another one to add to the list. “Yeah! I’m just tired, I couldn’t sleep last night.” You try to fake a smile hoping she would buy it and stop asking.

Every day at night you go on a walk by a little beach near the compound— your safe place, a moment of peace in which you let your feelings out, crying while nobody is watching or listening to you. At least, you don’t think anyone notices your daily routine, you think you’re being cautious. But that’s not the case, there’s one person who has been watching you since almost the first time— Bucky Barnes, the cold and sometimes rude super soldier. 

Bucky Barnes was stunned the first time you met him, but you thought he didn’t care about you. He looked at you when you introduced yourself, nodded and left the room. You almost cried. Why was he that rude? The truth was that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. When you met him you didn’t look scared of him nor you didn’t seem to hate him. You were like a ray of sunshine, smiling and being nice. He couldn’t allow himself to be near you, he didn’t deserve you. But he started to notice your nightly walks and he couldn’t allow you to go alone. What if something happened to you? No, no, that couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

Bucky suffered each time he saw you cry, but he didn’t want to interfere, thinking you wouldn't want him near. So he tried to cheer you up from a safe distance. You received flowers (sunflowers, because they reminded him of you), your favorite candies and, even once, a book you wanted to read for a few weeks before he sent it to you. You didn’t know who was buying those things for you, you thought you had some fan like the other avengers had. 

“Hey! Sam! Look what I received today! Someone sent me some candles! They smell amazing!” Sam chuckled at your excitement looking discreetly at his super soldier best friend, who was sitting at the sofa, peeking at you from behind the book he was reading. “Y/N, that fan of yours must really like you a lot, doesn’t it look like that, Bucky?” Of course, he knew his friend, and he knew Bucky was head over heels for you. “Yeah, sure.” Bucky hid himself again behind the book, not before sending a death glare to his friend. You blush, realizing in that exact moment that he was there. You might have developed a tiny crush on him. Well, maybe not that tiny, but he was so handsome. And even though he barely talked to you, you loved when you saw him laughing and joking with Sam and Steve. It was a rare but beautiful sight.

It was night again, and the day had been really hard for you, you had made a mistake that caused the loss of some important files. The team was able to recover them, but still, you felt awful. It was like you only failed again and again. That night, you started walking by your comfort beach but you couldn’t see through all the tears falling down your eyes; it was too much. You sat in the sand and started crying; you couldn’t stop. 

You felt strong arms wrapping you. “I’m here.” You could recognise that voice anywhere. Bucky was there, with you, hugging you and telling you that he was there for you. You hugged him tight while crying more and more, while he caressed your hair. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay.” 

When you calmed yourself, you didn’t want to move, you were too embarrassed to do something. Not only had someone seen you crying, but that someone was Bucky Barnes himself. “Y/N? Do you feel better now?” 

You nod and look at him, your face completely red. He chuckles when he sees how embarrassed you are. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m here for you if you need me.”

“I… I feel awful. What I did today… it could’ve ended really badly, Bucky. I’m only a burden; I don’t belong here. People are watching me fail everyday at something. I can’t anymore.” You try to not start crying again but you fail.

“Don’t say that That’s completely false, Y/N. You’re really important here. You don’t realize how helpful you are here.” He hugs you again and kisses your forehead while you keep crying. 

“Do you really believe that? I’m not that relevant; I’ve been here for six months.” You look at him again, still blushing.

“Don’t you realize how much we need you? It’s not only the fact that you are an amazing agent, it’s also because you always have a smile on your face, always smiling. You are always there when someone needs something, willing to help. You don’t want anyone to suffer, but you suffer alone. The team would not survive without you. I wouldn’t survive without you.” He whispered that last sentence and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were still hugging and you were so close to him, you would’ve missed it.”

“What?” You blushed again. “Bucky, what do you mean?” 

It’s his turn to blush, as he ignores your question. “You know, it’s not the first time I see you here… I just didn’t want to bother you. It seemed like you wanted to be alone and… yeah, today… I couldn’t just stare and do nothing.” 

“I appreciate it. I really do. I needed that hug.” You look straight in his eyes. “But can you answer my question, please?” You saw how he avoided your eyes and blushed more. You then realize that he hadn’t let you go off his arms, and you blush as you start to chuckle because you two look like idiots. 

“Are you really gonna make me answer that? Can we ignore it, please?” He knew he’d have to answer but he didn’t want to. 

“Yes, please.” You now looked at him with a serious expression and he realized that this was his chance, he was going to tell you how he feels about you.

“Okay, but please don’t interrupt me, I need to say this quickly” You nodded. “Y/N, I… since the fist time I saw you, you live rent free in my mind. You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. You truly are light; you bring sun to the darkest days. You remind me of a sunflower. When you started walking at night, I started too; I couldn’t let anything happen to you. When I saw you crying every night… my heart broke in a million pieces, I wanted to help you, be there for you everytime you needed me. But I didn’t know if you would’ve wanted me to be with you, I know that we are not that close, and I feel it’s my fault.” You didn’t know what to say; you stared at him in shock.

“Bucky, why? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Why didn’t you talk to me? Or tried to be my friend?” You were trapped in his eyes, so blue you thought you could drown in them.

“I don’t deserve you, Y/N. I… I have something to confess. The flowers, the candles… It was me.” He looked away from your eyes.

“Look at me, Bucky, please.” He looked at you, then at your lips. The tension was palpable. You looked at his lips and then up at his eyes. When you saw the way he’s looking at you, you felt at home, safe. You had never felt as loved as in that moment. So you did it. You kissed him and the world stopped. It was just both of you; nothing else mattered. You felt safe with him and you knew you’d never be alone again.

“Bucky? I don’t want to do this walks alone again.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around you again, kissing your forehead. 

“Never again, love, never again”.

[moonlight-prose]

✧ PRESSURE ✧

a/n: we have officially reached the end of week one and we're ending it with a bang! i feel like it's mandatory i do a threesome fic with these two every kinktober. but i can't help it. they're so perfect for this dynamic. the amount of love i go for my hangman fic is overwhelming so thank you to everyone. i hope you enjoy this one just as much!

day eight - double penetration + threesome | kinktober 2023

summary: "you were the gravity keeping these pilots on the ground, the reason they came home after every mission, after every training and debacle. you were it for them. their lifeline."

word count: 2k+

pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader x jake 'hangman' seresin

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, double penetration, threesome, assplay, ass eating, anal, overstimulation, bradley and jake being sweethearts, they're in love y'all, m/m.

So this is what death must feel like. What leaving this earthly plane was at the end of things when you took your last breath—leaving behind everything you’d ever known. There was no sure way for you to tell. No way for you to understand that what you were experiencing was like that, because you could barely make sense of where you were. Of what your name was.

His teeth dug into your shoulder, hands spread along your hips as he took you apart with ease. You were on top of him, pressed into his body until there was no space between you and him, but that’s what you wanted. What you craved. His lips met yours, silencing the loud whimpers that echoed in the room as his hands slid to your ass, spreading you obscenely.

“You want it don’t you honey?” he cooed in your ear, his fingers digging into your flesh, keeping you open for the second pair of eyes that burned into you.

The eyes that you knew so well you could practically see them yourself. Bradley knelt behind you on the bed, watching as you sunk onto Jake’s cock, fucking yourself on it in the hopes of getting either of them to move. But they held you steady. Keeping you still as they kept the pace—ever so patient and diligent in their nature. You understood that came with being a pilot, the strength to keep yourself poised and ready, but fuck if you didn’t hate it when it came to this.

“Please,” you whimpered, hips pressing down—Jake’s cock slipping in even further.

“Please huh?” He dipped his hand even further, sliding into the slick that practically leaked out and around his cock. “Look at our girl Rooster. She’s leakin’ for us.”

You pressed your face into his neck, your body responding to his words in a way that should have made you feel ashamed. Except there was that small niggling feeling that bloomed in your chest, forcing its way to the surface with ease. Pride. You liked knowing he was unable to stop staring; that while they rendered you a mess, you did the same for them.

They could keep their composure all they wanted, but when it came down to it. They would fall to their knees for you with a single look—pleading to feel you like this. Which is why you fell into it with ease; pressing yourself into Jake’s hands and allowing him to spread you even wider—giving Bradley an even better look at what awaited him. You heard the audible grunt he let out, the bed dipping as he shifted, his head falling down and forehead pressing into your back.

“So pretty for us baby,” he said, awe tinging his voice, his breath hot against your skin.

“I—” You wanted to ask them to keep going, to beg them, but Bradley’s tongue sliding along the base of Jake’s cock gathering your slick silenced you.

It sent heat streaking up your spine, your toes curling at the sensation. A choked sound stuck to your throat, muffled by Jake’s shoulder, but they heard it nonetheless. His tongue slid up higher, pressing against the hole they’d only teased before. The place that they had yet to claim as theirs. You unconsciously pressed back into it, asking for more as he worked your slick and spit along you—making a mess with his mouth.

“She likes that,” Jake grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his aching cock. “Keep licking at her and she’ll cum.”

“That right baby?” Bradley asked, sinking his teeth into your ass. “Like my tongue back here?”

A sob echoed in the room, your eyes rolling back when he continued, pressing a finger against the tight ring. He moaned audibly into you, spitting where his finger was now knuckle deep, pressing on something eviscerating. You shook against Jake’s body, your hips pressing down and taking him until the hair at the base of his cock dragged perfectly along your clit. And that was all it took to bring you to a sharp end.

“Oh—fuck—” You cried, gushing around Jake’s cock as the pressure snapped in two, flooding your body with that sensational bliss.

Jake groaned, his hands pressing you tightly to him as he shoved his hips up—pushing you even higher. “There you go honey.”

You were completely unaware that Bradley had added another finger, stretching you gently as you came down from your high. But then it began to build again. That slow steady heat that trickled through your veins, singeing your nerves and stopping your brain altogether. It threatened to break you, to completely drag you beneath the surface of awareness. You pushed back against him, a guttural moan falling from your lips as you moved, begging him for more.

“Think she’s ready?” Jake asked, watching as Bradley sunk another finger into you, nearly turning you immobile.

He hummed in pleasure, spreading a hand up your spine and soothing you with soft strokes of his thumb. “Nearly there. Yeah baby? You almost ready to take me?”

A garbled echo of what they assumed to be yes came from you as they continued to take you apart. Your body shaking from the overstimulation of your first orgasm never truly coming to an end. You were left on the precipice of pleasure—about to be dragged over again, but then he pulled away. His fingers disappeared altogether, ripping a broken whine from your lips—your hips chasing the feeling.

You heard him chuckle, heard the way he stroked his cock—spreading your slick and his spit along the length. Which made you want him even more. Jake’s hands slid up and down your back, his lips pressing along your throat as he shifted. Slowly sitting up with you in his lap—his mouth finding yours and swallowing the soft moan you let out. At this point you weren’t able to move on your own. They had turned you into a pliable form beneath their touches and you fell into it—gave them everything they could have wanted, because they did the same to you.

“He’s gonna be gentle,” Jake said in a low tone against your ear. “Gonna take it slow with you.”

“I will,” Bradley promised against your shoulder, his hand sliding between your bodies and cupping your breast. Thumb running along your sensitive nipple. “Tell me when you’re ready baby.”

You let your head fall back against his shoulder, nodding slowly as you blinked up at him—coherency no longer a part of your skills. Bradley smiled sweetly, his thumb curling around your chin and bringing your lips to his. Licking slowly into your mouth—tasting the desire on your tongue and returning it in kind. They loved you. That much you knew. But this was something else. A flickering feeling that began to grow the longer you were there, wrapped in their arms.

“Pretty,” he mumbled, notching his cock at your backside, his thumb continuing to run a soothing circle along your chin, keeping your eyes locked on him. “So fucking tight.”

The breath caught in your throat, fingers digging into Jake’s shoulder when Bradley began to press into you. Thrusting into you with small movements and giving you time to adjust with every inch. Originally you believed this would be enough to break you, but you were wrong. It was earth-shattering. A sensation that shoved you so high you nearly screamed. But the sound was trapped in your chest, your mouth falling open silently as he panted against your cheek.

“You’re doing good,” he grunted, biting gently at your cheek.

Jake moaned, his head falling against your shoulder when your cunt tightened around him, nearly strangling his cock. “Fuck honey. Rooster ‘m not gonna last man.”

“Almost there,” he gritted, pushing forward a bit more until his hips met your ass.

And that’s when you screamed. Your voice finally back the second he sank to the hilt, filling you in a way that had your body shaking. Pleasure struck your body with such a strong wave you felt light-headed. The breath left your lungs faster than you could get it. You felt yourself gush, felt the wetness trickle down your thighs, but it barely registered in your brain that you were coming. That your body was wound so tight because of it.

“Fuck, fuck,” Jake spit, thrusting up into you and shoving you even higher. He bit down on your shoulder, hands grasping on your hips as he fought against finishing.

“You good?” Bradley asked over your shoulder.

“Yeah. Just…damn.” He turned his attention towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How are you honey?”

Finally after so long, you managed to speak. “G-good,” you whispered hoarsely. “Feel good.”

“Yeah?” He thrusted up gently, watching with a grin as your mouth fell open, your hands scrambling for purchase against his chest. “You like being filled with us? That it?”

“Ah!” You nodded, nails biting into his skin as Bradley shifted, meeting Jake’s thrust with one of his own.

It was a strange sensation to feel both of them at once, nearly touching one another but still apart. Yet that’s not what drove you back to the very precipice of finishing. It was the sound of Bradley dragging Jake closer, his lips sealing over the man’s with ease—tongue licking into his mouth. Your walls fluttered at the sound, chest heaving as they sped up slightly, their bodies pressing you between them so tightly you could barely move.

“Can feel you baby,” Bradley whispered hotly against your ear. “You want to cum again? I know you do.”

“Yes—” Your eyes rolled back when his hand fell down to your clit, swiping against it gently. “Hng—FUCK!”

As if on cue, your body spasmed, walls clamping down on both of them and sending you reeling. Another gush of wetness spilled along your body, coating Jake’s stomach and the tops of his thighs as he fucked himself into you rapidly. You could feel it. The way they were both holding onto their releases by the very skin of their teeth, their nails digging into your skin with enough pressure to draw blood.

With a hoarse shout, Bradley spilled into you, his hips slamming into your ass with a speed that shoved Jake even deeper. A choked sob caught in your throat, your body arching into Jake’s as he quickly followed Bradley. Spurting into you with a cry, his body falling against yours—face pressing into your heaving chest. It was a mess of pleasure, the three of you now in shambles.

“That was…” Bradley panted, his chest pressed tightly to your back, lips trailing against your shoulder.

Jake softly whined when he pulled out of you slowly, seeing the way the sticky release spilled from you. “Never seen anything better than that.”

Bradley chuckled. “I think we broke her.”

“She’s still here.” Jake kissed your lips gently, his hand pressing against your stomach softly. “C’mon baby. Open those pretty eyes for us.”

You responded to his words, sinking into Bradley’s hold a bit more as your eyes fluttered open. They were glassy and dazed, the fucked out look on your face more prominent than it had ever been before. And that made them smile. Hell you could barely form a single word in your head, but you’d never felt better in your life. Your body sluggish as they moved you to lay down—Bradley pulling out as Jake grabbed a warm cloth.

“You want a bath baby?” he asked, his eyes roving along your body to make sure you were still intact—still okay after something so extreme.

You nodded, curling your fingers into his hair slowly. “That sounds good,” you rasped.

He grinned, hands sliding up your waist. “Whatever you want, baby. It’s yours.”

There was no doubt that he meant every word. That you came before anything. You were the gravity keeping these pilots on the ground, the reason they came home after every mission, after every training and debacle. You were it for them. Their lifeline. So when Bradley gathered you in his arms, Jake coming up behind him with a glass of water and your favorite silk robe in hand, you believed him.

Whatever you wanted.

Even if what you wanted was both of them. At once.

[lonely-cowboy]

beautifully human

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: after noticing the way connor looks at other androids, you worry that you may never have a chance with him. but what you don't know is that he has only ever had eyes for you.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: insecure reader, mentions of death (they literally talk about dying in an elevator) (spoiler alert: it doesn't happen), probably ooc connor, west coast dialect went a little too hard in the dialogue, some very specific physical descriptions that i also tried to keep as general as possible? you'll see what i mean ig

author's note: glad to report that this account is lowkey helping me get over my writer's block, so that's amazing for me. anyway. as usual, feel free to leave any critiques on how i can improve my writing, characterization, etc.! :)

masterlist ⟡ requests

You hated that your investigation brought you to the Eden Club. You didn’t necessarily hate the Eden Club or its workers, but you hated that you had to go with Connor and Hank. It would’ve been embarrassing enough to go with just Hank, but adding Connor to the mix made you want to collapse to the ground and never move again. But you were a professional, so if you had to go with Connor and Hank then you could suck it up for a night. Hopefully.

The moment you stepped inside the club, you were filled with unease. Your stomach churned and your shoulders scrunched up high as if you were trying to hide from the world. To handle your discomfort, you turned cold and distant, observing everything and everyone with an icy glare. You trailed behind Hank and Connor as you scanned your surroundings, doing your very best to look at everything but Connor.

You couldn’t look at Connor in this place without being filled with a displaced sense of anger. You couldn’t help but wonder if he looked at these androids with infatuation or desire. Did he find them beautiful? Did he want them in the same way you wanted him? You knew they were stupid thoughts, but you couldn’t control them. Somehow, Connor had weaseled his way into your heart and refused to leave no matter how hard you tried.

Distracted by your foggy mind, you almost bumped right into Connor when he stopped to admire a Traci, his soft gaze exploring her body through the glass barrier. You watched as the Traci smiled gently at him, her hand reaching forward to touch the glass like she was trying to caress his cheek. Connor didn’t move to reciprocate her action, but he still appeared to be in awe. It only made your scowl deepen.

You hated that you were consumed by jealousy because you knew– deep down– that it stemmed from insecurity. This Traci was made to be beautiful. She was made to be desired and worshipped. In her limited clothing, there wasn’t much left to the imagination. Her body was the epitome of perfect with its soft curves and smooth skin. She was a perfect balance of sweet and charismatic. She was everything that you assumed a man wanted, and androids were no exception. From the way Connor looked at her, you were sure she was everything he wanted too. 

You sighed in frustration before marching away as Hank called to Connor. You refused to let your jealousy– or anything you felt for Connor– get in the way of your investigation. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind was still drawn to him.

Maybe you had been too hopeful, but you really had thought that maybe– just maybe– Connor had felt something for you. Apparently, you were just far more delusional than you thought.

While Hank discussed the crime scene with Officer Miller, you stood to the side looking uncharacteristically cold. With your arms folded over your chest and a hard, almost bored look in your eye, it was clear that you weren’t particularly interested in talking to anyone. You assumed that would be obvious to everyone, androids included. And it seemed that it had been obvious, but that certainly didn’t stop Connor.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Connor watching you with a confused glint. His LED flashed yellow as he analyzed your body language, working to only make your blood boil. You knew there was no reason to be angry with him, so why did your anger persist? Why did you feel so unreasonably jealous? He was just a man, after all, nothing more.

Connor approached you with his hands clasped behind his back, standing beside you and following your cold gaze. He was silent for a moment, pleased to simply be in your presence even when you were acting so stony.

“You’re unusually quiet, Detective,” Connor observed. “This is not within your typical behavioral patterns. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” you answered dismissively. “Don’t you have a body to analyze?”

Connor paused again, pursing his lips in a way that was so oddly human. In a gentle tone, he said, “Well… yes. But that’s usually something we do together.”

“Why?” you hissed, feeling suddenly riled now that Connor was talking to you. Why was he giving you this attention? Why was he acting like he cared about you? You knew he didn’t. At least, your clouded mind let you think he didn’t. “It’s not like you need my help. You can do everything on your own, I’m useless to you.”

Connor turned his body towards you fully, a deep crease settling between his brows. His LED continued to circle yellow as he studied you once again. That made you roll your eyes which seemed to be enough of a hint for Connor. With his LED still glowing yellow, he turned away without another word, allowing you to resume your wallowing in misery. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were still fuming as Hank drove you home. With Connor in the front seat, you were stuck in the back, glaring daggers into his back. How had such a clueless android managed to lure you in and make you jealous purely because he wasn’t interested in you?

As Connor jabbered on about something or other, you stared out the car window absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but imagine the Traci on the other side of the window, reaching out and smiling that perfect smile that made you never want to smile again.

You glanced at Connor as he fell silent. He turned to look out the window, making you cringe at the idea that he truly was thinking of the Traci. But you failed to notice his eyes transfixed on you through the side mirror, his gaze gentle and curious as he admired your stubborn look. He stared at you dreamily the rest of the car ride. 

When you finally reached your apartment building, Hank had barely stopped the car before you were clambering out and slamming the door behind you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you grumbled, having enough decency to give Hank a small wave. 

As you trudged towards your apartment building, you froze at the sound of another car door opening and closing. You cursed under your breath, hesitant to turn for fear of whom you might find. As you glanced over your shoulder, you cursed again as your fear came true. Connor approached you with long strides, leaving behind a very confused-looking Hank.

“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” Connor offered innocently. 

You stared at him blankly and muttered, “Connor, my building is right here. I just need to go up a few floors. I know how to use an elevator, I’ll manage just fine on my own.”

You turned and continued towards your building, not surprised when you heard Connor follow.

“The chances of an elevator-related death are one in 10.5 million,” Connor continued in that matter-of-fact tone that you usually found so endearing. 

When Connor didn’t elaborate, you stopped and turned to him again with a raised brow. You waited for more, but it still didn’t come. Connor just stared at you pleasantly, drinking in your charmingly confused face.

“Okay…,” you said. “So like I said, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“But the chance of it happening is still possible, so it’s best if I escort you,” Connor continued. His grin widened as you rolled your eyes in acceptance. As an afterthought, he added, “Just in case.” 

In silence, the two of you made your way up the elevator (where you did not, in fact, die) and to your apartment. You stood outside the door and turned to Connor, ready to send him away in the hopes that if you couldn’t see him then you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by images of him and that Traci. But you knew that wasn’t the case because even when he was long gone you would still think about how you couldn’t be enough for him. You weren’t pretty enough for such an angelic being like him, not when other beautifully crafted androids existed.

“May I come in?” Connor inquired before you could even open your mouth.

No.

You wanted to say no so desperately. You wanted him to leave. You wanted to bury yourself under your bed sheets and never see him again.

But he was still your friend, and you were still a decent enough person. It would be rude to reject him.

“Sure,” you replied softly, opening the door to allow the two of you in.

The moment you closed the door, Connor was already asking questions that you were not at all prepared for.

“You were upset today,” he noted. “Do you want to talk about how you feel?”

“I… what?” you stammered. “Since when are you a therapist android?”

“I’m not a therapist android, but as your companion, I care about your well-being,” Connor answered far too casually for your liking.

Companion? Well-being?

“Yeah, I doubt that,” you mumbled without thinking.

You were stupid to think Connor wouldn’t have heard you. With his sensitive hearing, he heard you loud and clear. Your comment made him tilt his head curiously and narrow his eyes.

“Why would I not care about you?” he asked, the genuine confusion in his voice making your resolve melt. 

“That’s not… it’s just…,” you blabbered, throwing your hands up in exasperation as you struggled to find the right words. “I wouldn’t expect you to care about me the same way–”

You stopped abruptly, eyes wide as your mind finally caught up to your yapping mouth. You could not finish that sentence.

Connor’s eyes narrowed further at your sudden pause. He took a cautious step forward, then another. You knew that he had already noticed the way your heartbeat accelerated, your breath suddenly caught in your throat. “The same way… what?” he repeated, urging you to finish your sentence.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” you dismissed. 

Connor murmured your name as if he were scolding a child, raising a brow as a sign of encouragement to finish.

“Well… I wouldn’t expect you to care about me… the same way… the same way I care about you,” you said, the last part coming out far too hurried. 

Maybe if you had just finished your sentence the first time you wouldn’t be in this situation. That was a perfectly normal thing to say to a friend, wasn’t it? Absolutely. Absolutely… But the way you had paused only made you look more suspicious. You knew Connor was smart enough to understand the suggestion of romantic feelings.

“How is it you feel about me?” Connor questioned.

“It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t feel the same anyway,” you muttered, pushing past him to be anywhere that wasn’t near him.

Before you could get too far, Connor’s iron grip wrapped around your wrist and held you in place. You looked at him with offense, but he knew you meant nothing by it.

“It does matter, Detective,” he whispered lowly. “It matters to me.”

There was no going back now. Connor already got the hint that you cared for him more than you probably should. You might as well say it outright. That was better than being embarrassed and pretending nothing happened. Right?

“I like you, Connor,” you admitted, the words sounding childish in your mouth. “God, this is so embarrassing…”

Connor was silent for a long moment, making you wonder if he actually had figured it out. If he hadn’t… God, you would be mortified. Did he really not know, and you just willingly outed yourself to him?

You risked a peek at Connor to find him already looking at you with a small smile. His hand was still holding your wrist tightly, his skin comfortingly warm against your burning skin. The glint in his eyes made your brows furrow as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Why would you think I don’t care about you?” Connor asked, the quirk of his lips telling you that he found all of this somewhat amusing.

“I mean… yeah, I would think that you care about me. On some level. I’d assume…,” you prattled. “But as a friend, obviously. Connor, I’m not sure you understand what I mean when I say I like–”

“I understand perfectly well, Detective,” Connor interrupted. “So I’ll pose the question once again: why would you think I don’t care about you?”

The confusion was clear on your face. Tilting your head to the side, you turned your body to face Connor slightly, giving him the opportunity to lightly pull your wrist until you were completely facing him. Even when he had you standing where he wanted, he still didn’t let go of your wrist, though he loosened his grasp and held you lightly. You could feel his thumb rubbing along your inner wrist soothingly. Your knees felt weak, and you were sure you were going to collapse against him at any second. His touch was so loving that you almost believed he could feel the same way.

You nearly forgot Connor had asked you a question until he gave your arm a light squeeze that snapped you back to attention. He arched both eyebrows, watching you with that humorous glint. 

“I just… Well…,” you faltered. You inhaled sharply, gathering your thoughts before you continued. “I just can’t understand how or why someone like you would be interested in someone like me when there are so many better options. Yeah, I guess… I guess that’s it. I don’t know…”

“Better options?” Connor repeated. The obvious confusion in his voice warmed your heart. It was as if he had never even considered that there could be better options.

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m no android, Connor. I’m not… I’m not perfect. I’m not beautiful or stunning or gorgeous. I’m not like that girl you were looking at.”

There was another long pause as Connor struggled to process your words. His LED spiraled yellow as he questioned, “What girl?”

“The Traci,” you explained in exasperation, “at the Eden Club. It looked like you were practically in love with her, and I don’t blame you. She’s the definition of perfect. Not a single flaw in sight.”

“You think you’re flawed?” Connor asked immediately. That was his biggest takeaway?

“Yes, obviously, Connor! I am! And I just find it very hard to believe that someone as beautiful as you could be attracted to someone as… average as me,” you snapped, sounding harsher than you intended.

Connor released your wrist, and for a moment you worried that you scared him off. But then his warm hands were holding your cheeks, his thumbs now slowly running along your cheekbones. He stepped forward until his body was pressed against yours, leaning down until his forehead was nearly touching yours. His eyes latched onto yours, and for a moment, he just held your gaze in silence. He was reveling in the sight of you, so close to him that he could feel your sweet breath against his lips.

“It seems you don’t realize how beautiful you are,” he murmured. “Perhaps I’ll have to explain it to you.”

Connor paused again, searching your eyes for any effort to argue. But you were still so stunned by his sudden proximity that you had nothing to give. When he heard no contradiction, Connor smiled and continued on.

“Maybe you don’t think you’re perfect,” he started, “but I do. Everything you see as a flaw, I see as beautiful. It makes you you. It makes you so… human. And maybe you can’t understand because of it, but there’s something so pure about being human. Just being human makes you beautiful. But you… you’re different. You’re above them all.”

There was a strangely desperate look in Connor’s eyes like he was pleading with you to understand. Exhaling slowly, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against your own. He closed his eyes, his LED shifting from yellow to blue and back again as he tried to sift through the swarm of emotions.

“I don’t know why it’s you, but it is,” he whispered, his voice nearly too quiet for you to hear. “I just can’t help but notice everything about you. I love the wrinkles on your forehead when you’re confused to the point of frustration. I love when only one side of your hair is brushed because you’re too lazy to brush the other. I love when your lip bleeds because you’re biting it while you’re thinking and you don’t even notice. I love…”

Connor stopped and pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your cheeks. His LED circled red once, the worry on his face far too obvious to your keen eyes. When you didn’t say anything, Connor tried to pull away, but you didn’t let him.

Your hands quickly moved to rest over top his, holding him in place. You looked up at him with eyes full of admiration and wonder as if an angel had come and graced the earth. Maybe that’s what he was, an angel. You would believe it. With that pretty face and those sweet words, you could easily be fooled.

As you eyed Connor’s face, the corners of your lips quirked into a smile. Maybe you could be enough for him. He seemed to think so. It was that thought alone that drove you to lean forward and press the faintest of kisses to Connor’s lips. It was barely a peck, and as you pulled away, Connor leaned forward to chase after your warmth. The gesture made you laugh as you whispered against his lips.

“I love how human you are.” 

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 2)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: life on the run is not for the weak. you're reminded of this once you run into someone you haven't seen in a while

warnings: a lot of angst (there'll be fluff and smut soon i swear i just feel like writing angst right now lmao), HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, mentions and descriptions of blood and injuries, this is so against canon its insane

word count: 2.2k

notes: ok so i changed my mind, miguel and the reader arent gonna make up just yet🤭. trust me when they do it'll be worth it lmao. im gonna need everyone to suspend their belief for the next chapters cause im kind of just making up the plot to beyond the spider-verse at this point for this silly little fic so just go with it

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God, this was very quickly turning out to be a very bad decision. The movies made being on the run seem a lot easier than this. What they had failed to include was how easily it was to get ambushed by Spider-Society members while hopping between the dimensions looking for Miles. Your little group basically had to hop through a bunch of different dimensions within a week and look for him there, then leave before HQ managed to track you guys down. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you left. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe a few months. The passage of time was pretty weird when you were constantly hopping through the fabric of space and time. All you knew is that your eyes had naturally dulled out the neon orange light that shined from the portals you were constantly jumping through. Luckily, none of your team had been caught yet. There had been a few close calls, but only two of those led to severe injuries, one of them being Gwen, and the other time being you.

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You and your team had been ambushed due to a malfunction with the portal opening. Each of you were put with your own variant to fight. Just to your luck, you were confronted by Jess. She looked awful to be honest. Stressed. She was probably put on finding you and your team while Miguel endlessly searched for Miles. This little wild goose chase had tired her out. Part of you felt bad. But that was very quickly overcome by the feeling of betrayal growing in your chest. You had a feeling she felt a similar way. “Please don’t make me do this. Just let me take you home,” she said weakly. Home. That’s right. That's basically what HQ had been to you before. You hadn’t been back to your Earth in five years, ever since Miguel caught you on the top of that building. Jessica was your first friend there. She had shown you the ropes to everything, been there for you during your lowest moments, and guided you to your highest ones. And now you had to repay her by sending her back to Miguel in a bloody pulp. You hated that this is how things had to go. But such was life for someone like you. “I have no home anymore,” you said at her monotonically before charging at her with your fists first. She’s quick to react, using one of her webs to swing away. It’s clear she doesn’t want to hurt you, each of her movements swift to defend herself, but never going on the offensive side. She could easily take you down if she wanted to. She had been doing this longer than you had and was more skilled than you too. She was going easy on you, desperately trying to show you she didn’t want to fight. But you didn’t care. You had put too much on the line to start to give up now.

The others had taken down their foes long before you had finished with Jess. You could see Gwen running up to you out of the corner of your eye, Ben tied up in a web behind her. You webbed her to the floor before she could get closer to the struggle you and Jess were currently in. You gave Gwen a quick, reassuring nod that she returned before running off to find the others. Once Gwen was out of sight, you quickly attached a web to Jess’ face, and pulled it down into your knee, knocking her glasses off her face and shattering on the floor. With her off her balance, you took the opportunity to try to knock her out. You slammed your fists into her face, one after the other, releasing all of the stress that had accumulated in your body over the past couple of months into her cheeks. You couldn’t see the damage you were doing, blinded by rage and betrayal and your fists blocking out her face. The only thing you could see was the blood splattering off of her face onto yours. You felt a voice in the back of your head begging you to stop. You desperately wanted to, but you had lost control of your body. Jess wasn’t the real person you wanted to hurt here, you already knew who that was. But she was the closest thing you could get to him right now. And if you were being honest with yourself, she wasn’t completely innocent to you either.

In her last desperate attempt to save herself, Jess shoved her forearm in the way of your balled up knuckles, grabbed a piece of shattered glass from her broken frames, and shoved it deep into your chest. Your reign of fury on her face suddenly stopped as pain quickly snapped through your body. You quickly fell to your knees, partially out of shock, and looked down to see the blood spilling out of your chest. As Jess dropped to her knees as well, you could finally get a gauge of the damage you’ve done. You couldn’t tell if the blood loss was making you see things, but her nose looked almost crooked, a dark cut slicing through the middle of it and blood pouring out of both nostrils. Both of her eyes were swollen, not entirely shut but on their way there. You looked down at your hands, the skin on your knuckles broken off and bleeding through the fabric of your suit, blending in with its natural red. They were trembling with a mixture of faded anger and new guilt. I never wanted to hurt her, you kept repeating to yourself in your head, as if it was going to make any difference. Maybe if you thought it hard enough, it would erase your actions. You suddenly flinched when you felt Jessica’s hand cupping your face. You looked up at her, mouth agape. Her soft thumb brushed your face as she stared lovingly at your face. So she did know. That made you feel a little less stupid when you broke down in front of her then and there. You just felt awful. Jess was your friend. Your best friend probably. And look at what you’ve done to her. You couldn’t understand how she managed to still be so soft with you, despite how much you’ve just mutilated her face. 

It was ever harder for you to understand how quickly she enveloped you as soon as she saw the tears begin to streak her face. You didn’t deserve this. You should run away. You need to run away. You’re currently bleeding out, and you’re just sitting here, sobbing into the crook of her neck. She’s probably just stalling for time and holding you here until help comes for her. But the longer you sat here the longer you realized…this was just her. It was only Jess here. No help was coming. Jess just wanted to hold you again one last time before letting you run away again. Once you pulled away from her, she wiped away your tears. “Don’t let me catch you,” she whispered into your ear. It was a reminder to you that while she was still holding onto her beliefs, that didn’t mean she ever stopped caring for you. She helped to push you up off of the ground, her hands now covered in your blood. You began to walk away out of  the dark alley to look for the others. Before leaving entirely, you turned around to look at Jess, still laying there. “I’ll find you once this is all over. So don’t you dare die on me, okay?” you shouted at her. She gave a simple nod in return, watching as you stumbled out of alley way. While you made the ultimate decision to let her live that day, you still had anger boiling up in your body. Somebody had to pay for all of this. All of this chaos that was about to unleash itself onto the multiverse. And you know exactly who did. And you didn’t intend to show him the same mercy you showed Jess. No. This was a job you intended to finish. 

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Thankfully, your chest laceration healed up quicker than expected, allowing you and your teammates to get back on track. Images of your encounter with Jess replayed through your mind for the next couple of weeks. The only other person you told about the details of your brutalization of Jess was Peter B., knowing he would understand with all the hard decisions he’s had to make himself. Gwen and Hobie had also noticed that you were acting a little bit off, but you avoided the subject every time they would bring it up. 

Suddenly though, it was happening. The moment you and your team had anticipated for the past couple of weeks. You were awoken by the bright glow of three orange portals opening up, three Spider-Men in each. Your team sprang awake and began to make a run for it. It was no use though, as one by one, each member of your team was separated by a different group of variants, until it was just you, Gwen, and Peter running. While you were running, you felt a hand yank at the hair on the back of your head. You quickly turned around and found Ben Reilly as the culprit. You didn’t hesitate to jump into the air and kick his face, pushing him off of you and onto the floor. As the three of you kept running, your attention was suddenly caught by something else. “Keep your hands off her! That one’s mine!” you heard the familiar voice call out to Ben. A chill went down your spine, as the three of you stopped dead in your tracks. You did it. You finally managed to lure the bat out of his cave. Before you could turn around and find the face that belonged to that deep, alluring voice, you were caught off guard as you felt a body dive into your stomach at full speed, knocking all of the air out of you lungs. The pure force of the dive pushed you and the figure into the brick wall of an abandoned building, crashing into the structure. 

Vision and hearing fuzzy from the impact, you heard Gwen scream out your name and begin to start running to you, before her and Peter B. get swept up by their own variants to take care of. Your head throbs in pain as you look around the building, feeling a huge weight on your chest. You look down at the rest of your body to find what’s weighing you down so much. And it’s him. Miguel’s massive body laying on top of you, his head dug into your stomach and arms wrapped around your waist from the dive. You were partially in shock. First of all, from the fact that your first interaction with him in months is him attempting to kill you (although it’d be a lie to say you weren’t thinking similar things). Second, you were still reeling from the blow. And third, the most shocking of all, was that this was arousing you in some way. Despite how much anger you were feeling towards him right now, you still managed to get butterflies in your stomach from how much of him was on top of you right now. He basically enveloped all of the lower half of your body. 

Shame and anger filled your body fast as you tried to push him off of you, any attempts in vain though due to how massive he was. He helped you though when he began to stand up, allowing you to get yourself up and dive through his legs as an escape. Just as you made your attempt to run out of the hole in the wall, away from a fight you know you couldn’t win, Miguel’s giant hand wrapped around your forearm. He pulled your body back to face him and slammed his massive fist into your face. Blood spurted out of your nose purely from the impact and you were nearly knocked onto the floor. You grabbed your nose in reaction and looked up at him towering over you, unable to make out his expression from his mask. “You must’ve been thinking about this encounter for a while. Have you been thinking about me, Miggy?” you quipped at him. Usually you spoke playfully with him whenever you were in a good mood with him, but this time it was your one desperate attempt to push down any feelings that would get in the way of you doing what needed to be done. “Don’t feel so flattered cariño. Whatever happens here isn’t personal,” he said in that deep, flirty tone you always found so sexy. But right now all it did was piss you off even more. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better,” you said, dropping the slight smirk you had on your face. Taking action right away, you charged right at him, ready to do it right this time. You just wished he had his mask off so you could look him dead straight in his crimson eyes as you killed him.

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NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: i had night shift by lucy dacus on loop while writing the fight with jessica....thats all ill say on the matter. also sorry miguel's barely in this chapter i need to set up plot and shit. ALSO I JUST WANNA PREFACE, MY FIC TAKES PLACE A COUPLE OF MONTHS AFTER ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SO JESS HAD ALREADY GIVEN BIRTH. I SWEAR Y/N DID NOT JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF A PREGNANT LADY💀💀💀

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